LFHYB – Chapter 5 Singing in Tandem to Subdue the Shopkeeper

The young masters of the Duke of Tang’s residence all began their education at the age of five, learning literacy, sentence parsing, and arithmetic.

After their initiation, they could receive monthly pocket money.

Li Xuanba calculated how much pocket money he and his second brother could save each month, and he immediately thought of doing some small-scale business.

He couldn’t build merit or achieve great deeds. If he could take advantage of the fact that the Sui dynasty hadn’t yet fallen into chaos to accumulate some assets, then when he later had to scrape by under Li Jiancheng, even if Li Jiancheng disliked him, he could at least use money to buy his life.

Originally, Li Xuanba thought that with the Duke of Tang’s residence as backing, he could just set up a stall along the road and do business.

After some investigation, he realized that, as a historical-marketing-account editor who specialized in fleecing Li Shimin, his understanding of the Sui–Tang period was still insufficient.

Huh? Historical marketing accounts are just history-illiterates fooling other history-illiterates? Then that’s fine—his professional ability was still solid.

So how did the commercial system of the Sui and Tang actually operate?

Emperor Wen of Sui built the new capital Daxing City and implemented the ward–market system, controlling population movement and suppressing commercial activity.

“Wards” were residential areas; “markets” were trading areas. Emperor Wen abolished all street-facing shops. Within wards and along the roads connecting wards, no commercial activity was allowed at all; all market transactions had to take place in the eastern and western markets of Daxing City.

The ward–market system was managed with extremely strict curfews. For example, market trading hours: “Markets open at midday—three hundred drumbeats, and the crowd gathers; before sunset by seven quarters—three hundred gong strikes, and the crowd disperses.” They were only open for one afternoon.

This set of rules was applied nationwide to all cities, large and small, and “in places that are not prefectural or county seats, markets may not be established.”

In the early Sui and Tang, these regulations were exceedingly harsh. According to his earlier idea, if he privately dragged out a small cart to sell goods, the light punishment would be sixty strokes of the cane; the heavy punishment would be charging both seller and buyer with theft.

Then how large were the markets where business could legally be done?

In the Sui and Tang, the number of wards and markets was determined by a city’s administrative rank, not by population size. The capital Daxing City and the eastern capital Luoyang each had between one hundred and one hundred ten wards, but only two markets.

Thus, shops in the markets could no longer be described as “every inch of land worth gold”—they could only be called “having a market but no price.” They had been completely divided up by meritorious nobles as early as the founding of Emperor Wen’s reign.

If Li Xuanba wanted to secretly do business within a ward, he would have to wait until the Zhenguan era, when his brother saw that such strict control over commerce was truly inconvenient and slightly relaxed the restrictions on ward commerce. Only then, with background protection, could he set up a stall to sell things.

If he wanted to casually find a roadside building and use it as a shop operating through the night, he would have to wait until after the An Lushan Rebellion, when the ward–market system completely collapsed.

Li Xuanba asked his mother whether he could consign goods for sale in the Duke of Tang’s own shops and received a negative answer, so he gave up on doing business.

For a commoner transmigrating to the early or high Tang, setting up a small stall and starting a business to get rich was impossible. Even he, the Third Young Master of the Duke of Tang’s residence, couldn’t do it—sigh.

Who would have thought that merely taking the blame for elder brother would actually earn him two shops?

Although Li Xuanba scolded his own brother for lacking ambition, at the time his own thought was also: so fragrant!

If he didn’t still have to rely on Li Jiancheng for his livelihood afterward, and couldn’t afford to offend Li Jiancheng too badly, he would even have wanted to take the initiative to “fake an accident and extort compensation.”

Daxing City, like the later Chang’an City, had the emperor’s temporary palace and the mansions of high officials and nobles clustered near the Eastern Market, known as the “Metropolitan Market.” The Eastern Market mainly dealt in luxury goods such as jewelry, antiques, and high-grade fabrics, and its streets were wider than those of the Western Market.

