Chapter 48: The Thieves’ Guild in Action

Do you truly consider yourself one of those ignorant, uncultured types? To dare lecture me about literature and philosophy—if I don’t teach this boy a lesson today, my anger will not be appeased. Changsun was laughing merrily at the side, her branches swaying like flowers; this boy was truly remarkable—it was the first time she had seen Li Shimin so out of sorts.

Only after Li Shimin had vented his anger did he press Cai Cong down onto a stool, watching him with malicious amusement as Cai Cong howled like a pig being slaughtered.

“All you know how to do is bully children—shame on you,” Cai Cong said disdainfully. Li Shimin, however, wore a look of utter satisfaction, as if to say: I’m bullying you, so what can you do about it?

“Back to business: the thieves’ guild successfully incited conflict between Xieli and Tuli at the beginning of the month. News came last night that the two tribes clashed, with casualties numbering in the hundreds on both sides. If not for the sudden blizzard, they might have slaughtered each other.”

“They risked their lives—I only hope Your Majesty won’t let them down. They are all heroes of the nation, do not chill their hearts!” Cai Cong still remembered to seek rewards for the thieves’ guild. He had promised them, and he must deliver.

“Is that even necessary for you to say? Xiao Cheng is already a fifth-rank military officer, in charge of the whole matter. The entire border army is assisting him. Would you call that neglect?” Li Shimin refused to even look at Cai Cong. This boy actually thought he was a man who couldn’t distinguish right from wrong.

“Haha, Your Majesty’s wisdom is unmatched. I, an old man, have finally made it—now I can smile even in death,” Cai Cong said cheerfully, clearly still holding the thieves’ guild in high regard.

“No need for flattery. What should we do next? Xiao Cheng is good at execution, but decision-making is hard for him,” Li Shimin said incisively—not out of disdain for the thieves’ guild, but because true decisiveness is rare.

“Heh… You’ve got some nerve asking me. If this were before the army, you’d get a beating for sure.” Cai Cong said unpleasantly. Was the old man scared, or was his memory deteriorating?

“I’ve already told him: Xieli and Tuli are fighting for dominance; conflict is inevitable. All he needs to do is fan the flames, give Tuli courage. Provide Tuli with weapons—lots of weapons—but not a single grain of food.

If Monaitler gives him grain, isn’t he just watching from the sidelines? Let him watch well and recuperate, provide him a small amount of weapons, so he can keep dreaming of being king of the steppe.

To be honest, Xieli’s character is lacking, but he’s a capable warrior. It won’t be long before Tuli and Monaitler feel confident enough to try to replace Xieli, and then the Turks will at best split, or at worst repeat the chaos at the end of the Sui dynasty. When the time comes, our Tang can deal with them as easily as crushing a dog.”

“I finally understand what it means to win a thousand miles away—your few simple words will cost the Turks untold lives.” Li Shimin looked at him like a monster. Don’t be fooled by the brevity of his words; they were sharper than any strategy he’d debated with Li Jing for four days.

Little did he know that Cai Cong had long foreseen the Turks’ fate; he merely hastened it.

“Your Majesty flatters me. I have said that when my spirit wandered the void, I witnessed the Turks’ invasion, and naturally saw their internal discord. When it comes to understanding the Turks, I doubt anyone in Tang knows them better than I do. I have pondered this for so long—if I couldn’t devise a strategy, wouldn’t my adventures in the void have been for nothing?”

Cai Cong always preferred to avoid standing out; being too prominent could cost him his life. Li Shimin was unafraid, but Cai Cong was twenty-two years his junior—his own son might not be able to suppress Cai Cong once he inherited the throne.

“Spirit wandering the void—it truly inspires envy. I wonder when I might have such fortune myself,” Li Shimin’s eyes were full of longing. Even as emperor, such encounters were beyond his grasp.

“Immortality cannot be sought—Your Majesty must not covet it. Beware, beware!” Cai Cong, his little face solemn, admonished, looking so adorable that Changsun couldn’t help but pinch his cheeks.

“His Lordship is right. Since ancient times, kings have chased immortality, but who has ever attained it?” Changsun added righteously.

“I know, you need not advise further. My goal is to defeat all the surrounding barbarians, not to seek gods or ask the Dao.” Li Shimin spoke calmly, but Cai Cong and Changsun could see he hadn’t given up the idea at all.

