Chapter 15: Your Majesty Has Done Exceptionally Well
The heavy rain gradually subsided, and Liu Jin waved farewell.
“I’ll see you off.”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” Liu Jin replied. “Let’s go.”
The Emperor Wu of Han was speechless.
This young man was always so unpredictable. Though he appeared refined and dignified, he often left one both amused and bewildered.
The fields after the rain stretched endlessly. The wheat had already been harvested, and every household was preparing to irrigate, plow, and plant winter wheat.
By the time of Emperor Wu, millet and sorghum were seldom cultivated in the north; wheat had replaced them as the staple crop.
A few government officials were collecting taxes on a nearby road. This summer’s severe drought had drastically reduced the harvest, yet taxes remained unchanged. The common people begged in vain, but the heavy taxation would not cease for anyone’s sake.
“Laborious conscription to the western tribes, when will the nation’s prosperity end?”
Liu Jin sighed softly. Though he could not fully grasp the severity of taxation in later times, seeing it firsthand now stirred some empathy.
Emperor Wu paused, silently gazing into the distance, and spoke to Liu Jin, “From what you say, it seems you believe we should not levy so much tax for war?”
“Your Majesty has done very well already.”
The emperor shook his head. “That’s not what you mean.”
Liu Jin replied, “I mean Your Majesty has accomplished much already, having invoked the spirit and might of the Han people. It is time to hold back.”
“Years of continuous war have demanded all the nation’s economic resources. The people suffer greatly. It’s time to pause and let them rest.”
The emperor countered, “Do you think I was wrong to attack the Xiongnu?”
“Not at all.”
“But can we not pause for a while, to let the people recuperate? The wealthy own vast fields, while the poor have no place to stand.”
Emperor Wu said, “From beginning to end, the court has collected more taxes from merchants than from farmers.”
Liu Jin rolled his eyes. “That’s not quite right, old sir.”
“Your Majesty does indeed levy heavy merchant taxes to fund the war, which drives merchants away. The state monopoly on salt and iron brings short-term wealth but disrupts commercial balance. If merchants dare not trade, how will they support warfare? Then what? The focus shifts to farmers. Wealthy merchants buy and consolidate land, becoming large landowners and squeezing out farmers. Isn't that even more frightening?”
If a court minister had spoken thus, he might have already been punished or exiled to a remote, harsh post.
As the emperor aged, he tolerated no dissent, viewing any challenge to his governance as a denial of his lifelong achievements—something utterly unacceptable.
Gradually, no official dared speak the truth to Emperor Wu. Though central power seemed absolute, hidden dangers lurked everywhere.
But when Liu Jin spoke these words, the emperor’s first reaction was not anger or doubt, but serious contemplation.
“You have great insight.”
“How do you know so much?”
Liu Jin smiled. “Old sir, you’re overthinking. My father knows even more than I do.”
“No!” The emperor had never said such a thing; he only urged rest for the people, never offering such sharp observations. This was Liu Jin’s own view, he was sure.
Liu Jin: “What?”
“Nothing. You are outstanding. You will surely achieve great things!” The admiration on Emperor Wu’s face was unmistakable.
“Things everyone knows don’t need emphasis,” Liu Jin said, waving his hand. “I’ll be off. Rest early, rise early.”
The emperor was speechless again. This brat never took things seriously.
...
The setting sun bathed the golden palace buildings in a solemn and mysterious glow, draping the ancient city in majesty.
As Liu Jin entered the palace, he saw his uncle Gongsun Jingsheng emerge from within.
He eyed Gongsun Jingsheng suspiciously and approached, asking, “Uncle.”
“Oh, Jin’er, anything you need?”
Gongsun Jingsheng smiled; his mood had been decent lately, especially pleased to hear that Liu Jin’s relationship with the emperor was improving.
“It’s past your duty time. Why are you only coming out now?”
Gongsun Jingsheng’s face tightened slightly as he hastily replied, “Oh, there were still some matters to handle at the office.”
“Hmm.”
Liu Jin nodded. Gongsun Jingsheng waved and left.
Watching his retreating figure, Liu Jin pondered. The direction he took was clearly not toward the Grand Minister of Ceremonies’ office but deeper into the Weiyang Palace inner city.
Could it be... he was already entangled with Princess Yangshi? Had he begun embezzling?
For the past half month, Liu Jin had been focused on the emperor, almost forgetting that the Wugu (witchcraft) incident began because his uncle Gongsun Jingsheng was caught embezzling and imprisoned, then implicated in an affair with Princess Yangshi. Eventually, Prime Minister Gongsun He and the Grand Minister of Ceremonies Gongsun Jingsheng were both executed by Emperor Wu.
Heavy-hearted, Liu Jin returned to the Chang Le Palace and found Liu Ju. “Father, tomorrow I want to visit the Grand Minister of Ceremonies’ office.”
“What for?” Liu Ju asked curiously.
“To see Uncle.”
“Alright, go ahead. Don’t keep him from his work.”
“Good!”
Early the next morning, Liu Jin rose early, passed through the outer precinct of Weiyang Palace, and soon arrived at the Grand Minister of Ceremonies’ office.
The office of the Grand Minister of Ceremonies, inherited from the Qin dynasty, originally oversaw the emperor’s horses. Initially, it managed the emperor’s travel carriages and the horses that pulled them.
From early Han through Emperor Wen’s reign, horses were scarce and precious. Thanks to the efforts of Emperors Wen and Jing, the Han increasingly amassed horses. By Emperor Wu’s time, the empire possessed hundreds of thousands of warhorses—assets that allowed him to confront the Xiongnu.
The office’s responsibilities grew accordingly, managing not only the emperor’s private horses but all the warhorses of the realm.
Upon Liu Jin’s arrival and introduction, several attendants whispered and glanced at him from time to time. His frequent requests to see Emperor Wu at the Xuanshi Hall had become well known, even to the external court.
Such matters could not be hidden; there were always intrigues with the Crown Prince’s palace, though Liu Jin did not know who was involved.
“Uncle.”
Gongsun Jingsheng was surprised to see Liu Jin and smiled. “Jin’er, what brings you here?”
“To learn how to manage horse affairs from you.”
Gongsun Jingsheng said, “You don’t need to learn such things. Learning how to be a ruler is the real matter.”
“But since you want to learn, Uncle will show you around.”
“Alright.”
He stood before a wooden cabinet filled with bamboo scrolls, casually leafing through the Grand Minister’s collection.
“People’s tax calculations for Chang’an and Left Fufeng total thirty-four million coins...”
Liu Jin curiously asked Gongsun Jingsheng, “What is tax calculation?”