Chapter Forty-Six: The Battle of Talas

They waited until the group of foreign merchants had eaten and drunk their fill and departed, having even been spared the cost of the meal. Only then did Zhen Qian and Song Yi slip quietly to the back of the shop to discuss the matter.

Song Yi was aware that Zhen Qian had been in the adjacent private room earlier, and since he had not intervened, it was clear he agreed to the business. Now, it was only right to ask for Zhen Qian’s opinion.

“Zhen, the foreign merchants just bought one hundred and forty-two sheng of distilled spirits, but the warehouse holds less than one hundred. Can we gather the remaining forty or so sheng in seven days?”

“Don’t worry! Since I didn’t object at the time, it means this deal can be done. In a few days, I’ll have the rest of the spirits delivered to you,” Zhen Qian replied without hesitation.

Song Yi didn’t know how these spirits were made; if he had to brew them himself, forty sheng in seven days might truly be impossible. Wang Qun had already signed contracts with several small taverns, supplying one hundred sheng of turbid spirits per month. Processing forty sheng into distilled spirits in seven days was tight but not impossible.

Originally, some purchased turbid spirits were sold directly. Even if distilled spirits couldn’t be sold after processing, they could be stored; the longer they aged, the more fragrant they became, and there was no worry about spoilage.

But buying too much and selling too little would tie up a large sum of money, a fatal mistake intolerable for Zhen Qian at this stage.

To sell over one hundred and forty sheng in one go—the price alone made Song Yi dizzy. Realizing this deal was through his own hands, and on the very first day of the new shop’s opening, he could barely contain his joy. “Once we ship this first batch, all the tavern’s debts will be paid off!”

Hearing this, Zhen Qian’s expression shifted subtly. The tavern’s construction had cost over fifty guan, and furnishings another twenty, most of it owed to merchants. Zhen Qian felt nothing amiss, but Song Yi was restless, unable to sleep for worry, constantly fretting about plugging this huge hole. Hearing Song Yi speak, Zhen Qian felt as if he were the arch-villain of the Tang Dynasty.

Zhen Qian patted Song Yi’s shoulder with a sage’s air. “Don’t worry! This is no great sum. If we’re aiming to build the finest tavern in Zhen Ding, we must look further ahead. If a mere few dozen guan worry you so, what will you do when thousands pass through your hands? Will you live forever in fear?”

A hundred and forty sheng of distilled spirits, after costs, meant a profit of just over a hundred guan, still far from Zhen Qian’s goal.

Song Yi sighed inwardly; Zhen Qian’s business methods were unfathomable, his ambition limitless. Whether this was fortune or disaster, who could say?

“Those foreign merchants seem to be taking our spirits north. If this opens up the northern market, wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“Song, never believe what those merchants say. If they buy our spirits, they will never reveal the origin. Don’t harbor any illusions about them.”

Song Yi understood well. “I know they won’t promote our spirits, but as long as the name spreads to the north, people will trace it back here. That’s unstoppable.”

Zhen Qian immediately caught Song Yi’s meaning: the merchants’ routes were fixed. Anyone determined could follow the trail and discover the spirits from Zhen Ding. No wonder Song Yi agreed so readily to their low price—there was calculation beneath it.

“I won’t worry about this. In a few days, our own distillery will open, with monthly production reaching over a hundred sheng. When people come to buy, try to sign long-term, stable contracts; only then can we expand.”

Buying turbid spirits for distillation yielded a thirty percent profit for the Zhen family, but spirits sales were fixed within a certain volume. To expand production, the scope must widen, and relying on just a handful of people was impossible; only traveling merchants could help. Zhen Qian had only thought of this upon seeing the foreign merchants, and would need to discuss it with Wang Qun later.

Zhen Qian did not rush to leave the Drunken Immortal Tavern. On opening day, the owner’s absence would be irresponsible toward Song Yi. Besides, Zhen Qian wished to observe the Tang people’s mindset, the myriad joys and sorrows of city life.

He had been in Tang for nearly three months; he had fallen from a horse and lost his memory in mid-February, and now it was early summer. As temperatures rose, sales of spicy spirits would surely decline; Zhen Qian did not want his first fortune to stall.

