"Is it not simply that the more one does, the more one is criticized? Who does not understand that?"
Cao Cao gave a cold laugh. The sound rang clear in the hall, but no one joined him.
At first he had listened to Zhang Fei's rambling with little interest. Matters several centuries removed did not stir him. Yet once the voice on the luminous screen mentioned a "powerful chancellor," the Chancellor of Wei could hardly remain indifferent.
Even stripping away the unfamiliar terms, the general drift was clear enough. Hence his sneer.
Silence lingered in the hall. Then Liu Ye's voice rose.
"The Chancellor has acted greatly, and thus draws resentment. Yet no amount of slander can erase his achievements."
Zhang Fei slapped the table so hard that the cups rattled.
"Liu Ye, do you ever rest?"
Liu Ye flushed red. "You reckless fellow, how dare you—"
He stopped under Zhang Fei's stare.
Zhang Fei turned back to Cao Cao and patted his thigh as though consoling an old acquaintance.
"That is all true. But your Cao family truly did rather a lot."
"A few years back you said that without Old Cao, who knows how many would have called themselves emperor or king."
"Well then. You were the first to call yourself king. Your son was the first to call himself emperor. And he even posthumously styled you Emperor Wu of Wei."
In the corner, Xun Yu's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. There was sorrow in his eyes, but also a strange ease.
Cao Cao's face was a study in complexity.
The matter of early deaths among descendants could be argued. This, however, was harder to deny.
If not for sudden changes in Jingxiang, he might indeed already have been King of Wei.
To proclaim himself king. To have his son seize the throne. To see the dynasty fall within three generations.
Was that the unaltered history, the one without the luminous screen?
His fingers tightened involuntarily around Zhang Fei's arm.
"My history…"
"Why the hurry?" Zhang Fei waved him off. "You will see it sooner or later. If you refuse, I will drag you by the collar."
Cao Cao released him and said nothing. His mind churned.
Zhang Fei sighed again.
"A pity we did not invite Sun Shinwan-Ge. He would have enjoyed this."
Cao Cao understood at once. Only Sun Quan could be meant. Given Zhang Fei's fondness for chaos, such company would have been welcome indeed.
"Your memory of Wenyuan's exploits is quite precise," Cao Cao remarked dryly.
Zhang Fei's expression grew odd.
"That title was not mine to give," he said at last. "Later generations coined it."
Cao Cao snorted softly. "Later generations are fond of giving names. They give generously to the dead."
"They also collect interest," Zhang Fei replied. "With no mercy."
Cao Cao could not decide whether to laugh.
---
In the Hall of Broad Governance, Zhao Dezhao stood beside his father, watching the luminous screen.
Zhao Kuangyin spoke slowly, his voice winding through the changes of the Two Songs like a man tracing scars upon his own arm.
The voice upon the screen sounded young. Yet its conclusions were firm.
Zhao Dezhao frowned.
"It says that in Southern Song one might offend Mongolia or even the Son of Heaven. That sounds almost like praise."
"But why could one not offend the great clans and the literati? If powerful households cannot be restrained, how can annexation be curbed? And if the literati cannot be contradicted, how can policy be enacted?"
Zhao Kuangyin hesitated before replying.
"Dezhao, do you know how the histories record your death?"
Zhao Dezhao stiffened, then forced a smile.
"Whatever they wrote, I am still here."
"You were rebuked after speaking for the soldiers' rewards," Zhao Kuangyin said quietly. "You took your own life."
Zhao Dezhao's smile faded.
"And Defang?"
"There are doubts."
Zhao Kuangyin clasped his hands behind his back.
"When swords press at the neck, the historian may bend his brush. When personal preference intrudes, he may omit. A blade severs the head. A crooked brush severs the name."
Zhao Dezhao let out a long breath.
"In that case, this Hai Rui must have been most upright indeed, if he could be mentioned so plainly. Which emperor was fortunate enough to have him?"
Zhao Guangyi, standing slightly behind, watched as Zhao Dezhao subtly shifted until his back faced him entirely. His own thoughts grew heavier.
---
[Lightscreen]
Most dynasties, in their final years, encountered deficits.
When change was sought, the first aim was revenue.
Let us take the Great Ming as example.
Under Wanli, land tax had been raised incrementally. Yet by the Tianqi reign, the treasury still faced a shortfall of over two million taels.
From the first year of Tianqi, various non agricultural levies were imposed.
In the first year, miscellaneous silver, salt tax silver, and customs duties totaled 1.27 million taels.
By the third year, salt, reed, and customs brought 410,000 taels, while miscellaneous silver alone rose to 2.3 million taels, covering the deficit and producing surplus.
Tianqi could manage this in part because Ming commercial taxation was exceedingly simple.
House collapse tax. Wine and vinegar tax. Contract tax. Fishery levy. Market stall tax.
