Chapter 84: At Jinshan Pass

With Li Wenyuan’s particular attention, newspapers throughout the Western Regions, and even in some key commanderies and counties in the Central Plains where Li Wenyuan had established newspaper distribution points, all reported in detail and with accuracy the cause, process, and outcome of the trial of Guo the Butcher. At the same time, Li Wenyuan personally contributed an article, once again emphasizing that the laws he had promulgated in the Western Regions were based entirely on the Great Sui Code, with only certain minor details refined.

Moreover, Li Wenyuan specifically pointed out that the verdict against Guo the Butcher was firmly grounded in the law. He issued a proclamation to his subjects, warning them not to rely on luck—should anyone break the law, they would inevitably face due punishment, without exception. Crimes committed within the Western Regions would be prosecuted to the fullest extent, and even if the criminal fled to the ends of the earth, they would be brought to justice. From now on, in the Western Regions, the law would no longer make exceptions for the noble or the powerful.

On the desk before Emperor Yang of Sui also lay such a newspaper. The forced enrollment of children in schools, compulsory adult participation in literacy classes, the efforts to teach the people to read and write, and the recent civil and military imperial examinations held in the Western Regions—these were all measures Yang had long wished to implement himself. Yet, despite his lofty position, he could not wield power as freely as Li Wenyuan, unencumbered by fear or restraint. This was a major reason why, even after learning that Li Wenyuan had reorganized all the military forces in the Western Regions, openly abandoning the central government’s prescribed system, Yang suppressed his impulse to remove Li Wenyuan from his post as Grand Governor of the Western Regions.

The very concept of the newspaper was something wholly novel to Yang. It greatly bridged the distance between the people and the government, saving the manpower previously used to post official notices, and even recouping some costs through sales. Furthermore, distinguished scholars and great literati often published their insights and commentary on current affairs, broadening the populace’s horizons and lifting them from their narrow, small-farmer concerns—something Yang himself had yearned to achieve, though no effective method had ever come to him.

As for the Western Region Code, printed and widely distributed in the West through movable type, Yang had also ordered the Censorate to procure a copy. Upon close inspection, he found, as Li Wenyuan claimed, that it merely elaborated upon the Great Sui Code, making it more suitable for local application, without any sign of a separatist legal system or a move to independence.

Yang’s ambition was to be remembered as the greatest emperor of all ages, often likening himself to the First Emperor of Qin or Emperor Wu of Han. Yet he was keenly aware of the fundamental differences between himself and those ancient monarchs. Emperor Wu, following his ancestors’ tradition of nurturing the people, eventually expelled the Xiongnu from the Ordos with the strength of the entire nation, expanding the realm northward and earning eternal renown. Yang possessed the ambition and vision of Emperor Wu, yet his subjects were remnants of previous dynasties. Though they outwardly submitted to Sui rule, deep down, seeds of division had long been sown. To gradually erase their loyalty to former regimes would take generations—time Yang did not have. Reflecting on the past, he saw his situation mirrored that of the First Emperor after unifying the Six Kingdoms. Was his Sui dynasty too doomed to fall with the next generation?

Yang had pondered this before. The First Emperor had always treated the former subjects of the Six Kingdoms with tolerance, offering them high office and entrusting them with local administration, never inflicting harm. Yet, when the aristocrats of the Six Kingdoms overthrew Qin, they annihilated the emperor’s descendants. Since leniency only led to disaster, was it not better to extinguish all hidden threats at their root? With this in mind, Yang turned to Yu Shinan before him and commanded, “Urge Zhang Xutuo to swiftly eradicate the bandits in Shandong. For those involved in rebellion, execute not only them but their entire clans. Show no mercy.”

Glancing at the desk, Yang’s gaze fell upon a memorial from Li Wenyuan. He picked it up and leafed through it casually. The memorial reported that the Western Region army had completed its reorganization and was soon to move against Li Gui. Yang dipped his cinnabar brush and wrote a bold “Approved” at the end, before setting it aside and taking up the Grand Governor of Jiangnan’s memorial. After all, compared to the desolate Western Regions, Yang cared more for the prosperous lands of Jiangnan.

“Brother Qin, isn’t this strange?” said Cheng Yaojin, tightening his cloak as he rode alongside Qin Qiong. “When we left Wuwei Commandery, it was the height of summer. Now that we’ve reached the mountaintop, it’s freezing cold.”

“I’ve explained this to you countless times, but you never listen,” Qin Qiong replied. “This isn’t just any mountaintop—it’s what the Grand Governor calls a plateau. It’s higher than Wuwei, and the higher you go, the colder it gets. Haven’t you heard the Governor’s poem? ‘When all the April blossoms have faded in the world below, peach flowers bloom in the mountain temple.’ It means that by early summer, all the spring flowers have withered, but in the temple on the mountain, the peach blossoms are only just opening. Such is the nature of this place.” He unfastened a leather flask from his saddle, took a swig of the strong liquor, and handed it to Cheng Yaojin.

“So in the end, you’re saying we’re in a mountain after all? I’m not wrong,” grumbled Cheng Yaojin, taking a drink and feeling the warmth return to his body, though he refused to concede the point.

“You’ve been glib since childhood; I’ll not argue further,” Qin Qiong said. “The Grand Governor has entrusted us with leading the Second Legion through Xihai Commandery, to seize the only southern gate to Dunhuang—Dangjin Pass. We must make our mark in this battle. You’ve seen the recent reorganization and training: the Western Region Army cares nothing for personal connections. If you want promotion and wealth, you must earn military merit.”

“Yet, brother Qin, you were the one reluctant to come in the first place! Under Zhang Xutuo, what chance did you have for advancement? All the high posts were already occupied by useless gluttons! If I, Iron Ox, hadn’t persuaded you with my silver tongue, would you be commanding troops now, marching at the fore?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Qin Qiong snapped, annoyed at the reminder of his initial reluctance to leave his minor post under Zhang Xutuo and join the Western Region martial exam. “You keep babbling such nonsense. Now, get your men and clear the way for the main force.”

As the martial song—“If we lack robes, we shall share our armor; when the king raises his army, we hone our spears and halberds”—drifted from the marching ranks, Qin Qiong’s thoughts had already flown ahead to their destination: Dangjin Pass.