Great Tang Idyll - Volume 4 Chapter 212

Old Man Bi truly wanted to stop Zhang Xiaobao, who was preparing to rest, and ask him about the logistics arrangements. But when he saw how tired Zhang Xiaobao looked, he felt that even someone with extraordinary ability would be exhausted. 

He suppressed the urgency in his heart and said, “After dinner, have the medical doctor give you a massage. You should have ridden the sedan chair with us on the way here.”

“Alright, thank you, Grandpa Bi. One more thing—there seems to be plenty of medicinal herbs in this place, and some animals are useful for medicine too. If we want to help the local people, we should open a medicinal-herb purchasing shop here and use salt and cloth to trade. And it would be best if we could take the opportunity to find a few people willing to teach here, to enlighten the local people. Right now, for anything we want to do we still have to go negotiate with them. Is this still land and subjects of the Tang?”

The more Zhang Xiaobao thought about it, the more stifled he felt. He did not blame the local people—he blamed the officials who had been posted here before. What were they even doing? When disasters struck they did not request relief supplies from the court, and every year they still demanded native tribute. They only wanted to take and never give. Now it was like this—the people also no longer wanted to give anything.

If this were in the place where his father governed, when difficulties arose, one shout and the common people would respond immediately. Like the donations in Wangjiang—things were exactly like that.

But in Yizhou, even if you shouted until your throat broke, nobody would care. They had thrown down a mess and left it behind at a time when there was no time to govern anything.

Old Man Bi now understood the situation here as well. With so few people, if no one helped, things could not go on like this. The Zhang Family had the ability to govern—even give them just two years, they could make the locals live well again.

But the Zhang Family had not come to govern—they came to organize the logistics. They still had more important work waiting. Leaving them in a small prefecture with only four thousand people would be an absolute waste of talent.

Zhang Xiaobao’s suggestion was good—but who would be willing to come?

He thought about it and asked, “Xiaobao, do you think there will be people willing to come here to teach the locals?”

“There will be. Not only will there be—there will be many. Court officials enjoy hereditary privilege depending on their rank, with different grades of inherited positions, and different numbers of sons who can inherit. There are plenty of aristocratic sons who lack the ability to take on positions. It’s not as if they’re all illiterate. They can’t inherit official positions, and they have no place in their clan. Send them here, tell them clearly that if they do well, they will be given an official post. They’ll fight to come. And another benefit is—regardless of their standing in the clan, their family must support them at least a little for the sake of face. Find a hundred sons of aristocratic families. When they see how hard life is for the locals, they’ll naturally start thinking of ways to help. After two or three years of grinding, even the most spoiled young masters will become mature. I believe most of them will understand what responsibility means. Then giving them office won’t be a problem.”

Zhang Xiaobao felt that he had no time to manage the people of Yizhou—so he would bring in people to manage them. This place was too poor for anyone to have the heart to scheme. Once aristocratic sons came in to earn official rank, they would not be able to resist improving things.

Old Man Bi listened and nodded. He knew that no one had taught Xiaobao this—Xiaobao had thought it up on the spot. Compared to before, he had grown even more perceptive.

“Ah… if only all the aristocratic sons were like you and Juanjuan—sensible and wise. Go and rest. Let this old man think about it and see if it can be done.”

Old Man Bi sighed, then turned to go discuss it with Old Man Yao. This matter was no small one—it required the emperor’s approval. Official positions were not granted lightly. 

Of course, it depended on the person. If Xiaobao wanted a post right now, he wouldn’t need Zhang Zhong to secure it—the court would arrange it automatically. 

In all his life, he had never seen children like Xiaobao and Juanjuan.

The skill of the Zhang Family’s cooks was beyond doubt. Before the food was even ready, the aroma drifted out with the wind, and even the locals, who were not helping, came to join the crowd.

Smelling the fragrance—how could anyone not be tempted? They wanted to taste what it was like. The same meat, yet cooked by them smelled so good. Who knew what they added? And that chicken broth—more flavorful than wild pheasant soup.

When mealtime came, except for the escort squad who took over the guard shift, everyone lined up with their bowls.

Ever since eating with the Zhang and Wang Families the first time, others stopped cooking. They couldn’t swallow their own food anymore. They would rather wait to eat the Zhang Family’s meals. It wasn’t laziness—it was that the Zhang Family’s cooks simply made superior food. Everyone got along well anyway. The only thing they worried about was what to do in the future if they could no longer eat such meals.

Zhang Xiaobao said he would only drink soup—and he truly only drank a little soup, made with local wild vegetables. 

After a quick meal, he and Wang Juan went to rest.

As for the eleven people of Prefectural Assistant Fang—they ate bowl after bowl, not knowing what they were thinking, drinking tea between bites as if it would help them digest faster so they could eat more.

