Chapter 38: The Establishment (Special thanks to our Alliance Leader, Circle After Circle of Annual Rings)

While Zhao Huaian was in high spirits, Wang Duo approached him carrying a ledger. He spoke up immediately:

"Commander Zhao, here is the grain and provisions ledger that requires verification and your signature."

Zhao Huaian readily agreed. He picked up the iron seal that had been issued alongside his commission, stamped the logistics ledger, and then began to examine the grain and provisions book in detail.

It recorded a month’s worth of supplies for the Baoyi Battalion: one hundred bolts of raw cloth, and a total of sixty shi of various mixed grains, including millet, barley, wheat, buckwheat, soybeans, small beans, peas, hemp, and sorghum. Of course, these were calculated as equivalents to husked rice; in reality, the actual volume of these mixed grains was significantly higher than sixty shi.

As Zhao Huaian reviewed the figures, Wang Duo stood by, providing explanations. He went through the conversion rates for the various grains, the monthly consumption per soldier, and the breakdown of pay and rations. Zhao Huaian, however, possessed a remarkable aptitude for mental calculation. He simply estimated the total volume of supplies and immediately recited the consumption figures per head, leaving Wang Duo stunned. He had not expected such a rough-hewn soldier of the local militia to have such formidable mental math skills, and he found himself developing a sense of admiration.

But what truly startled Wang Duo was what Zhao Huaian said next. Zhao pondered aloud:

"Based on our army’s current standards, each Tang soldier requires twelve bolts of silk per year, and one shi of millet per month—that is twelve shi per year. If we calculate at the market price of fifty wen per dou of millet, those twelve shi come to six strings of cash. At a high price of one hundred wen, that is twelve strings. Adding the eight hundred wen per bolt of silk, twelve bolts would be nearly ten strings. In other words, it costs twenty strings of cash to maintain one soldier for a year."

Wang Duo remained silent, uncertain of the intent behind Zhao Huaian’s question. Then, Zhao Huaian touched upon the crux of the matter:

"How many soldiers do we have here in Western Sichuan? The annual cost in money and grain alone must be substantial."

Wang Duo glanced at Zhao Huaian. Though he could not discern his true motive, he explained, "According to the military rolls, we have fifty thousand soldiers in Western Sichuan. Thus, at twenty strings per soldier annually, that is an expenditure of one million strings. Our annual tax revenue in Western Sichuan is one point eight million strings. Of course, whether there are truly fifty thousand soldiers is not something I can know for certain."

Zhao Huaian looked at Wang Duo. This minor military official clearly had depth. With just a slight probe, the man had accurately cited the financial figures for the entire region, demonstrating a mastery of his craft.

Zhao Huaian pondered this. From the situation of his own hundred-man unit, he could roughly gauge the fiscal state of the Great Tang. While he remained ignorant of the conditions in other prefectures, the fact that military expenditure in a single region accounted for two-thirds of its total revenue could no longer be described merely as "impoverishing the state through militarism." Furthermore, each military governor maintained his own elite personal guard—men who were lavishly rewarded and granted generous gifts annually. At this rate, how much money could possibly remain for the local government?

And this was only the supply for the local prefecture. If one were to add the "out-of-territory" fees for the foreign garrison troops mentioned earlier by Ren Conghai—all of which were funded directly by the imperial court in Chang'an—that was another vast sum of money and grain. The current Great Tang was essentially exhausting its entire wealth to sustain these warlord armies. Should any unforeseen disaster occur, the fiscal system would collapse, and the Great Tang would immediately perish.

These were the data points; the current state and future of a nation were all contained within them. Aside from someone like Zhao Huaian, who came from a later age, perhaps only those on the front lines of administration, like Wang Duo, could see the danger.

Wang Duo was a talent. Zhao Huaian could not help but chat with him more, and Wang Duo seemed to have no defenses against him; whenever Zhao asked, he answered. For instance, he noted that the annual tax revenue of the imperial court was thirty million strings of cash, of which over twenty million were allocated to the frontier garrisons, leaving only nine million for the capital. And those twenty million were used to support eight hundred thousand soldiers across the realm. Yet, what was the total population of the empire? A mere three point five million households. That meant three households were supporting one soldier.

Wang Duo merely stated the facts, saying nothing of the outcome, but Zhao Huaian understood his implication: the Great Tang was living beyond its means, its existence truly as precarious as a pile of eggs.

***

Thinking of this, Zhao Huaian suddenly asked Wang Duo: "Has Master Wang ever heard of a man named Huang Chao?"

Wang Duo thought carefully and shook his head.

For reasons unknown, ever since the two had reconciled their accounts, a silent understanding had developed between them. Perhaps it was because they were among the few clear-headed men in this chaotic era.

However, Zhao Huaian reconsidered—that wasn't quite right. Given the current state of the Tang, anyone with a bit of insight should be aware of the situation. Previously, his "good elder brother" Xianyu Yue had lamented the droughts and floods in the Central Plains, worrying for the world. Now, Wang Duo, this minor official, had identified the crisis from his ledgers. Each of them, in their own position, had reached the same conclusion: The Great Tang is in peril!

