Chapter 151: City of Sorrow

In the second hall of the Liang-Huai Salt Transport Commissioner's office in Yangzhou, Transport Commissioner Hu Tinglu and Salt Inspector Censor Song Sizhang were discussing how to respond to the matter in Huai'an.

Hu Tinglu sat in his armchair with a grim face, racking his brains for a solution, while Song Sizhang across from him sighed repeatedly.

The Huai'an Salt Distribution Office had been wiped out in one fell swoop by the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and both men smelled danger.

After receiving Yang Rui's report concerning the smuggling of private salt across the border for dumping, although he and Song Sizhang had jointly submitted a memorial to the court, they hadn't taken it seriously at all.

Being in the middle of it himself, he shared the same judgment as Salt Inspector Censor Song Sizhang—both believed this was someone in the capital who, covetous of the enormous profits of Huai salt, was trying to muscle in for a share of the spoils.

In his view, such a move was utterly laughable.

Even if the other party had the most formidable backing, trying to snatch chestnuts from the fire in the Jiang-Huai region, where the salt merchants had long since greased every connection up and down, would surely end in defeat after exhausting every scheme.

Trying to grab money from salt merchants who were the wealthiest under heaven—was this asking for trouble? How could the salt merchants possibly agree to that?

After submitting his memorial, Hu Tinglu summoned several of the major salt merchants with whom he had close ties, deliberately leaked the news to them, and stated that besides petitioning the court to apply pressure from above, he also planned to muster the salt guards from several patrol inspection offices to strike the other party a head-on blow by force.

Upon hearing the news, the salt merchants were all shocked and enraged, each privately wondering who on earth was so bold as to snatch food from a tiger's mouth.

After receiving the Transport Commissioner's official statement, the salt merchants were all deeply grateful. They expressed one after another that they would contribute money and men, follow the Commissioner's arrangements, and no matter who stood behind the other party, they would uproot them entirely to eliminate the future threat.

Within a few days, the salt merchants clustered in Yangzhou and Huai'an received word of the matter. The threshold of Hu Tinglu's door was nearly worn flat from visitors—salt merchants vied to come pay their respects, expressing their support for Commissioner Hu's righteous act in the form of hard cash and silver, stating that the money was reward money for the patrol inspection salt guards to seize smuggled salt, and requesting that Commissioner Hu distribute the bounty on behalf of the authorities to boost the salt guards' morale.

These words were all just face-saving rhetoric; everyone knew full well who so much silver was really meant for. Before the salt guards had even been mustered, Hu Tinglu had already pocketed the salt merchants' generous gifts.

Just as everyone's enthusiasm was running high, Yang Rui's and Huang Can's homes in Yangzhou were raided by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

When his servant reported that the Embroidered Uniform Guard had swept Yang and Huang's properties clean and had boarded a boat with both families' dependents to leave Yangzhou, Hu Tinglu sensed that things were taking a bad turn.

His original guess about smuggled salt crossing the border had evidently been wrong. This was by no means a minor matter of dumping private salt—it was a conspiracy aimed at the entire Liang-Huai salt industry, with the Transport Commissioner's office bearing the brunt of it. The other party was like a vicious wolf hidden in the grass, ready to spring out and bite hard at any moment.

If the other party merely wanted to encroach on the Liang-Huai salt industry, Hu Tinglu would have adopted a couldn't-care-less attitude.

Because as long as someone else joined the fray, he—as the master tending this money tree—stood to gain no small benefit either way.

It was no different from what had happened back when the Huizhou merchants wanted to enter the Liang-Huai salt trade and compete for market share with the long-established Shanxi-Shaanxi salt merchants.

The Transport Commissioner, who held the dominant hand, became the object both sides vied to curry favor with. He feasted first on one side, then the other—win or lose, the entire Transport Commissioner's office came away stuffed with benefits.

But back then, both sides had first mobilized their connections at court to get the bigwigs in the government to speak up for them, and second spent fortunes to bribe the office's officials—neither side had resorted to force to settle the matter.

What was clearly different this time was that the other party—who knew what immortals they were—had actually managed to get the Embroidered Uniform Guard to make a move. Could they be members of the imperial household?