“Governor Zhang, is this your family’s cook? Delicious—truly delicious.” Fang Síma leaned back after eating his fill, sipping seafood broth in tiny sips as he spoke.

Zhang Zhong ate slowly. He had little appetite. Partly because the situation here was discouraging, partly because he had not eaten his son and daughter-in-law’s cooking for days. The cook’s skill was indeed excellent, but something was missing compared to theirs. He could taste it instantly—especially in the seasoning. His son only needed a sniff to know how much of a particular spice should be added according to the season’s harvest—unfailingly accurate, though he didn’t know how he had learned it.

He did not know his son had once sold Thirteen-Spice seasoning; if he couldn’t distinguish the strength and age of each spice by smell, then it would be strange.

Hearing Fang Síma praise the food, he replied absent-mindedly, “It’s acceptable. They can cook. Each cook is skilled in different dishes. This seafood broth wasn’t even made by the best soup cook—he’s over there braising dishes. When there’s a chance, I’ll let you taste true delicacies. My son Xiaobao and my daughter-in-law Juanjuan make those.”

He spoke honestly—but to Fang Síma, it sounded unbelievable.

“Your son and daughter-in-law can cook? Impressive. If my son could cook for me, I’d think it the finest food in the world. Governor Zhang… your cook isn’t an imperial chef, is he?”

“What’s an imperial chef? They also need the seasonings my family sends to the palace, and many dishes have to be written out and sent to them so they can learn. Those fellows cling like ghosts—never mind whether we’re busy. As soon as His Majesty grows tired of a dish, they immediately urge us to send new recipes. Such imperial chefs—if they came to my house, I wouldn’t want them.”

Again, he spoke the plain truth. But to Fang Síma, it was staggering.

“Then… how are your family’s cooks so good?” he asked sincerely.

“We run restaurants. If the cooks aren’t good, we’d lose money. Between Water and Clouds Pavilion and Between Sea and Clouds Pavilion, both chain restaurants—we own them. And Zhuangyuan Tower in the capital.”

Zhang Zhong set down his chopsticks and motioned for someone to bring the same wild-vegetable soup his son had been drinking.

“Ah? Between Water and Clouds Pavilion belongs to you? Then… you must be Zhang Zhong?” Fang Síma was stunned—and then embarrassed. They had already told him their names when they arrived.

He corrected his posture, lowered his voice, and said respectfully, “Governor Zhang, this humble official did not know it was you—my apologies. Had I known you were the Zhang Zhong of Sanshui County, I would have savored the food slowly—maybe I could have eaten even more.”

While Zhang Zhong wondered since when his name had become that well-known, Fang Síma continued, “To tell the truth, my son studies at Jianjia Academy in Sanshui County. I only gave him one guàn of money when he left home two years ago. I worried he would suffer in the capital. But two months before you arrived, he sent a letter saying he had earned money, was praised by his teachers, and would take this year’s exam—certain to win a degree. He said it was all arranged by the Zhang and Wang Families—he studies while teaching, instructing the children of your manor households. He wrote that the Zhang and Wang Family children were remarkable. At the beginning, he couldn’t answer their questions and had to study even harder in order to teach them. Just like the couplet hanging in the manor academy: ‘To teach others, one must first cultivate oneself; in reading, one must read with one’s heart.’ He wrote about Between Water and Clouds Pavilion too—describing it so vividly it made me yearn to see it myself. I never thought you would come to Yizhou. But… Governor Zhang… why did you come here?”

Fang Síma truly could not understand why such a capable official had been sent to this remote place.

Zhang Zhong did not mind and smiled. “Office is the same wherever one is. If I can help the people live well, I am at ease. When the realm suffers, officials must serve; when the realm prospers, one need not cling to office. If one day all Tang subjects live well, I will retire, become a wealthy old man, let Xiaobao and Juanjuan have a few more children, and enjoy my years with grandchildren. The lands of Suzhou and Hangzhou are fine—but I am unwilling to take office there. I prefer the difficult places. If I can make the people here live better lives, then coming to Yizhou makes me happier.”

He truly wished to govern this place well.

Hearing this, Fang Síma rose and saluted deeply. “Your vision is admirable. When you arrived, I did not think much of this place. But now that I know it is you, my heart is at ease. Whatever you command, I will go first. I will help ensure the people of Yizhou live well.”

This was no empty flattery. For anyone else, he would not dare say such words. But he knew Zhang Zhong well—his son’s letters had described him in detail. Wherever he governed, regardless of the local situation, he would inevitably make the people wealthy. A man like this governing a prefecture of four thousand people—far too easy.

Zhang Zhong also rose. “With Assistant Fang’s support, I will turn Yizhou prosperous within two years.”

