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If once upon a time it had been Fei Qian himself who had to tread with great caution, constantly observing and speculating upon the inner thoughts of others, now, without his even noticing it, he himself had become the target of other people's observation and conjecture...
This was also a matter beyond his control.
When the sovereign favors a slender waist, palace maids starve themselves to death—such is simply the way of things.
Jia Qu stepped forward a couple of paces and stood at Fei Qian's side. He hesitated for a moment, but then spoke anyway: "...The academy has only just been established. I fear that those who come will, for the most part, be the sons of humble families..." Having finished, he studied Fei Qian's expression.
"Humble families, ah..."
This matter of class consciousness...
No matter what stage of advancement a society reaches, no matter what words or explanations are used to disguise it, so long as classes continue to exist for even a single day, the scissors differential between classes can never be eliminated.
In the Han Dynasty, the term "humble family" did not refer to commoners.
That was because commoners did not even possess a door; even their windows were boarded shut with strips of wood...
"Humble families" referred to those households that had once known glory and prominence but had since fallen into decay, or to the destitute offshoots that had splintered away from great clans—people much like the original Fei Qian or like Jia Qu himself. They had family traditions of learning, they had books and scrolls they could read, but they did not have much in the way of money or wealth, nor any significant amount of landed property, servants, and so on...
Or, to put it another way, the humble families were the spare tires of the aristocratic gentry clans.
Ordinary farming households had no way of altering their own destinies. The lowest class found all doors completely shut to them from the very beginning.
"Shuliang, what is your view on this matter?" Fei Qian asked, gazing at a cluster of peach blossoms on the branch before him, blooming in their full, radiant glory. At the foot of the peach tree, faint traces could be seen, imprinted by the passage of both people and animals.
Jia Qu pondered this briefly before replying, "If it were my own personal opinion, I would be in favor of it. Just a few years ago, I desperately desired a certain book and yet sought it in vain... However, when it comes to certain great and renowned clans, I fear that this may..."
Fei Qian nodded. This response was very much in line with Jia Qu's character—upright, direct, and unembellished.
Over these many days of gradually working together, Fei Qian had managed to figure out Jia Qu to a certain extent. People's characters and approaches all differ. For instance, if these exact words were put unchanged to Cui Hou, Cui Hou would probably have simply said the same thing as Xu Huang had said on that earlier occasion—"My Lord, you decide as you see fit; I have no objections..."
"Shuliang, do you see that small path over there?" Fei Qian pointed at the ground beneath their feet, and then further gestured toward the narrow little mountain trail that wound its way down from the summit. "The peach and the plum do not speak, yet beneath them a path naturally forms."
Jia Qu contemplated these words for a moment, then solemnly cupped his hands and said, "I understand now. My thanks to you, my lord."
Fei Qian chuckled.
This was precisely one of the advantages of being in a high position. Take, for example, the present moment—had Fei Qian said anything at all?
He had said absolutely nothing, right?
He had merely spoken of peach blossoms and peach trees. Did that have the faintest connection to humble families or the lack thereof?
It was much like the way in the later era that whenever the bare-bottomed chrysanthemum bloomed, butterflies would naturally come fluttering and dancing around...
...
But Jia Qu could understand...
Very well.
So be it, if you understand, then you understand.
In truth, Fei Qian was not only thinking about the "doors" of the humble families. He had many more measures in mind to loosen up these doors and windows. It was just that none of them could be carried out quite yet.
Take, for instance, the civilization and education of the Hu tribes. How was one to civilize them?
Could it be accomplished merely by holding up a book? One must certainly employ both the carrot and the stick.
Add to that the art of brainwashing—for example, the entire methodology of that certain foreign health supplement company from the later era. Was that not an exceedingly powerful and supremely effective model of brainwashing?
But all of these things would have to be done gradually. There could be no rushing...
At the very least, the first steps had already begun. The Xiongnu had started using the five-zhu coins at the markets. The spring plowing, with the help of the Hu tribes' horses, was also smoothly underway. Even here on this Peach Blossom Mountain, the peach blossoms had bloomed...
