Chapter 398: The Forbidden Valley

Zhang Zhihe hurried forward, bowed deeply, and said, “Your humble servant pays respects to the Great General!”
Zhang Zhihe had arrived in Anxi the previous year and had been involved in the relocation of Han civilians. He received the highest evaluation in practical task assessments and ranked second in the official examinations at the beginning of the year. As a result, the Bureau of Officials broke with the usual practice of assigning newcomers as clerks and directly appointed him as the first magistrate of Chuhe County. He had served as magistrate for nearly half a year. Though young and lacking some experience, he had made great efforts, and his achievements were evident to all. In the evaluations conducted by the inspection commissioners, his popularity score was the highest. Whenever people talked about Magistrate Zhang of Chuhe County, everyone praised him. For this reason, Li Qing’an did not look down on him just because he was Li Mi’s nephew but instead assessed him based on his performance.
Li Qing’an returned the bow with a smile and said, “We are just passing through Chuhe County and have disturbed Magistrate Zhang.”
“By no means. It is my duty to meet the Great General when he passes through Chuhe County.”
As he spoke, Zhang Zhihe glanced at the old man Wei and the others, appearing somewhat nervous. After all, he was the magistrate, the head official of the county. He was somewhat worried about what the local people might say about him in front of the Anxi Military Governor—this was only natural. Seeing his concern, Li Qing’an patted his shoulder and said with a smile, “Your reputation is excellent. Along the way, I’ve met many people who praised you for serving the people wholeheartedly. As long as you receive the highest evaluation for three consecutive years, I will promote you to prefect, making you the youngest prefect in the Tang Dynasty. Here, seniority doesn’t matter; only your abilities do.”
Zhang Zhihe was overjoyed. He bowed deeply and said, “Thank you, Great General, for your trust. Your humble servant will do his utmost to fulfill your expectations.”
“Come, sit down and talk.”
Li Qing’an asked Zhang Zhihe to sit and said, “Tell me about the difficulties you face. Since I’m here, perhaps we can work together to find solutions.”
The old man Wei and the other farmers hurried to leave, but Li Qing’an called them back, “Everyone, stay and listen. You are practical people. Maybe you have better ideas than I do.”
Zhang Zhihe was nervous. To some extent, this was actually a test from Li Qing’an, with local people present to observe, making it even more challenging for him. After pondering for a moment, he said, “Your humble servant does have an idea that I’d like to share with the Great General for your consideration.”
“Speak!”
Zhang Zhihe glanced at the old farmer beside him and said, “Your humble servant believes that the taxes imposed on the people of Anxi are a bit too low, which is not conducive to long-term development.”

A few farmers exchanged glances. Their county magistrate actually thought the taxes were too low—how could that be? The old man Wei wanted to speak up in opposition, but seeing Li Qing’an’s serious expression, he had to swallow his words.

Li Qing’an hadn’t expected him to think the taxes were too low either, so he asked curiously, “Explain why.”

“General, although Anxi is rich in gold and silver, and food can be obtained from other places, there’s no need for the people to pay taxes. But as a result, without pressure, people gradually become lazy, especially farmers. Since the taxes are low and food is cheap, they don’t need to work as hard. They can go to the city to do odd jobs, which pay well enough to buy some food to pay the taxes. It doesn’t matter how much grain can be harvested from the fields—what could have been 500 pounds per mu ends up at only 300 pounds. Over time, not only does the soil’s fertility decline, but people also become lazy. As the saying goes, ‘In times of peace, think of danger.’ But now, people think only of laziness. General, I believe this may seem trivial, but if not controlled early, it will eventually lead to serious problems.”

Li Qing’an fell into deep thought. Then, the old man Wei finally couldn’t hold back and said, “General, I too have something to say.”

“Speak then!”

The old man Wei first bowed to Zhang Zhihe before saying, “County Magistrate Zhang says that low taxes make people lazy and unwilling to farm. I don’t agree. Take me for example—I was assigned 150 mu of land, and in the past two years, I’ve cultivated more than 200 mu of wasteland. Since the government allows those who cultivate land for ten years to own it, my eldest son and I have worked day and night without ever slacking off. To increase grain production, I even installed a water wheel. Yes, the taxes are low, but that’s no reason for us to be lazy. We’ve suffered enough from not having land, and since it’s ours, we want to make the most of it. There might be those like County Magistrate Zhang mentioned, but I believe they’re in the minority. The vast majority won’t become lazy.”

