Chapter Thirty-One: Golden City

Li Wenyuan led Zhang Juntao and their team away from the Eastern Capital, taking the route through Tianshui Commandery and Longxi Commandery to return to Jincheng. Although Li Wenyuan now served as the Governor-General of the Western Regions, the troops ultimately belonged to Xue Ju, and had to be returned.

Without an imperial edict or urgent military matters, Li Wenyuan was content to leisurely make his way back to Jincheng.

After crossing Hedong Commandery, they entered the alluvial plain of the Wei River basin. The vast eight-hundred-li Qin Plain should have been the most secure granary of the Great Sui, but now it was desolate, the farmlands abandoned and the villages empty. There was no sign of the lush fields that once stretched for miles; only patches of wild grass and a handful of dilapidated houses remained.

After a long silence, Li Wenyuan asked Zhang Juntao, “Juntao, tell me: during the Kaihuang era, our Great Sui had over eight million households. How many do you think remain today?”

Zhang Juntao replied, “In the fifth year of the Daye era, there were still over nine million households. But now, the population of Shandong has dwindled, and the people of Guanzhong have sharply decreased due to the eastern campaigns. I suppose there are about seven million households left.”

“Two million households lost? Even at the minimum count of five per household, that’s over ten million people,” Li Wenyuan exclaimed in shock.

“Not exactly,” Zhang Juntao reassured him. “The forced conscription and requisition of livestock during the eastern campaigns drove many independent farmers into dependence on powerful clans, or turned them into official households, craftsmen, musicians, tenant farmers, and other groups not included in the census. So, it’s unlikely that ten million people have simply vanished.”

“Then, Juntao, do you consider the Great Sui to be strong?” Li Wenyuan asked.

“Of course it’s strong,” Zhang Juntao answered proudly. “During the Kaihuang era, Emperor Wen struck north against the Turks, splitting their power and forcing them to bow in submission.”

“Then why has such a mighty Sui been repelled twice by a small state like Goguryeo?” Li Wenyuan pressed.

“The Goguryeo people are cunning, and the Emperor insists on handling everything himself, which leads to missed opportunities,” Zhang Juntao replied.

“Not so, not so. Juntao, you’ve only got it half right.” Li Wenyuan smiled. “His Majesty was only twenty when he led the army across the treacherous Yangtze and conquered Southern Chen. How could he make such a basic mistake and let opportunity slip by?”

Seeing Zhang Juntao hang his head in silence, Li Wenyuan continued, “In the previous dynasty, Emperor Guangwu of Han allowed border people to migrate inward, and later, the Wei and Jin dynasties failed to manage this properly, leading to the chaos of the Five Barbarians, the migration of Han people southward, and eventual defeat—thus paving the way for the Great Sui to seize the empire.”

“I’ve heard of this. The chaos of the Five Barbarians saw the northern Han population nearly wiped out, and only thanks to Emperor Ran Min’s uprising and his decree to slaughter the barbarians was there any vigor left,” Zhang Juntao recalled.

“Yes, but after Ran Min’s demise, the northern barbarians returned and occupied the lands north of the Yangtze for many years, eventually leading to the Great Sui. In my view, His Majesty fears that the internal migration of barbarians might spark chaos again and destroy the Sui, so he intends to use Goguryeo’s blade to eliminate the northern barbarians and the powerful aristocrats behind them,” Li Wenyuan explained, recounting the conclusions he once discussed with Xue Ju.

Seeing the dawning understanding in Zhang Juntao’s eyes, Li Wenyuan went on, “His Majesty has placed the entire Great Sui on the table for a grand gamble.” At this, he sighed inwardly:

Yang Guang’s intentions were not wrong, but he was too impatient. If he had taken five or ten years to proceed step by step, perhaps things would have been different. But he pushed too hard, and the Sui proved more fragile than he imagined; a single misstep has already led to a catastrophe beyond repair.

Whenever a great nation rises, it must plan in terms of decades or even centuries. Those who merely hope for wise rulers and sages are doomed to a short-lived fate. National fortune depends on meticulous planning, sound talent cultivation, and efficient, honest administration. Betting a nation’s fate is the most foolish act—Li Wenyuan remembered that the last nation to do so was now serving others as a mere lapdog, the perfect lesson.

Zhang Juntao fell silent, struck by the revelations Li Wenyuan had shared. Every age bears its own unique limitations, and nothing can be done about it. Li Wenyuan himself despised the arrogance of criticizing the ancients from the vantage point of hindsight; it was the most foolish behavior.

As the army moved slowly forward, Li Wenyuan’s mind drifted to the Western Regions, mysterious even in later generations.

The Western Regions were relatively isolated, yet full of untapped potential. As the most crucial node on the Silk Road, it could draw endless wealth to sustain an army. With proper allocation and planning of the farmland, the abundant water systems could yield vast quantities of grain. The Han settlers and assimilated barbarians there had long lived on the frontier, their customs fierce and robust—perfect for raising troops.

Now, with imperial approval to forge his own weapons and the authority to govern the eight provinces of the Western Regions at his discretion, Li Wenyuan felt overwhelmed by the countless tangled threads in his mind. After all, before his journey through time, he had been nothing more than an ordinary graduate student. Now, he had transformed into the Great Sui’s General of the West, Governor-General of the eight provinces, able to decide the fate of tens of thousands with a single word. Such a dramatic change left Li Wenyuan at a loss.

All the way, Li Wenyuan spoke no more, pondering his next steps. Since some of the governors in the Western Regions dared not report to the court, the situation was already dire. For thousands of years, the most pressing issue facing feudal emperors was the struggle for power between the central government and the provinces. The center needed stability and taxes from the provinces, but dreaded the taboo of local military power.

The Tang dynasty, by virtue of its powerful state, suppressed the threat posed by regional military governors holding their own armies. Yet when that power waned, those governors rebelled, turning prosperity to decline and eventually destruction.

Li Wenyuan was not as shrewd as those old foxes who had long navigated the bureaucracy. Along the journey, he considered various ways to straighten out the Western Regions’ administration, but none seemed practical. Moreover, the Sui dynasty’s downfall was already counting down. If he did not seize the opportunity to rely on the Western Regions to contend for the Central Plains, even if he managed to bring order to the bureaucracy, it would only be for someone else’s benefit.

Such an outcome was not what Li Wenyuan wanted. Even if he finally returned the Western Regions to the court, he would be stripped of real power and left to idle away his days far from the political center.

Li Wenyuan finally made his decision: regardless of the era, as the great men of later generations said, “Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.” He would first seize the military authority in the Western Regions, then use that power to cut through the chaos of the bureaucracy, and ultimately forge a new political system according to his own vision. Breaking before building was the most efficient path.

At this thought—before he could ponder it further—Zhang Juntao called out beside him, “General, we’ve reached Jincheng.”

Upon hearing this, Li Wenyuan straightened his back and gazed toward the distant city. From afar, he saw a young girl standing outside the city gate, seemingly waiting for someone. Li Wenyuan immediately recognized her as Qiuniang, whom he had not seen for so long. His heart warmed at once, and he spurred his horse forward, galloping toward the gate.