Chapter 20: Financial Commentary (First Round of Voting)

After seeing off Sima Junshi, Li Chang’an sat alone for a long while.

It seemed he had fully drawn the court’s attention. There was no point in hiding anymore; better to give them some trouble quickly.

Leaving his study, he met briefly with Guangxiao, then listened to the progress report on the school’s construction.

By then, dusk was settling in, and the heat had lessened.

He stepped outside with Qian Weiming for some fresh air. The two strolled side by side along the corridor, occasionally swatting at mosquitoes.

“Feeling restless? Let me tell you, this is already the finest scion of the Qian family. Even if you went to the Imperial Academy, you wouldn’t find anyone better than this!” Qian Weiming said.

“See? You’re anxious again! Sima Junshi came to see me. Their government bonds aren’t selling well, and they want me to find a solution.”

They had discussed this before. Qian Weiming believed that the great families would never yield easily.

If they wanted money, they had to get benefits in return.

No clan cared about a single percentage of interest; what mattered was power—how much authority the court would grant the aristocracy through these bonds.

“Do you have a plan?”

Li Chang’an waved his fan proudly, chin raised like a sage above worldly affairs.

“Whether I have a plan or not is another matter. But taking this opportunity, we can publish our article first. If they want to use me, they can’t afford to offend me. That way, we’re safe.”

Talking about publication made Qian Weiming swallow nervously.

Publishing state secrets openly—if this were another era, it would be a death sentence.

Yet, the talent was still untrained.

“I’ll tell everyone again: learn your method of data compilation quickly. We’ll try to finish the article within half a month.”

He felt ashamed for his own family; he had mastered it in just one month, yet his brothers were still struggling after nearly ten days.

“If they don’t catch up, it’ll be too late. You and I will write it ourselves first.”

“But... what about the data? The two of us can’t possibly gather data from dozens of counties. You don’t really think you’re some immortal, do you?”

Li Chang’an laughed heartily. Immortal? Even if one came down, he wouldn’t be mightier than me.

Writing a financial analysis required one thing above all else: a framework. The first, second, and third priority was the framework.

Data could be used in countless ways.

Case studies, sampling, averages, medians—there were all kinds of tricks.

The conclusion was already there. For papers published by great social scientists of later generations, all one needed was to find data that fit the argument.

As the saying goes, first shoot the arrow, then draw the target; everyone is a marksman.

“All right, let them rest. Tonight, you and I will burn the midnight oil!”

***

Two days later, at Donghe Bookstore.

The owner’s eyes seemed to blaze as he read the article Li Chang’an had delivered.

A rare masterpiece—finally, after all these years running the shop, he had come across a work worthy of eternal renown.

Even if the bookstore closed afterward, everyone could rest easy.

“Six thousand two hundred twelve characters total, paid double per character, cash upfront, express delivery!”

“Got it! Stop all other printing jobs immediately. Six people start working; guarantee submission in three days!” By market standards, he wouldn’t accept such an urgent job for less than fifty guan.

Li Chang’an left ten guan as the deposit, then wandered over to Chunhua Tower, the stronghold of the financial society.

“President Li, any instructions?” the shopkeeper greeted him.

Li Chang’an handed over a notice. “Tell them that in five days, Young Master Qian will give his first lecture, titled ‘The Secrets of Land.’”

“Understood, I’ll notify everyone. You can count on me!”

Leaving Chunhua Tower, he took a carriage toward Wang Anshi’s residence.

Though confident the Qian family could withstand the court’s pressure and that Wang Anshi would not act underhandedly, he still wanted to take precautions.

Old Wang was not afraid to offend anyone. At least before Wang Pang’s poisoning, he never showed fear.

He knocked, handed over the notice, and waited.

Two or three minutes later, Wang Pang came running out, still not fully shod.

“Oh, you’re late, late! I was just about to look for you!” Wang Pang’s face was full of eager anticipation, as if he had waited a long time.

He grabbed Li Chang’an’s hand and pulled him into the courtyard.

In a small yard stood a pond, with a boxwood tree on the west side casting a cool shade.

Wang Pang luxuriated, having set up a mosquito net pavilion where he read and wrote memorials.

“Come help me think. The court ministers are at each other’s throats over the bond issuance; nobody wants to take responsibility. It’s maddening.”

On the table were cut fruit and a large pot of honey lemon water.

Prime minister treatment was certainly good; Li Chang’an was too busy working to enjoy such comforts.

When Su Zizhan returned, he would ask him how to live more comfortably.

Eating melon and fanning himself, Li Chang’an said, “There’s always a way when you reach the bridgehead. What do you fear?”

***

Wang Pang was stunned. Where did he learn such a witty phrase? It didn’t sound human; it sounded like a landslide or earthquake.

“Hurry, help me think of a plan. You want to see the Ministry of Revenue’s archives, right? I promised. Help me with this, and you can access them anytime.”

Such boasting—he acted as if he controlled the Ministry himself.

“Really?”

“Absolutely!”

“All right. In five days, I invite you to a lecture. If you understand it, I’ll reveal the secrets of bond issuance.”

Wang Pang could hardly wait five days. If he had to wait two or three more days, his young, handsome face would be covered in white hair.

“Chang’an, we’ve known each other for years. Help your brother this once, just this once. Afterward, you can call me whatever you want.”

“Hm...” Li Chang’an reached out. “First, hand me the pass to enter the archives. Payment and delivery at once.”

Wang Pang clenched his teeth, wiped his nose, and took a gamble.

He slipped on wooden clogs, rushed into the house, and after a long while returned barefoot, handing over an embroidered pouch with gold thread.

“This is the pass for editing the Three Departments’ regulations. It’s enough for you. But don’t lend it out, or you’ll lose your head!”

Ha! Li Chang’an hadn’t expected such a windfall. He had been worried about the difficulty of accessing many documents and now suddenly had a treasure in hand.

Sima Guang was indeed unfit as a central minister—he never rewarded his subordinates and always expected free labor.

Our young lord was magnanimous, offering hot jade stones just to test the waters.

“I have a story about suppressing bandits to tell you... The wealthy gentry pay first, then the common people follow. After the common people pay, the gentry return the original amount...”

Wang Pang’s eyes lit up. How had he not thought of such a simple trick?

His gaze flicked toward the embroidered pouch in Li Chang’an’s hand, and he leaned in closer.

“Hey, it’s so hot—why get so close? This is only one step. For the full plan, remember to come to the lecture in five days.”

Li Chang’an hurried away; he felt something was off with Wang Pang’s look—perhaps he had a penchant for young men.

Suddenly, the wind rose, moisture condensed into clouds, gradually obscuring the sky.

Beneath the dark clouds, an undercurrent surged, as if a black dragon stirred within, struggling to break free from the sky’s shackles and soar to the heavens.