Chapter 855: Strike and blockade cut off salt and iron, the living Yama watches the chess game with cold eyes

The dawn in Yinzhou City came half an hour later than usual.

It wasn't because the cloud layer was too thick, but because the shops on both sides of Zhuque Avenue, which usually opened their doors to welcome guests before dawn, were all tightly closed today, with a piece of white paper pasted on the door panels, on which only two characters were written.

No goods.

No goods in the rice shop, no goods in the salt shop, no goods in the blacksmith shop, no goods in the cloth shop, not even the peddlers selling firewood were to be seen.

The entire Zhuque Avenue was empty, with only the autumn wind scraping a few withered leaves across the blue stone road surface, making a rustling sound that made one's heart feel cold.

The news spread from Yinzhou to Sui Prefecture, from Sui Prefecture to Yan Prefecture, from Yan Prefecture to Yan Prefecture.

Overnight, the shops in the four prefectures were like lamp wicks pinched out by the same hand, all extinguishing their fires in unison.

At the entrance of a salt shop in the south of Yinzhou City, over thirty commoners were crowded in front of the door panels. Some were smashing the door panels with their fists, some were squatting at the foot of the wall cursing, and some were staring blankly while holding empty salt jars.

A woman so thin her cheekbones were protruding shouted at the inside of the door panels at the top of her lungs.

"Shopkeeper, the salt jar in this little woman's home hit bottom three days ago. The child has no salt to eat and has no strength. I beg you to open the door and sell a little!"

There was no sound from inside the door panels.

An old man squatting on the ground nearby, holding a few copper coins in his hand, had a voice as hoarse as a broken gong.

"Stop shouting. When I came yesterday, there were still people inside; today, even the people are gone. They ran."

The woman's hand slid down from the door panel, her entire body leaning against the wall, tears rolling down her face.

By noon, the news spread even faster.

Some said there was still salt for sale on the black market in the east of the city, but the price had already risen from the original thirty wen per jin to six hundred wen.

Six hundred wen.

A common farmer's monthly income couldn't buy two jin of salt.

By the hour of Shen (3:00–5:00 PM), the price of salt on the black market had doubled again to twelve hundred wen per jin, and it was still rising.

Raw iron was even more outrageous, disappearing completely; one couldn't even buy an iron nail.

Panic spread through Yinzhou City like a plague. First, the commoners began to scramble for everything edible, then came smashing, then robbery.

A scattered merchant in the west of the city was surrounded by over a dozen starving, red-eyed refugees. The three bags of coarse salt on his cart were snatched clean, and he himself was beaten black and blue, lying by the roadside groaning.

The yamen runners of the Yinzhou Inspector's Office patrolled the streets with water-fire sticks, but there were too few of them to suppress it at all.

Three days later, Xia Prefecture Governor's Office.

Zhang Wenqian stood before the desk in the main hall, holding a stack of urgent reports sent from various prefectures with both hands, the dark circles beneath his eyes thick enough to almost seep blood.

He spread the urgent reports one by one on the desk, his voice as hoarse as if ground by sandpaper.

"Pillar of State, the salt price in Yinzhou has risen twenty times in three days, raw iron supply is completely cut off, and the situation in Yan Prefecture and Yan Prefecture is similar. The commoners have already begun to make trouble."

He flipped to the second urgent report, tracing a line over the numbers on it.

"Three robberies occurred in the south of Yinzhou City yesterday, two grocery stores that hadn't closed yet were smashed in the west of the city, and four yamen runners from the Inspector's Office were injured."

He put down the urgent report, looked up at Chen Yan in the main seat, his voice carrying an irrepressible anxiety.

"Pillar of State, if this continues, there will be a major disaster in Yinzhou in less than five days. Your subordinate suggests temporarily slowing down the implementation of the New Law, first appeasing the merchants and stabilizing prices."

Chen Yan sat in the grand master's chair in the main seat, his right hand resting on the armrest, his left hand holding a cup of tea. He flicked the tea lid with his fingertips, making a fine sound of porcelain colliding.

He placed the tea lid back on the tea cup and lifted his eyelids to look at Zhang Wenqian.

"Appease the merchants?"

Zhang Wenqian's voice grew urgent by two parts.

