Chapter 282: 280 Degeneration

"This is the first batch of silver coins." Fei Chun brought out a box and said.

Zhao Han smiled. "Sit."

Fei Chun and Song Yingxing each took a seat.

The silver coin was exceptionally beautiful and finely made — the two of them must have selected it specially.

The obverse bore the vertical inscription "One Yuan," with "Eleventh Year of Chongzhen," "Made in Jiangxi," and other characters around the rim. The main design on the reverse was crossed ears of rice and wheat, with the words "Great Unity under Heaven."

Zhao Han was thoroughly pleased. "This rice-ear and wheat-ear pattern is dense and intricate — is it meant to prevent counterfeiting?"

"It is indeed for anti-counterfeiting," Song Yingxing nodded. "The ring of dots around the edge is also an anti-counterfeiting measure."

Zhao Han asked further, "Pressed by water power?"

Song Yingxing explained, "Rolled using a water-driven roller press."

There was nothing technically difficult about this — as early as the Zhengde reign of the Great Ming, Habsburg Austria was already using roller-press coining technology.

Fifty years ago, Spain adopted water-powered roller coining, with the mint located in Spain proper.

In the last twenty or thirty years, the mint in Mexico also began using this technique.

The requirement Zhao Han had originally given Song Yingxing was that the coins must be made using water power. With water power, stamping was actually more troublesome, while roller pressing was very simple.

Zhao Han toyed with the silver coin and asked, "This must be the finest specimen. What do the poor specimens look like?"

Song Yingxing produced two more silver coins and said, "Poor specimens generally fall into these two categories."

Zhao Han took them and looked — one was severely bent, the other had a misaligned design.

Song Yingxing explained, "Roller pressing inevitably causes some bending and warping; they must be hammered flat by hand before leaving the mint. Also, the roller dies can sometimes shift out of alignment, causing the coin design to be off-register."

Zhao Han instructed, "Melt down and recast any with misaligned designs."

Spain's eight-real silver coins, with all manner of bent surfaces and misaligned designs, were circulated just the same.

"What is the silver content?" Zhao Han asked.

Song Yingxing said, "One silver coin is one tael, with a silver content of eight mace eight, the filler being white copper."

White copper is a copper-nickel alloy; this silver coin had a silver content of 88%.

As for Spanish silver coins, their silver content was around 90%.

The 2% difference in silver content made the Great Unity silver coins somewhat harder, so they bent less severely during rolling and were less prone to damage and deformation in long-term circulation.

Additionally, the Great Unity silver coin was one tael, with a standard weight of 37.3 grams. The Spanish silver coin was under one tael, with a standard weight of 27.07 grams.

For circulation and use in China, the Great Unity silver coin was certainly more convenient, as it could directly correspond to one tael of silver.

Zhao Han said, "The coin-casting plant, the coin-rolling plant, and the note-printing plant — from now on, separate them from the Works Department and the Finance Department. Establish a separate Coinage Bureau, directly under the Regional Commander's headquarters, with joint oversight by the Works Department and the Finance Department."

"Yes!"

Fei Chun and Song Yingxing cupped their hands.

Fei Chun said, "From this winter until the summer harvest next year, we must control the grain merchants and ban the transport of grain out of our territory. I request the deployment of several naval warships to assist with inspections."

"Granted." Zhao Han agreed at once.

The main issue was that within a single year, their territory had expanded by two provinces, leaving Jiangxi severely short of grain. Without controls, grain prices would inevitably skyrocket next spring.

It should not be overlooked that at the start of the year, the regular troops numbered only 16,000.

But with simultaneous campaigns in two provinces, the peasant soldiers and grain-transport laborers who took part numbered over sixty thousand.

By the ancient method of reckoning, Zhao Han had mobilized eighty thousand troops this year.

And if one wanted to boast a little, one could announce to the outside world that two hundred thousand had been fielded.

In the later phase, with too many cities occupied, another six thousand peasant soldiers were drawn off and dispatched to garrison the newly taken cities. It would take at least half a year, until public order in those cities stabilized and the runners and constables were properly reorganized, before the peasant soldiers guarding each city could be withdrawn.

Those garrison peasant soldiers also consumed grain!

Moreover, large numbers of officials, propaganda corps members, and peasant association cadres were deployed, and there would be subsequent migration and disaster relief to handle.

Jiangxi, Hunan, and Guangdong already had virtually no surplus grain left.

Had they not issued military scrip in large quantities, Zhao Han would not even have had enough to pay the soldiers' wages. He was not the Manchu Qing — when grain ran short, they could simply go plunder. When Zhao Han took territory, not only could he not seize grain, he had to use his own grain for disaster relief.

