Chapter 2155: Shizong Arc 23: Official Money, Grain, Salt

If there was any place in the empire where the current Son of Heaven, Liu Wenji, enjoyed the highest popular support, it was by no means the imperial capital region at the very core of the empire's rule, nor the nominally blood-related territories of Shanyang and Yanbei, but rather the southeastern Wu-Hui lands, especially Jiangnan Circuit.

There is no love or hate in this world without cause. That Liu Wenji could win such immense popular support in Jiangzhe had its own deep-seated reasons, and it was by no means merely because of his status as Emperor, nor his more than a decade of quiet seclusion in Jiangnan.

The fundamental reason lay in the political attitudes Liu Wenji had displayed during his time in Jiangnan — there was encouragement of and respect for Jiangnan's culture and customs, compassion for and consideration of the lower- and middle-ranking officials and common people, and recognition of and support for the development of agriculture, commerce, and handicraft industry in the southeast.

With these three things, Liu Wenji naturally won the recognition and support of the major classes of Jiangnan Circuit. Since his ascension to the throne, even though some of his actions to rectify officialdom and people's livelihoods had caused a certain amount of upheaval in the localities, that was merely the necessary pain of excising rotten flesh and scraping poison from the bone. And simply by abolishing those contributions demanded of the southeastern region during the Kangzong era, he was already enough to capture a great many hearts.

And during the comprehensive recovery and development of the empire in the "Duangong–Jianlong" period, it was also the Jiangzhe region that showed the strongest momentum. Of course, to be fair, this was merely the normal eruption of Jiangzhe's accumulated years of development, and the role played by the central government of Liu Wenji's court was only to maintain a basic "harmonious governance and popular support."

That was already sufficient, after all, in a feudal age of autocratic monarchy, to want more was itself an "excessive" luxury. And so, both in and out of court, a great wave of people were already singing the praises of the current Emperor's merits and virtues. At the same time, Liu Wenji was also the Emperor in the history of the Great Han Empire who attracted the most mixed praise and blame — the evaluations of him were so varied as to seem almost fragmented, because both inside and outside the court there was still a great wave of people who did not genuinely recognize or believe in him as Emperor.

But in Jiangzhe, when the imperial carriage descended, the reaction it stirred throughout the southeastern world was extremely enthusiastic. The powerful and the bureaucrats of Jiangzhe organized welcomes both openly and covertly, as if trying to drown the Emperor in the fervent cheers of the southeastern gentry and commoners, so as to distract his attention.

Unfortunately, Liu Wenji had always been a man of firm convictions. Though he was moved by their enthusiasm, he was not bewitched by the clamor and loose talk of Jiangnan, and during his inspection tour, business proceeded as usual. In Liu Wenji's own words, he had come on tour to inspect governance and popular sentiment, not to sightsee.

The governance of officialdom was a matter of his focused attention. He inquired especially deeply into the selection, assessment, and cultivation of officials — particularly those administrative talents who came out of Loujiang Academy. Liu Wenji delivered a special speech on this subject, and offered praise and commendation to those who had distinguished themselves.

While in Shanghai, Liu Wenji visited the Jianghai Customs General Tax Administration in person, receiving Liang Tonghai, the Customs Tax Division Chief subordinate to the Tax Superintendent, and listening to his report on the customs tax affairs of Jianghai. In this regard, Liu Wenji was a seasoned expert — back in the day, he had served a temporary posting under the Jianghai Customs Superintendent.

This Liang Tonghai was a standout among the first graduating class of Loujiang Academy. To climb from a minor clerk to Customs Tax Division Chief of Jianghai — a rank of the sixth grade — in just over a decade was already outstanding. Of course, this man had also caught the timing advantage of being in the "first class."

Besides the cultivation and selection of official talent, the problem of corruption was also an unavoidable major component of administrative governance. In this regard, the severity of Jiangzhe's problems likewise ranked among the foremost in the nation — which was, of course, the common affliction of prosperous regions.

