Mythical Three Kingdoms

”If you have that confidence, then we won’t need to say much more. Share your thoughts if you have any ideas.” Hearing Chen Xi express confidence in controlling the Western Regions, Cao Cao became interested. The Han Dynasty had conquered the Western Regions more than once, but ultimately, they always lost it again. The reason boiled down to five words: the Heavenly Height, the Emperor far away.

”The method is simple. Build roads, station troops, and promote migration and integration. We shouldn’t resort to the outdated practice of remote governance; instead, establish direct governance. You know about exile as a punishment, right? We can turn it into something for handling individuals who have achieved great merits or committed severe offenses, and send them there.” Chen Xi said with a calm demeanor.

”That’s still not enough. In just one year of exile, how many people could be exiled? A hundred or two hundred at most, certainly not more.” Cao Cao shook his head, not very optimistic about Chen Xi’s proposal.

”Our way of exile allows people to take family, friends, servants, and slaves with them.” Chen Xi said with a hint of irony in his expression, [Considering the Empire’s current infrastructure, it won’t take long for the frontier to cease being a frontier; exile, in essence, is more of a frivolous gesture.]

”Is that still called exile?” Cao Cao raised an eyebrow and asked.

”Wouldn’t Marquis of Chiyang and Marquis of Meiyang be considered exiled?” Chen Xi looked calmly at Cao Cao, who, with furrowed brows, began to understand why Liu Bei said the most enigmatic aspect of Chen Xi was his way of thinking.

”If that’s the case, it’s not entirely wrong.” Cao Cao nodded, saying, ”However, this approach might invite criticism.”

”Then forget it, let’s use a regular method, as I mentioned earlier: station troops, relocate people locally, and send our people there.” Chen Xi spread his hands and said, ”Anyway, we have nearly fifty million people; social culture is very stable in all aspects, and we can absorb and integrate these populations quite easily.”

”Of course, if they are unwilling to move to the Central Plains, I would gladly escort them out.” Chen Xi said with a hint of light-heartedness. Honestly, he needed those defiant individuals to counter the so-called evil of the Han Dynasty with righteousness.

As for who is truly evil, it’s all perspective—one’s hero is another’s archfiend. History is inevitably written by survivors; morality and ethics require careful crafting, and at least Chen Xi doesn’t consider them as evil.

”In that scenario, people leave but the land remains, allowing us to develop it—this isn’t impossible. However, it poses governance challenges; even if they share the same language and ethnicity, there will inevitably be a need for decisive superiority.” Cao Cao seemed to agree with Chen Xi’s approach but remained concerned about the underlying risks.

”That’s why we need roads. Lord Cao knows that if a twelve-car direct road connects Chang’an to Ye City, the time spent in correspondence would be significantly reduced.” Chen Xi responded calmly.

”But building such a road to the Western Regions makes me question its worth. From Chang’an to the Western Regions, it spans over ten thousand miles. The benefits gained here in the Central Plains, compared to those from reaching the Western Regions, are of entirely different magnitude.” Cao Cao shook his head, showing little interest in Chen Xi’s suggestion.

The prosperity under Liu Bei’s rule, which even Cao Cao had to acknowledge, was partly due to the expansive prefecture roads connecting most prefecture cities. These roads effectively unified Liu Bei’s territories and greatly simplified material exchanges and troop dispatch.

Similarly, they eased governmental decrees and governance, greatly benefiting the stability of factions—something Cao Cao eyed with great interest. Unfortunately, even in Liu Bei’s realm, there were only a few places equipped with cement factories.

Liu Bei wasn’t unwilling to sell cement. Even as strategic material, Chen Xi sometimes whimsically sold it, but the cement Cao Cao obtained only allowed him to pave roads from Chang’an to Nanyang and to Henei, two strategic points.

Elsewhere, the amount of cement Cao Cao could acquire was limited, unable to upgrade roads to national or prefecture road standards. The roads in Chen Xi’s view, accommodating four lanes, only reached county road standards. Nonetheless, Cao Cao clearly felt the convenience of roads, but he still had no means to pave more.

While Xun Yu later contemplated using the First Emperor’s straight roads approach to pave roads elsewhere, those roads were too challenging and costly to construct flattening and resistant against water damage, costing more than buying cement from Chen Xi.

Of course, the People of Qin’s formidable construction capabilities meant that adhering to the Qin Dynasty’s highest standards justified its longevity.

Back then, the Three Bridges of Weir River built in Qin Dynasty, used from Qin to Han without damage, were only vandalized by Dong Zhuo—otherwise, when these bridges would have had issues remains uncertain.

