Chapter 29: Searching for Cao Rixiu (Please Vote)

Wang Anshi hungrily absorbed the information from the pages, as if a door to a new world had been flung open. Although he aspired to be a sage and had previously studied many military classics, he was nonetheless extraordinarily excited to see a notebook filled with such military secrets and strategic concepts.

For a man who had never set foot on a battlefield, reading through strategies constructed with data and maps was as addictive as a poison. After flipping through it from beginning to end three times, Wang Anshi summoned his aides to study it together.

"Decapitation tactics, attrition tactics, demoralization tactics, commercial warfare... have any of you ever seen these before?"

His aides were all seasoned, pragmatic elites with profound insights in their respective fields, but when it came to military affairs, they were left dumbfounded. This was nothing like The Art of War by Sun Tzu, The Six Secret Teachings, Cao Cao’s New Book, or The Military Strategy of Duke Wei!

For instance, one entry read: "The primary objective of war is to destroy the enemy's will to resist. One must inflict upon the enemy the behaviors they fear most: annihilate their population, seize their cattle and sheep, burn their pastures, and raze their cities..."

Then there was an even more devious suggestion: "The Northwest relies primarily on goat herding. Goats are vicious by nature; they dig up grass roots when they graze, causing pastures to degrade and leaving the land vulnerable to wind and sand. Our dynasty should purchase two hundred thousand goats from Western Xia annually, causing their land to turn into desert and rendering them unable to sustain a population."

Wang Anshi thought to himself that if all military manuals were written like this, he would have long ago become a master strategist.

Cao Rixiu—had the Cao family really sent such a man to the Western Army?

He called his son, Wang Pang, over and whispered a few instructions. Wang Pang exited the study and headed toward the backyard. He slipped out through a side gate into an alleyway that led to a small neighboring residence, ensuring he was unseen by the spies monitoring the Prime Minister’s mansion.

Cao Rixiu—he had spent time among the playboys of the capital, yet he had never heard of such a person. Since his father had ordered him to verify the man's identity, he couldn't exactly march into the Duke of Cao's mansion and start asking questions. After some thought, he decided to seek out another socialite, the current husband of Princess Shu, Wang Shen.

Wang Shen was a descendant of the Northern Han nobility, a family that had once seen better days. He had neither pursued a civil nor a military career, but he was handsome and possessed a talent for painting. When it came to high-society connections, there was likely no one in all of Bianjing who could rival him.

Upon arriving, Wang Pang sent word, and Wang Shen soon came out to greet him personally. After an exchange of pleasantries, Prince Consort Wang invited the young master to the June Poetry Gathering he was organizing, where the Grand Princess would preside over the selection of the latest poetic and artistic talents.

"If I am free, I shall certainly attend. However, I have a matter I must ask for your help with, if it is convenient."

Hearing that the young master needed a favor, Wang Shen immediately agreed. "The Prime Minister toils for the state; any matter is a command, not a request. Speak freely, Ze, and I shall do my utmost to assist."

"It is nothing difficult. I am trying to find someone. Is there a Cao Rixiu in the Duke of Cao’s mansion? Which branch is he from, and what position does he hold?"

Wang Pang asked, but Wang Shen looked bewildered. He was well-versed in the affairs of the Duke’s mansion—it was one of the most significant hubs of influence in Bianjing, where any outsider would bow their head. He had no impression of a Cao Rixiu.

"How old is he? Who did he associate with in the past? What are his achievements? Furthermore, what is his original name? 'Rixiu' does not seem to fit the naming conventions of the Cao family."

When Wang Shen pointed this out, a realization dawned on Wang Pang. That was true; the Cao family used single-character names. How could there be one called "Rixiu"?

"He is in his early twenties, no older than twenty-eight. He shouldn't be from the main branches; I know those who usually frequent the capital. This man went to Hebei two or three years ago, and rumors say he is now under the command of General Zhong E in the Western Army. My father saw a policy paper he wrote—the viewpoints were sharp and the perspective unique. He is a man of talent."

"Very well. Within three days, I will investigate this person thoroughly and bring the information to your residence myself."

