Chapter 300: A New Policy Worth Two Coppers

The drum and horn just fell silent at the fifth watch; the vault of heaven was still pitch black.

Outside the towering Gate of Heavenly Succession, however, lanterns had long been drifting to and fro, like sinuous fire-dragons, lighting the square before the forbidden palace gates bright as day. The hundred officials waiting in the open for the dawn court session — this was an iron rule of the Great Ming that no thunderstorm could shake.

And today was the first New Year's Day grand audience since the new emperor ascended the throne, so no one dared arrive late or be absent.

Sedan chairs settled to the ground one after another, and the civil officials and nobles who stepped out were every one of them clad in brand-new ceremonial robes.

Looking out across the scene, the official robes of scarlet ramie silk merged into a sea of flame.

The rank badges on their chests were bird-and-beast patterns densely woven with gold thread.

Rarer still, those few Grand Secretaries and senior ministers wore python robes and bull-fighter robes newly bestowed by Zhu Youjian, their splendor flowing under the lamplight, noble beyond words. Though the weather was cold enough to freeze dripping water solid, these men who stood at the pinnacle of Great Ming power all bore themselves with perfect composure.

Inside those broad sleeves, most of them cradled an exquisite cloisonné hand-warmer, fine red-luo charcoal burning within, warmth flowing through their fingertips and spreading through their whole bodies. Next to the skin they wore undergarments of fine white cotton, light and breathable; over that, a tight layer of camel-hair vest, light and warm, never looking bulky.

Those older gentlemen who feared the cold even more would also wrap a soft fur kidney-guard around their waists, sheltering their kidney qi snug and secure. And at the knees, every man had long since bound on thick, soft knee-pads, sable fur on the outside, cotton wadding within.

When the time came, up in the golden hall, to perform the grand rite of three kneelings and nine knockings, with this "lining" in place, they would not feel their knees aching sharply.

When people say Great Ming official salaries are meager, they mean meager for luxury and indulgence, meager for keeping hundreds of servants, meager for social entertaining — it could never be meager for the basics of clothing, food, shelter, and travel.

In small clusters of three or five, they bowed to one another and exchanged New Year greetings.

The white breath puffed from their mouths vanished instantly in the wind.

No one spoke of the empty state treasury, nor did anyone mention the Jianzhou barbarians beyond the passes.

In this joyous New Year season, everyone simply chatted about the blessings of sons and grandsons, the little affairs of home — all harmony and refinement.

Once the court session was over in a while, there would be the imperial banquet, overflowing with sovereign grace.

Nine rounds of wine, a hundred rare delicacies, and the acrobatics, variety acts, song, and dance carefully rehearsed by the Bureau of Instruction to heighten the pleasure.

After this whole set of elaborate formalities, though the body might inevitably feel some fatigue, this flavor of celestial wealth and unhurried ease was a satisfaction that those below could scarcely imagine.

Only, these vermilion gates and purple robes had their own happiness.

And the common folk under heaven, the little people who measure their grain by the sheng and dou, naturally had their own happiness too.

And that happiness, when you got down to it, was precisely what Zhu Youjian truly pursued.

Even though right now, he could not see it with his own eyes at all.

West of the capital, Centurion Ji's estate village.

In the Qian family's little courtyard, the elder brother Qian Changping was bent over at the waist, a smoldering incense stick still glowing with a red spark pinched between his fingers.

One foot probed forward, but the other was braced hard against the ground, ready to spring back at any moment.

That hand holding the incense stick was trembling even more, as if lifting a weight of a thousand catties.

Swaying left and right, he simply could not line it up with that slender fuse.

"Brother, stop letting your hand shake."

Qian Changle stood beneath the eaves, rubbing his red-chapped hands and blowing on them. Watching his elder brother's look of facing a mighty foe, he could not help wanting to laugh.

"Don't… don't yap like a dog! Watch carefully!"

Qian Changping clenched his teeth, and fine beads of sweat actually seeped out on his forehead.

When they were small, lighting the firecrackers had always been their father's job; he had only needed to stand to the side, cover his ears, and laugh loudly.