In places with developed economies and thriving trade, where powerful magnates and wealthy gentry gathered and rich merchants and big traders clustered, corruption and the trading of power for money bred most easily. Also at Jianghai Customs, with the cooperation of the Wude Office, censorate surveillance, and the Shanghai judicial authorities, taking advantage of the Emperor's southern tour, a whole string of corrupt officials was rooted out.

The low-ranking but powerful officials under Jianghai Customs didn't even need to commit blatant illegal acts — they merely had to turn a blind eye in the supervision of import-export trade, and they could easily rake in "sky-high wealth."

As the first city in the Great Han Empire to be named with the character "shi" (market), and also the empire's most open city, Shanghai's atmosphere differed from that of any other city in the Great Han. Everything that broke tradition, everything bizarre and dazzling, could appear here — even *** seemed "ingeniously crafted."

Influenced by all sorts of rumors and legends, in the eyes of many uninformed people, Shanghai was a city flowing with gold, its commercial nature maxed out. Even the most conservative person here did not shy away from talking about money.

One could even say that the sprouts of capitalism had already been born. But the sins, shadows, and filth of the human world likewise hung over this city, and even the waters of the Song and Yangtze rivers combined could not wash them away.

As for the top-down rectifications of Shanghai before and after the Emperor's arrival, they were really nothing major. In great Shanghai, many people came and went, rises and falls were commonplace, and a few deaths were perfectly normal.

In this most surreal metropolis of the Great Han Empire, any individual's life, death, honor, or disgrace was utterly insignificant. As long as this city still stood, as long as the set of rules that had formed around it still operated, its prosperity would never fade.

After that rectification, both inside and outside officialdom, the people concerned cared more about the positions that had been vacated. In a place of such drastic change as Shanghai, such opportunities were rare — this was not merely an opportunity, but visible, tangible power and status.

When it came to understanding the city of Shanghai, Liu Wenji was definitely one of the few people in the Great Han Empire who saw it clearly. But upon revisiting this place, even someone as enlightened as he could not help but feel his resolve shaken. It was hard to imagine what final form this city would eventually develop into, and what Liu Wenji made up his mind to do was that the central government must strengthen its supervision and control over this place.

If there was one aspect of corruption in the southeastern officialdom that was especially prominent, it was the deficits in the official and charitable granaries. Of course, this problem was not unique to the southeast — it had existed ever since the court established, perfected, and implemented the granary system, only differing in severity across different periods.

For local bureaucrats, watching batch after batch of money, grain, and supplies gather dust in the granaries, and trying to restrain themselves from reaching out — that was harder than an old cat keeping its paws off a salted fish.

Regarding the rectification of the "two granary problem," during the Yongxi era, accompanying the adjustment and improvement of the "relief loan system," a large-scale cleanup operation had been carried out with notable results, ultimately filling a great many deficits and recovering considerable losses for the state.

But that was also nearly twenty years ago. With such a long time having passed, one could well imagine how deep and serious the accumulated ills in this area had become. Corruption and deficits, custodians stealing what they guarded, lining one's own pockets — none of these situations were in the least surprising.

What Liu Wenji found most "novel" was the conduct of some bureaucrats, whose methods were truly breathtaking. They didn't embezzle or take anything — they merely used the grain, rice, salt, and cloth stored in the official granaries to do business. Money only generates more value when it circulates, and the same went for goods.

Those supplies, if left lying in the warehouses, would forever remain nothing but dead objects, their value only decreasing, never increasing. But if they were sold off, one could not only preserve their original value, but also create additional economic benefits, and even fill office expenditures and give the clerks some perks.

As for the social value and relief responsibilities carried by those supplies themselves, when no emergency situation occurred, they didn't stand out anyway. And if real problems did arise, there were other ways to solve them — one should never underestimate the ability of bureaucrats to put their minds to work.

As for the court's surveillance, no need to worry too much — there were plenty of methods for crossing the sea by stealth and swapping flowers for trees. The key point was to get the wealth circulating, because that was how greater value was generated. As for the costs in personnel, money, and materials that arose during circulation, those could be easily passed on — for the government offices, they could even legitimately be recorded under administrative expenditures. Take grain for example: warehouse inspections, airing out old grain — all of these required spending personnel, money, and materials...

