Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Curved Plow Emerges, The Elder Statesman’s Heart Is Moved

"Your Highness, you mustn’t." Only then did the ceremonial officer react, throwing himself before Li Wei and pleading, "Your Highness, behind you are the princes and the ministers. How are they to proceed now?"

According to protocol, the Son of Heaven plows three times, the Three Dukes and the princes five times, and the ministers nine times.

But this intervention came too late. Li Wei, lost in the moment, had pushed the plow hundreds of times, not even keeping count. Even if it was three hundred or five hundred times, must the Three Dukes and princes now plow eight or nine hundred rounds, and the ministers over a thousand? At this rate, the ceremony would never end.

Only then did Li Wei regain his senses.

He had seen the hope in everyone’s eyes, the helplessness of the disaster-stricken people, and, in a fit of passion, lost control—thus disrupting the ritual. His father, Li Zhi, had once spoken those words, but they had been mere rhetoric; he never truly tilled a thousand acres.

"I was wrong," Li Wei admitted, for in both his lives, he had always owned up to his mistakes.

But this was more than a mistake. The ceremony was already hastily arranged and now even more irregular. The ritual officers were at their wits’ end—what was to be done next?

Li Wei sat on a ridge, gasping for breath. This long, straight-beamed plow was far too laborious; how superior was the curved-beam plow of later generations! That innovation, which appeared in the late Tang, was so well designed that it remained virtually unchanged through the ages.

Suddenly his eyes lit up. The curved-beam plow!

Though he hadn’t done much of substance for the disaster victims—in fact, these two rituals had further strained the treasury—this plow could benefit countless farmers. Perhaps it could be considered a form of redemption.

He called out, "Bring me brush and paper!"

Dai Zhide walked over and asked, "Your Highness, what do you intend to do with brush and paper?"

His brows furrowed. The prince’s intentions were good, even admirable, which pleased him, but just now he’d been too impulsive.

"The plow," Li Wei replied.

"What plow?"

"The plow, the farming tool." The character for "plow" had just come into use, but few were familiar with it.

"Your Highness, it is now the turn of the Three Dukes and the princes..."

"No, I mean a new kind of plow—one that requires far less effort than this one."

Dai Zhide was dubious. If the prince expounded on the classics, especially any of the three ritual canons, Dai Zhide would believe him. Should he compose a fine poem, that too would be credible. Li Wei was, after all, talented and well-educated from youth, and exceedingly diligent. But farm tools? The prince had never so much as touched one.

Nevertheless, he ordered brush and paper to be brought.

The curved-beam plow was not a complicated device. It consisted of eleven main components—plowshare, moldboard, sole, pressing blade, yoke, beam, shaft, handle, brace, support, and plate. Crude versions and rudimentary curved-beam plows had already appeared.

But Dai Zhide himself knew little about such things. Sensing there might be merit, he summoned officials from the Ministry of Works, the Imperial Granaries, and the Directorate of Construction. Among them was a true expert, who, upon seeing the diagram, could not help but exclaim with praise. Still, no one could be certain of its effectiveness. An impatient supervisor suggested, "Why not have it made and see for ourselves?"

The ritual officers, already troubled by the day's disruption, were still deliberating. Since there was nothing else to be done, perhaps this new plow would turn ill fortune to good.

"That is exactly what I wish," Li Wei agreed.

It was the season for spring tilling, and present were all the most influential men of the Tang court. If they saw its effectiveness with their own eyes, its spread would be swift. At last, he would have accomplished something tangible.

Dai Zhide reflected that this likely did not violate the ritual taboos, so he ordered it made at once. The work was quickly done, for nearby was the imperial estate, with carpenters on hand. The plowshare was adapted from the long, straight-beamed plow, requiring only minor modifications. Still, several ministers, never having handled such tools, did not grasp the significance of this new plow.

The plow was soon finished and brought forth.

"Let me do it," said Li Wei again.

"Your Highness, you wish to push it yourself?" Dai Zhide asked, finding the words odd.

Li Wei wiped the sweat from his brow. "Since I’ve already erred and ruined the ritual, let Heaven punish me if it is displeased. As long as the people can live better lives, what harm is there?"

A lofty statement, though the ritual itself was just a matter of pushing five or nine times—hardly a test of anything.

Yet, having spoken so righteously, he ordered an attendant to harness the plow and began to till once more. The ministers of the Ministry of Rites frowned, but before long, many among them were visibly impressed. Compared with the old straight-beamed plow, the new one—with its pivoting beam—allowed much more flexible handling over varied terrain. Its frame was smaller and lighter, saving both human and animal labor, and turning was far easier.

It was no miraculous invention, but to bring something from nothing—like the abacus—was no small feat.

Some quick-witted officials immediately saw another advantage: with this simpler curved-beam plow, regions like Jiangnan, with their hilly terrain, could finally be cultivated. The climate was suitable, but the terrain had always been prohibitive. Now, this innovation could resolve the impasse. Not only Jiangnan, but Guanzhong and other mountainous regions as well.

That such a plow should come from the prince was remarkable indeed.

Li Wei demonstrated two furrows, then stopped. Dai Zhide could not help but approach and ask, "Your Highness, how did you think of this?"

"When I was tilling just now, I found it terribly inconvenient, and this design appeared in my mind," Li Wei replied. If he could build airplanes, he'd claim those too, and none would dare argue.

"Your Highness, your hand..."

"Minister Dai, I carelessly injured it yesterday," Li Wei explained, glancing down. His grip on the plow had reopened the wound, and blood seeped through the silk bandage.

"It is Heaven’s will—a sincere heart moves the divine," Dai Zhide sighed upward. He thus transformed Li Wei’s "plagiarism" into a celestial sign. Even the earlier ritual misstep was, in his telling, a blessing in disguise.