To undertake urgent matters with deliberate, measured calm—this was something Fei Qian had learned back in the offices of the later era. It was also the single most important reason he had been able to sit securely in the chair of the old office hand, the one the boss always sought out first whenever any matter arose.
At present, was there a shortage of talented personnel?
Yes!
At present, was there a shortage of grain and fodder?
Yes!
At present, was there a shortage of money and wealth?
Yes!
At present, was there a shortage of soldiers and troops?
Yes!
But should he allow his rhythm and pace to fall into chaos simply because of the desperate and urgent need for these things? Panic and haste were far more likely to cause affairs to be botched completely. It is like a racing tourney: one must first stand at the starting point before one can glimpse the finish line. If one is not even very clear about where one's own starting point lies, how can one ever speak of the finish line?
This very Qu Gateway before his eyes, this Peach Mountain—this was the starting point of Fei Qian's talent pool.
The cultivated fields between the Xin River and the Fen River, spread across the three territories of Puzi, Yong'an, and Pingyang—this was the starting point of Fei Qian's grain and provisions.
The demands of the Hu tribes at Beiqu, the construction needs in Pingyang, and the commercial and trade exchanges with the four commanderies of Xihe, Hedong, Taiyuan, and Shangdang—this was the starting point of Fei Qian's money and wealth.
The gathering and incorporation of the scattered small tribes on the periphery, the consolidation of reclusive Han settlers who lived in scattered isolation, the drilling of troops, and the recruitment of Hu cavalry—this was the starting point of Fei Qian's military forces...
Could there be any piece of land anywhere more suited to him than this one?
It was a matter of timing, and a matter of fortune.
Even Fei Qian himself had never imagined that he would now possess such a foundation. Fragile though it was, the space for growth was immense. To the north lay Xihe, which could serve as a friend and a reliance. To the east, Taiyuan Commandery blocked the Heishan Bandits. To the south, Hedong and the great river separated the conflict between Yuan and Dong. And to the west lay Shang Commandery...
The most critical point of all was that in this territory, there were no great aristocratic clans like the Wei clan to drag at his hands and feet. Whether in Pingyang or in Shang Commandery, any land he could open up and reclaim would be land without an owner!
Once the surrounding scattered tribes had been swept clean and the rear area was stable, he could then push forward along the line of Beiqu. Those who were willing to submit would be subjected to the brainwashing-style civilizing process. Those who were unwilling to submit...
Hmm, would there really be any Hu tribes who were unwilling?
Fei Qian strolled upward and reached the very peak of the mountain.
At the summit of this Peach Blossom Mountain was a small, level platform, not terribly large, but spacious enough for five or six people to stand without difficulty. Fei Qian and Jia Qu stood there prominently, while the personal guards hung back a few paces.
Far off, to the east of Pingyang City, on a level field that had been repurposed as a parade ground, Huang Cheng was leading the soldiers in their training drills. Even here, the faint shouts and cries of command seemed faintly audible. The yellow dust kicked up swirled around the soldiers, coiling like a yellow dragon slithering across the training field...
In the cultivated fields adjacent to the Pingyang irrigation channels, farming households were all laboring diligently. The dark brown soil was gradually being replaced by specks of emerald green, as though hope itself were being planted seed by seed into the great earth...
To the northwest of Pingyang, column after column of cavalry was making preparations. This was the combined force of Ma Yue and Huchuquan, about to commence the mopping-up of the scattered Hu tribal camps throughout the Pingyang and Puzi region...
The spring sun was warm and pleasant, its rays falling upon the body with a gentle, comforting heat.
"Shuliang," Fei Qian said, "perhaps one day, your name will be inscribed in the annals of history." He closed his eyes, spread his arms wide toward the sky, and savored the warmth and hope on his face and body. He smiled faintly and spoke in slow, measured tones.
Jia Qu gazed far into the distance, standing with solemn reverence. He remained silent for a long while after hearing these words, and then finally said, "...If such a thing could come to pass, then this life of mine would hold no regrets..."