Yet, as for this outcome, the clear-headed either did not care or were happy to see it happen. Most, like Wang Duo, remained silent; they watched the edifice teetering toward collapse, yet they kept their heads down and drifted with the current. It seemed that true loyalists determined to save the collapsing heavens were nowhere to be found.

Even if the Tang were truly in its final hour, it was a protracted process. It was that man, Huang Chao, who would truly drive the Tang to its destruction. Yet, having been in Qiong Prefecture for many days and having met many people—including well-informed individuals like "Fatty Dou"—no one had claimed to know of him.

Could it be that Huang Chao had not yet emerged? If so, the Great Tang might linger for a while longer. Or perhaps the region of Shu was simply isolated? If figures like Prefect Song did not know of him, then Zhao Huaian would have to plan his future carefully. The presence or absence of Huang Chao represented two completely different paths of development; Zhao Huaian could not afford to overlook this.

He silently added the search for information on Huang Chao to his list of priorities, then invited Wang Duo and Ren Conghai to join him for a drink.

...

Ren Conghai was already tipsy, and he sat down with Zhao Huaian in a daze. The meal was simple, but they found themselves in good company. Zhao Huaian and Wang Duo, in particular, discussed various mathematical techniques. Wang Duo even sought advice on a difficult problem: how to measure the area of an irregular plot of land, which was the greatest headache for officials tasked with land surveying.

Zhao Huaian, enjoying himself, waved his hand dismissively: "Why is that difficult?"

He then dipped his finger in wine and taught Wang Duo the basics of using calculus to calculate the area of irregular shapes. This feat left Wang Duo in awe. He had thought of dividing the land into smaller pieces to sum them up, but he had never imagined a tool or algorithm that could directly calculate the sum of such divisions. In that moment, Zhao Huaian’s stature in Wang Duo’s heart rose to the height of a three-story earthen tower. Zhao was truly extraordinary!

Meanwhile, Zhao Huaian did not neglect Ren Conghai. He kept asking about the military situation in Western Sichuan, such as which generals were brave and how the foreign garrison troops fared in battle. Faced with these questions, Ren Conghai suddenly sobered up. He pointed at Zhao Huaian and joked, "Zhao, oh Zhao, are you scouting the various armies? And you're asking a military inspector? What is your intention?"

Zhao Huaian, also quite drunk, draped an arm around Ren Conghai and squinted at him: "Old Ren, we are all on the same side. We are about to go to war. If I don't understand the combat capabilities and temperaments of the various armies, what will I do if I get sold out on the battlefield?"

Ren Conghai stopped speaking. He glanced at Wang Duo, who was now slumped over the mat, asleep, before whispering: "Zhao, you truly have the favor of Prefect Song. I only learned today that we were going to war, yet you already knew."

Seeing that Zhao Huaian had significant backing, Ren Conghai stopped holding back and shared everything he knew about the various armies. When he spoke of the Eastern Sichuan Army, he offered a pointed warning: "If you encounter them on the battlefield, be very careful."

Zhao Huaian smiled and said nothing.

After a while, Ren Conghai suddenly stood up and clasped his hands to Zhao Huaian: "Zhao, thank you for your hospitality, but I have official business to attend to. Let's end it here for today."

Zhao Huaian was surprised, thinking to himself that besides delivering his commission and drinking with him, what other business could the man have? But since he had said so, Zhao stood up to see him out of the tent, then returned to call his men to discuss matters.

Seeing Wang Duo was drunk, he had Old Mo carry him behind the tent to rest, then moved to another tent to summon his men. Soon, his disciples and the squad leaders were packed into the tent, over a dozen men filling the space.

Once everyone was present, Zhao Huaian spoke of three things.

First was logistics: a large shipment of supplies had arrived, and these must be distributed to everyone immediately. In particular, they needed to familiarize themselves with the crossbows to ensure combat effectiveness.

Second was the reorganization of their unit: now that they had the military designation "Baoyi Battalion," the corresponding flags and positions had to be established. Aside from himself, the original eight squad leaders were appointed as platoon leaders, and each was granted a specific banner. The eight platoons were divided into left and right wings: Left One through Four, and Right One through Four. The left wing carried black, red, green, and white flags, each depicting a bear. The right wing carried the same colors, but depicting a wolf. Zhao Huaian’s own central unit would carry a yellow flag depicting a tiger. Once the flags were distributed, the structure of each platoon was clear.

The final matter Zhao Huaian addressed was training. Previously, he had tasked the elite soldiers like Lu Zhongyuan with training the men in martial arts and weaponry, but they had not yet learned battle formations or signaling. Now that their organization was set and their drums and flags were ready, it was time to train. There were only two days left before they marched—time was incredibly tight. Fortunately, their numbers were small and the proportion of veterans was high, so mastering the signals would not be difficult.

The squad leaders were in high spirits; having received a military designation and promotions, everyone felt there was a future worth striving for, and they were all eager to prove themselves.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out outside the tent, followed by loud wailing and the shouts of many people. The scene was chaotic. Everyone was stunned—what had happened now?