The Western Market, the “Market Benefiting the People,” was the marketplace for ordinary folk. Besides encompassing all daily necessities, after the Silk Road was reopened during the Zhenguan era, foreigners gathered in the Western Market. By the High Tang period, the prosperity of the Western Market would surpass that of the Eastern Market.

Although the Western Market had not yet gained the boost of foreign merchants, since traders without backing from powerful nobles were not qualified to enter the Eastern Market, the prototype of the saying “the Eastern Market is noble, the Western Market is rich” had already taken shape.

Whether in the Eastern or Western Market, the shops had long since been divided up by the aristocratic clans. The Sui dynasty had only passed through a single emperor, and the nobles were far from being reshuffled to the point where they needed to sell off shops.

That Lady Dou and Old Madam Dugu could take out shops for a six-year-old child to “play with” showed just how rich their dowries were, and how powerful the Dou and Dugu clans were in the Sui dynasty.

In front of outsiders, Li Xuanba appeared taciturn, but around Li Shimin he was a complete “chatterbox,” his mind babbling nonstop from the moment they left the house.

Li Shimin lay against the carriage window, curiously looking around while nodding repeatedly to let Li Xuanba know he was listening.

After explaining the Sui dynasty’s ward-and-market system to his brother in detail, Li Xuanba went on to talk about the “inside story” he had deduced from his grandmother’s and mother’s dowries.

Most of his grandmother’s shops were in the Eastern Market. However, strictly speaking, these were not part of her dowry, but rewards bestowed upon her by Empress Wenxian.

Most of his mother’s dowry shops were in the Western Market. From this one could see that although Emperor Wen of Sui did not act against the Northern Zhou princesses after exterminating the male members of the Yuwen clan, he did somewhat suppress the family of the Princess of Xiangyang.

Li Shimin turned his head. “Is that so? But the shops Grandmother gave you are in the Western Market, and the shops Mother gave you are in the Eastern Market.”

Li Xuanba: [So although both Grandmother and Mother love us, the degree of affection is still different.]

Li Shimin continued looking out the carriage window, his small head resting on his folded arms as it swayed slightly. “A-Xuan, you said the Eastern Market does business with nobles, and the Western Market with commoners. Then shops selling books and calligraphy—are there more of those in the Eastern Market?”

Li Xuanba: [Yes. The Imperial Academy is also near the Eastern Market, and candidates seeking official careers all lodge in the wards around the Eastern Market.]

The Imperial Academy refers to the Guozijian. In the third year of Daye under Emperor Yang of Sui, it was renamed Guozijian; in the first year of Wude under Emperor Gaozu of Tang, it was changed back to Guozixue; and in the first year of Zhenguan under Emperor Taizong, it was renamed Guozijian again.

Li Shimin curled his lip. “Then can the books in Western Market bookshops even sell?”

Li Xuanba: [The Western Market is close to Buddhist temples. The shops Grandmother gave are mainly for selling woodblock-printed Buddhist scriptures, and the profits are quite good. Although Grandmother doesn’t dote on us as much as Mother does, we’re still the apple of her eye.]

Li Shimin sat back beside Li Xuanba and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Grandmother’s ‘apple of her eye’ must be divided into many pieces. Eldest Brother is the biggest piece.”

Li Xuanba stifled a laugh. Second Brother’s snark was really sharp—put him on the internet in later generations, and he’d definitely be a top-tier surfer.

The shop Lady Dou gave Li Xuanba was one of her most profitable businesses. It was the first shop she owned back when she was still unmarried and practicing household management at her natal home. The people managing the shop were all old retainers who had followed her from her maiden family.

Right next door to this shop was the dowry Lady Dou had prepared for her soon-to-be-married daughter, Third Lady Li.

On this outing, Lady Dou had to attend on Old Madam Dugu and couldn’t spare her hands, so it was Third Lady Li who brought the two younger brothers along.

This Third Lady Li was none other than the later Princess Pingyang Zhao, whom Li Shimin would complain about as “even more hot-tempered than me.”