The involvement of that behemoth, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, made Hu Tinglu feel real, personal danger.

The path Hu Tinglu had originally greased was through the then Chief Grand Secretary Zhou Yanru. He and Zhou Yanru were maternal cousins—Zhou Yanru called Hu Tinglu "elder cousin."

After Zhou Yanru became Chief Grand Secretary in the second year of Chongzhen, Hu Tinglu—who had passed the jinshi examination in the forty-first year of Wanli but had been stuck in the lower and middle ranks ever since—finally turned his luck around, rising by leaps and bounds until in the fourth year of Chongzhen he secured this lucrative post of the fourth rank.

In the sixth year of Chongzhen, Zhou Yanru was outmaneuvered by Wen Tiren, and in a fit of rage Chongzhen dismissed him from the chancellorship and sent him back to his hometown. For a time afterward, Hu Tinglu was terrified, afraid his cousin's enemies would kick him out of his position.

But because Wen Tiren lacked sufficient prestige and seniority and was of a spiteful nature, he was kept busy trading blows with the court's senior ministers and never got around to dealing with Hu Tinglu. Moreover, Zhou Yanru had been well-liked during his tenure, and the court ministers still remembered his kindness; added to the fact that Hu Tinglu sent very generous gifts at every festival and New Year, he managed to hold on to his position.

As his family fortune grew at an astonishing rate each year, Hu Tinglu, while feeling immensely pleased with himself, also began to harbor a vague desire to retire and return home sooner rather than later.

It wasn't that he feared being called to account by the emperor or the court. Because the entire Ming officialdom operated this way—whoever had the ability used it, and whatever position you held, you skimmed money accordingly. This had long since become an unspoken rule.

Even if he were attacked by political enemies and forced into retirement, his family fortune wouldn't be affected in the slightest.

Nearing sixty, he had spent years living a life of luxury and dissipation, and his body now often felt weary. Moreover, in the past two years he felt that the emperor and the court seemed to have undergone some new change—what exactly, he couldn't say, but his intuition told him the wind in officialdom was shifting.

When it was time to pull back, one had to be decisive. A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall. A few more tribute payments from the salt merchants would be enough—Hu Tinglu often thought to himself. As long as his descendants didn't produce a spendthrift, the silver he'd pocketed in five years in office would be enough for several generations, even ten, to squander.

Yet precisely at this moment, an unexpected upheaval descended from the heavens.

Now Hu Tinglu only wanted to resolve this trouble as quickly as possible, then resolutely submit a memorial begging to return home and retire. As long as he retired in peace, he'd have landed safely—the court had no tradition of settling accounts after the fact.

Song Sizhang's constant sighing grated on Hu Tinglu's nerves as he tried to think of a solution, but since the two of them were grasshoppers tied to the same rope, he couldn't very well lash out at him.

So he suppressed his anger and spoke up to console him: "Wenhua, why must you carry on so! What you and I just discussed was merely thinking of the worst-case scenario. This matter is far from our doom. What we must do now is figure out how to respond. Don't forget—those salt merchants are no pushovers either. Now that someone has come knocking at their door, would they be willing to let it go so easily?"

Song Sizhang had placed in the second tier of the metropolitan examination in the fourth year of Chongzhen. After a year of observation at the Ministry of Personnel, he'd been assigned to the Censorate, and the year before last he'd greased his connections to secure his current post. In recent years he, too, had been intoxicated in the soft embrace of Jiangnan.

Upon hearing Hu Tinglu's words, he leaned forward in his chair, staring intently at Hu Tinglu, and said: "Old Commissioner, do you think Yang Rui and Huang Can can keep their mouths shut in the hands of the Embroidered Uniform Guard? If those two start wildly implicating people, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard, greedy as wolves, gets a taste—would they stop there? However wide the salt merchants' connections may be, they only extend to the court above. How could the salt merchants possibly sway the Imperial Guard! You and I may well end up meeting Yang and Huang in the Imperial Prison one day!"

Besides the usual tribute from the salt merchants, he'd also accepted no small amount of benefits from Yang Rui and Huang Can over the years.