Later, after father and mother passed away one after the other, the family fortunes declined.

They could no longer afford firecrackers, and could only cut bamboo joints to burn, just to hear the sound.

So although he had been married and established in his own household for several years, this hundred-pop string of firecrackers was still his first time lighting one — how could he not be afraid!

"Tsss—"

A faint sound of burning rose.

A wisp of green smoke curled from the fuse.

As though bitten by a snake, Qian Changping yanked his hand back and turned to flee.

Crack-crack-crack-crack—

Bang! Pop! Bang! The crisp, ringing reports of the firecrackers exploded in an instant.

Red fragments danced in the air, as if a red rain were falling.

That distinctive sulfurous smell of gunpowder spread through the air — choking, yet it made one feel settled inside.

A hundred-pop string of firecrackers sounds like a lot, but in truth it is over in the blink of an eye.

The smoke had not yet cleared, and the ground was already spread with a layer of red.

Qian Changping stood beside his younger brother, looking at the red paper scraps on the ground, pained and exhilarated at once.

"I told you, just finding some bamboo joints to burn would have been fine. You had to spend money on firecrackers. In a blink, all you hear is a noise."

Just then, the elder sister-in-law, Madam Wang, came out of the house carrying a wooden tray.

On the tray were three coarse porcelain cups and a pot of warmed Tusu wine.

Hearing her husband mutter, she set out the cups and said with a smile:

"A-Le's doing well for himself now. Spending a little money to sweep away the bad luck the house has gathered these past years — what does it matter?"

"All right, all right, come quickly and drink the Tusu wine. One cup each; once you drink it, this year is truly past."

This Tusu wine, rather than calling it wine, it would be better to call it medicine.

Rhubarb, white atractylodes, cinnamon twig, saposhnikovia… several medicinal ingredients steeped in liquor — only those who have drunk it know that taste.

Qian Changle stepped forward and lifted a cup.

The liquor was turbid, giving off a strange medicinal odor.

He drew a deep breath and said:

"After we go into the city, I need to stop by the yamen first to pay New Year respects to my superior and pick up last month's salary by the way."

"Once I have the five mace of silver in hand, it'll be just on the way to buy some New Year goods."

With that, he tilted his head back and drained that cup of Tusu wine in one draught.

"Sss—"

A sharp, bitter, and an indescribable earthy rankness instantly shot straight to his head.

Though the Qian family was a little better off now, this Tusu wine was still the cheapest village brew they bought, and the taste was truly awful.

Qian Changle's whole face instantly crumpled into a knot, his features all displaced, his tongue lolling out uncontrollably as he gasped for air. "This taste... every year I drink it, every year I dread it."

The eldest brother, Qian Changping, also raised his cup, but shook his head and said:

"The household expenses don't need your subsidy yet."

"Don't do what you did last month, taking your money to buy rice and coal for the family."

"Save up that meager salary of yours; spending it on socializing with your colleagues is the proper thing to do."

"When you get this month's pay, first go get yourself a decent set of new clothes."

"Since you work in the yamen now, you can't let your colleagues look down on you."

With that, he too raised his cup, gritted his teeth, shut his eyes, and gulped it down with a glug.

When he set the cup down, his originally honest and simple face instantly crumpled like a monkey's backside, baring his teeth and sucking in cold air.

Madam Wang picked up the last cup of wine and chimed in:

"That's right. Now that they've stopped collecting the city gate tax,"

"when we go into the city, whether to sell vegetables or to wash clothes, the silver we take home is a bit more."

"On this one item alone, we have several more mace of silver every month."

"You should keep your own money and save it up to get a wife."

Having said this, she too drained her cup in one go.

And with that, all three members of the family had faces crumpled into bitter gourds.

The three of them looked at each other, and then suddenly burst out laughing in unison.

In truth, this city gate tax had never been a proper tax item. The Great Ming had never had a levy of two cash per person at the nine gates of the capital.