Wang Pang quickly stopped him. "No, just send word. Let us meet outside. My father’s position is sensitive, and you are, after all, a high-ranking member of the imperial family."

Leaving the Prince Consort’s mansion, a person vaguely flickered into Wang Pang's mind. Who had gone to Hebei and the Northwest with Cao Rixiu? Could it be Li Chang'an? Looking at the strange theories in that book, it seemed only that madman would harbor such ideas. If it truly were him, things would be difficult—his father's reforms could not afford to lose such a man.

Meanwhile, Li Chang'an was enjoying himself, his happiness built upon the suffering of Su Shi and Wang Fu. To avoid trouble, he had hidden within Su Shi’s official residence, living under the guise of a scholar from Shu. While others helped Su Shi with his official duties, Li Chang'an had taken on the role of a tutor.

He bombarded Su Shi daily with agricultural data, farming manuals, and theories on agricultural finance. These were all terms Su Shi had never heard, and the analytical approach was far removed from traditional Confucian classics, torturing the great poet to the point of a nervous breakdown.

Wang Fu had it even worse. After all, Su Shi was a genius; even if he learned slowly, he still far outpaced ordinary people. As for their son, Su Mai, once he had attached himself to this "Uncle," he refused to listen to anyone else. His head was filled with bizarre questions, and he spent his days spouting heresy.

"Studying is useless. Can I ever surpass my grandfather, my father, or my uncle? The books I’m supposed to read, they’ve already read for me!"

"Thawing the ice to seek carp? That’s for fools! Why not just use a rock to smash it or an awl to drill through?"

"Mother, tell me the story of the Green Snake and the White Snake; Uncle says it's a legend from our home in Meishan..."

Her son had been hard enough to teach before, but with Li Chang'an around, it was impossible. Every day it was stories about the Monkey King, snake spirits, or a "Spider-Man" who could fly and burrow.

Good heavens, let me go mad; why is this man so troublesome?

At that moment, Li Chang'an was leading ten-year-old Su Mai in an experiment. It was a hot summer, and the official residence was stifling. Li Chang'an claimed he could make ice in the summer, and he was using a copper basin to wreak havoc with goat milk.

"It’s here, it’s here! Uncle, Uncle, look, frost flowers!"

In the sweltering heat, an exasperated Wang Fu shut all the doors and windows tight, not wanting to hear a single sound from her son.

"Don't rush, it's just beginning. Today we’re making milkshakes and fruit bowls. We'll send some to your mother later so you won't have to face a 'bamboo-shoot-fried-in-pork' whipping tonight."

The two of them, one big and one small, were constantly causing trouble—bamboo dragonflies, Kongming lanterns, paper birds—it was truly a headache.

"Mother, Mother! I’ve brought you something delicious! You can't hit me tonight!"

The little one brought over a bowl filled with melon and peach chunks, the bowl itself ice-cold to the touch.

"You really made ice?"

The boy held his head high, looking remarkably proud. "Yes, Uncle taught me. You use saltpeter dissolved in water, and then take clean..."

Wang Fu felt dizzy, nearly fainting on the spot. Saltpeter—it cost seven strings of cash per stone, and this damned Li Chang'an was actually using it to spoil a child. It wouldn't be so bad if he were just spoiling him, but this child was being ruined! If he grew up to be a good-for-nothing, how much money would the family have to squander on such a playboy?

But she couldn't complain to anyone; he called her "sister" at every turn, and he was spending his own money. She was going crazy—when would this uncle finally leave their home?

Li Chang'an, meanwhile, was eating his iced goat milk fruit bowl while pondering a pile of beads and two copper rings. He had told the boy about bicycles; the transmission system was certainly too difficult to replicate, but building a toy car that a child could slide along with his feet shouldn't be a problem.

The difficulty lay in the bearings. Without mass production, the manual cost was too high. Carburized steel casting was out of the question, and ball bearings might not work either. After much thought, bronze rollers seemed the most reliable.

Two heads are better than one. Should he organize a "technology investment" session at the Finance Club? Perhaps he could make some money to recoup the losses from the Finance Weekly.