While the two men bonded over shared ideals, not far away Grandpa Bi wore a worried expression.

“It seems Xiaobao, Juanjuan, and the two masters of the Zhang Family truly have not told anyone anything. Zhang Zhong still has the mind to govern the place. We must tell him—otherwise it will delay the real matter. Governance can wait for the court’s decision. If the aristocratic sons come, he won’t need to handle it. But Xiaobao and Juanjuan… why can’t we see their arrangements? Shouldn’t they have prepared everything already? Why do we see nothing now?”

Old Man Yao was just as anxious. He was not worried whether Yizhou could be governed well—if left alone, Zhang Zhong would manage it easily. The problem was that right now they should not be governing. The entire journey so far, the Zhang Family had made no preparations that they could see.

Old Man Zhang swallowed a bite of steamed bun and said, “Wait and see. Perhaps the arrangements are already in motion. Do not disturb them.”

The two others had no choice but to follow his advice. If the Zhang Family could not handle it, no one else could.

Late the next night, after the meal had nearly ended, over a hundred people suddenly appeared from the direction of the city.

“Send someone to ask what they want—could they be trying to rebel?” Fang Síma asked nervously.

Before anyone went, Zhang Family men had already made contact and returned to report, “Master, they say they have come to help with work and to thank you.”

Old Man Bi waved his hand quickly. “Yongcheng, don’t think that way. Xiaobao and Juanjuan both behaved well—they put my mind at ease. Before they left, they even talked to us about the people of Yizhou. It’s just a pity they only said half and we didn’t get to ask further. Yongcheng, do you know what those two children had in mind?” As he accepted the third infusion of tea that Zhang Zhong poured for him, Old Man Bi asked casually.

At this moment, Zhang Zhong missed his son even more. The plans his son had left behind did not only contain instructions for developing the local economy—they also included the anticipated reactions of the three old men. This entire stage of governance was written within the plan. Otherwise, it truly would have been difficult to manage.

Thinking of this, Zhang Zhong poured out the cooled tea in his own cup, refilled all three cups in front of the elders, and stopped waiting forOld Man Bi to circle around the subject. He spoke frankly: “Master Bi, did you come to hold me accountable? Saying I shouldn’t disregard my official status and play around with the common people like this?”

Now that the words were placed directly on the table, the three old men did not know how to respond. Whether they said yes or no, it would sound wrong, but they also couldn’t stay silent. 

It was Old Man Zhang who spoke more directly: “Something like that. Not to question you, but to ask whether there’s deeper meaning behind it. The Zhang Family’s methods always leave us guessing. We want to learn. Yes—learn.”

“Ah… to tell the truth, I didn’t want this either. If the people here were like those in Shuzhou, then simply recruiting workers, paying wages—wouldn’t that be easier? One model used again and again. But that absolutely wouldn’t work here. It’s like my adopted son in Luzhou—was I lacking a son? If I hadn’t acknowledged him, the mountain people would never trust me. It is the same with the people here. Each village listens to proclamations but not orders. Unless I harden my heart and send troops to suppress them, their attitude will remain the same as before. And after I leave, it will return to the same as well. If things ever need to be solved by force, it only proves I have failed—that I wasn’t capable, so the people refused to cooperate.” Zhang Zhong began venting his frustrations. 

And every word was true. If not for the fact he remembered this was a stage written in his son’s plan—and that he was acting according to that plan—this would have been perfect sincerity.

The three old men never expected that Xiaobao had even dug a pit for them before leaving, waiting for them to step into it themselves. 

Listening to Zhang Zhong’s complaints, seeing his helpless expression, they all felt the same way—Yizhou was indeed difficult to govern.

Every year the native tribute was hard to gather; they practically had to beg each household. If other methods were not used, the people would never cooperate.

Old Man Zhang drank the cooled tea in front of him, smacked his lips twice, and asked, “So what method did you think of?”

Old Man Bi and Old Man Yao both leaned forward, fully focused. They wanted to see what methods the Zhang Family would bring out in such a situation. 

This was different from before. In Luzhou, the mountain people cooperated because the Zhang Family had genuinely brought them benefits and because Zhang Zhong had taken in a son—and they had suffered disaster, so things were easier. But Yizhou had not suffered disaster. They could hardly cause one.

This time, Zhang Zhong kept silent. He appeared deep in thought, but his hands kept refilling their cups. 

