Chapter 38: Tea and Empire

June 22nd, the second year of the Xining era.

Ouyang Xiu, serving as the Deputy Commissioner of the Bureau of Military Affairs, was appointed Prefect of Kaifeng while retaining his position at the Bureau. His disciples handled the administrative burdens for him. Su Shi was promoted to Academician of the Longtu Pavilion and tasked with managing the affairs of the Kaifeng Prefectural Office.

Sima Guang successfully petitioned the Emperor to allow the Censorate to exclusively manage three official gazettes, intended to collect public opinion and disseminate imperial decrees.

Lü Huiqing’s national debt proposal was passed. Beyond the eight million strings of cash borne by the Jingji Circuit, the other circuits were to share the burden proportionally based on their annual tax returns.

The military reform proposal drafted by Wang Anshi and Wen Yanbo was rejected and sent back for revision, following strong opposition from Fu Bi, Han Qi, Zeng Gong, and Li Tingzhi.

Old Wang returned to his office looking haggard. He collapsed into his chair, sinking into a stupor. His subordinates remained silent; everyone knew how deeply frustrated the Chancellor was.

Over thirty new reform measures had been proposed, but the most critical one—the national debt—had been snatched away, and now the military reform had been struck down. In his first year as a chief minister, how could he hope to command the respect of the realm?

In the summer heat, the scorching sun baked the earth, and even the air felt restless. Amidst this oppressive atmosphere, the younger Chancellor entered the room, glanced at his colleagues, nodded, and walked into his father’s office.

Wang Anshi seemed not to notice him; he remained staring blankly at his cluttered desk.

"Father?" Wang Pang called out softly. "Father, why don't we try to make a deal with Li Chang'an?"

Suddenly, Wang Anshi moved. He grabbed an inkstone and hurled it at his son with a loud thud. "Get out! All of you, get out!"

Wang Pang carefully patted his father’s back and chest, poured a cup of tea, and placed it within his reach. "Father, calm down. We still have a chance. We still have the Market Exchange Law, the Equitable Transport Law, the Square Field and Equitable Tax Law, and the Exemption Law. If we can push through just one, this year won't have been a waste. Besides, everyone knows the Green Sprouts Law and the national debt were your ideas—that credit cannot be taken away."

The teacup was smashed violently against the floor, shattering into pieces. Old Wang stared hard at his son's face. "Do you also think I am doing this to seek credit, to cling to this wretched position of Chancellor?"

If not, then what? A flicker of hesitation appeared in Wang Pang’s eyes, which his father instantly caught.

*Slap! Slap! Slap!*

Wang Pang was struck by three consecutive slaps from his father, leaving him seeing stars and his ears ringing.

"Father!!!" At twenty-five, this was the first time his father had ever struck him so ruthlessly.

"Get out! Get out now, and stay away from me!"

This was the first time Wang Anshi had lost his composure since becoming Chancellor.

In contrast to the Wang household, Li Chang'an and Qian Weiming were in much higher spirits. Although Sima Guang was pedantic and stubborn, he kept his word and delivered the calligraphic authorization—the first official newspaper license of the Great Song Dynasty.

Though it was a private venture, it bore the imprimatur of the Censorate. Editor-in-Chief Qian Weiming, in his capacity as the head of the newspaper, held an honorary position at the Censorate, equivalent to a seventh-rank official. The subordinate editors, lead writers, and clerks were all given titles, effectively securing them official status. However, the titles were tied to the positions rather than the individuals; Li Chang'an described this as "enjoying the equivalent treatment of a specific rank."

With the newspaper established, they needed to plan the layout, select themes, and prepare the inaugural issue. Setting aside other work, the most urgent task was to maintain the momentum of their economic articles. Before the weekly edition officially launched, they had to continue releasing standalone economic commentaries.

Among seventy or eighty potential topics—such as "The Grand Canal: The Dragon Vein of China," "The Tragedy of the Yellow River: The Dilemma of Hebei and Hedong," and "The Art of Clay: On Great Song Porcelain"—the newspaper staff unanimously agreed to save the most explosive topic for the inaugural issue. There was another reason, of course: everyone was new to the job, the training had only lasted a few days, and they weren't yet capable of writing deeply analytical pieces.

As a group of novices, Li Chang'an had to take the lead himself.

"Tea and Empire," Li Chang'an decided. That would be the topic for the next piece. He led the team himself, planning to spend five days conducting research in Bianjing, after which he would write an economic commentary on how tea had shaped Chinese civilization.

Tea was as ancient as silk; it had been a significant symbol of China since the legends of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors. Now, the weekly publication intended to analyze, from an economic perspective, how tea influenced civilization. When the staff heard this, they thought it was brilliant—as high as the towers of the Nanxun Gate.

Connecting a small leaf to the civilization of China and the Empire of the Great Song was a profoundly advanced and insightful topic. It wasn't just about getting the work done; they were eager to participate in this project just to learn this way of thinking.

"Good. Editor Qian, select the members for the research group. We will hold the opening discussion this afternoon and formally assign the reporting tasks tomorrow."

Li Chang'an had never edited a magazine before, but he had helped his professors write papers during his undergraduate years; this wasn't too difficult for him. It was just a social science paper, after all. With a group of Great Song elites as his researchers—and without the pressure of plagiarism checkers or academic committees—a lack of extreme rigor was understandable.

In the afternoon, Qian Weiming brought ten people to the meeting.

"Alright, I will now open the discussion to explain the goal and significance of this topic, and then everyone can share their opinions..."

"Tea began to flourish in the Han Dynasty, becoming an important trade product on the Silk Road. By the Sui and Tang dynasties, this trend intensified, and it eventually became the fifth largest trade item after grain, iron, silk, and porcelain. Its annual export value once peaked at three million strings of cash..."

"In this research, we will explore how tea has influenced national culture, shaped lifestyles, generated tax revenue, and provided export profits..."

"We need to understand the various taxes, storage, transportation, and consumption of tea across the more than forty major production areas within the empire..."

"In this article, we must make the world realize just how important this single leaf is to the empire..."

Most of the members were students from the Imperial Academy; some came from middle-class or wealthy families and were not unfamiliar with tea. Especially those from the south, some of whom even had families that operated tea plantations or were merchants involved in the tea monopoly. Yet, it was the first time any of them had heard it said that tea was a commodity vital to the stability of the empire.

After several rounds of discussion, the group gradually found their direction.

"Now, I will deploy the tasks. Work in pairs and begin the industry research. Group One: go to the Ministry of Revenue and the Three Departments to survey the changes in the industry scale since the Han and Tang dynasties, the total volume of tea trade in the Great Song, and the annual tax figures."

"Group Two: go to the Tea Monopoly Bureau and the Paper Currency Bureau to check the recorded data on tea operations and market scale in the Great Song."

"Group Three: you are responsible for foreign trade in both the north and south, determining the scale, methods of trade, and taxation..."

Watching Li Chang'an organize the work in such an orderly and experienced manner, Qian Weiming felt his pride deeply wounded. *I am the one from an aristocratic family. You are just a spoiled playboy who hasn't even studied properly—how can you steal my work?*

*Though I am surely not as capable as you, Heaven is truly blind; I have spent my whole life reading.*

By the end of the afternoon, everyone was clear on their tasks. Li Chang'an began distributing research funds—not much, five strings of cash for each person.

"Don't decline. This is work, and everyone's labor deserves respect."

If you want people to work, you have to pay them. In case someone was short on money, one had to be careful not to be a heartless boss, lest someone burn your house down.