Chapter 24: Only a Handful of Rice Per Day

Despite Gao Buyi’s meticulous preparations to face the famine, by mid-July, people had still begun to starve to death—a fact that enraged him deeply.

“Li Gan, as Prefect of Chang’an, how could there be deaths from hunger when supplies are ample? You are unfit for your post! Does your conscience not ache?”

“Your Majesty, please quell your anger. I deserve a thousand deaths!”

“A thousand deaths? Do you have a thousand lives to give? Return immediately and provide proper relief. Should this happen again, I will punish you without mercy!”

“Yes, yes!”

“Minister Pei, have the Ministry of Revenue send people to assist, and investigate how such a thing happened. For a grand Prefect of Chang’an to let people starve amid abundance—he’s less useful than a pig.”

“Yes, Sire!”

When the ministers had withdrawn, Gao Buyi was left restless and unsettled. According to the Prefect’s reports, the disaster had only just begun, yet already people were dying. He could not predict what would happen next, for he knew little of the Tang dynasty’s disaster relief system. The thought of the horrors of people forced to eat their own children made his fingers grow cold.

“No, I cannot remain shut away in this deep palace any longer. Grand strategies can only go so far; I need to see for myself how they are implemented. Hearsay and official reports aren’t reliable, especially when it comes to coaxing the truth from the smooth tongues of officials.”

Resolute, he summoned the Crown Prince to handle daily affairs, then quietly slipped out of Chang’an with Shangguan Peihui at his side. No one knew of their departure, save for the escort of the increasingly well-trained Peilong Guard.

Before leaving the city, Gao Buyi suddenly remembered Li Bai. He had promised to meet him, but had been too busy with state affairs; in the end, he had merely appointed him to the Hanlin Academy. How had he fared since? Gao had Shangguan Peihui send for both Li Bai and Cui Yuan.

This way, he would have companions with whom to converse, and could also learn more about the customs and culture of the people.

But the moment they left Chang’an and turned onto a country path, the sight before him was like a thunderbolt. His memories of the countryside remained rooted in the twenty-first century—if not every family owned a house of red brick, at least sixty percent should, he thought. After all, this was the flourishing Tang dynasty. Reality, however, struck him with a resounding slap.

Red brick houses? These did not exist. There were only low, earthen huts thatched with straw; the more fortunate had foundations of blue bricks, barely rising at the corners. With famine stalking the land, smoke no longer rose from a single chimney. Peering through a fence of crooked wooden poles into the yards, he saw, regardless of age, everyone’s clothes patched over patch.

At the sight, Gao Buyi’s mind went blank. He felt he had failed these people, his own preconceptions having brought them suffering.

Unable to restrain himself, he pushed open the gate of a nearby household. At the appearance of four strangers, the woman and children in the yard shrank behind the man of the house.

“Where have you come from?”

“We’re travelers from afar, passing through on our way to Chang’an. Night is falling, and we seek shelter—would you be able to accommodate us?”

“So that’s it. You’re welcome to stay, but as for food, we can offer none. The disaster has only just struck; our family survives on government relief, and we have no surplus grain. Forgive us, honored guests.”

“No matter, we’ve brought our own provisions. A place out of the wind and cold is all we ask.”

The man thought for a moment, then said, “Wife, sweep out the main room for our guests.”

“That’s too much, we only need a small room.”

“No need to refuse, honored guests. Not being able to serve you food is already a grave discourtesy; if we fail further in hospitality, the village elders will hear of it tomorrow, and our family would be shamed.”

Gao Buyi was about to refuse, but Li Bai quietly tugged at his sleeve. Gao turned, puzzled, and Li Bai smiled, “The host’s kindness must not be declined.”

Thus, Gao Buyi accepted.

After they settled in, the woman and children retreated into a small thatched hut in the corner and did not appear again that night.

“What karma have I wrought?” Gao Buyi lamented. He had once thought it would be easy to enrich the people, but witnessing their lives firsthand showed how naïve and presumptuous he had been. If the people of Chang’an lived thus, what of those in the northwest and northeast? What must their lives be like? At this thought, he felt an urge to flee.

He sighed deeply and went to sit on a wooden stump in the yard, bathed in moonlight.

Shangguan Peihui noticed his heavy heart, but, uncertain of the cause, stood quietly by without disturbing him.

Li Bai soon joined him. “You look troubled, my lord. What weighs on your mind?”

“Master Li, you have traveled widely. Have you been to the northwest or northeast?”

“I have journeyed there.”

“How do the people fare?”

“Life is hard. Many still wear animal hides. You may laugh, but when I traveled there, I wore nothing but a white hemp robe.”

“Really? I’ve heard that the noblewomen there are daughters of great houses.”

“Even so, few can afford decent clothing. The Jianghuai region is somewhat prosperous, but land is scarce and water abundant. Most people are concentrated in the north, and those living on the frontiers endure even more hardship. It’s hard to put into words. If you have the chance, you should see for yourself.”

“Then how did you come to write your line about incense rising in purple smoke from the sunlit stove?”

“At that time, I was frustrated and unfulfilled—disgusted by corruption at court and pained by the people’s suffering. So I traveled the great rivers and mountains, seeking solace in nature and drinking wine to numb myself.”

“A fine method!”

“Heh! You flatter me.”

A voice called out, “Honored guests, you’re still awake so late?”

“Forgive us, has our noise disturbed you?” Gao Buyi asked apologetically.

“No, no! We haven’t slept either. I’ve drawn some well water for you, please help yourselves.”

“Thank you for your kindness. Would you care to sit and talk with us?”

“Certainly, certainly.” The man sat down on the ground.

“We haven’t seen you light a fire all day. Did the government not provide relief grain today?”

“They did, but not enough even for one pot. We’re saving it to cook in two days. They also gave us some biscuits, which we made do with. To stave off hunger, the family lies down early.”

“What?!” Gao Buyi jumped to his feet. Not enough for even a pot of thin porridge? Where was the grain? Not to mention the official granaries, even the laborers’ stores held hundreds of thousands of dan.

Seeing Gao Buyi’s anger, the others rose at once. Gao forced his fury down and managed a smile. “Nothing, nothing! Just a cramp in my face. Host, may I see the relief grain you received today?”

“Of course, honored guest. Please wait.”

When he saw the small handful of rice, barely more than what would cover the bottom of a bowl, Gao Buyi nearly cursed aloud. Four people in one household, and only a handful of rice for a day. Fury surged in his heart.

Seeing the worried look on the host’s face as he clutched the bowl, Gao Buyi felt an unspeakable sorrow. That such a meager portion should inspire gratitude—these officials deserved to die.