In later generations, because Li Shimin ordered the execution of Princess Pingyang Zhao’s second son, many conspiracy theories accused Li Shimin of treating her harshly.

Li Xuanba made a big deal out of this incident, drawing massive traffic and completing his superior’s performance KPI.

In order to fabricate convincing rumors, Li Xuanba first had to look up the real historical materials, mixing nine truths with one falsehood to make them believable. So he knew the facts were not like that at all.

First of all, Princess Pingyang Zhao had all her military authority removed in the first year of Wude and lived in Chang’an thereafter.

The name “Niangzi Pass” had existed hundreds of years before Princess Pingyang Zhao was born—it was a forced association by later generations.

After the Tang dynasty was established, Princess Pingyang Zhao was stripped of her military power and lived in Chang’an. She never guarded Niangzi Pass, so naturally she could not have had conflicts with Qin Prince Li Shimin, who was the main commander at the time.

Furthermore, Li Shimin actually treated Princess Pingyang Zhao generously. It’s just that the way women were “treated well” in a feudal era does not align with modern values.

Before Chai Lingwu and Princess Baling became involved in treason, Chai Shao’s eldest son inherited the title of Duke of Qiao, and his second son, because he married a princess, was enfeoffed as Duke of Xiangyang. This made them a rare top-tier noble family with two dukes in one household.

Later, although Chai Shao’s eldest son Chai Zhewei was implicated in a crime and exiled to Lingnan, he was soon reinstated as Governor-General of Jiaozhou, and died in office in the second year after Li Shimin’s death.

A Governor-General was the highest local military commander. During the Zhenguan era, inland governor-general posts were abolished, and each remaining governor-general held heavy troops as a frontier strongman—clearly showing Li Shimin’s trust in him.

Li Shimin also treated Princess Pingyang Zhao’s former subordinates generously, such as the Chai family servant Ma Sanbao.

When Li Yuan rose in rebellion against the Sui, Chai Shao and Princess Pingyang Zhao acted separately. Chai Shao went alone to Taiyuan, while Princess Pingyang Zhao raised troops. Ma Sanbao served at her side and was one of her confidants.

In the first year of Zhenguan, Ma Sanbao—born a household slave—was promoted by Li Shimin to the rank of Duke. When he died in the third year of Zhenguan, he was given the posthumous title “Zhong” (Loyal).

There was also Princess Pingyang Zhao’s husband, Chai Shao, who ranked fourteenth among the Twenty-Four Meritorious Officials of Lingyan Pavilion, ahead of Cheng Yaojin, Hou Junji, and Li Ji.

Chai Shao had military achievements in defeating Tuyuhun and the Turks and in suppressing rebellions, but compared to the other generals in Lingyan Pavilion, he was clearly less outstanding. That he ranked so high is widely acknowledged by later generations as being due to “connections.”

As for why Princess Pingyang Zhao herself was not directly rewarded, and why her military achievements were not publicly praised—this was simply a limitation of the feudal era.

In the feudal era, rewards granted to women were basically bestowed only upon their male relatives. Li Shimin’s above-and-beyond generous treatment of Princess Pingyang Zhao’s husband, son, and close retainers was, in effect, generous treatment of Princess Pingyang Zhao herself.

In truth, although women’s status in the Tang dynasty was higher than in the Song and later periods, it wasn’t high by much. In the early Tang, women were required to wear mìlí—a veil covering the entire body—when going out. By the reign of Emperor Gaozong Li Zhi, because it became fashionable among common women to wear wéimào that only covered the neck, an imperial edict was even issued specifically to reprimand this trend.

Therefore, Princess Pingyang Zhao’s openly appearing in public to recruit troops and raise an army as a female general was, at the time, extremely unconventional and rebellious against norms.

From the early Tang onward, from Li Yuan to the mainstream scholar-official class, there was a concerted effort to erase Princess Pingyang Zhao’s deeds as a female general.