Aside from wine, none promised large revenue merely by name.
Miscellaneous silver was largely connected to commercial taxation. To prevent interference from princely houses, it bypassed regular tax offices.
Had greater action been taken to reclaim salt certificates from imperial clans and consort families, to rectify salt administration, and to separate wine into monopoly taxation, Ming might have fared better.
Salt is consumed by all. Yet dynasties near collapse repeatedly increase salt tax, stirring resentment and fostering smugglers like Huang Chao.
Wine is less essential. In many later states, tobacco and alcohol are major revenue sources. Song wine tax reached tens of millions of strings. Ming, though larger, collected negligible wine tax.
Li Zicheng once lamented that the Son of Heaven possessed no more than two hundred thousand in reserve. How could he not perish?
Among unified dynasties, Ming's end by poverty stands nearly alone.
---
In Huagai Hall, the air turned cold.
"Poverty?" Zhu Yuanzhang's voice rasped.
"Not destroyed by northern enemies?"
Silence.
Then his voice rose.
"How can a dynasty die because it lacks silver?"
The anger was genuine.
Zhu Biao felt his own throat tighten.
If Ming fell to former northern foes, that was already bitter. To fall because the treasury was empty was humiliation.
Zhu Yuanzhang paced.
"Armies require grain. Horses require fodder. Walls require repair. Without silver, how is any of this done?"
Li Shanchang bowed.
"Your Majesty, revenue is the root."
Zhu Yuanzhang shot him a look.
"Then why does the screen say we died poor?"
No one answered.
Zhu Biao ventured carefully.
"Father, if the salt administration remains in private hands, and wine taxation is neglected, while land tax alone bears the burden, imbalance follows."
Zhu Yuanzhang stopped pacing.
"You suggest we seize salt from our own kin?"
Zhu Biao did not retreat.
"If kin draw profit while the treasury is empty, resentment will fall not upon them but upon the throne."
Zhu Yuanzhang stared at him.
"So the Son of Heaven must wrestle silver from uncles and cousins?"
Zhu Biao allowed himself a faint smile.
"Better to wrestle silver than to wrestle rebels."
A faint snort escaped one of the ministers before he could stop himself.
Zhu Yuanzhang glanced over sharply. The minister straightened at once.
Zhu Su, standing nearby, spoke in a measured tone.
"If salt is raised repeatedly, the common people suffer first. If wine is taxed properly, those who indulge bear more of the burden."
Zhu Yuanzhang grunted.
"You would tax wine?"
Zhu Su replied, "If men can afford wine daily, they can afford to contribute to the state."
One minister muttered, "Your Highness speaks as though he has never tasted strong drink."
Zhu Su heard him and smiled.
"I have tasted it. That is why I know it is not essential."
A faint ripple of restrained laughter passed through the hall.
Zhu Yuanzhang's expression eased slightly despite himself.
"So in later ages, emperors must learn not only warfare but account books?"
Zhu Biao answered, "If the ledger determines whether troops march, then yes."
Zhu Yuanzhang let out a long breath.
"To die poor," he repeated. "That is unacceptable."
---
Back in the Wei hall, Cao Cao had been listening with narrowed eyes.
"To perish for lack of funds," he mused. "That is a worse death than defeat."
Zhang Fei scratched his beard.
"If you have no coin, you can always borrow."
Cao Cao looked at him.
"From whom?"
Zhang Fei opened his mouth, then paused.
"From… someone with coin."
Cao Cao's lips curved faintly.
"And when that someone demands repayment?"
Zhang Fei frowned.
"Then you take it back by force."
"Which requires soldiers," Cao Cao replied.
"And soldiers require pay."
Zhang Fei fell silent.
Xun Yu allowed himself the smallest smile.
"In truth, wealth and force are intertwined. One cannot stand long without the other."
Cao Cao nodded.
"Then perhaps later generations are correct to weigh silver as heavily as steel."
Zhang Fei leaned back.
"If so, I prefer steel. Silver is heavy to carry."
Cao Cao gave a short laugh this time.
"In that case, you may carry the steel while others carry the silver."
---
In the Song hall, ministers murmured among themselves.
"If even Ming could collapse for want of revenue…"
"Public fields, salt reform, wine tax. Each touches powerful interests."
"To offend Mongolia is to face the sword. To offend the literati is to face the brush."
"And which cuts deeper?"
No one answered.
Zhao Kuangyin turned to Zhao Dezhao.
"Remember this. To govern is not merely to command armies. It is to ensure that the treasury does not empty faster than it fills."
Zhao Dezhao nodded slowly.
"And if filling it angers too many?"
Zhao Kuangyin's eyes hardened.
"Then one must choose carefully whom to anger."
He glanced briefly toward Zhao Guangyi.
The silence that followed was not comfortable.