Since Li Shimin had spoken thus, the two said no more. After lunch, the three discussed history and current affairs, compared calligraphy—the time passed swiftly.

When the sun slanted westward, Zhang Wen arrived on the third floor with his cane. Upon seeing Cai Cong, he threw the cane aside and hopped over, unable to hide his joy. “Master, great news, great news! Guess how much was sold today?”

Cai Cong answered calmly, “If it’s less than twenty thousand taels, you and everyone on the second floor lose half a month’s wages.”

“Heh, Master, you won’t be docking pay today—the accountant just reported that today’s takings exceeded twenty-five thousand taels. After deducting miscellaneous expenses, about twenty thousand taels will be deposited. Truly a joyous occasion!” Zhao Wen was overjoyed. When the master’s business prospers, their own lives improve.

“I see, that matches my estimate. Go tell the guests downstairs that all ingredients have run out—ask them to return tomorrow,” Cai Cong said with a wave and a smile. With money in hand, there was no need to panic.

“Master, we prepared enough for three days…”

“Put people first. Have you looked around? Everyone is exhausted, barely holding on. Go tell them we’re done for today—back to work early tomorrow.”

Cai Cong glared at him. Money is only worthwhile if you live to spend it. Even the right guard instructors had to step in to help; the most exhausted were the waiters. Already in poor health, they spun like tops, shouting dish names until their throats burned, without time for a sip of water.

“Alright, I’ll obey, Master,” Zhao Wen wiped his eyes and limped downstairs. They were all tired, but simply wanted to repay their master by earning more for him.

“Brave fellows, all of them! After a busy day, some carried dishes single-handedly from dawn to dusk, their arms trembling, all for your sake. You’re good, and they’re good too. Treat them well—if you dare dock their wages, I’ll be the first to punish you.”

Li Shimin was traveling incognito, so Zhao Wen thought he was just one of Cai Cong’s elders and paid little attention. But Li Shimin had noticed: at lunch, the server’s left hand was trembling; when he came to change the tea just now, Li Shimin saw his hand was numb and he was persevering with sheer willpower.

“Heh, I was worried that giving them too much reward tonight might upset the master. Since you’ve spoken, I’ll reward them generously tonight,” Cai Cong said jokingly. Li Shimin shook his head. It was getting late, so he and Changsun returned to the palace.

The morning court was the most grueling. Rise at four, enter the palace at five. Cai Cong would not agree—it was far too early; at five, the sun was still shrouded in mist. Meng Baolai, clad in armor, led eighteen guards to escort his carriage.

Aside from the princes, only Cai Cong enjoyed such a grand entourage. Today, Cai Cong wore a purple-gold crown, cloud-walking boots, and a fitted robe embroidered with golden bamboo and jade, looking every bit a golden child.

The morning court was as loud as a marketplace. In such a vast empire, there were endless decisions to make each day. News arrived from Luoyang: in an abandoned Sui granary, a large cache of grain was discovered underground. The surrounding populace rushed in and took a third before the authorities arrived, arresting several dozen people.

The prefect of Luoyang submitted a memorial asking how to deal with these people and the stolen grain. The radicals called for harsh punishment—this was no longer an age of chaos, and such mob action should be severely dealt with.

The moderates argued that precisely because it was not an age of chaos, there was no need for severity. Punish the crime, but not the soul—use mercy to teach shame and bring change. To usher in a golden age, lighten corvée and emphasize benevolent governance.

Li Shimin decided: those caught would receive thirty strokes, the rest must return the stolen grain within a deadline and would not be prosecuted further. He then dispatched officials to inspect all Sui granaries, his sharp intuition telling him Luoyang’s case was not an isolated one.

Though he and his father had tried to blacken Emperor Yang of Sui’s name in the history books, they both knew the Sui dynasty’s wealth was unmatched by Tang, and some Sui granaries were pits dug underground—there could well be hidden stores.

When court was nearly over, it was close to eight in the morning. Cai Cong had been standing for an hour and a half, his feet heavy and aching, not daring to move. Soon he would be the center of attention and needed to maintain his dignity.

At that moment, Yan Dong stepped forward and announced in a booming voice, “Cai Cong, step forward to receive your appointment.”

Cai Cong straightened, stepped out of line, approached the imperial steps, and knelt.

(End of chapter)