For a long time, Zhen Qian had stayed out of sight. Being low-key had its merits, but too much would lead to stagnation. He didn’t want that.

The three returned to an empty seat on the first floor. It was past noon, the tavern somewhat deserted; those seeking news had left, and what reaction would follow was unknown.

A few military men still lingered, clearly drunk, their speech slurred and voices rising. “Captain Qin, you’re taking up a post in Yi Prefecture. I heard you were treated unfairly—what happened? Tell your brothers.”

The man called Captain Qin took a swig of wine. “Humiliating! Damn humiliating…” He slammed his cup down, his eyes blazing with anger. “What is my grievance compared to General Gao’s? General Gao fought bitterly for five days at Talas. When the enemy reinforcements arrived, the fickle Karluk tribe revolted, causing our defeat. Yet some at court blamed General Gao for attacking the Stone Kingdom, claiming the enemy only came because he failed to appease them. But the enemy had always intended to march east, secretly colluding with Western states. If not for General Gao’s stand at Talas, showing our military might, they wouldn’t have stopped west of the Pamirs. Yet those shortsighted courtiers forced the blame onto General Gao. Luckily, the emperor was wise, recalled General Gao to the capital, granted him high rank, and made him Right General of the Imperial Guard, quelling the impeachment. We’ve been scattered—some dismissed, others reassigned. Li Siye was made governor of Huai Prefecture; Duan Xiushi, commander at Suide. We who fought and bled have all been moved from Anxi; who knows when we’ll gather under General Gao again!”

Listening to Captain Qin’s laments, Zhen Qian frowned. He had read about the Battle of Talas in the official reports—an event that, in later times, was said to have changed the fate of Tang. This defeat ended Tang’s westward expansion.

The Battle of Talas was one of the few major Tang military actions Zhen Qian knew well, much commented upon by later historians. Regardless of rights and wrongs, the defeat dealt a heavy blow to the court. The Western states became fence-sitters, offering tribute to Tang while secretly colluding with the enemy. Unexpectedly, the outcome was that the Western states became a buffer zone between two great powers, and neither expanded further; instead, envoys traveled between them.

After Talas, Tang’s influence in the West was not shaken; the frontier troops quickly recovered, and under Feng Changqing, expansion continued until the outbreak of the An Lushan Rebellion.

Some said that Tang’s ultimate withdrawal from Central Asia was not due to the defeat at Talas, but to the An Lushan Rebellion. Even had Tang won at Talas, the rebellion would have forced retreat.

Zhen Qian only half agreed. Tang’s territory was vast, but under autocracy, its prosperity was fleeting and unsustainable. The long-term loss of Anxi showed the limits of control—unavoidable, unlike the enemy’s expansion, which had feudal lords and kingdoms. In an age of slow communication, the size of a nation’s territory was dictated by such factors.

Moreover, the defeat at Talas was inevitable. Gao Xianzhi’s slaughter of the Stone Kingdom was not condemned by the court, reflecting Tang’s attitude toward the Western states. Yet with so few Han and so many foreigners, such actions were unwise. The Western states were numerous; Tang’s military might could maintain order for a time, but not forever. Defeat was bound to come.

Finally, the court’s attitude toward foreigners and the sudden rebellion of the Karluk tribe failed to sound the alarm, leading to the An Lushan Rebellion. Had the court paid heed to the Karluk betrayal and kept control of the powerful generals within Tang, An Lushan’s rebellion might not have occurred. Of course, this was only Zhen Qian’s opinion.

Sadly, the world is never short of hindsight critics, but lacks the cure for regret. One wonders if Emperor Xuanzong, after the An Lushan Rebellion, ever considered the causes of Talas’s defeat or cursed Li Linfu, who empowered the foreign generals.

Though Talas happened in the tenth year of Tianbao, less than a year ago, it was not Zhen Qian’s concern—only a source of sorrow.

He did not interrupt the soldiers’ criticisms of the court; venting after drinking was commonplace, but if overheard by someone with ill intent, trouble might follow. Such places were best avoided; a brush with them could spell disaster for Zhen Qian.

Zhen Qian signaled Song Yi, and, together with Qin Meng and Wang You, left the tavern. Right now, nothing was more important than making money.