Not until the seventh infusion of tea did he finally speak: “My method is simple. Since I cannot use my official status to earn the people’s trust, then I will become brothers with them. First I invite them to play. Tomorrow I will visit their villages and play with them. Exchange gifts—don’t let them feel they owe me, and don’t let them feel I owe them. After some days, once we are familiar with each other, I will use the identity of a brother to discuss ways to get rich together. That way, they won’t think I’m deceiving them. To be honest, I’ve already prepared the rooster and the yellow paper. I even had someone bring a surgical knife. I’m ready to drink blood and swear brotherhood if needed. I’ve always believed that the dignity of an official isn’t in how high and mighty he appears, but in whether the people truly treat him sincerely—and whether he can help them live better lives. Even if I were stripped of my rank entirely and returned to Sanshui County, would I lack face? When I was exiled to Luzhou as a lowly clerk—did I lose face? Even my life is something I’d put on the line. ‘For the sake of the country’s fortune, one must not avoid danger.’ How could I shrink back because of personal gain or loss?”

As Zhang Zhong repeated the words his son and daughter-in-law had once told him, he suddenly felt noble and heroic.

The three old men were shocked. They had not expected such bold words from Zhang Zhong. And they had to admit—he was right. Especially Old Man Bi. He had personally witnessed the scene when Zhang Zhong left Huayuan County—ten thousand people sending him off. He knew exactly how the “Ten-Thousand People Memorial” of Luzhou had come about.

Even if the Zhang Family lost everything—positions, wealth—so long as they remained alive, in any place like this, one shout from them and the people would gather in support.

If they didn’t do these things, then it would be wrong. This thought suddenly appeared in Old Man Bi’s heart.

Zhang Zhong continued pouring tea. This was the ninth infusion, yet the tea was still rich in color. Old Man Yao suddenly noticed and asked: “What is going on with this tea? When I drink West Lake Dragon Well, it turns pale and flavorless after eight infusions. How can yours still brew?”

“It’s not that your tea is inferior. We’ve recently adopted a new roasting method, and the leaves picked this season are exceptionally good. That’s why it can be brewed two more times. After this infusion, it will be light. Just two extra brews. Please, enjoy.” Though Zhang Zhong spoke modestly, he was secretly pleased. 

His son and daughter-in-law had made this tea using their new method—of course he saved the good stuff for his own family. The tea sent to the palace was only seven-brew quality. They didn’t dare send the best—what if in a bad harvest year the tea quality worsened? How would they explain it?

Old Man Zhang never cared about such things. As long as it tasted strong, he liked it. He even felt that the ***tea they brewed heavily was better than Dragon Well. Whether it could brew a hundred times had nothing to do with him.

But Old Man Bi and Old Man Yao understood very clearly—an extra infusion wasn’t a small matter. Even a single extra brew would raise the price drastically.

This type of tea was no longer for aiding digestion. If they truly wanted digestion, they would drink black tea. Green tea was about status. One step higher meant being a level above others.

Old Man Bi glanced at the tea box beside him, filled with small clusters of Dragon Well leaves. 

Finally he couldn’t hold back: “New technique? Very well. I’ll try it when we return.”

Zhang Zhong had already prepared three boxes—another step written in the plan. Even the detail of which elder would ask for it first was predicted. His son’s “plan” was not a plan—it was a lifesaving manual. He foresaw everything.

“Even if Master Bi didn’t say it, I was going to have new tea delivered to you later. Try the new method. Tell me how it is.Master Bi, do you like outdoor activities?” As he spoke, he pushed the three tea boxes in front of the three elders.

Old Man Zhang was the quickest—he hugged the box to his chest, already planning to send it to Elder Zhang Jiuling later. “Outdoor activity? What kind of activity is that?”

“Activities outside the house—such as riding horses, archery, alpine skiing. Alpine skiing is perfect here. The mountains already have snow. In winter it will be even more spectacular. Using skis to rush downhill—you’ll feel freezing wind, surging blood, and soaring heroism.” Zhang Zhong awkwardly quoted the advertisement slogan his son had written.

Seeing the three elders nod, he continued: “This place is too remote. Even if we develop it like a tourist attraction, people won’t come unless it has something special. That specialty is alpine skiing. Instead of transporting goods out through difficult terrain, it’s better to bring people in. Let them experience alpine skiing. Then find a river with fast current and offer rafting. Let them enjoy local songs and dances. Then write a few fairy-tale-like stories and print them as books. Build a fairy-tale world here. That way the locals can earn money and can interact more with outsiders. This benefits the people. I ask Master Bi, Master Yao, and Master Zhang to help me. Use your names to invite officials of Jiannan Circuit or wealthy sons to come skiing and compose poems. The first group will be free of charge, with gifts included.”

Zhang Zhong wasn’t afraid they would refuse. He had already laid out all the reasoning earlier—refusing now would mean disregarding the people’s wellbeing.

As expected, all three elders happily agreed. They wanted to help. Yet Old Man Bi could not shake the feeling something wasn’t right—especially how the tea had been so perfectly prepared, as if waiting for this moment.

It felt like he had been tricked.