Chapter Thirteen: I Have a Plan

All the ministers fell silent; no one dared to be the first to step forward and make a nomination.

Everyone was watching one another’s reactions, as well as the emperor’s stance on the matter.

“The passing of Chancellor Huai is a deep sorrow. Great Chu has lost a pillar of the state, and I have lost an arm,” Qin Yong said mournfully, though his expression remained composed, even faintly smiling.

“After much deliberation yesterday, I find that no official in the court matches Chancellor Huai’s caliber, even slightly. Therefore, I have decided that from this day forward, no prime minister shall be appointed.”

“Your Majesty, without a prime minister, all the burdens of state affairs fall solely on Your Majesty’s shoulders. This old servant dares to say, this is utterly inadvisable.”

“Your Majesty, Lord Wang is not without reason. I concur that the court’s major affairs require a prime minister to assist the emperor.”

“I concur.”

“So do I.”

A chorus of voices knelt in the hall, all in agreement.

Xiao Zhi glanced left and right, only to find himself standing alone, isolated.

Once the objections from the ministers had quieted somewhat, Qin Yong spoke deliberately, “From this day forward, the court shall establish a Secret Affairs Office. Reports from the Six Ministries shall first be reviewed there; only after decisions are made will they be submitted to me. Only then shall my edicts be issued and enforced throughout the realm.”

Xiao Zhi’s eyes lit up. Isn’t this exactly like the Ming Dynasty’s Cabinet? It also bore similarities to the Qing Dynasty’s Grand Council.

With this Secret Affairs Office in place, the presence or absence of a prime minister became irrelevant. Even if one existed, their power would be greatly diminished.

Within the Secret Affairs Office itself, factions would inevitably form, competing and scheming openly and covertly.

Most crucially, imperial authority would be greatly strengthened. Matters of state would not be decided unless the emperor decreed them.

Xiao Zhi couldn’t help but smile—this young emperor is quite remarkable.

The ministers were still reluctant to yield. How could they easily give up the power they held? This was no longer a matter of who should be prime minister but whether there should be a prime minister at all.

Qin Yong’s voice turned cold. “This decision is final. No more discussion. Who will meet with the Northern Barbarian envoy?”

Silence filled the court. Who would go now that there was no prime minister?

This task was thankless. The Northern Barbarian envoys were notoriously rude, known for assaulting officials.

Moreover, failed negotiations could lead to disgrace or worse.

After all, this was a humiliating treaty that sacrificed sovereignty. Historians would immortalize such failures in infamy.

“Why? Has the entire court lost its courage? Why are you all acting like timid maidens?” Qin Yong’s eyes swept the room, searching for someone capable of bearing this heavy responsibility.

Qin Yong wished to avoid war with the Northern Barbarians and did not want to increase the annual tribute. As someone on the verge of becoming a great restorer of the dynasty, he even hoped to save on tribute payments.

Silence persisted.

Just as the emperor was about to call names, a voice suddenly rang out.

“I have a plan!”

All eyes turned sharply to Xiao Zhi, met with strange looks.

Shi Weigong glanced sideways at Xiao Zhi. “You have another plan?”

“Yes, I do. It’s a cunning one.”

“I fail to see how. Lord Xiao seems to know everything, even how to negotiate with foreign envoys. I’d like to hear whose ruin this cunning plan will bring about,” Shi Weigong sneered.

Xiao Zhi smiled. “It will ruin the freeloading beasts and treacherous schemers in power. Lord Shi, I wonder—are you a beast or a traitor?”

“You—” Shi Weigong’s eyes widened in fury, his finger trembling as he pointed at Xiao Zhi.

“You insolent whelp! I reason with you, and you resort to personal attacks.”

“What of it? Am I wrong?” Xiao Zhi turned, bowed slightly to Qin Yong, and said, “Your Majesty, since it is a plan, it is not suitable to reveal it publicly.”

Qin Yong nodded with a hum. “The matter of the Northern Barbarians requires careful, long-term consideration.”

At last, Qin Yong set the tone.

Whether to wage war or make peace with the Northern Barbarians would depend on how smoothly the salt industry reforms proceeded.

With funds in hand, there was no need to panic.

If Xiao Zhi could secure a decade’s worth of salt tax revenue, Great Chu would be well-positioned to confront the Northern Barbarians. Attacking the distant northern deserts was unrealistic, but defending the border towns would be manageable.

After the court session, ministers departed in small groups. Xiao Zhi approached the Minister of Works, Geng Wenshi.

“Minister,” Xiao Zhi greeted, startling the older official.

“Lord Xiao, what can I do for you?” Geng Wenshi had been hoping to find Xiao Zhi but hadn’t thought of an excuse. Now Xiao Zhi came to him voluntarily.

“It’s not a lesson, but I have something useful for the Ministry of Works.”

He then pulled out several sheets of paper and handed them to Geng Wenshi.

“What is this?” Geng Wenshi glanced around cautiously, hesitant to open them immediately.

“I’m not bribing you. This is a set of blueprints—for a four-wheeled carriage.”

What was he thinking? This old official was so used to accepting gifts that he suspected it.

With that, Xiao Zhi leisurely left. He had no time to chat with Geng Wenshi; the emperor was about to summon him to hear his views on the Northern Barbarians and his cunning plan.

Great Chu was an era of extreme backwardness in productivity; four-wheeled horse-drawn carriages had yet to appear.

Two-wheeled carts had limited capacity, and much of the load burdened the animals. The problem was the lack of a steering mechanism. What Xiao Zhi gave Geng Wenshi was the design for such a steering system.

Geng Wenshi walked slowly, perusing the papers with growing astonishment.

“This young man’s understanding of mechanics is extraordinarily profound,” he murmured, speechless.

Though the frame looked small, it was no ordinary device.

If applied to the military camps, it would enhance combat effectiveness.

In this era, armies of two hundred thousand were raised, but only a fraction were fighters; most were logistical support.

For example, armor—do you think soldiers marched wearing it? That’s a cinematic effect. All such equipment was transported by carts and horses, requiring supply troops.

If the blueprints Xiao Zhi provided could be realized, deploying two hundred thousand troops would effectively increase the number of combat-ready soldiers by at least twenty percent.

That difference could be decisive in war.

When combat power is comparable, wars are won by logistics and national strength.

Moreover, such carriages could be used anywhere and appeared inexpensive to produce, designed with remarkable ingenuity.

Geng Wenshi believed these four-wheeled carts would soon spread throughout every prefecture of Great Chu. Whether for merchants or commoners, improved transportation would boost productivity.

“Hey, you there!”

Coincidentally, as the court adjourned, Ministry of Works officials were heading to their posts. Geng Wenshi called to a clerk and handed him the blueprints.

“Make sure this is built before nightfall. If you fail, I’ll relieve you of your duties!”

Having given his orders, Geng Wenshi hurried after Xiao Zhi’s departing figure.

Xiao Zhi went to the Hall of Diligent Governance, while Geng Wenshi waited outside for a full hour.

When Xiao Zhi emerged, walking briskly, Geng Wenshi immediately approached him, no longer maintaining the dignified bearing expected of a minister.

“Lord Xiao.”

“Minister, you have business?”

Xiao Zhi naturally understood his intent. These court officials, especially the ministers of the Six Ministries, all came from aristocratic families. Their purposes in seeking him out were written plainly on their faces.