Chapter Sixty: Instilling... in Liu Bei

Zhang Fei departed. Seeing his excited expression, Chen Xi knew that the fellow would most likely pick a massive fight in Mount Tai before returning.

The next day, Liu Bei arrived again. Seeing Chen Xi leisurely sipping tea in the administrative hall, a helpless smile crossed Liu Bei's face. After such a long time, Liu Bei no longer worried that Chen Xi might actually work himself to death. He had finally figured it out: no matter how many troublesome matters landed in this fellow's hands, they only required a moment of furrowed brows. He now truly believed what Chen Xi had said along the journey—statecraft was genuinely his area of expertise.

"Could Zichuan be feeling bored once more?" Liu Bei asked with a smile. Nowadays, he hardly handled administrative affairs anymore; aside from retaining the authority to promote or penalize subordinates, he basically left all other matters for Chen Xi to handle at his own discretion. He spent most of his time selecting individuals with good physical constitutions from among the refugees and putting them through training. By now, they were beginning to take shape, though this force of over ten thousand new recruits was still merely an empty shell.

"We are digging canals and wells everywhere, repairing roads, and the city walls have also been renovated. It's rare to have hundreds of thousands of people at our disposal, so getting everything done in one go will save a tremendous amount of trouble in the future," Chen Xi said feignedly, pulling out a bamboo slip and pretending to read it. Although he knew Liu Bei was well aware of his true personality, he still liked to put on a show in front of his superior—one shouldn't overdo it, after all.

Jian Yong chuckled quietly from the side, immensely amused by Chen Xi's pretense of reading the bamboo slip, especially since he was holding it upside down while pretending to read.

"How is Zilong doing with the military agricultural colonies? Can he meet Zichuan's standards?" Liu Bei inquired. He still harbored some doubts regarding Zhao Yun's capabilities; after all, for someone with such formidable martial prowess to also contribute significantly to statecraft was no easy feat.

"There are probably only a handful of people in the present age who could match him in managing agricultural colonies," Chen Xi said with a trace of pride. "And virtually none who could steadily defeat him."

This was not merely Chen Xi boasting. After all, agricultural colonization was a relatively novel concept at this time. Although some had attempted it in the past, after Zao Zhi revamped the system, it had essentially become a completely different matter from earlier iterations. Now, Chen Xi had imparted the knowledge of Zao Zhi's colonization decree to Zhao Yun, letting him modify it according to his own judgment.

Zhao Yun's intelligence was by no means inferior. Although he had never witnessed this newborn model of military farming, he was fully capable of discerning its merits and flaws. Naturally, he analyzed the decree through his own perspective. In Zhao Yun's own words, while this decree was indeed a method to rapidly accumulate national power, wasn't it perhaps a bit too harsh? A fifty-fifty split seemed somewhat cruel to the common people.

Chen Xi couldn't be bothered to explain to Zhao Yun that even after a fifty-fifty split, the common people would still live better than before, primarily because the intermediate parasites were completely eliminated. Under the old system, land taxes were thirty percent and land rents were fifty percent, meaning out of a year's harvest, only twenty percent remained in the tiller's hands—which explained why, despite the Han Dynasty not actually lacking arable land, people still starved to death.

As for the fifty-fifty split Chen Xi mentioned, it was based on an average derived from sample yields, with all private taxes abolished. Chen Xi guaranteed that even during minor famines, a sixty-mu plot split evenly would at least prevent starvation. Yet Zhao Yun insisted on arguing with him. Since he couldn't defeat Chen Xi in a debate, he had indignantly led a group of subordinates to gather data and had briefly returned a few days prior.

It had to be said that field investigations were indeed extremely necessary. After more than half a month of research, Zhao Yun discovered to his astonishment that what Chen Xi said was actually true: a fifty-fifty split could allow people to survive even disaster years. Was there any justice in this? Why, then, had the Yellow Turban Rebellion broken out in the past?

When Zhao Yun returned, he carried his spear and wore a gloomy expression. Judging by his demeanor, if he couldn't win the argument this time, he intended to punch a couple of holes in Chen Xi. He brought his spear and debated Chen Xi once more—from tax systems to farming methods, from per-mu yields to famine years—arguing for a full two hours. Even Jian Yong was astonished, having never realized that Zhao Yun possessed such eloquence.

In the end, Chen Xi shrugged and told Zhao Yun that the matter of agricultural colonies was now entirely his to resolve; the enacted laws and decrees no longer needed to be shown to him. Whatever he required, he should read books for himself, conduct his own field research, and bear the consequences of any mistakes.