For this reason, Zhao Han's troop expansion this time could only reach 23,000 men.

They had to wait until the summer harvest next year, when there would be enough grain, before expanding by another 5,000 men.

Twenty-eight thousand combat soldiers would be enough to pacify the south!

With those combat soldiers as the backbone, an army of three hundred thousand could be raised at any moment.

Having finished with official business, Zhao Han returned to the inner residence.

"Cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck!"

It was not anyone laughing, but the sound of hens.

Pan Qimei still lived in the same courtyard as Fei Rulan — they could keep each other company and talk, and it also let Pan Qimei learn Chinese more quickly.

Only, there was an empty courtyard that Pan Qimei had opened up to raise chickens…

She had bought one rooster, six hens, and a great brood of chicks.

Pan Qimei was afraid the chicken droppings would stink and bother others, so she cleaned diligently every day. Nor did she let the droppings go to waste — she sold them cheaply to the maidservants, who took them home to stockpile and then resold them to the village peasants.

At this, both Zhao Han and Fei Rulan could only laugh and shake their heads.

"Waaa waaa waaa…"

Suddenly the sound of crying came. Zhao Han followed the sound into the chicken-raising courtyard and saw Chong'er with his head tilted back, wailing at the top of his lungs.

"What's the matter?" Zhao Han asked.

Fei Rulan sighed. "Chong'er stepped on a chick and killed it. No one scolded him — he started crying all on his own."

Zhao Han stroked his son's head and gently soothed him. "There, there, don't cry, don't cry."

Chong'er pointed behind him, sobbing so hard he could barely get the words out. "Da… Da, the chick… won't… won't move. I stepped on it… broke it."

"Then shouldn't you be more careful from now on, and not step on chicks?" Zhao Han asked.

"Mm." Chong'er wiped his tears and nodded.

Zhao Han smiled. "That's the way. Don't be afraid of making mistakes, but once you've made one, you must correct it. Remember that?"

Chong'er half-understood and just nodded.

Pan Qimei had already put away the chick's body, afraid the child would see it and keep crying.

Actually, raising chickens was quite interesting. At least Chong'er adored it and came running every day to feed them. Fei Rulan came along now and then and had gotten quite familiar with the chickens. Mother and son were practically raising pets.

A child's sorrow comes quickly and goes just as fast.

Before long, Chong'er was laughing again, feeding the chickens the rice bran Pan Qimei had mixed, squatting there and intently watching them eat.

Toward evening, Little Sister came back, with Zheng Sen tagging eagerly behind her.

That fellow Zheng Zhilong had made inquiries and learned that Zhao Han had an unmarried younger sister. He dumped his son here and even specifically warned the boy to seek more contact with Zhao Han's sister.

What he was angling for was obvious without saying.

Zheng Sen hadn't taken the matter to heart, yet somehow found himself drawn to Zhao Zhenfang.

Because Zhao Zhenfang was lively and open, not only well-versed in Tang poetry and Song lyrics but having finished studying the Four Books, and she even knew Western mathematics. Zhao Zhenfang was different from the young women Zheng Sen had met before — she carried a self-reliant confidence, along with a bright frankness and ease. This was Zhao Han's influence on her.

In any case, Zheng Sen was captivated and followed Zhao Zhenfang around whenever he had free time.

Zheng Sen was fifteen, Zhao Zhenfang sixteen — just like a little brother tagging after his older sister.

To have common topics, Zheng Sen not only talked about the Four Books and poetry but also took the initiative to learn mathematics from Zhao Zhenfang.

"Aiya, how can you still not get it? I've taught you this type of problem several times already. You just plug it into the formula and it solves." Zhao Zhenfang scolded.

Zheng Sen grinned foolishly. "I'm slow."

In truth, he had long since grasped it. Playing dumb was just so he could watch the way Zhao Zhenfang looked when she chided someone.

Every frown and every smile — Zheng Sen found them all beautiful.

Zheng Sen was thick-skinned and kept hanging around, clearly hoping to scrounge a meal here.

Even during the meal, Zheng Sen's gaze kept stealing secret glances at Zhao Zhenfang.

The more Zhao Han watched, the more something felt off. The Lord of the Imperial Surname was someone he meant to focus on cultivating — how had things veered off course like this?

Zhao Zhenfang was a clever girl and had long since sensed something unusual. Today, eating at home, Zheng Sen was still stealing looks like this, and she was instantly so embarrassed her face flushed, terrified her brother and sister-in-law would notice.

While Zhao Han wasn't looking, Zhao Zhenfang shot Zheng Sen a glare.

Zheng Sen's heart bloomed with delight at that glare. That look of coy reproach, her cheeks all red — it instantly left Zheng Sen spellbound.