“Old man, you’ve got it backwards. People like you, who work hard in farming, are the minority. The majority are looking for ways to make money through shortcuts, because farming simply isn’t profitable. Who would want to waste time and effort on farming?”

Zhang Zhihe took out a ledger from his pack, flipped through a couple of pages, and said to Li Qingan, “General, I have this year’s statistics here. Last year, each household in Chuhe County cultivated about eighty mu of wasteland, but in the first ten months of this year, each household only cultivated an average of five mu—almost no new land was opened up. Why? Because most young people have gone to the cities to work or to grow tea and mulberry trees. No one is willing to grow grain anymore. If this continues, in a few years, Anxi will likely run out of its own grain.”

Li Qingan finally understood the point. On the surface, Zhang Zhihe was talking about low taxes, but in reality, he was criticizing Anxi for prioritizing industry and commerce over agriculture. At that moment, Liu Yan beside him also smiled and said, “General, although Zhang is young, he has very shrewd insights. I agree with his reasoning. If you’re willing to listen, I can tell a story.”

“You two, one speaking indirectly and the other indirectly—go on! I’m listening.”

Liu Yan smiled and slowly said, “In the past, Guan Zhong forced the people of Qi to grow grain while buying silk at high prices from neighboring countries and selling grain to them at low prices. As a result, the people of those neighboring countries saw profit in growing silk instead of grain, so they destroyed their fields to grow mulberry trees and raise silkworms, earning a fortune from Qi. Later, when Guan Zhong saw the time was right, he suddenly raised the price of the grain sold to those countries to exorbitant levels and banned the import of silk. The neighboring countries suffered from famine and had no choice but to surrender to Qi. All the money they had earned over the years returned to Qi’s treasury.”

Zhang Zhihe nodded and said, “General, that’s exactly what I mean. Right now, our grain comes from Xinde. Once we become dependent on grain from Xinde and everyone goes to work to earn money or destroys fields to grow mulberry trees, if Xinde stops sending grain in a few years, Anxi will face a grain shortage.”

Food is the foundation of the people—Li Qingan certainly understood this principle. He said, “I understand what you mean. But young people really do want to work to earn money, and the workshops that already exist are hard to close. So what do you suggest?”

Liu Yan smiled and said, “Actually, the solution is simple. Raise the price of grain in Anxi’s market or provide subsidies to grain growers so that their income from growing grain is no less than that from working in workshops. In this way, when the goods from workshops are sold to the Abbasid Caliphate or Byzantium and bring in big profits, a portion of that money can be used to subsidize grain growers. Don’t worry about having too much grain—grain is always a strategic resource. We should just build more warehouses. When the Abbasid Caliphate faces a grain shortage, we can sell them grain at high prices.”

“Wait!”

Li Qingan’s expression turned extremely shocked as he hurriedly said, “What did you just say? Say it again.”

“I mean, grain is always a strategic resource; we should just build more warehouses.”
“It’s not that sentence, it’s the next one.”
“The next one?”
Liu Yan thought for a moment and said, “When there’s a grain shortage in Persia, we can sell it to them at a high price.”
It was this sentence that sparked an idea in Li Qing’an’s mind in an instant—Persians had relied on Sindh’s grain for decades. Now that Sindh’s large granaries were under their control, would Persia face a famine?
Although the Nile Delta was also fertile, according to Pei Yu, it was mainly used for growing cotton rather than grain. The key lay in the Mesopotamian region, which had received large amounts of grain from Sindh for years. So, how many people there would still be willing to grow grain?
Realizing this, Li Qing’an suddenly understood that if Persia truly faced a grain crisis, they wouldn’t delay starting the war by half a year; perhaps the war would begin earlier.
Realizing this, Li Qing’an realized he had made an empiricist mistake, always relying on common sense to estimate Persia’s preparation time. If something special happened to Persia, like a grain crisis, they would surely launch war immediately to resolve it.
Worried, he said to Liu Yan, “It takes half a month to travel back and forth along the Chu River, which will delay important matters. I won’t go. Commissioner Liu can go in my place to inspect things; I’m entrusting everything to you.”
“Is the general returning to Suiye?”
“No! I’m going to Tuozhi City.”
……
Heading west from Suiye, passing through Ashibulai City and Julan City, one could reach the territory of the Shi State. Turning south, six days later, Li Qing’an led his troops to Tuozhi City, the capital of the Shi State.
Due to the outcome of the Battle of Talas, the status of the Shi State differed from that of the other states in Central Asia. It was a tributary state of the Tang army and had earned military merits, so it didn’t become a Tang-occupied territory like the other states in Central Asia; it retained some degree of autonomy.
The king was still Hassan, who still held administrative power over the Shi State, but he no longer had military authority. The Shi State only retained 5,000 troops for maintaining order, while the nearly 30,000 troops stationed there were under the command of the Grand Commander of Dayuan. Of these, 6,000 were stationed at Talas, 2,000 at Baishui City, and 20,000 in Tuozhi City.
The current Grand Commander of Dayuan was General Tian Zhen. The previous commander, Li Siyeh, had been transferred to Central Asia to serve as the Military Commander there during Li Qing’an’s attack on Sindh.

