Chapter 1742: The Farmers' Hardship

In early summer, Kaifeng welcomed its finest season—all things lush and thriving, the very air seeming filled with the breath of hope. For the people of the Eastern Capital, what brought particular joy was that the grain prices, which had been climbing for months, had finally begun to ease.

Since the start of last winter, grain prices in the Eastern Capital had been gradually rising, for two reasons: the Yulin rebellion on one hand, with vast quantities of grain devoured by the black hole of the northwestern war. Of course, the primary cause lay in last year's abnormal climate—widespread frost leading to a nationwide poor harvest.

Grain prices in the Great Han had always been stable; controls in this regard were strict, and prices had consistently remained at a low level. Since the first year of Kaibao, over more than twenty years, the price of a dou of rice in the Eastern Capital had risen only five wen.

Even in late autumn of last year, a dou of rice cost only eighteen wen—under twenty. The rise in grain prices had not even kept pace with the inflation of copper coinage. It was precisely this low grain price that had made possible the prosperity of the two capitals; otherwise, so many mouths could never have been fed.

There is a simple truth that many people know: grain prices are not better for being lower. The lower the grain price, the lower the farmer's income, the harder his life, and the lower his enthusiasm for production and labor.

And the Great Han's maintenance of low grain prices for over twenty years was naturally built upon the exploitation of farmers. It was almost beyond doubt that the great development of commercialization and urbanization over the past two decades—the prosperity of the two capitals and every city under heaven—had been achieved by bleeding the countryside dry.

It was already the twenty-second year of Kaibao, and the Great Han had been at peace for so many years; for the circuits and prefectures of the north, the base of the Liu-Han regime, the time was even longer. Yet prolonged peace, besides bringing stability, also meant the accumulation of various problems and contradictions.

In the past, the endless foreign wars, the exorbitant military expenditures, the enormous administrative costs brought by territorial expansion, land annexation, the dominance of meritorious aristocrats—including the northwestern rebellion not yet fully quelled—these were all problems that had gradually surfaced after the Great Han entered its "Kaibao Golden Age," and all were matters that Emperor Liu and the chief ministers at the center had perceived, adjusting according to the times and circumstances.

Among them, some were alleviated, some improved; though they could never achieve a fundamental cure, they were at least held in check, allowing the Kaibao Golden Age to continue to this day.

As for the peasant problem, it had always been suppressed in the past. The court had always advocated agriculture as the foundation, its fundamental purpose being to maintain stability in the countryside, guarantee agricultural output, and ensure the supply of tax revenue and matériel.

From the first year of Kaibao onward, the court had implemented some policies benefiting the people—for instance, gradually reducing the poll tax, and by the fifteenth year of Kaibao, essentially abolishing it altogether. This could be counted as removing one yoke from the heads of the Great Han's common folk.

However, other bonds had never been loosened. Especially for farmers, although the court had adjusted the two-tax system multiple times, with increases and decreases, overall the magnitude was not large. It was merely that compared to wartime taxation, there was a noticeable difference.

Yet the Great Han had been completely free of war for over twenty years now—some circuits and prefectures even longer. Second- and third-generation commoners had grown to adulthood; they had never experienced the hardships of wartime and could hardly empathize with them. Naturally, they found it difficult to be content with the current social environment and living conditions.

The farmers of the Great Han had always been law-abiding, but they knew well enough how their days went. And the fact was that over the past twenty years, they had not lived easily—indeed, they had grown increasingly impoverished.

The summer and autumn two-tax alone was an extremely heavy burden. Especially after the court fully established that taxes be collected in silver and copper coin, the squeezing of the countryside became ever more naked and unvarnished.

Grain itself was maintained at a low price, yet the tax quotas set by the court each year kept rising. To pay their taxes, the farmers of the Great Han were forced to sell their hard-won grain and livestock at bargain prices, converting them into copper coin to meet their obligations.

In this process, it was almost inevitable that official merchants would take their cut as well. Emperor Liu had perceived this problem long ago and had repeatedly dispatched censors to investigate and punish severely—yet no matter how harsh the measures or how complete the laws, they could never eradicate greedy human hearts.

