Chapter 335: Borrowing and Lending

"Wenshan, you too want me to think twice?"

In Maoling city, Diwu Lun received yet another admonisher. Looking at his senior fellow apprentice Wang Long, he felt a twinge of emotion.

When Diwu Lun struck at the thirty-three powerful families north of the Wei, Wang Long and his uncle Wang Yuan, being the "tigers" Diwu Lun had used to warn others, had not dared speak up. But today, Wang Long could not help coming to remonstrate, begging Diwu Lun to abandon the burning of the debt contracts that rumor had spread through the Five Tombs.

Wang Long cupped his hands and said: "Tallying tallies and separating contracts are the means by which trust is established. For those who possess households and states, sufficient troops, sufficient food, and the people's trust are essential — and of these, trust is the most important. Contracts are the very instruments of trustworthiness; they must not be burned!"

To Wang Long, Diwu Lun was still willing to speak some truth. After a moment's deliberation, he said: "Wenshan, though you are renowned throughout the Five Tombs for your literary talent, have you ever walked carefully through the villages and looked?"

"Nowadays, the small farmers of Guanzhong mostly belong to households of five. The able-bodied laborers who can work the fields number only two. With the strength of two, the land they can till is no more than a hundred mu, and the harvest from a hundred mu is no more than a hundred-odd dan."

"Plowing in spring, weeding in summer, harvesting in autumn, storing in winter — ordinarily they must also climb the hills to cut firewood, perform corvée labor for the government, and if their luck is bad, they may even be sent off to the Western Sea in Qiang territory, gone for years at a stretch. Two able-bodied laborers then become one. At such times, women, children, the old and the young must all go down to the fields just to secure the harvest."

"The farmer in spring cannot shelter from wind and dust, in summer cannot escape the scorching heat, in autumn cannot avoid the gloomy rains, in winter cannot shun the bitter cold. Not a single day of rest through all four seasons, and only then can he barely meet the needs of food and clothing. One must also reckon in the usual social obligations to relatives, the weddings and funerals, mourning the dead and visiting the sick, raising orphans and rearing the young — within all this, the household has no surplus grain, no saved coin."

"Having toiled so bitterly to this extent, yet the harvest is unstable. They must still worry about floods and droughts striking suddenly, and the government's harsh levies and violent taxes, imposed without regard for the season — especially under the Xin dynasty of Wang Mang, when orders issued at dawn were changed by dusk, and at the slightest pretext, grain was requisitioned based on assessed property, driving countless farming households to ruin and death."

"Thus, whenever natural disaster or man-made calamity strikes, when the new crop is not yet in and the old is exhausted, or when they cannot pay the poll tax, the small farmer must borrow. Those near city walls turn to the 'money-lenders' — that is, usurers — for coin and grain; those in the countryside seek help from the great clans and powerful, wealthy households."

"But the interest is always very high. If they cannot repay by the next year, it compounds. In the end, the interest exceeds the principal, and the small farmer can only sell his fields and dwelling, even sell himself into servitude or become a tenant farmer to settle the debt."

These matters — Wang Long, wholly absorbed in literary pursuits, may have known of them, but expecting him to bend down and carefully understand them in detail was impossible.

After all, most of the time, he merely stood atop Changping Lodge, gazing out with compassion for the world, moved by the passing seasons — writing a fu rhapsody was merely forcing out melancholy. But Diwu Lun, though he too had once ascended towers and pavilions, had, after all, spent the effort to plant his feet on solid ground and investigate carefully among the common people.

"Back when I was in Diwu village, I already bitterly detested the harm that debt brought upon minor branches and collateral lines, and forgave them all, and established a charity granary for emergencies. When I served as Household Officer, traveling through the counties north of the Wei, according to my investigations, in a single village, perhaps the greater half of the people were tenant farmers. The majority of these, because of borrowing, had been forced to sell their fields. Over several generations, the original debt compounded without ever being cleared."

"The tenant farmer keeps only the grain for his own mouth from the harvest; the rest all goes to the creditor. Though he toils so diligently, he dares not borrow again, yet the interest left from those years still rolls ever larger, with no end in sight. He can only do more work to repay — such as serving as a private retainer, or sending his children to be base slaves. And among the thirty-three families north of the Wei, this was worst of all. According to the Grain Colonel's calculations, the interest owed by some tenant households could not be repaid even in ten generations."

He had lent loans, managed loans, investigated loans — even, for the sake of experiment, personally taken out a loan. Diwu Lun could proudly say one thing: "No one understands debt contracts better than I!"

Having said this, Diwu Lun looked at Wang Long and said: "Lending a single dou of grain, and reaping a thousand dan of profit over several generations — this is the trustworthiness you speak of, Wenshan, that must never be destroyed?"