"Pillar of State, your subordinate knows these merchants deserve to die, but the commoners can't eat salt and can't buy iron. If this drags on, lives will really be lost."

Chen Yan placed the tea cup back on the small table beside the armrest, his fingers withdrawing from the tea cup and slowly tucking into the side seam of his cloak.

"Zhang Wenqian, how many years have you followed me?"

Zhang Wenqian's body paused slightly.

"Your subordinate has followed the Pillar of State for almost five years."

Chen Yan's voice dropped by half, light as if saying something extremely ordinary.

"Almost five years, and you still don't understand my temper?"

Zhang Wenqian's lips moved, but he didn't speak.

Chen Yan stood up from the grand master's chair, strode to the desk, and pressed his palm onto the stack of urgent reports, his voice carrying a contempt that made Zhang Wenqian's spine feel slightly tight.

"A group of fat pigs selling salt and iron, threatening me with salt and iron?"

He lifted his palm from the urgent reports, his fingers pinching the letter on top—it was the one Qian Wansan had sent to the gate of the Governor's Office early this morning.

The content of the letter was very simple: as long as Chen Yan abolished the One Heart Society, withdrew the New Law, and executed the leading political commissars, the Chamber of Commerce would immediately restore supply and stabilize prices.

Chen Yan held the letter up to his eyes, looked for three breaths, and the arc of his mouth slowly curved up.

That arc carried something that made even Zhang Wenqian feel the surrounding temperature dropping rapidly.

"These fat pigs probably don't know how to write the word 'death'."

He crumpled the letter paper in his hand into a ball and tossed it into the charcoal brazier beside him. The paper ball burst into a cluster of flames on the charcoal, burning into ashes.

Zhang Wenqian's voice followed, carrying a trace of confusion.

"Pillar of State, what about the commoners..."

Chen Yan turned around, looked at Zhang Wenqian, his voice dropping, every word bitten extremely heavily.

"Zhang Wenqian, did you think I dared to move against Yinzhou without preparation?"

Zhang Wenqian's brow twitched.

Chen Yan strode to the door leading to the secret chamber behind the main hall, pressing the secret catch on the door frame. The door panel retreated half a foot inward without a sound.

"Follow me."

Zhang Wenqian followed Chen Yan into the secret chamber. A huge map of the Northwest Seven Prefectures merchant routes hung on the stone wall of the secret chamber, marked with dense routes and nodes in cinnabar and ink lines.

Chen Yan's finger landed on a red line to the northwest of Xia Prefecture on the map. That red line started from Xia Prefecture, bypassed all the traditional merchant routes controlled by the Yinzhou Chamber of Commerce, and via a route marked with the two characters "New Road," led directly to several salt pools and iron mines on the Northwest border.

"I had this merchant route opened half a year ago."

Zhang Wenqian's pupils expanded a circle.

Chen Yan's finger moved from the red line and pointed to three locations outside Xia Prefecture City marked with the two characters "Secret Warehouse."

"The salt-boiling method of Xia Prefecture—I had the craftsmen improve it three times. The salt output is five times that of the old method, and the cost is only thirty percent of the old method."

His finger moved to another location.

"Blast furnace iron smelting—I had the craftsmen I invited from the Central Plains spend four months modifying the furnace structure. The iron output doubled, and the iron quality is three parts better than what the Yinzhou Chamber of Commerce sells."

Zhang Wenqian's mouth opened, his voice emerging from his throat, carrying something even he couldn't explain.

"Pillar of State, you knew the Chamber of Commerce would act long ago?"

Chen Yan's finger withdrew from the map and tucked into the side seam of his cloak, his voice carrying a leisure that made one's spine feel cold.

"From the first day I decided to move against Yinzhou, I knew these fat pigs would use salt and iron to choke my neck."

He turned around, looked at Zhang Wenqian, the arc of his mouth deepening by another two parts.

"So I spent half a year quietly sharpening my blade, just waiting for them to stick their necks out themselves."

Zhang Wenqian's back broke out in a layer of fine sweat, the anxiety in his voice replaced by something more intense.

"Then why doesn't the Pillar of State act now? The salt and iron in the secret warehouses are enough to stabilize prices, and the commoners are still suffering..."

