Chapter Thirty-Two: The Organization a Thousand Years Ahead—Charity

The next morning, Li Yi was roused from his deep sleep by Bingyu. The night before, he had struggled on until the latter half of the night to finish his work, then had slept straight through until now in his chamber—if not for Bingyu, he might have slept even longer.

“Mm! Bingyu, what time is it?” Li Yi asked, his eyes still bleary with sleep, hair in disarray, clothes untidy, and yawning incessantly.

“It’s almost noon,” Bingyu replied softly, her demeanor as gentle as ever, never one for many words.

“Almost noon already? Damn, I can’t believe I slept this late! Bingyu, can you get me some breakfast? Once I’ve eaten, I’ll head into the palace.”

Bingyu nodded and quietly left the room.

Li Yi stretched, flexing his arms and legs. His waist and knees ached, his limbs felt weak—he hadn’t practiced martial arts in days and was distinctly unaccustomed to it. It seemed he would have to get his schedule back on track soon.

After washing up, changing into a clean, white long robe, and tidying his hair, Li Yi made his way to the dining hall. There, Bingyu had already laid out the food. Li Yi grabbed a steamed bun and started eating.

“Bingyu, has Chang Dong returned?”

“Yes, he’s back. He’s currently training the men he brought with him at the drill ground.”

“Oh? Go fetch him for me, will you?”

Bingyu agreed softly and left. Li Yi muttered to himself, “This girl, she really won’t say a word more than necessary.” With that, he ate his meal in quick bites. A quarter of an hour later, having finished, he saw Bingyu and Chang Dong enter together.

“So you’re back, Brother Dong? Take a seat!” Li Yi teased, grinning.

“Ah? Young Master Yi, I’m not worthy of such a title—please, don’t call me that!”

“What’s there to be unworthy of? I consider you all friends, so what’s wrong with calling you Brother Dong? We’ll be spending a lot of time together from now on, and it feels more familiar anyway. Besides, don’t you think ‘Brother Dong’ sounds quite formidable?”

Chang Dong scratched his head. He had never seen a young master like this before, but he rather liked it. “Heh, Young Master Yi, it really does sound impressive!”

“Of course! Let me tell you—the title carries a legend. It’s the story of a man named Xie Wen Dong, who rose from nothing to become a dark overlord. So, I expect you to make something of yourself and become a new legend.”

“Young Master Yi, I’ll do my best!” Chang Dong replied earnestly.

“No, you should say, ‘You will see the day!’”

Chang Dong thought for a moment, then straightened his back, lifted his gaze, and let out a surge of boldness. “Young Master Yi, believe me, you will see that day!”

Li Yi was startled—he really did have some of that Brother Dong aura! If only he were a bit smarter, though. “Damn, you really are a genius. I’ll be waiting. In the days ahead, you’ll understand what it means to be a warrior who’s walked through hell. If you make it through, I’ll sincerely call you ‘Brother Dong.’ Now, tell me, how did things go?”

Chang Dong’s bravado faded in an instant, replaced by his usual honest look. “Oh, I brought back seven men in total. Each is over eight feet tall, strong, and all around twenty years old. They’re even literate.”

“Seven is not a small number. Well done! I’ll go see them myself after I return from the palace. What about the rest?”

“The carpenter and blacksmith have already been sent over by Master. Since there’s an abandoned workshop not far from our courtyard, Master had it cleaned up. The necessary tools are being prepared and should be ready by nightfall.”

“Very good. That’s all for now. You go back and let those seven men rest. Remind them not to wander about. Then get ready to accompany me to the palace.”

“Yes, sir!”

A quarter of an hour later, Li Yi, carrying his proposal, rode his steed Juechen, and with Chang Dong, hurried to the palace gates.

“Chang Dong, go to Prince Runcheng’s residence. Find his daughter, Li Xueyan, and ask her about Jiang Lichen’s whereabouts. Then bring Jiang Lichen to the courtyard and wait for me there.”

“Huh? Then why did you bring me here?”

“Damn! Don’t you know I don’t know the way?” Li Yi feigned annoyance. Still, it seemed his training was paying off—at the very least, Chang Dong dared to talk back now.

“So, can you find your way now?” Chang Dong’s mouth twitched; he couldn’t fathom how someone so clever could get lost.

“What do you think? If I couldn’t, would I let you go?” Li Yi replied, not hiding his exasperation.

“Oh, then I’ll be off!” Chang Dong mumbled something as he left, but Li Yi didn’t catch it. He was about to ask when he saw Chang Dong already mount his horse and ride away.

“Damn! Just showing off because my horsemanship is poor, huh? Wait till I’ve mastered it—I’ll show off too. Some people, honestly!”

Li Yi muttered to himself, then turned to enter the palace.

“Halt! Who goes there?” The guards at the gate stopped him when he tried to enter without announcing himself.

Li Yi produced the waist token given to him by Li Er—immediately effective. The guards saluted and let him pass.

He handed Juechen over to the guards for safekeeping and, led by an attendant, entered Wanchun Hall.

Li Er was resting with his eyes closed on a couch, his face haggard. Clearly, the matter of the rebels weighed heavily on him. Indeed, if such a grave problem had to be solved by a mere fifteen-year-old, Li Er would hardly be remembered as one of the greatest emperors.

