Chapter 34: The Growing Prosperity of Gaoling

Chapter 34: The Growing Prosperity of Gaoling

When Baihe heard Li Tai’s words, she replied promptly, “It hasn’t rained for nearly forty days; the weather has been perfect. I hear the wheat harvest is only a few days away. If it rains now, it will be quite troublesome!”

“Good, good, good!” Li Tai nodded. Baihe was, after all, a member of the inner household who never had to worry about food or clothing, so she was insensitive to the drought. But for the common people, forty days without rain was already the beginning of a drought.

He had spent these days in his room transcribing books and occasionally handling matters for the library. By the time he came to his senses, time had slipped away so quickly. Li Tai looked at his red, aching hands and wondered how Li Chengqian was doing with his five hundred transcriptions. It was a pity—if he weren’t afraid that handing in his work proactively would lead Li Shimin to increase his quota, he would certainly go and provoke his brother. Thinking of this, the aching in his hands felt almost worthwhile.

“I remember the most important event in the third year of Zhenguan was the military campaign against the Turks during the autumn harvest. Did a drought occur as well? Sigh, I only have a vague impression of the locust plague in the Tang Dynasty because Li Shimin ate the locusts; I really can’t recall the other disasters clearly!”

Li Tai scratched his head. He was no genius with a photographic memory who could recall every history book he had ever read. Dealing with locusts was one thing—a fool might have one good idea in a thousand thoughts—but when it came to droughts or floods, Li Tai was truly helpless. Even in the industrial age, these were headaches, and one could at most assist in post-disaster reconstruction. As for prevention, that involved massive national engineering projects. Unless he were a Prime Minister overseeing the entire state’s affairs, he could hardly build water conservancy facilities himself.

Seeing Li Tai’s hesitant expression, Baihe asked, “Does Your Highness wish to continue reciting the student roster?”

“Not today!” Li Tai’s face twitched as if he had recalled something terrifying, and he shook his head at Baihe. Ever since he had created files for the students, he had been memorizing them. He would even wander around the academy and try to recognize the students he encountered. Relying on his status as the Prince of Yue and the Headmaster, the students were curious about him and held him in high regard. They would chat, and Li Tai would help them resolve common student issues while correcting his own impressions of them. Only in this way were they no longer just cold names on a list, but living, breathing people.

Although he would inevitably mistake one for another, no one had the heart to blame a nine-year-old child. Li Tai, playing the part of the shameless, would simply continue reciting and identifying them even when wrong, which made Baihe roll her eyes. She felt this behavior was too unseemly, but as his maid, she was helpless. Yet Li Tai knew that anyone coming out of this academy would naturally belong to his faction once they became officials. They would surely gravitate toward him, and the better he knew them, the more he could trust them later. So, he had to memorize their files and faces, waiting to see who would stand out.

With about eight hundred students per session, memorizing five people a day meant he would be done in half a year. After all, the brain was like any other tool—it became sharper with use. He believed that once he got the hang of it, memorizing these files would become easier. It was difficult at first, and even though he pushed through, he often made mistakes. After half a year, however, he had made progress, even if he still forgot many of them as he went along.

“Now that I’ve finally finished my tasks, I plan to go for a stroll around Gaoling!” Li Tai sighed.

“I shall have the carriage prepared immediately,” Baihe replied.

“No need for an ox cart. Just have Lu Sima take a few men to follow,” Li Tai said. “Let’s travel incognito this time.”

“Then I shall notify Lu Sima at once,” Baihe paused, then added, “I will accompany you.”

“Fine, fine, you may come along!” Li Tai did not object.

Li Tai emerged from the Agricultural Academy, followed by the maid Baihe on his left and the burly Lu Anshou on his right. The guards arranged by Lu Anshou trailed at a respectful distance; if an assassin were to appear, Lu Anshou would only need to block the blade, and the guards would quickly reach Li Tai’s side.

Gaoling, a small county, had been abolished by Li Shimin in the first year of Zhenguan. The siphon effect of Chang’an was so powerful that it had a devastating impact on the talent pool of surrounding areas before the city was even full. However, once Chang’an became overcrowded, these surrounding counties would naturally absorb the people who could no longer stay. But it was only the third year of Zhenguan, and after years of continuous disasters, Li Shimin had left the people to fend for themselves. Consequently, the counties around Chang’an were desolate, if not entirely devoid of life.

This was also why no aristocratic families contested Li Tai’s efforts to organize labor for land reclamation. The families could easily swallow up the mature fields of disaster-stricken peasants, but they had no interest in the land Li Tai was reclaiming; the first harvest from such fields might not even yield a single *dan* per *mu*. Even if they wanted to intervene, they would wait until the land could produce more than two *dan*. Moreover, since the land was under the name of Li Tai’s Agricultural Academy, anyone eyeing it would be crossing him—a prospect no one in their right mind would entertain unless Li Tai lost his influence entirely.

As the Agricultural Academy settled in Gaoling, Li Shimin had begun to consider restoring the county. A major reason was the increasing number of people congregating there. Li Tai had gathered refugees, built housing, and re-registered them, keeping a firm grip on the local population’s information. With the academy’s students and teachers numbering nearly two thousand, plus the refugees, the area had grown into a small town of four or five thousand people. Li Shimin seemed to turn a blind eye, leaving the management to Li Tai.