The Emperor of the Great Ming and his court ministers had their eyes on the five-million-tael Liaodong levy, on the hundreds of thousands of taels in horse-price silver and courier-station silver.

At the very least, it had to be the hundred-thousand-tael level of the nine-gate commercial tax.

Whose eyes would ever take notice of a paltry two cash?

But to the common people of the capital, especially those living in the outskirts who made their living by entering the city, these two cash mattered enormously.

Two cash a day, for fifteen trips a month, came to three mace of silver a month, and three qian six mace a year.

Is that a lot? Truly, it is not.

The young masters along the Qinhuai River toss out tips casually, and would be embarrassed to give less than a tael.

Is it a little? It's not so little either.

At current market prices, it is six jin of cotton, seven dou of millet, eighteen jin of pork, thirty hoes, or three hundred and sixty jin of Yongchang coal.

A speck of dust casually flicked away by the Son of Heaven and his lords in the court is, to many common folk, already a benevolent policy that brightens a patch of their sky. "Come in, come in quickly, the water snacks are almost ready."

Madam Wang called out, and the three of them hurried inside.

In the self-built stove in the courtyard burned proper official coal from the Fuel Supply Office.

This coal had strong fire and a light smell, and after Qian Changle passed the exam to become a clerk, it had replaced the inferior coal that Qian Changping dried himself.

The price was a bit higher, but it ultimately spared Qian Changle from carrying a strange odor and being shunned by his colleagues, so it was an expense they had to bear. Madam Wang turned and went to the kitchen, and in a short while, fished out several large bowls of steaming water snacks.

This food is called bian shi in some places, and boiled dumplings in others, but here in the capital they are customarily called water snacks.

The white, plump dough skins, wrapped around a pork and cabbage filling, bobbed up and down in the hot broth, a sight that stirred the appetite at once.

"Eat your snacks quickly, just the thing to rinse your mouths."

Madam Wang set out the bowls and chopsticks. The steaming water snacks, each one wrapped round and full, sat in coarse porcelain bowls.

Qian Changping rubbed his hands together, took his bowl, and wolfed the food down, mumbling indistinctly:

"Good! This year you added more meat, and it really is different! Delicious! Delicious!"

Qian Changle was different. He unhurriedly picked one up with his chopsticks, first blew on the steam, and then took a gentle bite.

It seemed the copper coin was not in this one.

Ever since he could remember, at New Year's, the copper coin wrapped inside the water snacks had always ended up in his bowl.

Even later, when the person wrapping the water snacks changed from his mother to his elder brother, and then later to his sister-in-law, this had never once changed. He ate three in a row, but all were soft, savory meat fillings; he did not get a single cabbage-only one.

A warmth rose in Qian Changle's heart, but he no longer demurred.

Once he passed his probationary period, he would make sure his family had meat at every meal, and then let's see how his sister-in-law could still favor him then!

Qian Changle probed his way through the meal with deliberate, unhurried care.

Until the sixth one.

The moment his chopsticks closed on it, that heavy weight traveled up through the tips.

Qian Changle understood at once. He put it in his mouth, his teeth touched lightly, and he felt that familiar hard object.

"Aiyo!"

Qian Changle cried out in feigned surprise, then spat the copper coin into his palm, his face a mask of exaggerated delight:

"Haha! This year it's me who got it again!"

"Looks like great fortune is coming my way this year!"

His elder brother Qian Changping also beamed, nodding repeatedly:

"Of course! Last year you got it too, and what happened? Sure enough, you passed the exam to become a new clerk!"

"This year you've got it again — that's hitting the mark twice in a row!"

"Wife, tell us, what good thing will this auspicious omen bring about this year?"

Madam Wang, who was at the side adding broth to her husband's bowl, smiled and answered:

"Do you even need to guess? Our A'le isn't young anymore — this year's good fortune is surely bound for taking a wife and having a son!" At these words, Qian Changle's face flushed red to the roots of his neck. Somewhat embarrassed, he muttered,

"Sister-in-law… what are you saying? A true man should put state affairs first — couldn't it just as well be promotion and riches?"

