Chapter 1763: New Problems

Time slipped by silently, and before anyone realized it, the Mid-Autumn Festival of the twenty-second year of Kaibao was already approaching. Another festive season had come, and throughout the Eastern Capital, lanterns and colored ribbons hung everywhere, the entire city radiating an atmosphere of joy.

After the storm came calm. With the suppression of the northwestern rebellion, the Great Han seemed to have weathered a tribulation, gradually settling back into stability, and daily life resumed as usual. But only those who lived through it understood that compared to the past, the livelihoods of the common people had already undergone profound changes.

The most obvious change was naturally the gradually rising prices. The earlier grain price crisis, though brought under control by the court's crackdown, still fluctuated from time to time, hovering around thirty wen per dou.

In order to leave room for adjustment, the court did not, as in the past, fix grain prices or set a rigid guidance price. This meant that over the past several months, the authorities had released grain to the market several times to suppress and stabilize grain prices.

Raising grain prices to benefit farmers was a policy the court had to implement in order to ease agricultural tensions, dispel farmers' grievances, and encourage production. However, if urban grain prices rose too sharply and spiraled out of control, that was not something the court wished to see either.

Thus, the court devoted considerable thought to controlling that balance. Over the past half year and more, it had kept a constant watch, intervening immediately the moment things went too far.

It was only because the court had accumulated substantial reserves over the years, with ample resources at its disposal, that it managed to ensure a period of smooth transition. Yet for the scholars and commoners of the Eastern Capital, the rise in the cost of living was unmistakable.

And what had risen was not just grain — salt, tea, sugar, wine, vinegar, soy sauce, meat, vegetables, and a whole range of daily necessities had all gone up along with it. The result was that urban residents began to find life difficult, and in a capital like the Eastern Capital, people truly came to understand what it meant to "live in a great city is no easy matter."

Of course, as the imperial capital, the Eastern Capital still had to maintain a basic level of dignity — society had to be stable, the market prosperous. At the same time, the abundant supply of various resources created economies of scale; prices had risen somewhat, but compared to the earlier days when a dou of rice cost fifty or sixty wen, it was not yet so hard to accept.

Moreover, the standard of living in the capital was inherently higher, with more opportunities and greater earning potential, which maintained a basic balance. But cities outside the capital were a different story altogether.

Rice in the Eastern Capital and Luoyang cost thirty wen per dou, while in other cities it rose to thirty-five, forty, or fifty wen — and the more remote and smaller the city, the more difficult the transportation, and the poorer the local produce, the higher the price. The court was not unaware of these conditions, but achieving complete control was all but impossible.

In truth, it all came down to the past — the excessive exploitation of farmers to sustain the cities, the draining of their blood. Now, in setting things right and easing the contradictions, new problems had simply been born.

The permanent population of the Eastern Capital and its environs alone reached one million. In the past, Emperor Liu had reveled in this spectacle, but behind the prosperity lurked crisis. To support such a vast population, the daily consumption of resources was enormous, and the cost was clearly not light.

And the realm had not just one Eastern Capital — there were also Luoyang, Taiyuan, Youzhou, Daming, Jiangning, Hangzhou, Chengdu, and other cities large and small, and these places were no different in essence from the Eastern Capital.

The cities of the Great Han were, when all was said and done, consumer cities. To supply these cities, what was drawn upon was naturally the blood and sweat of farmers across the realm. Without strong productive capacity as a guarantee, without ample material supply, all prosperity was merely an illusion.

Over the past several decades, in the process of the realm moving from division to unification, society had undergone dramatic transformation — commerce grew increasingly prosperous, and urban handicraft industry reached unprecedented heights. But this, too, had to be built upon abundant material production.

Developing productive forces and increasing material supply was the most fundamental task. Yet it was precisely on this fundamental issue that a crisis had emerged. No matter how prosperous commerce was, the Great Han remained in essence an agricultural nation — over nine-tenths of the people across the realm were farmers. If agriculture was unstable, how could the empire stand secure?

From the Emperor down to the bureaucrats, they often saw only the prosperity of the cities while always overlooking the poverty of the farmers, and they had grown accustomed to taking from them — though "exploiting" would be the more fitting word.

And in these past years, the reason urban scholars and commoners had been able to live so comfortably was built upon the foundation of the court racking its brains to provide ample supplies of low-priced goods.

Earlier, the court had steeled its resolve to push prices upward precisely because it had finally recognized the problem and felt the pressure of supporting so many urban residents. Through this method, it bestowed favor upon the farmers, alleviated the currency devaluation problems caused by the massive minting of copper coins in the past, and there was also a notion of driving people out of the cities hidden within.

