Chapter 86: Intentional Yet Unintentional

After bidding farewell to Bi Gou, Zhang Qian immediately devoted all his attention to improving the windmill. He needed to produce an entirely new design—a low-cost windmill-well combination—before Bi Gou left, rather than the current “money-burning” machines, each costing at least three hundred strings of cash.

The current machines, using bronze for the core and wrought iron for the frame, were suitable for Zhang Qian, Zhang Ruoxu, and Sun Anzu to “try out” on their own estates, but not for Bi Gou to promote in the remote regions where he was exiled. While these machines were precise and sturdy, they simply weren’t affordable for ordinary families. According to Zhang Qian’s own understanding of the Tang Dynasty, even well-off commoners struggled to produce twenty strings of cash at once. No one would spend their family’s accumulated savings to resolve flooding for the entire village.

Therefore, if the windmill and well were to be promoted, precision, durability, and even performance could be compromised, but the overall cost must be low! Ideally, so low that even a modest Tang landowner could grit his teeth and afford it—only then could it be widely adopted, and only then could Bi Gou leave Chang’an without regrets.

“Senior brother, isn’t this too difficult? You want it to work well and cost little—where in the world is there such a good thing?” Guo Nu, unable to understand Zhang Qian’s idea, grinned and poured cold water on his hopes.

“Senior brother, instead of spending time on this, why not think about expanding the Six Gods Trading Company’s shares? Not only is Wang Yuanbao asking, but the stewards of the Marquis of Bao, Marquis of Kui, and Marquis of Qiao are all inquiring,” Ren Cong suggested, hoping to change direction. “Once the second round of expansion is over, giving Elder Bi ten sets of waterwheels and wells is a trivial matter!”

“You two mustn’t forget, our Qin Mo branch is part of the Mohist school. Our founder made all manner of devices to benefit the people!” Zhang Qian always valued his junior brothers’ opinions, but this time, he stubbornly held his ground. “If a device is made but cannot be used by ordinary people, wouldn’t we be letting down our founder?”

“As for the second round of share expansion, dealing with people isn’t my strong suit. You two handle it. Just ensure that together, we hold at least fifty-one percent. The rest you may manage as you see fit. As I’ve said before, the Six Gods Trading Company is our foundation. The more allies we draw in now, the steadier our path will be.”

“Yes, senior brother!” Guo Nu and Ren Cong, lacking the courage to refuse, braced themselves and accepted.

Noticing their uncertainty, Zhang Qian smiled to encourage them quietly, “No hurry—the company’s growth can be slowed a bit. Stability comes first. Though we three are still ‘green parrots,’ ordinary minor officials already don’t dare to visit, and others don’t know the true cost of our perfume. There’s no need to risk disrupting alcohol production for a mere few dozen strings of profit.” (“Green parrot” was Tang officials’ self-mocking term for eighth and ninth rank.)

This was the honest truth, and the main reason he dared to “waste” most of his energy on improving the windmill-well set. Though he was only an eighth-rank registrar, county magistrates and captains no longer had the nerve to pressure him to accept shares by mere words.

Meanwhile, the emperor had named alcohol “gunpowder” and ordered the opening of a Gunpowder Office in the arsenal—moves that showed the imperial family’s regard for “gunpowder.” Without knowing the real cost of the perfume, the Tang elite would never risk irritating the emperor over mere dozens of strings in monthly profit. True, the Tang emperor’s presence was weak—far less so than his wife, daughter, or brother-in-law!

So, during this rare period of tranquility, Zhang Qian wanted to do what he loved. Whether out of respect for Bi Gou or goodwill toward the people, it was worth his utmost effort.

He was just a “green parrot” of the eighth rank, unqualified for court debates or political intrigue. Yet, he could ensure that Bi Gou left Chang’an with hope for the future. He could, by his own means, help the Tang people suffer less from floods and eat more millet and sorghum.

In a sense, this was his way of repaying the Tang. After all, this world had welcomed Zhang Qian and given him a life more comfortable than before, even if he sometimes felt lonely.