However, this kind of practice was, after all, illegal. In the past, perhaps one could only hand it over to some merchants to sell through their channels. But thanks to the great development of foreign trade, the southeastern bureaucrats handling this matter had also found some very suitable buyers.

For example, the three countries of Andong, Goryeo, and Japan. The southeastern lands were a land of fish and rice, and the fine rice produced there was always in short supply among the upper ruling classes of those three countries. Even ordinary unpolished rice could fetch a decent price. For those three countries, these basic survival supplies were all scarce.

And for those government offices, as long as the goods were loaded onto ships and shipped out, once they left port, the risk quickly dropped to the minimum. After all, things that had gone out to sea were basically impossible to investigate — one only needed to clean up one's own backyard...

And so, in just the single category of secretly selling off official reserves, a massive chain of interests involving collusion between officials and merchants was unearthed in Jiang and Zhe. Quite a few officials, merchants, and clerks were executed. The court's law enforcement and the powerful behind the scenes struck together, severing many branches of the chain — but how many people were actually entangled in that chain,

and how much profit, no one knew.

This affair could be said to have shaken the southeast, and even spread widely across the realm. But when the bureaucrats of other circuits and prefectures heard of it, while being awed by the court's severe punishment, they couldn't help but feel something strange stirring within: so this is how it could be done — it really took those southeastern colleagues to know how to play. Their own methods of selling off state property, misappropriating public funds, and embezzling for personal gain were really too crude and simple, with too ugly a table manner. Money breeding money — that was the smart, stable way to wealth...

Just like the Shanghai female teacher incident — while the whole nation was condemning and denouncing it in an uproar, who could say how many lsp were secretly envying that male student, projecting themselves into the role of "punk + student"?

And so, inevitably, some bureaucrats began to let their minds wander, considering how to borrow from the southeastern affair. Coastal regions like Min and Yue could simply copy it outright; as for other circuits and prefectures, they would need to adapt to local conditions.

History was always a process of repetition — where there is a first, there will be a second. Nor should one harbor hopes of eradicating or eliminating such things. For Emperor Liu Wenji, after experiencing the southeastern affair, the greatest lesson summed up was only one point: the ideological education and moral integrity of bureaucrats still needed to be strengthened, and this absolutely could not be neglected or ignored. Besides the Ministry of Personnel's assessment and cultivation, the Ministry of Rites' educational requirements, and the propaganda and dissemination of the Pacification Commission — all had to keep pace...

On the return journey, the imperial carriage made a special point of lingering for a long time in Huainan East Circuit — not out of longing for Yangzhou's splendor, but for one word: salt.

Where was the center of the Great Han Empire's salt industry? Without question, in Huainan East Circuit. Although over the past few decades, Hebei sea salt, Hedong mineral salt, the northwestern blue-white salt, and Jiannan well salt had all developed and seen considerable increases in output, the salt mining industries of all these places combined could barely match Huainan East salt.

In Huainan East, there were the densest salt fields and salt ponds, with a scale of production unmatched anywhere in the empire; the most advanced salt-making techniques, with all sorts of novel and effective methods for testing brine and crystallization, and various tools and containers for improving productivity — advantages in harvesting, preservation, and transport that led the entire nation; and a vast base of experienced salt workers. Along the coast of Huainan East, thanks to traditional customs, nearly every farmer and fisherman had a hand at salt-making. Even though many only mastered the inefficient boiling method, they all provided the most abundant human resources for the Huainan East salt industry.

The court also placed special emphasis on the Huainan East salt industry. Salt supervision offices were established at the salt fields of all coastal prefectures and counties for management, and a grand supervisor's office was established in Yangzhou for overall supervision and coordination. The "Yangzhou Chief Supervisor" was even of the third grade, only one rank below the Prefect of Yangzhou.

By the first year of Jianlong, the empire's salt ponds (fields) produced over seven million dan of salt in total, and Huainan East salt accounted for half of it — that was nearly two hundred million jin of table salt. Such output and scale were unprecedented in history.