The grasslands around Tuozhi City are vast, producing excellent horses from Dayuan. It served as an important base for the Tang army to train new recruits. After undergoing nearly seven months of cavalry training here, the recruits would officially begin their service and be assigned to various military units, while new batches of soldiers would arrive, repeating the cycle to maintain a strength of around 20,000 men.

Li Qingan came to Tuozhi City not to inspect the recruits but to check out the weapons factory there. Tuozhi City was also one of the Tang army’s most important weapons manufacturing bases, especially for large-scale siege equipment such as scaling ladders, battering rams, war chariots, trebuchets, and crossbows—heavy weapons all produced here. This was mainly because the trees in the vicinity of Tuozhi City were exceptionally hard, suitable for making heavy weapons, and there were also many skilled craftsmen from the Shi state, providing sufficient human resources.

About twenty li outside Tuozhi City lay a secret weapons testing site, the Tang army’s gunpowder testing facility, located in a valley. It was heavily guarded, with 2,000 soldiers stationed there, preventing anyone from entering. Most people from the Shi state did not know what was being done there, not even King Hassan, who was unaware it was the Tang army’s gunpowder production site.

In the evening, escorted by hundreds of personal guards, Li Qingan arrived at Thunder Valley—a huge valley as if a mountain had been split in two. Originally, it had been the valley of the Dayuan River; after the river changed its course, it gradually dried up, forming a canyon about ten li long, five li wide at its widest point, and just over ten zhang narrow at its narrowest. The steep cliffs on both sides were covered with dense vegetation, and the valley was dry, making it suitable for storing gunpowder.

The valley had become a forbidden area. Fewer than 200 people were allowed to enter. Sulfur brought from Qianquan Mountain and nitrate brought from the Bahan nation were combined here to create the Tang dynasty’s most powerful weapon: gunpowder.

Li Qingan led twenty of his personal guards into the valley. The officer in charge of the valley had once been Li Qingan’s personal guard, named Zheng Guoliang. Back on Longju Island, he had been responsible for making firecrackers. Now, he was in charge of the entire gunpowder production process and had been promoted to colonel. He had lived here since the Battle of Talas, nearly four years ago.

“Your humble servant greets the great general!” Zheng Guoliang knelt on one knee and paid his respects to Li Qingan.

Li Qingan quickly helped him up and said with a smile, “There’s no need for such formalities. Stand up!”

“Reporting to the great general, two months ago, upon receiving your orders, I have been leading my men to speed up the production of firearms. I invite the great general to inspect them.”

Li Qingan nodded and asked as they walked, “I heard that the Thunder-Shaking Bomb has been created. Is it reliable?”

The Thunder-Shaking Bomb was essentially an iron-clad gunpowder charge, the most powerful among primitive gunpowder weapons. It was invented during the Song Dynasty, and at its most potent, it could collapse entire city walls, reducing both people and stones to dust. This was exactly what Li Qing’an had always wanted to create. He only had a general idea; everything relied on the craftsmen to experiment repeatedly. A few months ago, Zheng Guoliang wrote to report that the Thunder-Shaking Bomb had been successfully created.