Dong Zhuo merely damaged the bridge surface but didn’t harm the foundations, allowing Cao Cao to repair and reuse them upon arrival in Chang’an. Subsequent dynasties repaired bridge surfaces till the Five Dynasties period after seven hundred years of Late Han, the bridge truly fell.

Therefore, genuinely constructing according to Qin State’s legal standards, using standard wood and stone structures, and maintaining it as required, promises a thousand years of longevity...

Yet, that was mere bluster; the Qin Dynasty’s construction lacked scientific grounding. Ultimately, Xun Yu could only fortify roads under Cao Cao’s rule, knowing even the inferior cement roads from Chen Xi were far superior to dirt roads.

Thus, constructing a national-level road stretching a ten thousand miles to the Western Regions seemed less worthwhile to Cao Cao compared to improving roads under his control.

”Building domestically has many benefits, but extending it to the Western Regions leaves future generations land.” Chen Xi didn’t display particular emotion to Cao Cao’s question, instead presenting another for Cao Cao to answer.

”While that’s true, it always seems unworthy. The Thirty-Six States of the Western Regions have their abundance, and building such a road offers significant gains, yet doing so domestically delivers greater value.” Circumlocution aside, Cao Cao settled upon the issue of worthiness.

Chen Xi pressed his temples, suddenly recalling the price of his cement—likely equivalent to grain, meaning it was dozens of times more expensive than the actual cost.

In this manner, in Cao Cao’s view, laying a road from Chang’an to the Western Regions essentially amounted to a price, hundreds of times that understood by Chen Xi.

Chen Xi’s burning of this material fundamentally served as one of his primary plans for labor relief, though upon disassembling it, workers remained clueless about their task—machines absent, achieving a labor-intensive industry.

Moreover, Chen Xi played integration, touching both upstream and downstream sectors. Ultimately, the money spent returned, making Chen Xi admittedly shy about the low costs when upstream, downstream combined.

Concerning labor costs, do labor costs even count? Nationally termed as human resources, workers either saved their pay or spent it within Chen Xi’s domain. As a result, provided production value exceeded wages and surplus production value found state use, it spelled national industrial prosperity and people progressing towards a modest living standard.

As for so-called surplus production capacity, dismiss the notion and sleep well—economic crises remain dreams for countries not entering industrial revolutions.

Thus, in Chen Xi’s perspective, Cao Cao’s allegedly exorbitant costs registered short-term, but in not so distant future, they undeniably would yield profit—Chen Xi didn’t engage in loss-making endeavors.

”Ahem, Lord Xuande, could I perhaps decline?” Chen Xi turned towards Liu Bei.

”It’s one of your industrial enterprises.” Liu Bei replied calmly.

”Alright, only a few are mine; the rest remain under national Money Exchange control. Although managed by me, it’s fundamentally different.” Chen Xi casually explained.

Liu Bei shook his head, saying nothing—whether controlled or managed by Chen Xi bore significance for future generations, whereas for Liu Bei it meant little.

”What riddles are you two inferring?” Cao Cao frowned at Chen Xi and Liu Bei; these two somehow communicated complex matters with simplicity.

”Actually, to put it simply, the cost, if assessed truthfully, proves very low—to the extent of ignorable disparity, akin to how I reduced salt prices to one hundred coins per stone in Chang’an. In reality, I could further cut it to ten coins per stone and still make a small profit.” Chen Xi said, his demeanor slightly proud.

”What?” Cao Cao exclaimed, instantly comprehending Chen Xi’s point upon hearing the analogy.

”How low can you actually drive the prices?” Cao Cao took a deep breath and inquired.

”Calculated nationally, these figures can be directly nullified; discussing monetary worth though slightly exaggerated, two digits would bring profit while three digits resemble theft.” Chen Xi scratched his cheek while speaking.

Stunned, Cao Cao realized if Chen Xi were truthful, he might just cough blood—and observing Chen Xi’s expression revealed no jesting, affirming authenticity, manifesting visibly upon Cao Cao’s visage.

”Then, what might the costs for white porcelain and glass mirrors amount to?” Despite the shock, Cao Cao, ever the hero, swallowed hard and asked Chen Xi.

After a moment’s hesitation, Chen Xi raised a finger before flattening his hand, prompting Cao Cao to nearly cough a mouthful of blood; indeed, it matched prior analogy—costs plummeted beneath normal acceptance levels, accomplished through indeterminate means.

Turning to Liu Bei, Cao Cao saw Liu Bei sigh, portraying equal shock witnessed back then, silently turning his head, rendering Cao Cao speechless.