Chapter 1446: The Salt Affair Preliminarily Settled

The dim winter daylight lent everything it touched a bleak quality, giving the contradictory impression of a sunless day. The gradually sharpening cold wind roamed wantonly through the empty palace structures, as if disapproving of the fragrant warm chambers, tirelessly attempting to breach the defenses of the Han palace halls through eaves and doorways.

"Another winter has arrived!" Emperor Liu stood atop the palace gate tower, boldly and relaxedly feeling the winter wind's caress, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he uttered a profound sigh.

Those familiar with Emperor Liu knew that he had again entered that inexplicable state—expressionless, his gloomy gaze tinged with complex and ineffable meaning, seeming both sorrowful and troubled, wholly immersed in his own world with an air of "keep away," and no one dared rashly disturb his melancholy, solitary atmosphere.

Beyond the palace walls, as far as the eye could see, flowed the Luo River that never ceased day or night, with three river bridges spanning it in a magnificent sight. Gazing further, one saw the boundless broad Imperial Avenue, whose roadside trees, though already showing signs of desolation, still stood straight, extending southward.

The roads had not grown quiet with the arrival of winter; carts, horses, and pedestrians never ceased, yet both man and beast seemed to maintain a posture of reverence. This was the Imperial Avenue, the broad road leading to the imperial city, to the pinnacle of the Great Han's power. Stepping onto this imperial thoroughfare was like bearing immense pressure, as if one could feel the gaze of the man standing at the summit of power.

Of course, at this very moment, Emperor Liu was indeed gazing at the scene beyond the palace walls. Compared to the Eastern Capital, Luoyang's urban layout had not undergone fundamental changes; even when renovated anew, it still carried an antique flavor. "In its twilight years" would not be an apt description—perhaps it could be called depth of heritage, the heritage of an ancient imperial capital.

"How is public sentiment in the capital these days? Any fresh news?" After a long while, Emperor Liu spoke.

For questions of this sort, Emperor Liu always addressed Zhang Dejun. And Zhang Dejun, standing in the position of an attendant with hands clasped and back bowed, upon hearing the question immediately replied with discretion: "The Kaifeng prefectural government has ordered the closure of another five government-run salt shops. It is said the remainder will also be gradually shut down, retaining only a few large salt depots for reserve regulation!"

"Zhao Kuangyi moves quickly!" Emperor Liu sighed. "How are the people's sentiments—is there still such great resentment?"

Zhang Dejun replied respectfully: "Now that salt prices have stabilized, public sentiment has already eased. The resentment has begun to dissolve, and the people's hearts are somewhat at peace!"

"You're not just trying to comfort me, are you?" Emperor Liu turned his head to look at Zhang Dejun.

Zhang Dejun said with a solemn expression and serious tone: "How would I dare deceive His Majesty? If Your Majesty has doubts, you could leave the palace and personally inspect and inquire!"

Upon hearing this, Emperor Liu withdrew his gaze and resumed his profound, inscrutable demeanor.

After deliberation by the Finance Commission, a supplementary set of measures was finally produced to address the salt price increases brought about by the salt system reform, so as to resolve the increasingly surging public outcry.

Under the leadership of Crown Prince Liu Yang, with the assistance of Chief Ministers Wang Qiwu and Shen Yilun, the new salt price management measures were implemented. The Western Capital remained the most rapid and timely responder to court policies.

The measures promulgated by the Finance Commission had two main points.

First, the Salt and Iron Bureau would set a price ceiling for salt, using administrative orders to restrain its frenzied, disorderly rise. This was an officially guided price, taking into account many factors—such as salt production volume, road distances, transportation difficulty, and regional economic levels—while also satisfying the profit margins of both the court's fiscal revenue and circulating merchants, keeping salt prices at a relatively balanced level.

Barring special circumstances, this price was to be set once every three years, primarily divided by circuit-level administrative divisions, with each circuit having one price ceiling. This was not entirely reasonable, for even within a single circuit, regional differences were considerable, but at least under circuit-level administration, a unified price ceiling was controlled. Originally, there had been consideration of even finer control, but the practical conditions simply did not permit it.

Second, attention was turned to the salt itself—continuing to improve salt production technology while maintaining output, while simultaneously strengthening the construction of salt warehouses in various regions to maintain certain reserve stocks for regulatory purposes.