Chen Yan's finger tapped lightly on the hilt of the horizontal blade, his voice turning

"Because I want to make them die even more thoroughly."

Zhang Wenqian's Adam's apple bobbed.

Chen Yan strode back to the stone wall of the secret chamber and poked his finger heavily on the location of the Yinzhou Chamber of Commerce.

"Qian Wansan thinks he has already won; he will dump all his liquid capital into hoarding goods, driving the price higher and higher, waiting for me to bow my head."

He withdrew his finger from the map and clenched it into a fist in front of him.

"Once he has tied up all his silver and his capital chain is stretched to its tightest, I will strike with one blow, and he won't even have a chance to turn things around."

Zhang Wenqian's voice dropped by half a degree.

"Zhuguo, but as for the common people..."

Chen Yan turned his head to look at him, the temperature in his voice returning by two degrees.

"Order the Inspector's Offices of each prefecture to allocate three days' worth of rations from the official granaries and distribute them by household; distribute only grain, not salt or iron—just holding out for these few days will be enough."

Zhang Wenqian's spine straightened by three degrees.

"This subordinate understands."

Chen Yan unclenched his fist and pointed toward the direction of the door.

"Also, order Gao Jiong to have the Mingjing Si fully infiltrate the Yinzhou Chamber of Commerce; I don't just want to win this battle, I want to uproot these fat pigs' entire family fortunes, leaving them not even a single wen."

Zhang Wenqian hammered a fist against his chest armor.

"This subordinate will go handle it now."

Chen Yan watched Zhang Wenqian's back as he turned and walked out of the secret chamber, his finger tracing an arc on the hilt of his horizontal blade, his voice so soft only he could hear it.

"To make them perish, one must first make them mad."

His gaze crossed the stone wall of the secret chamber and landed on the location of Yinzhou on the map, the curve of his lips carrying a chilling kind of patience.

"Qian Wansan, go ahead and be mad; the harder you go mad, the more miserably you will die."

At the same time, Yinzhou City, Chamber of Commerce headquarters secret chamber.

Gao Jiong stood before a bronze mirror, the face reflected in it already looking like a different person from three days ago.

His face was covered in an extremely thin sheepskin mask that changed his originally dark, hawk-like features into a round, wealthy-looking face; a meticulously trimmed, thick beard was glued to his chin, he wore a felt hat inlaid with jewels, a Western Regions-style brocade robe, and a bulging deerskin money pouch hung from his waist.

He untied the pouch and poured out ten gold cakes cast from pure gold, each the size of an infant's fist, glowing with a luster under the candlelight that made it impossible to look away.

Standing beside him were two Mingjing Si hidden agents who had also disguised themselves, one as a servant and the other as an accountant.

Gao Jiong put the gold cakes back into the pouch, tied it shut, and lowered his voice to a level only the three of them could hear.

"From today on, I am Ashina Kulban, a great merchant from the Shule Kingdom of the Western Regions, specializing in the salt and iron trade; I have come to Yinzhou this time to purchase a large batch of pig iron to transport back to the Western Regions."

He straightened his felt hat and tugged at the corner of his mouth; the arc was completely different from his usual chilling coldness that made people's spines crawl, carrying the smoothness and shrewdness unique to a merchant.

"Remember, once we enter the black market, no matter the price, don't haggle—buy directly; the more you buy, the better, and the more extravagant you act, the better."

The hidden agent disguised as a servant lowered his voice by half a degree.

"Changshi, what if they get suspicious?"

Gao Jiong tied the deerskin pouch back to his waist and patted it, producing a heavy, muffled thud.

"Who would suspect a fool with too much money?"

He turned and strode toward the secret door of the chamber, the hem of his brocade robe sweeping up an arc as he turned.

"Let's go, to the underground black market of Yinzhou; I am going to uncover the entire foundation of these fat pigs."

North of Yinzhou City, underground black market.

The black market was hidden beneath an abandoned wine cellar; the entrance was a dry well in the backyard of the cellar, with iron nails hammered into the well wall as footrests. Climbing down three zhang along the footrests led to a spacious tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel was a brightly lit underground space.

Gao Jiong stepped down the iron nail footrests into the tunnel, the hem of his brocade robe getting stained with a bit of mud; he patted it off and muttered in a broken Central Plains official dialect.