After just founding the Tang dynasty, Li Yuan had Wen Daye write Records of the Daily Life of the Great Tang’s Founding, a work praising his achievements. In that book, all of Princess Pingyang Zhao’s deeds were completely wiped away, turning everything into Li Yuan’s far-sightedness and unparalleled wisdom and valor—even her military merit in participating in the capture of Chang’an was redistributed to his sons and trusted followers.

In Li Yuan’s own issued edict, The Proclamation of Commendation and Enfeoffment for the Pacification of Qi and Other Regions, not a single word mentioned Princess Pingyang Zhao.

That Li Yuan granted Princess Pingyang Zhao a posthumous title and buried her with the ceremonial honors of drums and banners was already an extra reward.

Before the Old Book of Tang came into circulation, Princess Pingyang Zhao’s brilliance was extremely dim.

Against such a social backdrop, Yuchi Yiseng painted a portrait of Princess Pingyang Zhao as a general, mounted on horseback, wearing armor and bearing a quiver.

This painting was created during the Zhenguan era, when Yuchi Yiseng served as a palace guard under Li Shimin. That he was able to obtain permission to paint the princess’s portrait, and even find people who still remembered her years of campaigning to provide material, speaks volumes—no need to elaborate further.

Li Shimin, too, was only right to cherish the memory of this female general and to treat her husband and descendants generously.

Because according to the faint traces left in historical records, Princess Pingyang Zhao’s troops were handed over to Li Shimin and later all became his most loyal followers.

These people became utterly devoted the moment they came under Li Shimin’s command. It surely couldn’t be because Li Shimin himself came with some innate charm that made people immediately bow their heads in submission.

Perhaps it was as later generations evaluated her: Princess Pingyang Zhao “truly surpassed her brothers.”

Li Xuanba believed that even if Princess Pingyang Zhao had been stripped of her military command, the generals who had once served under her would still give her some respect. While she lived in Chang’an, both Li Yuan and Li Jiancheng should have held up this princess-general—one without threat but with great prestige.

That was why he rushed early to cling to her figurative thigh, hoping that when the Tang dynasty was established and his second brother Li Shimin was away fighting wars and couldn’t protect him, if he didn’t win Li Yuan’s and Li Jiancheng’s favor, at least someone would still shield him.

If pushed to desperation, he could shamelessly move into his elder sister’s residence—maybe he could even save her life.

Although the historical records do not record his sister’s cause of death, her second son Chai Lingwu was about the same age as his wife, Princess Baling, and his birth time coincided closely with the time of her death. So her death was very likely due to difficult childbirth, or complications left behind after giving birth at an advanced age.

If he shamelessly lived in the princess’s residence, disturbing his sister and brother-in-law’s private time, perhaps Chai Lingwu would never have been born, and his sister would not have died.

A win-win!

Although Li Xuanba’s deliberate closeness backfired with Li Jiancheng, it worked extraordinarily well with his third sister.

Unmarried women stayed secluded in their chambers, and Li Yuan had not given his daughter a childhood nickname. Thus Princess Pingyang Zhao was called only “Third Lady Li” or “Third Young Lady,” both at home and outside.

Third Lady Li set out earlier than Li Xuanba and Li Shimin. By the time the two brothers stepped down from the carriage, Third Lady Li was already waiting at the shop entrance, wearing a mìlí that covered her entire body.

“Second Brother, Third Brother!” Impulsive and energetic, Third Lady Li didn’t even wait for the carriage to stop before reaching out to pull open the door and hauling both brothers down into her arms.

Li Xuanba obediently let himself be picked up.

Li Shimin struggled with all his might. “I can walk by myself, don’t carry me!”

Li Xuanba was very well-behaved. Third Lady Li ruffled his hair and then put him down.

Li Shimin was not well-behaved, so Third Lady Li grinned mischievously and tightly locked her brother in her arms, no matter how much Li Shimin struggled—she refused to let go.

Li Shimin reached out to Li Xuanba. “A-Xuan, save me!”

Not only did Li Xuanba take a step back, he also mocked him inwardly: [Being a big sister’s toy is a younger brother’s fate. Accept it.]

Li Shimin snapped angrily, “Then why don’t you be big sister’s toy?!”