Li Er was awaiting Li Yi. In truth, he hoped Li Yi’s proposal for the state bank might succeed. When he heard the attendant announce Li Yi’s arrival, he immediately sat up, fully alert.

“Admit him!” Li Er commanded in a deep voice as he straightened up.

Shortly after, Li Yi entered the hall. Without much small talk, Li Er had Li Yi sit opposite him, ordered tea, and summoned a scribe named Sima to take notes—this was the formal setting for state affairs, making Li Yi a little nervous.

“You’ve finished the proposal?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, please take a look.” Li Yi handed over the document.

Li Er opened it, his eyes falling upon Li Yi’s elegant regular script. “Didn’t I tell you to call me Uncle? It’s odd to hear a child your age addressing me as ‘Your Majesty’. Good handwriting! Very good!” He praised, then began to read closely.

The first line of the proposal read in bold: “A Basic Outline and Five-Year Development Plan for the Establishment of the Imperial Bank of Great Tang.”

“Hm! The title is novel—direct, concise, well done!” Li Er continued reading and soon noticed some unfamiliar marks throughout the text.

“Nephew, what are these marks?”

“Oh, those are punctuation marks, used to break up sentences. In classical texts, there are many… Uh, Your Majesty, perhaps today isn’t the time for this discussion. Though punctuation is important, there’s plenty of time for that later!”

“For breaking sentences?” A sharp light flickered in Li Er’s eyes as he grasped their usefulness at once.

“Yes, Uncle. Punctuation is extremely useful. When you have time, I’ll explain it in detail and present it to you.”

“Very well!” Li Er nodded, then continued reading, giving the proposal close attention.

Two quarters of an hour later, Li Er lifted his head, rubbed his eyes, thought for a while, and finally turned to Li Yi. “Nephew, your proposal is indeed thorough, but there are some issues we need to discuss.”

Li Yi straightened his expression. “Please, Uncle, ask away.”

“You mention in your proposal that the bank should be separate from the government and established solely under the Imperial name. What is your reasoning?”

Li Yi smiled slightly, sipped his tea, then answered, “Uncle, that’s simple to explain. A bank is, in essence, a business. If it isn’t separated from the government, it will inevitably be placed under the Ministry of Revenue. If that happens, all those running the bank will be officials—resulting in the merging of government and business, essentially collusion between officials and merchants. Such a vast sum of silver would become a fat piece of meat, eagerly fought over by various factions. Not only would the bank lose its purpose, but if anything were to go wrong, it would become a chronic, tangled problem—one that could never be cut clean. Therefore, from the outset, an unchanging rule must be established: the bank must never interfere in politics. In this way, the bank remains independent. If the government needs funds, it can borrow from the bank interest-free or at low interest, but borrowing must always be repaid. This ensures the bank’s purity and integrity. And let me add, Uncle—would you truly trust anyone else with so much money?”

A glint of understanding flashed in Li Er’s eyes, and he chuckled. “You sly fox, always a few steps ahead of everyone else! You’re right—the bank must be under Imperial control. Good, very good! You’re young, but you’ve thought things through most thoroughly. Well done!”

Li Yi chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Uncle, praise is nice and all, but how about something more concrete?”

Li Er was momentarily taken aback, then burst out laughing. “You rascal, praise goes straight to your head! Enough nonsense—let’s continue. You mention ‘charity’ in your proposal. What do you mean by that?”

“Oh! Charity is a social endeavor for the benefit of society and its people—a necessary supplement to the government’s system of social welfare. Under the government’s guidance and support, it is organized voluntarily by private groups and individuals to aid those in society who suffer misfortune or disaster, offering help selflessly and without expectation of return. In short, it’s doing good deeds with no thought of reward. Uncle, even though the bank will not compete with the people for profit, it will still make money. If someone were to seize on this to attack the Imperial reputation, it could have adverse effects. Thus, you can set aside a portion of profits—offered to the government free of charge, as private Imperial support. You could also allocate funds specifically for charitable works: building bridges, repairing roads, constructing public facilities, supporting orphans and the elderly, and so on. Such acts will benefit both the Imperial family and the entire Tang Dynasty without any harm.”

“Charity? Charity!” Li Er stood up, pacing and muttering to himself as he pondered. Suddenly, he slapped the table, startling Li Yi. “Excellent! Charity is a fine thing! Even if not now, it must be done in the future. Nephew, you must ensure this is carried out!”

Li Er was visibly excited—charity was an unprecedented concept in the Tang Dynasty, and if done well, it would be a major achievement, worthy of a bold mark in the annals of history. His own ascent to the throne had been less than legitimate; in the second year of Zhenguan, he had even eaten locusts in public to win the people’s trust. Thus, political achievements were everything to him—he needed to legitimize his rule.

“Uncle, this isn’t something that can be accomplished overnight. Charity may seem simple, but in practice, it’s fraught with challenges and cannot be completed in a day. Still, I am confident I can do it well.”

Li Er fixed Li Yi with a steady gaze and said gravely, “Nephew, this is not something to be taken lightly. You must see it through diligently. Done well, the rewards are many; done poorly… hmph!”

“Rest assured, Uncle. I will do my utmost to accomplish this and give you a satisfactory answer.”