Chapter Thirteen: Just Shy of the Goal

Feng Xiaobao had always maintained good habits; he rose early each morning to exercise, yet to his surprise, Xuanqing was up even earlier, already seated in the main hall for his morning lessons. Hearing the sounds Feng Xiaobao made, Xuanqing nodded slightly in acknowledgment. The early bird catches the worm; diligent people always find rewards, inspiring others to have faith in them as well.

The communal latrine, fetching water from the well to wash—Feng Xiaobao deeply longed for the conveniences of the modern age! The drive for innovation springs from the pressures of daily life. For the sake of a flush toilet, to avoid the stench of others' waste, to simply turn a tap and have water, he resolved to work hard.

He began practicing his forms in the courtyard, using a mix of family boxing routines and general exercises to loosen his body. The local situation was unclear, so naturally he wouldn’t reveal his true martial arts. Still, he fretted that without practice, his skills would grow rusty; he’d have to find a place to build a wooden dummy and train Wing Chun.

Unbeknownst to him, the temple was so small that everything was in plain sight. Watching his calisthenics and push-ups, Xuanqing found himself utterly refreshed, as if seeing something entirely new. A man from the future? Xuanqing pondered deeply.

As the sun rose, breakfast was delivered—a hearty, spirited, and cheerful matron, clad in simple clothes but radiating energy and speaking in a clear, bold voice. She greeted Xuanqing with a bow, and he returned the courtesy.

“This is Madam Hu, the proprietress of Hu’s Breakfast Shop,” Xuanqing introduced.

He accepted offerings from the faithful, and breakfast was usually steamed buns with a bit of pickled vegetables. The taste was decent, and Feng Xiaobao ate heartily, earning another approving nod from Xuanqing: those who aspire to great things cannot be particular about the comforts of life.

Truth be told, Hu’s flatbreads were also an option, but Xuanqing insisted that the buns were sufficient. Both young men ate voraciously, making quick work of ten buns, and then sat across from each other, eyes wide.

After a moment, Xuanqing asked, “Xiaobao, do you have any plans?”

“Big Brother, I plan to start by selling medicine, then consider other endeavors,” Feng Xiaobao replied, deciding to return to his old trade and take things step by step.

Though they’d only known each other since the previous afternoon, they already called each other brothers. Hearing his intention, Xuanqing’s eyes flashed, and he shook his head. “That’s not the best course.”

“Why not?” Feng Xiaobao asked, puzzled.

“Because…” Xuanqing’s eyes gleamed and he raised his thumb. “The Emperor has relocated to Luoyang.”

So that was it! During the Tang dynasty, there were two capitals: Chang’an and Luoyang. Initially, Chang’an held primacy, but from the second year of Linde (665), Emperor Gaozong and Empress Wu spent most of their time in Luoyang, rarely returning to Chang’an except for state ceremonies.

In other words, Luoyang had become the true center of power, while Chang’an was little more than an empty title. Luoyang’s rise as the Tang Empire’s seat of power was both Empress Wu’s handiwork and a response to practical needs. She remained in Luoyang partly because her ascent was stained with blood; after orchestrating the cruel downfall and deaths of Empress Wang and Consort Xiao, she was haunted by guilt, believing their ghosts plagued the palace, appearing in her dreams with wild hair and bloody faces, leaving her unsettled and afraid.

To escape her conscience, she needed a new environment, free from ghosts, and Luoyang fit the bill. Another, almost farcical reason, was the instability of the realm; the road from Chang’an to Luoyang was plagued by bandits so bold they didn’t even fear imperial troops, ambushing officials, digging traps, or attacking from the shadows. Even Emperor Gaozong’s journey to Luoyang required the aid of a notorious bandit chief from Wannian County’s jail for protection—imagine, the Son of Heaven guarded by an outlaw. The imperial dignity was nowhere to be found.

Some might say, “Let the emperor’s wrath spill rivers of blood and quell the bandits!” But Gaozong’s reign differed from that of his father, Emperor Taizong. Taizong’s era was marked by powerful generals and founding heroes who crushed any opposition, but by Gaozong’s time, the ranks of great commanders had thinned, military strength had waned, and his domestic governance was weaker too. Grain was pricier than in Taizong’s era, and internal mismanagement led to a surge in banditry that could not be eradicated.

Productivity was limited, roads were poor, and development lagged behind. Even in modern times, before the economic reforms, country roads were lined with trees and plunged into darkness at night, making it easy for bandits to vanish into the woods after their deeds.

Moreover, Chang’an was densely populated, but food was hard to transport, leading to frequent shortages—even the palace sometimes went hungry. Emperor Gaozong himself led his officials and guards to Luoyang four times “to seek food.” Luoyang, on the other hand, enjoyed favorable weather, ample stores, and convenient transport, including the Grand Canal, which allowed rice and other goods from the south to be easily shipped in. Luoyang was well-stocked and strategically superior, able to both attack and defend.

With both emperor and empress settled in Luoyang, Xuanqing, knowing Feng Xiaobao’s capabilities, naturally thought ahead on his behalf. Once Feng Xiaobao reached his full potential, Xuanqing would benefit greatly.

He said, “The court now favors Luoyang, the officials follow suit. My master has an Immortal’s Temple there. We can stay at his temple.”