Third Lady Li laughed with a bell-like sound. “Third Brother says you’re my toy? Oh Third Brother, don’t whisper—your elder sister wants to hear you talk too.”

Li Xuanba nodded. “Okay.”

Li Shimin grew even angrier. “When I tell you to speak you won’t, but when big sister tells you to speak you immediately agree?!”

Li Xuanba nodded. “Yes.”

Li Shimin was so furious he bared his teeth and claws, trying to pounce on his younger brother—but unfortunately he was firmly restrained by Third Lady Li and could only flail his short little arms uselessly in midair.

“Ahem, Third Young Lady, shall we go into the shop first?” A young man wearing a Hu cap beside them noticed passersby frequently casting glances their way and reminded her softly.

Li Xuanba raised his head. Li Shimin turned his head.

Then the two brothers’ faces simultaneously collapsed, revealing perfectly identical, copy-pasted dead-fish eyes: ▼＿▼

The young man in the Hu cap was naturally Third Lady Li’s fiancé, Chai Shao.

Influenced by Hu customs, the upper class of the Sui dynasty allowed somewhat freer interaction between men and women. Though not yet as open as in the High Tang, it was still acceptable for an already-betrothed couple to “run into” each other and walk together for a while.

Clearly, their third sister had gone out early precisely because she had arranged this “chance encounter” with Chai Shao.

Before taking her two younger brothers to receive the shops, the two of them had probably already strolled through official gardens near the Eastern Market—perhaps they had even gone out to the suburbs for a spring outing.

After putting on dead-fish eyes, Li Xuanba respectfully cupped his hands and bowed.

Li Shimin, however, very rudely glared at Chai Shao, then actively wrapped both arms tightly around Third Lady Li’s neck, wearing a clear “Big sister is mine, get lost” attitude.

Third Lady Li smiled and patted her second brother’s little bottom. “If you don’t like seeing him, I’ll have him leave.”

Chai Shao: “???” No—please don’t! He had only just managed to coax Third Lady Li into forgiving him over what happened a few days ago!

Li Shimin snorted a few times and said in a muffled voice, “Considering that he was the first to rush out to find a physician for A-Xuan, I’ll allow him to accompany us this time. Hmph. Big sister is going to marry you anyway—after that, you’ll have plenty of time with her. Why must you insist on hogging the little time A-Xuan and I have with big sister? You’re really annoying, completely lacking in tact. What A-Xuan calls having no empathy probably refers to people like you. Don’t you have a sister who’s about to be married?!”

She tightened her arms and shot him a glare!

Hidden beneath the mìlí, Li Sanniang’s pretty little face bloomed with a smile like a flower.

After hearing the digs from his six-year-old brother-in-law, Chai Shao not only didn’t get angry, he even felt a bit more goodwill toward him.

Li Shimin’s first remark showed that he handled matters methodically and wouldn’t vent his anger on others. His second remark, meanwhile, revealed his deep sibling affection for Li Sanniang.

Chai Shao truly cared for Li Sanniang, so seeing how close her natal family’s younger brothers were to her naturally made him happy for her.

Li Xuanba sighed and smoothed things over. “Brother, Shimin and I are still young, and Elder Sister is an unmarried lady. If we run into someone who lacks sense, someone needs to stand out front and block for her. Since Brother Chai is here, it’s clearly something Mother arranged in advance.”

Li Shimin immediately puffed out his lips so much you could hang a wine flask from them. “Hmph! Mother doesn’t trust me—how annoying!”

At this time, calling someone “niang” was like calling “mom” in later generations—it had many variants. Just as later people would use cutesy forms like “mama” or “old mom,” terms like “niangniang” and “niangqin” were also coquettish forms of address. Only from the Song dynasty onward did “niangniang” become an honorific for imperial consorts and female deities.

Li Shimin clung to her as he complained coquettishly, burying his head in Li Sanniang’s shoulder and rubbing back and forth.

Not only did Li Sanniang’s smile beneath the mìlí grow ever more gentle—even Chai Shao felt a bit envious watching them.