But Li Qing’an was concerned about its stability. If such a powerful weapon became unstable and exploded within his army, the consequences would be unimaginable. Therefore, many times, he preferred not to use gunpowder at all rather than risk instability.

Zheng Guoliang smiled and said, “General, rest assured. We have tested it hundreds of times—it’s very stable. We’ve already made over fifty of them. Let me take you to see.”

He led Li Qing’an into a valley, where there were several white buildings. Those were the craftsmen’s dormitories and material warehouses, while the powder-making workshops were located in caves. There were more than twenty caves of various sizes on both sides of the valley, all made of granite—dry and sturdy—serving as natural workshops and storage areas for gunpowder.

Li Qing’an followed him into a huge cave, over ten zhang high and several li deep. At the entrance, there was a long row of tables, where more than a dozen craftsmen were making gunpowder arrows. Zheng Guoliang picked up one and introduced it to Li Qing’an, saying, “This arrow is originally a large arrow fired from a crossbow. A gunpowder charge is tied to it. When the gunpowder burns, it increases the impact force, allowing the arrow to fly farther. We’ve tested it, and its range can reach two li.”

Li Qing’an was very interested in these gunpowder arrows. He picked up a smaller arrow and turned around, saying, “Bring me my bow!”

His bodyguard immediately handed him his Black Dragon Bow. Li Qing’an owned more than a dozen fine bows, but this one was his battle bow, used in combat. It was also a seven-stone-hard bow, crafted over two years by the best bowmaker in Anxi. It was completely black and shiny, and extremely easy to use.

Li Qing’an strode outside the cave, loaded the gunpowder arrow onto the bow, slowly drew it back to full tension, and aimed at the end of the valley, where the testing ground was located. There was no one there for now. The arrow shaft was long enough to ensure that the gunpowder charge remained outside the bow even when fully drawn. Then, a craftsman carefully lit the fuse with a flint. The fuse burned evenly. When it reached halfway, the arrow was released, tracing an arc as it flew straight into the open distance. After about 1,500 steps, the arrow suddenly accelerated, emitting thick white smoke before disappearing. Moments later, a soldier ran back with the arrow and reported, “General, it flew 450 steps!”

This arrow actually reached 450 steps in distance, leaving Li Qingan in awe. Zheng Guoliang smiled proudly and said, “There are actually two types of gunpowder arrows. One is designed for acceleration, while the other uses a cross to secure a small gunpowder packet filled with poisoned iron nails, which are highly effective against the enemy’s warhorses. We’ve spent nearly a year developing just this type of gunpowder arrow.”
“Why?” Li Qingan was puzzled.
“It’s not the gunpowder arrow itself, but rather the gunpowder. Has the general noticed any difference between this gunpowder and that from Longju Island in the past?”
Li Qingan thought for a moment and said, “It seems to burn very evenly, as if the timing can be controlled with a fuse.”
“The general is absolutely right. We spent a year researching how to grind the gunpowder particles, then use egg white and sulfur to solidify them, followed by further grinding to achieve very uniform particle sizes. The finished particles are also polished with graphite to make them more resistant to moisture. Uniform particle sizes allow us to control the burning rate. We’ve also considered creating a fuse reel to make the gunpowder burn slowly, causing an explosion after fifteen minutes—making it even more unpredictable for the enemy.”
“Excellent! Truly excellent!”
Li Qingan praised twice before asking, “What about the Thunder Shock?”
“General, please come with me.”
Zheng Guoliang led Li Qingan deep into the cave. The light here was already dim, but even so, torches were not allowed. It was then that Li Qingan noticed there were many other caves on either side, seemingly containing something inside.
“These caves are cool and dry, making them perfect for storing gunpowder.”
He pulled out a wooden box from one of the caves, about one foot square. He lifted the lid, revealing a dark, oval-shaped object that resembled a copper hot water pot.
“General, please take a look. This is the Thunder Shock! It must be launched using a large catapult.”
Li Qingan picked up this heavy, oval-shaped iron object, about twenty pounds in weight, patted its surface, and asked curiously with a smile, “What’s its power like?”
“We built a three-zhang-high fortress using huge stones. When the Thunder Shock explodes inside, the sound can be heard ten miles away, leveling the entire fortress.”