Chapter Sixty-Two: Undercurrents Surge

If there is much to say, the words are long; if not, they are short. In the blink of an eye, time had already slipped into the cusp of summer and autumn. Autumn Lady’s night owls had spread the prophecy throughout the entire Western Region, and then, carrying the words, they followed the official roads, bringing the autumn winds from the west all the way to the capital.

In recent days, everything was slowly moving in the direction Li Wenyuan had hoped for. Xue Renyue exercised his outstanding political talents, organizing the bureaucracy of Wuwei Commandery into perfect order. Zhang Juntao smoothly reorganized most of the garrison troops in Wuwei, and aside from a handful of forces still under the control of Li Gui’s confidants, the remaining tens of thousands of soldiers now fell entirely under Li Wenyuan’s command.

The official settlements were completed with the help of Shopkeeper Jin and his team of artisans. Two thousand refugees, assisted by the commandery government, reclaimed large swathes of barren land, sowed crops in time, and awaited the autumn harvest. Though they would not have the finest grains, they would not go hungry.

The primary and secondary councils that Li Wenyuan had established days before were now formed, and launched their first topic: the employment and wages for this winter’s waterworks and city wall construction. The secondary council, composed of secretaries, proposed that for every ten households in the settlement, one should be chosen to help build the walls, and from the remaining households, one in ten participate in waterworks. Since these projects served the people, the government hoped to bear only material expenses, not manpower costs, providing only daily meals for those working.

When this proposal was brought to the primary council for discussion, some squad leaders voiced differing views: if these works benefited the people, then those who contributed labor should receive fair compensation. After deliberation between the squad leaders and their respective centurions, they demanded that those building the walls and improving waterworks should get proper wages, not merely daily meals.

This matter became a major issue in Wuwei Commandery. The people argued their case with the government, fighting for their rightful benefits and welfare—a situation unheard of by commoners and officials alike in this era. Officials from all factions, as well as the aristocratic clans, pressured Li Wenyuan to intervene and suppress the movement, fearing unrest among their own governed populace. Yet Li Wenyuan stood firm, ensuring the smooth debate of the first proposal.

China, with its vast population, has always suffered from the inefficiency of endless democratic debate. Li Wenyuan, coming from the future, knew these pitfalls well. Drawing lessons from the all-out brawls seen in some later parliaments, he established parliamentary constables to maintain order, decreeing that only verbal debate, never violence, was allowed.

As he designed the detailed rules of the assembly, Li Wenyuan recalled the famously ridiculous liberum veto in the Polish parliament of later generations, and thus set the rule that the minority must obey the majority—a principle widely accepted. He also introduced the seven-day rule: every proposal must be resolved within seven days, and if there is opposition, counterproposals must be submitted within that time, or the original proposal passes.

During the debate on the first proposal, Li Wenyuan observed closely as the primary and secondary councils vied for advantage. The primary council, made up of commoners, was unafraid of the bureaucratic secondary council, vigorously fighting for their own interests. Li Wenyuan was greatly satisfied. The people of China have always been industrious and honest; as long as they have food and a way to live, they would not be easily swayed into becoming bandits. The primary council, elected by the people, served as a vent for public opinion and grievances, enabling dialogue between government and populace, so their demands could be met. Matters that once required risking rebellion against the authorities could now be solved peacefully at the table, ensuring long-lasting stability.

The first proposal was debated successfully; the government agreed to provide more funds for better treatment of the workers, and both sides achieved their desired outcomes. Though Li Wenyuan withstood pressure from bureaucrats and clans, the issue was far from over. At first, the officials and aristocrats merely bribed a few thugs to disrupt the assembly, but parliamentary constables arrested them for interfering with proceedings.

Such underhanded tactics mattered little to Li Wenyuan. But when some fools went so far as to meddle with the army, crossing his bottom line, he knew it was time to draw his sword. The night owls had been thriving; as soon as the plotters took action, lists of names were delivered to Li Wenyuan.

The lists contained people from all walks: local bureaucrats, local aristocrats, even some from the capital. Holding the thick stack of names, Li Wenyuan knew it was time to close the net. The next day, all four gates of Wuwei Commandery were shut, martial law declared on the pretext of barbarian sightings. Zhang Juntao led the army through the city, arresting those named, and the commandery’s prisons soon overflowed.

Li Wenyuan personally presided over the trials, judging more than two hundred before all the people of Wuwei. With the border threatened by barbarians, a single charge of espionage was enough to condemn even the most powerful to death. The heads and blood of these two hundred struck terror into the hearts of local clans and bureaucrats, forcing them to abandon the idea of undermining Li Wenyuan’s control of the army and settle for bureaucratic infighting instead.

As for the thoughts of other officials and aristocrats, that remains to be seen. Li Gui, however, was particularly restless lately. More than a dozen of his own men, seduced by unknown influences, had participated in the scheme to seize Li Wenyuan’s military authority, and were executed in the public trial. These men had been mid-level officers, now replaced by Li Wenyuan’s own people. Yet Li Gui had neither means nor evidence to prove they were innocent, and angrily cursed them for ruining his plans, further weakening his already limited control over the army.

Moreover, the widely spread prophecy in the Western Region made Li Gui feel as if an invisible hand was pushing him forward, onto a path he could barely imagine, yet secretly longed for. The ambition long buried in his heart began to burn anew.