Li Tai utilized the traffic from Chang’an. For instance, Chang’an had a curfew, but Gaoling did not. Apart from the walled, closed-off area of the school, Gaoling itself had no city walls—only fences erected by residents to keep out wolves. If that were all, it would just be a small town dependent on a school. But once Kongque constructed a massive shopping plaza on the site Li Tai had designated, things began to change. Since it was only twenty or thirty *li* from Chang’an—a distance a normal person could walk in a day—Kongque had goods from the East and West Markets of Chang’an delivered there. Most importantly, the shopping plaza was open twenty-four hours a day, closing only at the hour of the Rat, which meant the area remained lively even at night, fostering a small-scale market.

The main obstacle to true twenty-four-hour operation was lighting. Candles existed, but they were made of animal fat, producing black smoke and a foul odor, and required further improvement. These candles were considered tribute goods, so the more affordable lighting remained torches and bonfires. Although Li Tai wanted Gaoling to host visitors from Chang’an around the clock, it was a matter of cost; they would have to wait until the Moke Department could spare time to research candles. Even so, the growing popularity of the plaza attracted more foot traffic, and the locals began renting out their homes for extra income.

Naturally, the land prices around the plaza skyrocketed as winter turned to spring. The prices couldn’t compare to Chang’an, but if Chang’an were considered the "Second Ring," then Li Tai’s Gaoling was now the "Third Ring," complete with perfect amenities and business opportunities. Merchants who had originally focused on Chang’an sensed the opportunity and headed over, though they couldn’t buy land and had to rent. The land remained in Li Tai’s hands; after all, his academy would need money, and he might eventually have to rely on these rents to survive, as his own life here was quite austere.

“However, as a ‘Third Ring’ area merely蹭 (hitching a ride) on Chang’an’s traffic, if I want housing prices to exceed those inside Chang’an, I’ll have to wait until the library is open to scholars. Then, Gaoling will have its own unique appeal. But by the time that happens, Father will surely come to inquire. If I hand these properties over to him, I wonder if I could get myself appointed as the County Magistrate of Gaoling…”

Li Tai rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “Forget it, let’s wait until Father asks.”

“Your… Fourth Young Master!” Baihe watched Li Tai rubbing his chin, looking like a little adult, and said, “Shall we go to Kongque’s mall together? I hear from Kongque that it has everything!”

“If we don’t take a carriage, it’s quite far from the academy to that mall—at least ten *li*!” Lu Anshou frowned. As the Sima of the Prince of Yue’s mansion, he was quite against Li Tai traveling such a distance.

Hearing Lu Anshou’s words, even Baihe sighed, “Your Highness, why don’t you have Kongque build the mall closer? It would be so much more convenient for us to go back and forth!”

“If the mall is too close to the school, the students’ minds will easily wander!” Li Tai shrugged. The real reason was that he wanted the Gaoling area to develop under his own momentum. He had planned it this way from the start, keeping the mall away from the school so that its influence would radiate into areas that didn’t overlap with the campus, maximizing its impact.

“Let’s rent a carriage!” Lu Anshou suggested. “Though it’s not as smooth as an ox cart, it’s much faster.” Generally, ox carts were much steadier than horse carriages. For those not yet of age to ride horses, ox carts were the preferred choice for officials and nobles. Once they reached the age to ride, everyone who wasn’t lame chose horses. However, draft oxen were too precious for commoners to ride. Usually, only families of high-ranking officials of the fourth grade or above would ride oxen. Thus, horse carriages became the first choice for commoners. The imperial court encouraged this, providing subsidies or tax relief for the carriage industry.

“Good!” Li Tai nodded to Lu Anshou. “You arrange it.”

Soon, Lu Anshou found a nearby carriage shop, paid a deposit, and rented one. Li Tai looked at the shop and realized that the presence of such a business near the academy showed that merchants had already smelled the opportunity between the academy and the mall. It also meant that the teachers at his academy likely frequented Kongque’s mall often.

Li Tai watched the driver operating the carriage steadily and asked, “Young man, you drive this road so smoothly. You’ve traveled it many times? Do many people from the academy come and go?”

“It’s alright, about five or six trips a day,” the young driver replied. “The owner says that the aristocratic families are already sending books here, so they will surely send their children to study later. The Agricultural Academy is strict now and doesn’t let students out, but once those young aristocratic masters arrive, they will certainly be able to come and go freely. If I wait until then to buy this land for a carriage shop, I’ll miss my chance, so the boss spent a large sum of money to set up here!”

“Oh!” Li Tai was thoughtful at the driver’s words and said, “Your owner is truly bold. Isn’t he afraid of losing all his money?”

“That’s why he’s the boss!” the driver said with some admiration. “But it’s also good luck. It’s been sunny these past few days, and running five or six trips a day doesn’t take too much effort; the work isn’t too hard.”

“What, you don’t run on rainy days?” Li Tai asked.

“It’s not that, it’s just that the road gets muddy when it rains, and washing the carriage afterward is quite a hassle,” the driver said helplessly.

Li Tai nodded in understanding. After all, everyone prefers a job with less work, more pay, and proximity to home. If it rained, the driver would have an extra chore to do after work, which no one would like.

“This road, however, does need to be paved. That would shorten the distance between Chang’an and Gaoling!” Li Tai looked at the dirt road and made a mental note.