What the hell was this?

Zhao Zhenfang, on the contrary, no longer dared to glare. She buried her head and just shoveled rice, her heart now in utter turmoil.

The one Zhao Zhenfang liked was Xiao Shixuan. Though he was as aloof as a block of wood, he was especially captivating when studying mathematics. As for this Zheng Sen, Zhao Zhenfang only saw him as a little brother — yet this little brother's undisguised pursuit stirred some degree of fondness in her heart.

Sometimes, Zhao Zhenfang would wonder: which one should I really choose?

Zhao Han pretended not to see any of it. He wouldn't interfere in such matters; everything would follow his little sister's own heart.

After dinner, Zheng Sen again went running after Zhao Zhenfang.

When only the two of them were alone, Zhao Zhenfang gave him a fierce glare and warned, "Don't you look at me like that, like a fool!"

"All right," Zheng Sen said, smiling.

Zhao Zhenfang added, "It's very late. Don't follow me — people will gossip."

"Where is Sister going to play tomorrow?" Zheng Sen asked.

Zhao Zhenfang said, "I have classes tomorrow. I won't have any time for playing around."

Zheng Sen said, "After class, I'll come pick you up. I still have lots of math questions to ask for guidance."

"We'll see when the time comes." Zhao Zhenfang thought this guy was utterly shameless.

Zheng Sen stood in the courtyard and said, "Go on in. I'll watch you go back to your room."

"Can't be bothered with you." Zhao Zhenfang turned and left.

Once inside, after shutting the door, Zhao Zhenfang couldn't help stealing another look.

She saw Zheng Sen still standing there. Zhao Zhenfang felt her cheeks burn, and at the same time was rather reproachful of herself. She felt she was shifting her affections — she clearly liked Xiao Shixuan, so why was she acting like this?

The hearts of young boys and girls are always shifting between sun and cloud, hard to fathom.

Zhao Han, meanwhile, was chatting with Fei Rulan and Pan Qimei. With few people in the household, the two women got along quite harmoniously — they even ate their meals together.

If there were more people, such harmony would certainly be impossible.

Pan Qimei's vocabulary was growing day by day, and simple communication was no problem, as long as one didn't speak too fast or listen too fast. She sat beside them the whole time smiling, listening to Zhao Han talk with Fei Rulan.

Pan Qimei was very fond of Fei Rulan, who was like an older sister and like a mother, teaching her so many things and taking especially good care of her.

After chatting a while, Zhao Han headed to the study.

When he returned after two hours of reading, the two women were still talking, and mainly playing with Chong'er together.

"Chong'er still isn't asleep?" Zhao Han said with a smile.

Fei Rulan said, "His eyelids are fighting each other, but he just refuses to sleep."

Chong'er lay nestled in Pan Qimei's arms, his eyelids closing then opening again, until suddenly his head drooped and he was fast asleep.

"I'll carry the child back," Fei Rulan said, rising.

The two women, one night each — Zhao Han took turns sharing their rooms.

All of a sudden, Zhao Han recalled a certain film he had once watched. His mouth dry and tongue parched, he said, "How about we give the child to the wet nurse and all sleep together tonight."

"Together..." Fei Rulan suddenly caught on. Her face reddening, she spat, "Have you no shame!"

"Just one night, just one night," Zhao Han said in a pleading tone.

He had always insisted on taking no concubines, yet now he wanted to try something fancy. Truly, power easily corrupts.

Fei Rulan rose, intending to carry the child away. Zhao Han hastily pulled her back. "Come on, come on, just one night."

"Pfft!"

Fei Rulan suddenly burst out laughing. In all the years she had known Zhao Han, this was the first time she had ever seen him look so pitiful.

Fei Rulan called for Xiyue and told her to take the child to the wet nurse.

Xiyue carried the child out, and the bedroom door closed at once. The girl stood there dumbstruck, unable to resist stealing a glance inside, her heart pounding wildly — but unfortunately, the lamp was soon extinguished.

Pan Qimei had not understood what was happening at first, until Zhao Han pulled her into the bedroom and she saw Fei Rulan walk in too. Only then did she shrink back in embarrassment and go sit on the bed.

Gazing at the two beauties, each lovely in her own way, Zhao Han felt heat surge through his entire body.

"No looking. Blow out the lamp!" Fei Rulan's voice grew softer and softer, until it was barely audible.

Pan Qimei abruptly got off the bed, crossed the room in two strides, and blew it out in one breath.

The room fell pitch-black, leaving only the rustling sound of clothes being shed, followed by the three of them breathing heavier and heavier.

They were all nervous and excited beyond measure.

Zhao Han had finally fallen from grace, no longer a pure-hearted youth.

(End of chapter)