Chapter 313

"Six hundred wen for one guan of treasure note!"

"Those treasure notes were all acquired with real gold and silver—how dare he not just seize them by force?!"

Dorgon drew a deep breath and looked at Dodo, urging him

"Dodo, don't rush."

"Guess how much silver I paid the Chahar merchants on the steppe today for one guan of treasure note?"

Dodo froze in surprise.

"How much?"

"Seven hundred and fifty wen!"

Dodo stood rooted to the spot, stunned.

"Seven hundred and fifty wen?"

"This—this can't be right! Weren't we told the Great Ming showed wisdom this time and wouldn't let it turn to worthless paper again?"

Dorgon snorted coldly

"Han people have too many tricks—they need Han people to untangle them. This is surely Fan Wencheng's doing."

Here, he paused.

Dorgon sighed and said

"Fan Wencheng, after all, is working for our Manchu realm. We must support him whenever we can."

Upon hearing this, Dodo snorted sharply

"Support? Brother, you know as well as I do—this scheme has made our banners' efforts for the next three to five years worthless."

"He'd better throw the Great Ming's ranks into chaos!"

Dorgon shook his head, smiling bitterly

"Dodo, you're too impulsive. Our banners have plenty of silver but few notes—why worry about him? What matters is living our lives."

Here, he added

Dorgon couldn't help but whistle in disbelief

"In the end, it's still silver that's the true currency."

While all the Eight Banners youths hid behind the scenes, watching Fan Wencheng with bated breath,

Gao Li and the steppe—the two main battlefields of the treasure note war—

saw their clashes grow increasingly intense.

"Mr. Fan, it's confirmed: the Great Ming has agents on the steppe buying treasure notes."

Fan Wencheng's brow tightened.

He fixed his gaze on the man before him and demanded

"At what price are they buying the treasure notes?"

"My lord, they've set their rate at one thousand and five wen per guan."

Upon hearing this,

Fan Wencheng sneered coldly

"Good! I feared only that the Great Ming wouldn't take them!"

"Send word to them: we'll give them as many treasure notes as they have silver—let's outlast them until they burst!"

"Yes, my lord!"

If Fan Wencheng had known the consequences of his actions,

he'd never have dared speak such arrogance.

In the days that followed,

the treasure notes in Fan Wencheng's hands vanished like drops into an endless abyss.

No matter how many notes were thrown in,

an equal amount of silver poured out.

The treasury in Shengjing now held a staggering fifty million taels of silver!

At first,

whether Hong Taiji or the Eight Banners youths,

all who saw the mountains of silver

wore broad smiles.

This was silver!

Even if the Great Qing abandoned its throne and retreated into the mountains, these silver reserves alone would sustain two generations in comfort.

Hong Taiji even issued an edict granting Fan Wencheng the title of Viscount.

But soon,

the people of Shengjing realized the cost behind this frenzy.

Liaodong, already impoverished in resources,

saw its prices skyrocket after being flooded with so much silver.

……

……

In Fan Wencheng's residence,

Fan Wencheng, exhausted from a full day's work, finally returned home.

Gangyijin Sect

His own steward stepped up to Fan Wencheng and said with a bitter smile

"Master, this is the household's expenses for this month."

Fan Wencheng casually took the account book without paying much attention and said

"Such a trivial matter, you can handle it yourselves..."

Just as he finished reading the words in the ledger.

Fan Wencheng's expression froze in place.

"The household spent three thousand five hundred taels of silver this month?!"

Fan Wencheng looked at the steward before him in disbelief.

Unexpectedly, the steward's bare forehead was already covered with beads of sweat.

"Master, who would say otherwise? Today, I went out and bought ten shi of flour, which cost over seventy taels of silver!"

Hearing this.

Fan Wencheng was stunned.

"How much silver?"

"Seventy taels of silver."

Fan Wencheng drew in a sharp breath.

Looking at his own steward in disbelief, he asked

"Is a shi of flour now selling for seven taels of silver?!"

"What about rice?"

After pondering for a moment, the steward finally spoke

"Master, rice prices change daily. By now, it is likely nearly eight taels of silver per shi."

In an instant, Fan Wencheng realized.

Something terrible was about to happen!

Fan Wencheng could not attend to his own household matters.

He immediately threw down the ledger and ran toward the interior of Shengjing City.

At this moment, the entire Shengjing had already changed its appearance.

Fan Wencheng exerted all his strength to squeeze into the rice shop on the street.

Looking at the shop attendant before him, he asked

"Attendant, how much silver is a shi of rice now?"

The attendant did not even lift his eyelids.

He said casually