Centered on these two concepts, the Finance Commission issued measures quickly. Taking the Western Capital as an example, the salt price in the capital circuit was capped at 45 wen per dou, while at the same time, the price of salt from court-run salt fields and salt mines was lowered to 20–25 wen.

Previously, there had been an additional markup of 5 wen. When even salt merchants had to pay such high prices to obtain salt from the salt fields, one could imagine what the situation was like reflected in the actual retail salt price.

At the same time, the Western Capital government released one hundred thousand shi of salt from official granaries at once into the market, and the price immediately plummeted.

In truth, given the Western Capital's volume of goods throughput, it absolutely did not lack salt. It was merely profit-driven—after a bout of irrational growth, various forces up and down the profit chain had also been maneuvering within it, jointly catalyzing the situation.

The court's previous restraint in not intervening did not mean it truly would not. When concrete and forceful policy measures were issued, it also served as a warning to all interested parties, who then calmed down and began operating under the court's guiding directives. Those who did not calm down, who were blinded by profit, found the gates of prison open for them.

After this round of rectification, at least Luoyang's salt price had genuinely stabilized—fixed at 45 wen per dou for the short to medium term.

The people's hearts also settled from their agitation. Though prices had not fallen much from before, at least the trend of continued increase had been checked.

Previously, the panic and public anger had been caused by prices rising too quickly, too frantically, with no end in sight. The common people were mostly ignorant, and they tended to harbor a certain fear of the unknown.

Moreover, the older generation had experienced the truly terrifying salt prices of the state's founding years. One should know that in the early years of the founding, a dou of salt in the capital cost around two hundred wen, and in severe times it even approached three hundred.

At that time, the state had just been established, the economy was stagnant, material supplies were severely lacking, and salt supply was no exception. On top of that, the currency system was in chaos, flooded with assorted and debased coins. Furthermore, to keep the court running, it could not forgo the great profit of the salt tax.

In those days, the people's lives were truly mired in misery, subjected to greedy and cruel exploitation. Even after Emperor Liu's stern rectification rebuilt the economic order, the exorbitant salt prices persisted for several more years—though not as insane as two or three hundred wen, they were still incomparable to the later cheap prices.

It was not until the court conquered Huainan, seizing the salt fields north of the Yangtze from the Southern Tang, coupled with the construction of salt fields along the eastern coast and the restoration and development of the Hedong salt ponds, that salt production increased and the people of the Great Han truly enjoyed reasonably priced salt.

And as the state moved toward unification, with the economy achieving substantial and stable development, salt production experienced explosive growth. At Emperor Liu's direction, the Great Han maintained extremely low prices for over a decade. This was, in itself, a result of administrative intervention, benefiting the people.

This salt system reform, though it created some problems, was in the eyes of certain Finance Commission officials a process of returning to normalcy.

In the past, the court maintained a low salt price, and the accumulated costs of production, transportation, and retail meant the court was operating at a near loss, while inevitably exploiting and oppressing salt workers and salt folk in various regions.

A source that had always been a bountiful tax revenue for the court had one day ceased to generate income for it. Though it benefited the people of the entire realm, this situation was inherently abnormal—especially for an empire like the Great Han. This also made the Salt and Iron Commissioner under the Finance Commission somewhat of a misnomer.

Previously, some had even cited the Tang dynasty's salt tax as "half the profit of the realm," using this as an example to express dissatisfaction with the current court's salt system.

Though the two were not truly comparable, they did reflect certain problems. Therefore, the salt system reform was not merely a money-grabbing measure of draining the pond to catch the fish because the treasury was empty. Even without so many interested parties, there were still many who wished to push for reform.

At present, the Great Han's salt fields and salt mines across the realm produced approximately seven million shi of salt annually. Even calculated at the increased salt price, the court's revenue from the salt tax was still less than two million strings of cash. This was certainly no small sum, but compared to the court's overall finances, it amounted to little.

At the same time, according to the Great Han's two-tax collection law, when salt tax, commercial tax, and other revenues were more abundant, the tax burden on land production could naturally be more lenient, likewise allowing benefits to be passed on to the people.

Of course, this was merely an ideal state. The court's finances faced difficulties, with various expenditures continuously increasing. Not raising taxes was already a benevolent and virtuous policy; reducing taxes, especially cutting into the main taxes, would be very difficult as well.