Through the formulation of salt laws, the court exercised strict control over the salt industry and reaped abundant tax profits. And the Huainan East Circuit government, even without mentioning other basic tax revenues, could live very comfortably on salt profits alone — let alone the fact that its other conditions in agriculture, fisheries, water conservancy, and transportation were all not bad.

Therefore, along with the unprecedented, rapid, and flourishing development of the salt industry, combined with the advantages of the canal, Huainan East had always been a giant in the empire's economic landscape. There was even a popular saying that Yangzhou's rise to become one of the nation's top cities was because it was "fed by Huainan salt."

But while achieving unprecedented prosperity and brilliant accomplishments in the salt industry, one also needed to rationally examine the problems that accompanied it. The issue of land salinization, a change in the natural environment, need not be mentioned — that was not something this era needed to worry about.

The key issue was the unceasing exploitation without restraint, protection, or repair. The coastal dikes had fallen into disrepair over the years, and seawater backflow occurred from time to time. The flooding of farmland was secondary; the main concern was the increasingly heavy impact on the livelihoods of coastal farmers, fishermen, and salt workers, and on the salt-making industry itself.

Faced with the problem of the dilapidated sea dikes, Liu Wenji once asked the Huainan East Administration Commissioner, Zhang Lun, about it, and learned from him that the last large-scale repair of the Huainan East sea dikes had been during the tenure of Duke of Yan, Wang Pu — and that was already nearly seventy years ago.

Even so, the people of Huainan East had benefited greatly from it, and it had laid a solid foundation for the great explosion of the Huainan East salt industry decades later. Without careful study and research, it was hard to imagine just how many things Duke of Yan Wang Pu had accomplished for the locality during his years in office — truly touching on every aspect.

But even with the foundation Wang Pu had laid, seventy years of wind and tide,

was enough to make the officials and people of Huainan East suffer again from dike breaches and tidal flooding. The construction of coastal dikes had to be put on the agenda.

And so, Liu Wenji did not press further into past matters, but directly issued an edict to Administration Commissioner Zhang Lun, ordering him to organize manpower and resources to build dikes along the coast, ensuring the normal livelihoods of the people of Huainan East and ensuring the stable development of the Huainan East salt industry...

As for the funds for dike construction, the Finance Commission and Huainan East Circuit would each contribute a portion, and for engineering matters, support could also be sought from the Ministry of Works. He gave full support, and also full pressure. Additionally, Liu Wenji kept the censor Fan Zhongyan behind as the Son of Heaven's personal envoy to supervise the progress of the Huainan East sea dike project, because Fan Zhongyan was the first person by the Emperor's side to lay out to him the pros and cons of the Huainan East sea dikes.

Dikes that had fallen into ruin could be repaired and reinforced, but some of the deep-seated problems surrounding the empire's salt industry were not so easily solved. Collusion between officials and merchants, *** — these were inevitable. And over the long years, a vast and complex interest group had grown up around the empire's salt industry (especially after the reform of transport and sales), and it had gradually come to exert an increasingly serious influence on the nation's economy and people's livelihoods.

Corruption and degeneration within the government, erosion by salt merchants, profit-grabbing by powerful figures behind the scenes, desperate struggles and slaughter among the lower and middle ranks of "salt industry operators," the rampant spread of private salt... Behind the glory lay countless disorders and tangled interests, and even more crimes that made one's blood run cold.

And the most directly visible point was that even though the empire's salt production was already very high, breaking historical precedent, there still wasn't enough to eat. The market price of salt remained very high — nearly double what it had been at the time of the salt system reform (110 wen per dou of salt) — and in many places, the common people still couldn't afford salt.

Among these causes, there were certainly objective factors such as population growth and transportation costs, but the interest group lying on top and sucking blood was clearly the more real and profound reason. And this interest group included the Great Han court itself...

A digression: although Huainan salt had the highest output in the realm, the empire's upper nobility, including the imperial house, basically didn't eat it. They all ate the blue-white salt of the northwest or the mineral salt of Hedong — those were the fine-quality refined salts. Sea salt? That was what commoners ate.