Now, with the thirty-three families crushed, the great clans' confiscated lands had been distributed to the soldiers, and these debt contracts had also fallen into Diwu Lun's hands.

There were only two choices: continue as before, forcing those ten-thousand-odd tenant households to go on enduring bitter toil and offering up tribute, living as de facto serfs.

Or... help them burn away that mountain of debt contracts that had pressed down upon their heads for who knows how many generations, with never a day of hope — with a single torch!

But Wang Long believed this course was far too drastic, and that there was a third choice.

He was indeed thinking for Diwu Lun's sake, and earnestly advised: "Your servant knows the people's suffering, but there is no need to burn them openly. It would be better to seal them in the treasury and simply not pursue interest from the tenant farmers. Otherwise, I fear it will make the powerful families of Guanzhong and the money-lenders of the Five Tombs uneasy, dreading that one day, this fire will burn its way to their own heads."

Wang Long came from a powerful family. With the annihilation of the thirty-three families north of the Wei, even he felt a measure of that "grieve for one's own kind" sentiment — how much more so others?

He said: "If the rich do not lend, the poor will starve. If Your Majesty takes the lead in declaring that debt contracts may be burned and destroyed, who will dare lend in the future? Would that not drive even more impoverished small farmers to their deaths? Wang Mang also bitterly detested the high interest on private loans, and so implemented the Five Equalizations loans, declaring he wanted no interest — yet in the end, it was merely empty words, fattening only corrupt officials and the great merchants of the cities, bringing no benefit whatsoever to the common folk and petty peddlers."

"Your servant fears only that Your Majesty seeks a moment's gratification, but leaves behind endless calamity!"

Diwu Lun disagreed: "In ancient times, Lord Mengchang's retainer burned his contracts, and the people acclaimed him 'ten thousand years,' and Mengchang thus became foremost of the Four Lords. The same act — why, in your mouth, does it become a disaster?"

Because Lord Mengchang burned his own contracts, whereas Diwu Lun was being generous at others' expense!

Wang Long did not dare say this directly, and only bowed his head and said: "That is but the minor art of contrivance — all tributaries of governance, not the wellspring of governance. That is why Lord Mengchang ultimately met ruin and disgrace. When the ruler delights in stratagems, among his ministers and officials, the deceitful and fraudulent will seize the chance to follow suit in deception."

Diwu Lun laughed: "Then in your view, what is the wellspring of governance?"

Wang Long raised his head and answered: "The noble man — he is the wellspring of governance!"

"So long as Your Majesty loves ritual and righteousness, esteems the worthy and capable, and lessens the heart of contrivance, the officials below will also strive to the utmost in deference and loyalty. Then, with noble men as ministers governing the people, there will be trust without waiting for tallying tallies and verifying contracts, impartiality without waiting for drawing lots and casting hooks, fairness without waiting for weighing on scales, uniformity without waiting for leveling with dou and hu measures."

"Thus, without rewards being used, the people are encouraged; without punishments being used, the people submit. The officials do not toil, yet affairs are well-ordered; government decrees are not vexatious, yet customs are refined. The hundred surnames dare not fail to obey the laws of their superiors, emulate the will of their superiors, and strive in the affairs of their superiors — and find peace and joy in it."

"In this way, when foreign enemies invade, the city walls need not await repair to be strong, and blades need not await sharpening to be keen. The Odes say: 'The king's trust is truly steadfast, and the Xu regions have come.' This is what it means."

It seemed hollow, and carried a touch of the literatus's naivety. But say what one will, it was still advising Diwu Lun to put "noble men" — that is, the sons of powerful families — in important positions, protect their interests, and pin his hopes on them to organize the common people and help.

"Relying on the 'hundred surnames' to govern the state?"

Diwu Lun shook his head. This was the route of old Wei Ao, not a path that he, a man of humble clan and minor surname, could walk.

The new interest bloc needed to divide the cake, but the cake was not enough — they could only take the knife to the old powers. Otherwise, they would please neither side.

Since the banquet at Changping Lodge, Diwu Lun had already set out on a thorny road of no return. The core bloc's vested interests were indifferent — after all, only by overturning the old nobility could the new nobility rise. The powerful families of Guanzhong had already been offended by Diwu Lun more than enough. To expect, as Wang Long hoped, that a small concession could trade for their help was sheer naivety.

Better to go all the way to the end. The thirty-three families had at least ten thousand tenant households. With the land rent reduced by ten percent, and the past debt contracts burned — though this still did not count as broadly mobilizing the masses — ten thousand civilian grain porters would be secured. Would that not be far more useful than the "goodwill" of the powerful families?