Although bribery was a secret everyone in Ming officialdom knew about, if those above truly decided to pursue it, it would be very hard to settle amicably. Spending a fortune to smooth things over and then being dismissed into retirement counted as a good outcome—that was still the result of being dealt with by the court. Civil officials always left each other some leeway, lest they one day find themselves in the same position.

But this time, the Embroidered Uniform Guard had acted on their own, bypassing the court entirely—it was very likely the matter had already reached His Majesty's ears. The outcome was all too easy to imagine.

Hu Tinglu was equally at his wit's end. Zhou Yanru had fallen from power over three years ago, and he had no other support at court. Even with all the silver in the world, he had no door through which to send it, and he couldn't think of anyone who might have a say with the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

The atmosphere in the second hall was extremely heavy. Contemplating the possible consequences, both men sank into deep despair.

Song Sizhang suddenly broke the silence, asking: "Old Commissioner, what do Cheng Fang, Wang Fu, and the others have to say? Besides contributing silver a few days ago to fund the salt guards, do they have any plan to deal with the Huai'an Salt Distribution Office affair?"

The Cheng Fang, Wang Fu, and others Song Sizhang referred to were all Huizhou-native salt merchants who had close dealings with Hu Tinglu on a daily basis. Each was worth millions, moved in wide circles, and enjoyed considerable renown in Jiangnan officialdom.

Besides direct supervisory offices like the Transport Commissioner's office, Cheng, Wang, and the others also maintained close relations with powerful figures such as the Nanjing Garrison eunuch, the Nanjing Garrison military commander, the Nanjing Minister of War, and the Yingtian Prefect. Whatever incident arose in the Jiangnan region, these men could mobilize their connections to resolve it.

Although the Shanxi-Shaanxi salt merchants were also enormously wealthy, their nature was boorish and crude, their speech and conduct rough and blunt—very much not to the taste of Hu Tinglu, who fancied himself a refined scholar. So aside from festival and New Year tribute, Hu Tinglu had little to do with them.

Most Huizhou merchants had studied in their clan's private schools from childhood and always prided themselves on their elegance; their conduct was indistinguishable from that of literati. For this reason they found greater favor in Hu Tinglu's eyes. The several beautiful "thin horses of Yangzhou" in his household had also been gifts from Huizhou merchants. The two sides interacted frequently and regarded each other as kindred spirits.

Hu Tinglu nodded in reply: "I notified Cheng Fang, Wang Fu, and the others yesterday. Cheng Fang has already sent his household steward with a heavy sum of gold to Nanjing overnight to call on Garrison eunuch Zhang Yixian, Eunuch Zhang, as well as Nanjing Garrison Commander, Earl Xin Chengbo, and others, urging these several superiors to use their connections with His Majesty and the palace to dissolve this matter. If it ultimately succeeds, you and I must deeply appreciate their kindness!"

After hearing this, Song Sizhang breathed a slight sigh of relief. Those Huizhou merchants truly were righteous men steeped in the wisdom of the sages—at this critical moment, they'd stepped forward to help. He truly owed them an enormous debt of gratitude.

If Zhang Yixian could really be persuaded to step forward, there might still be hope of turning this around, because the eunuchs in the palace had close ties with the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Zhang Yixian, having risen from brush-holder in the Directorate of Ceremonial, had to stand in attendance at court assemblies, and the inner court personnel and the Embroidered Uniform Guard's Regional Military Commissioner were all like servants of the imperial household—it was common for them to cross paths in their daily affairs.

Hu Tinglu and Song Sizhang were like frogs in slowly warming water, unaware that the fire beneath the cauldron was about to blaze fiercely. All their hopes and fantasies were about to become nothing but vain wishes.

In truth, their behavior was simply the customary practice that had formed in officialdom over the years—at critical moments, one went around kowtowing and begging for help, hoping some noble patron would come to the rescue and see one through the crisis.

Everyone did it this way, and in the end it usually benefited them—even if convicted, their punishment would be greatly reduced.

What they didn't know was that this time they were dealing with a ruthless master who was dead set on taking them down. Even if they found the Jade Emperor himself to plead for them, it would be useless.

Hu Tinglu and Song Sizhang were now like three-year-old children clutching a fortune in gold as they walked through a bustling market—their fate was all too easy to foresee.