"What kind of lousy road is this, dirtying my robe."

The guards at the end of the tunnel stopped him, a curved saber held across his chest.

"Who goes there?"

Gao Jiong fished out a bronze token engraved with a secret mark from his waist—it was an entry permit he had bought from a black market broker for five hundred taels of gold.

The guard glanced at the bronze token, withdrew the curved saber, and stepped aside to clear the path.

Gao Jiong strode into the underground space, his gaze sweeping over the stalls filled with contraband goods, a greedy smile unique to a merchant hanging on his lips.

He stopped in front of a stall selling pig iron, tapped his finger twice on an iron ingot, his voice carrying a heavy Western Regions accent.

"This iron, how much per jin?"

The stall owner was a lean, middle-aged man whose eyes darted twice over the expensive brocade robe Gao Jiong was wearing.

"Eight hundred wen."

Gao Jiong didn't even frown, fished out a gold cake from his pouch, and slapped it onto the stall.

"How much do you have here? I want it all."

The stall owner's eyes lit up in the luster of the gold cake, his voice becoming three degrees warmer.

"The guest is generous; this little one has three hundred jin here, I'll wrap it all up for you."

Gao Jiong waved his hand, his voice carrying a hint of impatience.

"Three hundred jin is too little; I want thirty thousand jin. Can you get it?"

The stall owner's mouth opened, and the warmth in his voice turned into something more intense.

"Thirty thousand jin? Guest, this little one can't handle this amount alone, but I know someone who can."

Gao Jiong's lips curved, his finger fished another gold cake from the pouch and stuffed it into the stall owner's palm.

"Take me to see the person who can handle it; this is your errand fee."

The stall owner gripped the gold cake in his palm, the greed in his eyes becoming too thick to melt away.

"Guest, please wait a moment; this little one will go invite the person now."

Gao Jiong leaned against the stone pillar next to the stall, his finger tapping the pouch rhythmically, the arc of his lips in the dim light tightening into a straight line that made people's spines crawl.

Half a stick of incense later, the stall owner brought over a fat man wearing a silk long gown; the fat man wore two jade thumb rings on his fingers, clearly at the level of a steward on the periphery of the Chamber of Commerce.

Gao Jiong's lips put back on that smooth merchant smile, his fingers fished two more gold cakes from the pouch and juggled them in his palm.

"Can you get thirty thousand jin of pig iron? The price is negotiable."

The fat man's gaze lingered on the two gold cakes for three breaths, his voice carrying a hint of probing.

"Where is the guest from? What do you need so much iron for?"

Gao Jiong stuffed the gold cakes into the fat man's hand, his voice carrying the heartiness unique to a Western Regions merchant.

"I am a merchant from the Shule Kingdom, and I need to transport the iron back to the Western Regions to make farm tools; why do you care what I use it for? Whether the silver is enough is the real business."

The fat man weighed the gold cakes in his palm, the probing on his face replaced by greed.

"The guest is straightforward; this little one can handle this, but for an amount of thirty thousand jin, I have to give a heads-up to the people above."

Gao Jiong patted the fat man's shoulder, his voice as warm as if he were catching up with an old friend of many years.

"Then I'll trouble you to introduce me; I have nothing else, but I have plenty of silver—whoever can help me get the goods, I will never treat them poorly."

The fat man's eyes darted twice, his voice lowering by half a degree.

"Is the guest free tomorrow night? I will take you to see someone; the goods in his hands are a hundred times more than mine."

Gao Jiong's lips curved in the dim light, but he suppressed the arc extremely quickly, replacing it with an expectant expression unique to a merchant.

"Good, tomorrow night, I will wait for your news."

The fat man patted his chest and left; Gao Jiong leaned against the stone pillar, his finger tapping the pouch lightly, his voice so low only the hidden agents beside him could hear.

"The fish has taken the bait."

His gaze swept across the depths of the underground space and landed on the entrance to the secret tunnel leading further in; the iron door of the secret tunnel was tightly shut, with two guards holding blades standing at the entrance.

Where that secret tunnel led, Gao Jiong did not yet know.

But his nose told him that at the end of that secret tunnel lay a secret even greater than salt and iron smuggling.

A secret sufficient to bring the Yinzhou Chamber of Commerce to total ruin.