At the same time, copper coin was steadily depreciating while grain prices could hardly be lifted. The farmer's annual income from tilling naturally kept falling, while the cost of living kept rising. How could life possibly be good under such circumstances?

It was only because the court remained highly vigilant on land annexation—using steep land transaction taxes to restrict land sales, and punishing with harsh laws those officials and merchants who overstepped the bounds—that the process of land annexation in the Great Han was somewhat checked, leaving ordinary farmers some room to till.

But this was merely containment; the fundamental problem was not solved. Land transactions were still permitted, and given the age-old enthusiasm of the Great Han's people for land, even at a higher cost, so long as one had the opportunity and the capital, one would still be eager to buy land and accumulate estates.

In the past decade, across the Great Han, the number of land transactions had visibly increased—among the buyers were nobles, bureaucrats, and merchants alike. This was no different in essence from the land annexation that had occurred in every dynasty before.

Previously, large numbers of Han commoners had gone down to the South Seas to seek their fortunes. The fundamental reason was that those people had no land and no property—or had lost their land and property—and for the sake of survival, they had no choice but to gamble their lives on adventure. Otherwise, with the death rate at sea so high, even if the profits were alluring, it would have been hard to form a tide of emigration on such a scale.

As for the farmers' difficulties, the court was not unaware, nor was it blind to them, nor did it entirely adopt an attitude of turning a blind eye.

At least in years of good harvest, it would use fiscal funds to purchase grain from the people at prices slightly above market rates, for storage in the official granaries. But overall, this portion was not very large—and in essence, this method was still reaping the leeks, for the court had far too much cheap copper coin in hand, while grain and matériel were the real, tangible goods.

On the other hand, in years of disaster, it would implement tax reductions and relief for the people of affected prefectures and counties.

Yet neither of the above two points could change the essential hardship of the Great Han's farmers. In light of this, both Emperor Liu and the Hall of State Affairs had come to realize that the peasant and agricultural problem had reached a point where change was unavoidable—otherwise, if allowed to ferment, when the contradictions erupted, unrest would inevitably follow.

This was the pattern of the rise and fall of dynasties throughout history. Even if the court's strength meant it would not be easily toppled, such a situation would still shake the foundations of rule and had to be strenuously avoided.

In fact, as early as before Zhao Pu stepped down from office, he had already been planning to change agricultural policy, to yield benefits to the farmers and stabilize the Great Han's most numerous group—the peasants.

Of course, tax reduction was not something to be implemented lightly, especially since agricultural tax remained the largest share of the court's revenue. But grain prices, however, were a good point of entry.

Last year's poor harvest and the Yulin rebellion had affected the grain supply of the two capitals, causing prices to climb continuously. By the second month of the twenty-second year, grain in the Eastern Capital had already risen to forty wen per dou of rice; by the end of the third month, it reached sixty—more than triple what it had been before.

And the grain prices of the two capitals had always been the weathervane for the whole realm. Even if the response was slow, grain prices across the nation followed suit, and then the effect spread to the entire agricultural product market.

In the past, when grain prices became unstable, the court would often take measures to balance them. But this time, it did not act rashly; instead, it held back and let the market adjust on its own. Even when phenomena of hoarding and profiteering—even making money off the nation's misfortune—appeared, it did not crack down immediately.

Take the price of rice: with the reserves the court had accumulated over many years, setting aside a portion to stabilize prices would have posed no problem at all. But on the advice of Zhao Kuangyi and Shen Yilun, the court chose a policy of wait-and-see.

This, of course, was hard on the people of the two capitals and the urban populace—but for the farmers, it was like sweet rain falling from heaven. Grain prices had risen, they could sell for more money, and their circumstances could naturally be alleviated.

Of course, grain prices too low would not do, but too high would clearly also cause problems. And tripling in the space of half a year was abnormal—it could not possibly be healthy. Therefore, when it became evident that grain prices in the Eastern Capital remained stubbornly high, the people's livelihoods were under strain, the destitute could barely carry on, and complaints filled the city, the court finally stepped in to stabilize grain prices.