Chapter 18: A Difficult Problem

In the late summer days, rain fell intermittently across Chang’an. After a long drought, the sweet rain was a source of immense joy.

Yet, where some rejoiced, others lamented.

In the Crown Prince’s palace—

When Liu Ju informed Liu Jin that the shortfall in Gongsun Jingsheng’s accounts still stood at three million coins, Liu Jin nearly went numb.

Over the years, the Crown Prince’s palace had received many rewards, most of which had been spent during his father’s youth. At that time, Emperor Wu of Han had high hopes for Liu Ju and showered him with gifts. He even allowed Liu Ju to build the Bowang Garden in the southern part of Chang’an city and to recruit retainers.

Liu Ju was generous with his retainers and advisors, spending money rapidly. But as father and son drifted apart, the Crown Prince’s palace received fewer and fewer extra rewards, relying mostly on the regular stipends set by the palace.

Even adding the last ten thousand gold coins bestowed by Emperor Wu, the Crown Prince’s palace could only muster about one million coins. How could the remaining two million be covered?

“Temporarily, don’t let Uncle Biao disburse any funds. Wait until the full amount is gathered, then pay it out all at once. We can claim it was a clerical oversight, which the officials will accept. His Majesty will at most punish him for negligence, a far cry from a more serious offense.”

Liu Ju agreed, though worry etched his face. “But how can we get the two million coins?”

Liu Jin reassured him, “Father, don’t be anxious. Tell Uncle Yi and Uncle Biao not to worry either. Carry on as usual, don’t expose any weaknesses. Do what must be done and handle the rest slowly.”

“Hmm.”

Honestly, if Gongsun He and Gongsun Jingsheng were not his relatives, and staunch supporters of the Crown Prince faction, Liu Jin would rather avoid this troublesome matter.

Gongsun Jingsheng was audacious indeed—he had embezzled nineteen million coins, including funds meant for soldiers’ horse upkeep. Such gall was outrageous; no wonder Emperor Wu wanted to execute him. His death would be well deserved.

But Liu Jin couldn’t reveal these thoughts and kept them to himself.

He had to clean up this mess so that Gongsun Jingsheng would not become a pretext for Emperor Wu’s purge of the Crown Prince’s faction. Whether the emperor would find other excuses later no longer mattered—first, he had to get through this hurdle.

After parting from Liu Ju, Liu Jin retreated to the pavilion in the rear courtyard to sit and ponder.

How could he quickly raise two million coins?

Salt, iron, and wine had already been monopolized by the court, so Liu Jin had no way to intervene there. He thought of several feasible plans in the short term.

First, produce various soybean products—silken tofu, firm tofu, stinky tofu and other prepared foods. Such items were sold in Huainan but hadn’t yet reached Chang’an. If he started making them now, he could earn money. But small-scale entrepreneurship suited ordinary citizens, not someone pressed for time like Liu Jin.

Second, buy silk and lacquerware in large quantities from Chang’an and Luoyang, then transport them via the Hexi Corridor to the Western Regions. But the time needed for a round trip was too long—the witchcraft scandal might be over by then.

Third, improve looms to increase the production of hemp and silk cloth. Having studied many ancient texts in later eras, particularly in history, Liu Jin understood weaving machinery.

But again, time was insufficient.

Liu Jin was at a loss. Unless he could exploit the lucrative salt, iron, and wine trades, it was impossible to quickly gain two million coins.

Heavy-hearted, he went to the Crown Prince’s library, which held many books collected by his father, who had wide-ranging interests. Browsing casually, he sought inspiration.

Suddenly, a treatise by the yin-yang scholar Zou Yan caught his eye.

“Twenty li west of Qin Chang’an lies a mountain of inkstone, with sparse vegetation, a remarkable sight…”

Coal Mountain?

An idea sparked. Liu Jin swiftly left the Chang Le Palace, mounted a horse, and rode directly to the spot twenty li west of Chang’an.

…

At the Weiyang Palace—

Embroidered Uniform Guard Bao Shengzhi paid homage to Emperor Wu, bowing. “Your Majesty, the Imperial Grandson has left the palace.”

Emperor Wu acknowledged briefly. “He went to the outskirts.”

He had thought Liu Jin was coming to see him again, but after waiting all afternoon in the city outskirts, Liu Jin never appeared—he felt a twinge of disappointment.

Liu Jin had arrived early at the mountain twenty li west of Chang’an and confirmed it was indeed the Coal Mountain.

Although salt, iron, and wine were under state control, supporting industries were still needed. For instance, iron smelting required large amounts of charcoal. In Nanyang, there was a family that specialized in providing charcoal to the government, contracted to supply fuel to three ironworks, earning a yearly profit of 120,000 coins.

Coal was certainly more valuable than charcoal and burned longer. Given the choice, the government would surely prefer coal as the primary raw material for smelting.

But this mountain already had an owner.

The ancients said that the seven daily necessities—firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea—were essential, with firewood listed first because most visible mountains belonged to nobles and great landowners. Without permission, entering someone else’s mountain to gather wood was forbidden. Even if the mountain patrol slaves beat you to death, the government would not intervene.

Some wild mountains could be harvested for wood, but they teemed with beasts and dangers. In ancient times, only the agile or the daring could work as woodcutters.

This particular mountain belonged to Dao Marquis Han Shuo. Han Shuo came from a respectable family and entered officialdom through family connections. Following General Wei Qing’s campaigns, he gained many merits and was granted the title of Marquis of Long’e. Later, he lost his rank due to insufficient quality of tribute gold.

The greed of these Han dynasty officials was boundless.

Fortunately, Han Shuo later distinguished himself fighting the Eastern Yue and was restored as Dao Marquis by Emperor Wu, who granted him a mountain. Han Shuo still complained because the mountain was barren, with no vegetation, and thus worthless.

“Marquis, someone outside wishes to inquire whether you would sell the mountain.”

Near the palace city’s northern busy district on Hengmen Street stood the Dao Marquis’s mansion.

Han Shuo, then Grand Master of the Palace, in charge of palace affairs, brightened at the news. “The mountain in the western suburbs?”

“Yes.”

A smile crossed Han Shuo’s face. He never expected anyone so foolish—or perceptive.

He promptly said, “Leave it to you. I am not inclined to meet lowly merchants. You are in full charge. Be sure to ask for more money, but keep it reasonable, or they may refuse.”

The steward bowed, “I understand.”

Liu Jin never met Dao Marquis Han Shuo, who was also one of the instigators of the witchcraft scandal. But it mattered little. In the end, Liu Jin arranged the deed and purchased the western suburban mountain at thirty-nine thousand coins below market price.

With many other matters awaiting him, Liu Jin did not linger. He merely said he would return with the funds and quickly finalized the transfer.

Hearing this, Han Shuo smiled faintly and said, “He is even more eager than I am. Does he think this mountain is a gold mine? Ha ha ha! Delightful! Tonight I shall drink alone and be merry! Bring the wine—I intend to drink my fill!”