Li Chunfeng was a master of geomancy, and with Luoyang’s royal fortune at its peak, he had long ago secured a place there.

“To Luoyang?” Feng Xiaobao asked.

“Exactly,” Xuanqing nodded, then inquired, “Shall I show you around Chang’an first?”

“No need,” Feng Xiaobao waved it off. “Another time, perhaps.”

“You mean you want to leave at once?”

“That’s right.”

Xuanqing found himself reassessing Feng Xiaobao. Here was a newcomer to Chang’an, yet he was unmoved by the city’s renowned splendor. Chang’an was the grandest city of the Tang, its wealth and opportunities unmatched. Even though the court’s focus had shifted, the great families still clung to Chang’an’s luxuries. Yet Feng Xiaobao was not dazzled, and wanted to depart at once, leaving Xuanqing to wonder if he truly was from the future.

Feng Xiaobao then said, “If your esteemed master is available, I’d like to pay my respects.”

A sage who could foresee his arrival—how could he not seek guidance? Perhaps it would save him many detours. Unfortunately, Xuanqing explained that his master, elderly and ailing, was reclusive and saw no visitors.

Indeed, everyone longed for Li Chunfeng’s guidance—even the emperor. But Li Chunfeng, wary of revealing too many heavenly secrets, preferred to feign illness and seclusion, seeing no one. His guidance to Xuanqing was an exception for his own young disciple—few were so fortunate.

Upon learning he would not meet Li Chunfeng, Feng Xiaobao was deeply disappointed. Xuanqing said, “I’ll make arrangements at once—we’ll leave immediately!”

He left and, half an hour later, returned. “A merchant caravan is setting out for the Eastern Capital. We can travel with them!”

Feng Xiaobao packed lightly, and Xuanqing was quick to ready his bundle as well. Together, they set off.

It proved a wise decision. The thugs sent after Feng Xiaobao by the ruthless Lame Hao, who coveted his ancestral prescription in Feng Prefecture, arrived in Chang’an a day later. Normally, they would have made little trouble, but Lame Hao’s connections found the matter intriguing and sent men to search everywhere. As a local tyrant, he had many resources; had Feng Xiaobao lingered, he might have been discovered. Leaving early, with few traces, ensured no one could find him, no matter how capable.

The merchant caravan Xuanqing found belonged to the Sogdians. Their homeland lay west of the Onion Ridge, in the region between the rivers. As early as the Northern and Southern Dynasties, they had established city-states like Kang, An, Mi, Cao, Shi, and He—known in Chinese as the “Nine Surnames of Zhaowu.” Located in the heart of Asia, these states grew wealthy with the opening of the Silk Road.

The Sogdians excelled at commerce, and many became great merchants. They developed their own alphabet, derived from the Aramaic script, and were highly cultured, with advanced arts in painting, music, and dance. As foreigners, they thrived in the Tang dynasty, which, though ruled by Han Chinese, had Hu blood in the imperial family and therefore was not discriminatory. The Tang enforced strict policies favoring agriculture over commerce among Han people and banned them from international trade, leaving the Sogdians to dominate Silk Road commerce. Their wealth far outstripped that of ordinary Han merchants, and even great official clans could not match them.

Their success owed much to political acumen; they aligned themselves with powerful patrons and secured political positions advantageous to their trade. They were smooth operators, always betting wisely. For instance, Xuanqing, a twenty-year-old Taoist priest of little fame, approached the Sogdian caravan led by Kang Cainen, a burly middle-aged man in white, hair slicked with fragrant oil, fingers glittering with rings, a heavy gold chain draped over his shoulders, and a dazzling “Ten-Thousand-Studded Jeweled Belt” at his waist. This belt, adorned with precious stones and weapons, was a famous Sogdian status symbol. Most notably, he carried a fish-shaped pouch, marking him as a Tang official.

(The fish pouch indicated an official rank; it was a badge of office, with officials carrying a fish-shaped tally inscribed with their name, post, department, and rank. The material signified status—gold for princes and top officials, silver for fifth rank and above, bronze for lower. To facilitate travel, officials had special pouches for their tallies, with strict rules to never separate tally from pouch.)

Despite his wealth and status, Kang Cainen was exceedingly respectful to the unranked Xuanqing, greeting him first and expressing his honor in traveling together. Though it was Xuanqing who sought his help, he claimed it was his own good fortune.

Even when Xuanqing initially introduced Feng Xiaobao merely as a companion, Kang Cainen was unfailingly polite and deferential.

“Incredible men attract extraordinary companions,” he said. “Anyone traveling with the Taoist must be remarkable and must not be slighted.”

Such conduct left a deep impression; the Sogdians’ success was no accident. Nor were they servile—they simply had keen judgment. Had Xuanqing been a mere prodigal, Kang Cainen would have been courteous but not warm. But as the disciple of the great Li Chunfeng, Kang Cainen was delighted to help, having already made offerings to Xuanqing’s temple. He welcomed the chance for closer ties, knowing that continued interaction would surely yield rewards.

The Sogdians were masters of the long game, investing in promising prospects. Now, Feng Xiaobao was on their watch list, and it remained to be seen how he would perform in the days to come.