He had originally hoped to enjoy a few more years of life as a couple with Li Sanniang before asking for children, though of course such matters didn’t bend to his wishes alone.

But seeing Li Shimin like this, he felt that having a son like Li Shimin early on might not be so bad after all.

In any case, he definitely shouldn’t be like Li Xuanba.

Chai Shao subtly sized up the Li family’s Third Young Master.

Though Li Xuanba and Li Shimin were twins, he was noticeably smaller, and with his thin, gaunt little face, he didn’t even look like a twin to Li Shimin anymore.

If his own son were as physically weak as Li Xuanba, how worrying that would be.

Oh right—what should my son be named? Which family’s daughter should he marry in the future? What about the names of my grandchildren? And if I have a daughter, I hope she’ll look like Sanniang!

Chai Shao’s thoughts began to scatter, and a dreamy smile appeared on his face.

Li Xuanba noticed Chai Shao secretly looking him over. When he returned the look, he saw that Chai Shao was wearing a very typical “lost in fantasy” kind of strange smile.

A bit… lewd.

Li Xuanba: “……” His favorability toward this brother-in-law plummeted sharply.

After laughing and fooling around for a while, Li Sanniang finally set Li Shimin down and took her two younger brothers to receive the shop that their mother had bestowed upon them.

As soon as Li Xuanba entered the shop, he had someone bring over the account books.

Then he took out a blank ledger formatted with tables, while Li Shimin accepted an abacus from the wet nurse.

Li Shimin flipped through the books, calculated, and called out numbers; Li Xuanba held a small goat-hair brush and rapidly filled the figures into the tables.

Both Chai Shao and the shop’s manager stared in astonishment.

Li Sanniang had the manager lower the door curtain, removed her mìlí, and looked on with pride as her two brothers busied themselves.

“Sanniang, they…” Chai Shao leaned closer and asked in a low voice.

Before he could finish, Li Sanniang said, “My family’s Second and Third are the cleverest. Do you think the reputation of the Li family’s twin prodigies is fake?”

“You took a ten-percent kickback on the spices purchased from this supplier.” Having finished calculating just one transaction, Li Xuanba set down his brush and calmly addressed the manager.

At the same time, Li Shimin raised his head and looked at the manager with a face full of mockery. “The ‘loyal servant’ Mother spoke of seems to look down on A-Xuan and me. Knowing we were coming today to audit the accounts, you didn’t even bother to alter the books?”

Li Sanniang pulled the manager’s deed of sale from her sleeve and waved it. “All of their indenture contracts are here—Second and Third can deal with them as they see fit.”

At this time, keeping slaves was legal, so everyone in the shop had sold themselves into servitude.

With a thud, the manager dropped to his knees. He couldn’t even make a sound to beg for mercy, only kowtowing repeatedly.

Li Xuanba sighed and said, “Forget it. I know anyone managing a shop will skim some kickbacks. Taking only ten percent—you’re considered honest.”

Li Shimin folded his arms and snorted coldly. “Only ten percent counts as honest? Then should I be thanking him?”

Li Xuanba replied, “Mother may well know about this and treats it as his hard-work fee. You understand unwritten rules, right? If you want people to work hard for you, you have to give them some sweetness.”

Li Shimin snorted again. “You usually don’t like talking—why are you so talkative today? Fine, fine. Since you say so, I won’t send him off to the authorities.”

The manager was shocked and overjoyed all at once, tears welling up as he repeatedly kowtowed in gratitude for the two young masters’ great mercy.

Li Sanniang watched the entire process, only occasionally rattling the indenture contract in her hand, never interfering as her two six-year-old brothers played off each other.

Chai Shao’s gaze changed. These two little brothers-in-law were a bit too precocious, weren’t they?

Perhaps he not only needed to be on good terms with the future Duke of Tang, Li Jiancheng, but also find a way to draw closer to these two children.

Even if the Li family’s Second and Third Young Masters couldn’t inherit the title, they would surely not be ordinary figures in the future!