“Senior brother, then Second Brother and I will handle the share expansion. You can trust us with alcohol production. With us on it, nothing will go wrong! But you mustn’t overwork yourself. You’re an eighth-rank registrar now—some tasks can be handed to the craftsmen.”

“Senior brother, Second Brother is right. If you don’t mind passing on our school’s knowledge, why not ask the arsenal craftsmen for help to make the windmill and well cheaper? Also, the artisans at the Works Bureau have little to do—every day, they drool over our chrysanthemum liquor!”

Seeing that the share expansion was destined to fall to them, Guo Nu and Ren Cong, resigned to their fate, couldn’t help but offer suggestions for Zhang Qian.

Their words were casual, but Zhang Qian’s eyes instantly gleamed with sharp inspiration.

“Hand it to the arsenal craftsmen? And bring in the Works Bureau? Of course—why haven’t I thought of this? How foolish of me, not to use such excellent resources!” He slapped his forehead and rushed to his desk, unfurling a sheet of mulberry paper and snatching up a charcoal pencil, his right hand flying.

A single phrase can awaken the dreamer.

Lowering the cost of windmill and well manufacture was a monumental challenge for Zhang Qian, almost equal to inventing a new set of machines from scratch. But if he treated it as a research project, breaking it into sub-projects and enlisting the arsenal craftsmen, the difficulty would drop dramatically!

The Tang arsenal and its neighbor, the Works Bureau, gathered the world’s finest craftsmen. Since ancient times, these skilled artisans had a tradition of taking private commissions. As long as they finished their official tasks on time, the fourth-rank heads seldom bothered them.

With such a group of “national treasure” craftsmen available, it would be pure folly to lock himself away and puzzle alone. Compared to later eras, these Tang craftsmen cared astonishingly little for wages. A bottle of Six Gods perfume and two jars of chrysanthemum liquor would have them working tirelessly!

Thus, after breaking down the “project” in his study the first day, Zhang Qian took a stack of blueprints to the Gunpowder Office in the arsenal on the second day.

By midday, every well-known craftsman in the arsenal, and every approachable artisan in the Works Bureau next door, became Zhang Qian’s targets for consultation.

With the combined efforts of the Tang arsenal and Works Bureau, the Zhang windmill and well progressed at visible speed.

And the cost dropped again and again. Soon the total expense fell to about sixty strings, less than a fifth of the original. If Zhang Qian hadn’t insisted on using metal for the whole transmission system, the cost could have halved again—down to thirty strings.

“Thank you, Yongzhao!” When Zhang Qian personally delivered the final set of blueprints and a scaled model of the windmill-well to the Bi residence by cart, Bi Gou—now demoted to Sima of Liuzhou—opened the main gate himself, welcoming his guest with honor.

Recently, after offending Empress Wei and all the “slanted officials,” everyone but a few old friends like He Zhizhang and Zhang Shuo avoided him like the plague, fearing that any delay would mark them as his allies and bring disaster.

Yet Zhang Qian, who had only heard a few encouraging words from him, always treated him as an elder, never forgetting his promise to deliver the model and latest plans before Bi Gou left Chang’an. How could this not move him?

But now he, too, was a “green parrot,” unable to offer anything in return for Zhang Qian’s kindness. So opening the main gate to welcome his guest was the best way to express gratitude.

This act signified that Bi Gou regarded Zhang Qian as a confidant, equal to He Zhizhang. It also represented the attitude of the statesmen faction in the Tang scholar-official class toward the re-emergence of Qin Mo.

Of course, the goodwill and deep meaning expressed in action would not be spoken aloud. In Tang, it was often those things left unsaid that drew the most attention.

“My young friend, perhaps I have been too hasty, and owe you an apology!” Seeing Zhang Qian’s earnest face and eyes, Bi Gou silently apologized in his heart. “But my time is truly short. And you, as the Mohist’s vanguard re-entering the world, shouldn’t shrink from a little pressure!”