The others exchanged glances but dared not contradict him. Was this not Heaven rewarding the prince’s sincerity, inspiring him with the new plow?

As to whether Li Wei had thereby drawn closer to danger, few considered it. Even Li Wei himself, elated, overlooked the possibility.

At that time, from emperor to commoner, few doubted the supernatural.

And as it happened during the imperial field ceremony, Li Wei’s actions quickly spread, the cheers swelling with each retelling; to many, it was a miracle.

"Wei, let us go," said Di Renjie, once the final arrangements were made. With enthusiasm for the new plow, the prince’s breach of protocol was forgiven, and the ceremony continued as planned: Three Dukes and princes plowed five times, ministers nine. Once the ministers took the field, there was little more to see. Di Renjie nudged Wei Yuanzhong as they slipped away from the throng.

As the two left the crowd, Di Renjie asked, "What do you make of the prince?"

"Yesterday’s events at the Institute of Letters show he is very clever," Wei Yuanzhong replied, choosing his words carefully. The matter had not spread widely, but among their circle, word had gotten out. Naturally, Wei Yuanzhong had already chided Di Renjie for not telling him it was Helan Minzhi who orchestrated the trouble.

Di Renjie laughed. "Even if I had told you, what would you have done? With your temper, you’d have only stirred up more trouble."

Yet Li Wei had handled the incident beautifully. Helan Minzhi’s attempt to shame him had backfired, and Li Wei had used the opportunity to expose Helan Minzhi instead.

"He is clever indeed, to think up a new plow."

"It is Heaven’s will."

"Heaven’s ways are distant and unfathomable. Do you, too, believe this was fate? Absurd. I do not know the details, but I think the prince has been racking his brains these past days, searching for a solution to the drought. He must have thought of the plow, and today, with the ceremonial tilling, inspiration struck. Of course, this owes much to his intelligence—otherwise, he could not have penned lines as magnificent as ‘One must ascend the summit to behold all lesser peaks at a glance.’"

"Indeed, such vision commands respect. It’s a pity the prince should have written so openly."

"And that brings me to my point. The prince is clever, benevolent, courteous, and upright—but he is too young, and perhaps not adept at the arts of intrigue. He realizes, as he nears his coming-of-age, that his growth may trouble His Majesty. Thus, he goes out of his way to extol the emperor and empress. In truth, this approach is somewhat affected, falling short of the highest standard."

"If you hadn’t brought it up, I wouldn’t have noticed. Now that you mention it, I recall several occasions—at the East Market gate, with the Cui family of Qinghe and Censor Li, he deliberately spoke in defense of Their Majesties. Even yesterday at the Institute, he made a point of saying his closest kin were the emperor and empress. I was pleased for him at first, but something felt off. Now I see why."

"Still, having done so need not be a bad thing. It depends on how he makes amends. Done well, it could build momentum, like waves gathering atop one another, raising him ever higher. His Majesty and the empress might even be delighted. But handled poorly, the outlook is grim. In the end, he lacks someone truly skilled in strategy by his side."

"Are you tempted, Di?"

Di Renjie wished to help the humane prince, and even considered drawing Wei Yuanzhong in; yet Wei Yuanzhong was himself torn. If Di Renjie could be brought in, that would be ideal.

"Tempted? How could I not be? It’s for the good of the realm. Miracles are not to be trusted. But earlier, when the prince, moved by sorrow and compassion, forgot even the rites as he gripped the plow, that was genuine benevolence. It is rare indeed. I was truly moved."

Both men were over thirty or forty, but neither had yet become a grandee of the court nor a trusted minister through several reigns. They still struggled among the sprawling ranks of lower officials, longing for the chance to rise and achieve something great. Yet their integrity and refusal to flatter had kept them from advancement. Now, with Li Zhi’s health failing, though still in his prime, he could not last many more years. A transfer of power was inevitable. If they could help this humane prince ascend peacefully, what might the result be? Even Di Renjie was stirred by the thought.

Di Renjie continued, "But you and I hold office. If we draw too near to the prince, it may rouse the imperial family’s suspicion. However, there is one person who could serve as his tutor and adviser."

"Who?"

"That Yao Chong you recommended."

"Why him?"

"Do not underestimate him, Wei. He will have a brilliant future. Most importantly, he understands adaptation. If one cannot protect oneself, how can one serve another? Even Duke Zheng, a paragon under Emperor Taizong, might not have been so forthright under another sovereign. But Yao Chong is still young."

"Indeed." They had spoken with Yao Chong several times; whether he would rise as Di Renjie predicted was uncertain, but his conversation had won Wei Yuanzhong’s admiration.

"Thus, you should offer him guidance, to make up for his shortcomings—and, thereby, the prince’s as well."

"Here we go again," Wei Yuanzhong grumbled. "And you?"

Di Renjie paced a few steps. "I’ll accompany you. Besides, the prince is in real danger this time."

"What do you mean?"

"His influence has grown too great."

Wei Yuanzhong was startled. Not only had the crowds cheered him all along the way, but the effect of this ritual alone surpassed the sum of all Li Zhi’s previous ceremonies.

Di Renjie added, "In the capital, I have little standing. Wei, see if you can arrange for me to meet the prince privately."

But even for Wei Yuanzhong, meeting Li Wei was no easy matter. Once the ritual was over and the handover complete, Di Renjie would have little time to linger in the capital.

P.S. At last, Comrade Di has set aside his reserve. What do you think of this new ally? Yet in future, with Wu needing Di, the prince needing Di, how will Di Renjie manage, caught between them? Something to look forward to. Once again, I ask for your votes. The push-to-vote numbers—seeing them brings tears to my eyes.