For the vast majority of commoners scraping out a living in the towns, with the cost of living rising and livelihoods growing difficult, if they could no longer stay, returning to the countryside became one way out.

With the court's strenuous efforts, the grand price adjustment campaign had basically succeeded. But the time was still short, and the concrete results remained to be tested.

However, some problems had already surfaced. As things stood, the goal of driving people out had not been achieved. Taking the Eastern Capital as an example, the rising cost of living had brought livelihood difficulties to the vast majority of its residents, yet those who fled the capital because of it were few indeed.

For those who had lived in cities for a long time, getting them to return to their villages and scratch a living from the soil was clearly no easy matter. And regardless of anything else, the fact that cities offered more opportunities and greater earnings was an indisputable truth.

As for the rise in prices, it merely meant a decline in living standards, while the prosperity of the cities was something the rural countryside could not compare with. This gap was enough to make many people endure poverty in the cities.

And the endurance of the Great Han's people had always been astonishing — not just the farmers, but also the scholars, merchants, and artisans in the cities.

But the pressure of life inevitably bred problems. Over the past several months, public security in cities across the realm had noticeably deteriorated, criminal activity had markedly increased, and even the Eastern Capital had seen repeated serious incidents. The constables and administrative assistants of the Kaifeng government were all plunged into a flurry of busy work.

At the same time, the problem of the poor neighborhoods that Crown Prince Liu Yang had noticed during his earlier inspection had not only failed to improve but had actually worsened. Governor of Kaifeng Liu Jichang had expended considerable effort to rectify the situation, but the results were extremely meager, and with the frequent security incidents, his attention had been diverted as well.

Over the past several months, the Kaifeng government had faced increasing impeachments and censure, and Liu Jichang had at one point been under tremendous pressure. Fortunately, the "New Policy for Benefiting Farmers" of the Kaifeng government, which he had initiated and implemented, had finally been rolled out.

This aligned perfectly with the "three rural issues" that the court was currently focusing on. With funds allocated by the Kaifeng government, supplemented by generous donations from the "notables and worthies" of the Eastern Capital, nearly three million strings of cash had been raised in total. These funds were used to subsidize the farmers and agriculture of the counties under Kaifeng's jurisdiction, while also building roads, digging canals, laying bridges, and constructing reservoirs — which also temporarily diverted a portion of the urban labor force.

With this achievement as a foundation, the number of people in the court backing Liu Jichang grew. From the Crown Prince to the grandees of the Hall of State Affairs, all were quite satisfied with the Kaifeng government's performance. Combined with Liu Jichang's status, his position as Governor of Kaifeng remained fairly secure.

The chief administrator of the foremost region had never been an easy post, but Liu Jichang felt that his tenure as Governor of Kaifeng was the most difficult of any predecessor, with the most problems encountered. The contradictions accumulated over decades of development seemed to be erupting gradually during his term of office.

In all matters, one should be wary of going too far in correcting, but in the handling of actual affairs, going too far was often the norm — because only by going too far could the results be conspicuous. After the court began to emphasize agricultural production, care about farmers' issues, and shift its governing focus toward developing agricultural production and easing the contradiction between urban supply and farmers' needs, a voice inevitably rose again within the court.

Quite a few officials submitted memorials one after another, hoping the court would suppress commerce and trade and return to the "correct path" of "emphasizing agriculture and suppressing commerce." For such behavior — cutting off one's nose to spite one's face, trying to turn back the wheel of history — the central government naturally had to suppress it.

The principle that no commerce means no vitality had been fully verified over the past several decades, and the substantial revenue from commercial taxes was enough to strengthen the resolve of the powerful ministers at court.

Emphasizing agriculture was fundamental, but promoting commerce was also necessary — this was a basic national policy. Yet the discordant voices from within and without, the unfavorable situations arising from all sides, kept the court in constant turmoil.

To this end, in the seventh month, Prince of Zhao Liu Fang returned to court with the generals who had distinguished themselves in suppressing the rebellion, to present a summary of the Yulin pacification campaign. After the conclusions were drawn, Crown Prince Liu Yang convened the assembled ministers for a great debate on the issues of agriculture and commerce, in order to unify thinking and reaffirm the basic national policy of giving equal weight to both agriculture and commerce.

Governing a state was always like this — contradictions without end, problems springing up everywhere, often like pressing down the gourd only to have the ladle float up. For a vast empire, the problems were even more numerous. But no matter what, the overall situation remained under control, and the empire's fundamental rule remained stable.