Qian Changping swept his hand grandly through the air and declared with heroic fervor,

"Promotion — we'll take it! A wife — we'll take her too!"

"This is what they call double blessings at the door! For our Qian family, this year — we want both!"

The room filled at once with laughter and cheerful voices.

After the laughter subsided, Qian Changle lowered his head and, using his sleeve, carefully wiped the grease spots from that copper coin.

But as he looked at it, he let out a soft "Huh?"

"Brother, why isn't it that Wanli Tongbao coin this year?"

"Don't they all say old coins work best for apotropaic magic?"

Pointing at the characters on the coin, he asked, puzzled, "This is… Yongchang Tongbao?"

"Where did this coin come from? Has the Ministry of Works opened a mold and cast new coinage? How have I not heard of it?"

Qian Changping, his mouth stuffed with dumplings, replied indistinctly,

"The Ministry of Works couldn't possibly be that fast. These were passed around privately among the fellows before the festival. They say a sage sovereign has come to the world, that heaven and earth take on a new aspect, and that new coins carry this fortune — best suited for apotropaic magic."

"So they cast these coins in secret. They're in high demand on the market now — one coin sells for five wen! And you still need connections to get one!" Qian Changle gripped the copper coin, his brow furrowing slightly. He fell silent for a moment.

During his training, he had forgotten food and sleep, striving with desperate effort, and had achieved second-place results, second only to Wu Yanzuo, who came from a wealthy merchant background. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not take first place, could not seize the honor of entering the palace for an audience with His Majesty.

Some people take first place because first place is the highest there is.

But however brilliantly Wu Yanzuo shone, Qian Changle was not entirely without merits of his own.

In the subject of law, he had passed with a perfect score, outstripping Wu Yanzuo by a full five points.

And the Great Ming Code stipulated that privately casting copper coinage was a grave crime. Even if used solely for apotropaic prayer and blessings, the objects were still contraband.

Seeing his younger brother suddenly fall silent, his expression turning rather grave,

Qian Changping swallowed a few times, then abruptly came to his senses, his face changing color.

"A'le… you… you mustn't go and report this!"

Qian Changping was so agitated he nearly stood up. Lowering his voice, he said,

"They only sold it to me because they saw us as fellow villagers, kith and kin. If you go and report it, that would be…"

"That would be trapping your own brother in dishonor! After that, in these ten li and eight villages, who would dare have anything to do with our family?"

Looking at his elder brother's anxious face, Qian Changle found himself not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

He hastily waved his hands and said, abashed,

"Brother, where is your mind going… It won't come to that, truly it won't."

"I can see this coin's bronze is fine in quality, its characters upright, its finish excellent. I imagine it's simply something the common folk use for apotropaic prayer and blessings."

"It's not like those scoundrel merchants who privately cast debased coins, mixing in lead dust to cheat the people. For such a harmless trifle, why would I report it?" Qian Changping was still not entirely at ease. He fixed his eyes on his brother's.

"Truly?"

Qian Changle rolled his eyes in exasperation and tucked the coin into his bosom.

"Truly! Truer than true gold!"

"We officers of the New Policies may bear supervisory duties, but those are aimed at the great ills of the state, at corrupt officials and venal clerks. How would I dare trouble the Hanlin masters of the Secretariat with such a trivial, chicken-feather, garlic-skin matter? Wouldn't that be asking for a dressing-down?"

At this pledge, the elder brother Qian Changping finally let out a breath of relief.

He picked up his bowl and, with a loud slurp, poured the remaining soup down his throat in one go. Then he stood and wiped his mouth.

"As long as you don't report it. Otherwise, your brother here would have no face left to face the world."

"Eat up quickly. Finish and come out at once."

"Since you must go pay New Year respects to your superiors, it's best to set out early. Don't miss the proper hour and give your superiors a bad impression." With that, he went straight out to make preparations.

Yet what Qian Changping did not know

was that his dearest younger brother, having been steeped for two months in the dye-vat of the capital, was no longer the same.

That promise just now, the promise not to report — it was, in truth… nothing but a lie!