Thus, Chen Xi had dismissed Zhao Yun. Although he could still find numerous flaws in Zhao Yun's colonization decree, Chen Xi preferred to believe that Zhao Yun would eventually notice those issues himself. Naturally, that realization would only come with the passage of time and practical fieldwork, but undeniably, Zhao Yun had already taken his first step forward.

Listening to Jian Yong recount these previous events, Liu Bei sighed. "The decrees and policies of the Han Dynasty were not wrong; the mistake lies in the fact that there are always those who exploit loopholes. Among the aristocratic clans and powerful families, talent is not lacking, but their efforts have been misdirected."

"Any decree will have loopholes; it's merely a question of degree. After all, the Dao shifts with the times. It's perfectly normal for the golden laws and jade decrees of the past to become obsolete. Keeping pace with the times is what truly matters," Chen Xi said helplessly.

Chen Xi realized that he needed to instill some novel concepts into Liu Bei. If Liu Bei remained entrenched in outmoded ideas and conservative traditions, even if he eventually unified the realm, he would amount to no more than Emperor Guangwu. What Chen Xi desired was the grand and expansive spirit of the First Emperor of Qin and Emperor Wu of Han—the ambition to pursue and expel the northern nomads, an ambition powerful enough to overawe an entire era and point swords across the world. He would rather see Liu Bei pursue military expansion to the point of standing in solitary supremacy, akin to Emperor Wu's later years, than watch him remain shackled between the aristocratic clans and imperial relatives like Emperor Guangwu.

Even with Emperor Wu's aggressive military campaigns, the realm ultimately remained under the rule of the Liu family. Through four hundred leisurely years, even down to the Three Kingdoms era, the Western Regions and the frontier remained under the sway of the Han house, with all directions rendering vassalage. That peerless momentum suppressed the surrounding powers so thoroughly that none dared to raise their heads. Even when the Han house declined, which foreign race dared to stretch out a hand?

In contrast, the rise of Guangwu represented the gradual fading of that unbending martial spirit. He bowed to the aristocratic clans, lowering his head again and again until it became a habit, forgetting the initial spirit that asked, "How can one have a home while the Xiongnu remain unvanquished?", and forgetting the determination to endure humiliation in order to wash away past shames.

Truth be told, Chen Xi was not afraid of producing an Emperor Wu of Han. Even if domestic morale became unstable due to campaigns against the Xiongnu, and even if civil uprisings occurred, so what? At the very least, after that single war, there would be over a century of rest and recuperation. A century! To trade the sacrifice of one generation for a century of recovery—what was there to worry about?

In the later years of Emperor Wu's reign, domestic morale was indeed unsettled, but the Xiongnu were essentially crippled. When it was said that the realm needed to recuperate, it simply recuperated. Back during the reign of Emperor Jing, if one spoke of recuperating, one still had to worry about whether the Xiongnu agreed. But during Emperor Wu's era, there was no need to worry about border incursions. Afterward, Emperor Xuan continued the recovery and ushered in a golden age. In other words, the trouble caused by Emperor Wu was not excessively large, and the situation remained fully controllable.

To put it more radically, if after Emperor Xuan another ruthless ruler on the level of Emperor Wu were to emerge, repeating the cycle, it would essentially amount to harvesting wool from the entire world, allowing the Great Han to consume the entirety of Asia...

Now look at Guangwu. Following Guangwu, aristocratic clans and imperial relatives monopolized power, and no super-ruthless ruler emerged to suppress them. Over the span of more than a hundred years, the clans grew increasingly powerful until they cast covetous eyes upon the imperial throne, ultimately dragging the Han Dynasty to its death. It became completely uncontainable—a total tragedy.

Precisely because he understood these truths, Chen Xi would rather see the emergence of a belligerent Prince Liu than have him follow Guangwu's old path. At the very least, Emperor Wu's path could succeed as long as financial resources and manpower held out. Guangwu's path, however, was a complete dead end. Walking down that road to the end, even if it didn't result in a society where "the upper ranks have no poor scholars, and the lower ranks have no noble families," it certainly wouldn't be much better. Given the inherent nature of aristocratic clans, without powerful suppression, trouble would inevitably arise sooner or later.

Clutching this mindset, Chen Xi now seized every opportunity whenever he met Liu Bei to instill thoughts of the Hegemonic Way, the Kingly Way, the Heavenly Way, and similar philosophies.