"Wenshan's earnest concern, I understand."

"But this matter is already decided, known to all. To swallow back into the belly words already spoken — that would truly be a loss of trustworthiness!"

Diwu Lun was not exactly disappointed. Expecting Wang Long to suddenly transcend his class consciousness was rather unlikely. Besides, every word he spoke was out of concern for Diwu Lun — unlike certain people who, watching Diwu Lun "act perversely," were secretly rejoicing.

Wang Long bowed his head and remained silent. He rarely concerned himself with political affairs; it was only that lately he felt Diwu Lun was straying further and further, and his heart was somewhat grieved.

But Wang Long soon raised his head and volunteered: "Since that is the case, to prevent the powerful families and money-lenders who do not know the truth from believing rumors and acting rashly, allow your servant to write a 'Fu on the Burning of the Contracts,' to proclaim this matter for Your Majesty and praise Your Majesty's love for the people. It would also serve to clarify one thing..."

"Your Majesty is targeting only those who pledged allegiance to Liu Bosheng, and does not intend to confiscate and burn the contracts and estates of all the powerful families, wealthy households, and money-lenders of Guanzhong — is that correct?"

He looked at Diwu Lun expectantly, and Diwu Lun also smiled: "That is only natural. This is political struggle. So long as everyone pledges loyalty to Wei, or can even manage to aid neither side and refrain from constantly defecting to Han and colluding with them, I can naturally ensure their interests."

Diwu Lun was of course not so mad as to want to eliminate private lending — even two thousand years later, it would still be alive and well, even increasingly flourishing. But neither could it be left entirely unchecked. Even Wang Mang knew to attempt regulation; though he failed, was he, a true transmigrator, inferior to a fake transmigrator?

The King of Wei helped up his Minister of Ceremonies and said: "The caltrop has just formed its husk, its leaves are thick and lush. Close are loving brothers; let none be far or estranged. In summoning you here, Wenshan, I did indeed have the intention of having you compose a fu. Truly, one's own fellow apprentices are the ones to rely on."

He then clasped his arm and said: "Feng Jingtong has gone south into Shu. After spring begins, he may be able to bring Senior Brother Hou back with him. When that time comes, the three of us, disciples of Master Ziyun, will once again gather together under one roof, drinking and talking with delight, just as we did back in Xuanming village!"

Wang Long, too, looked forward to that day. He assented and took his leave. Diwu Lun smiled as he bid him farewell, but watching Wang Long's figure recede through the courtyard, his hand slowly lowered, and he felt a faint trace of helplessness.

Such is the road of life: those who once shared your aspirations may one day go their separate ways.

Diwu Lun felt that it was better for Wang Long to focus on collating the classics and the odes and documents.

And was it not the same for Wang Long? In a place beyond Diwu Lun's sight, he halted his steps, raised his sleeve, and wiped away the tears that had burst from his eyes.

Though Wang Long was wholeheartedly concerned for the stability of Diwu's Wei, and was even willing to go against his own heart to proclaim this matter for Diwu Lun — he would never betray his fellow apprentice and old friend — Wang Long still could not understand.

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"How have the powerful families and prominent surnames become stumbling blocks for the King of Wei, to be denounced and attacked at every turn? Yes, some are rich yet unkind, harmful to the people's livelihood. There were originally many means to slowly reform — why use such drastic methods?"

"By His Majesty's side, I fear, petty men like Rong Yifu have appeared!"

Jing Dan, Ren Guang, and their sort were quite supportive of Diwu Lun in this matter. Wang Long felt that Diwu Lun, who had acted moderately in the past, had been influenced by them.

"Minister of Ceremonies..."

Ban Biao, a minor figure unqualified to have an audience with the King of Wei, was waiting outside for Wang Long. The two of them got along quite well in conversation — so long as Ban Biao did not reveal his intention to restore the Han.

Wang Long gave a bitter smile and shook his head. He said no more, only telling Ban Biao to return with him to Yueyang. They would bury themselves in books and pay no heed to outside affairs — only then could their hearts find some ease.

Ban Biao, knowing that Wang Long's remonstrance had failed, turned his head once more to gaze into the city of Maoling.

Towering flames shot up, their smoke columns rising higher than the rooftops and city walls. Those were the tens of thousands of debt contracts from thirty-three houses, cast into the fierce fire. The interest and burdens that had weighed upon those ten thousand households for who knows how many generations all turned into wisps of light blue smoke and drifted away on the wind.

"Long live the King of Wei!"

Cheers rang out through Maoling. The elders of the countryside and the senior representatives among the tenant farmers from the Five Tombs, summoned to witness the spectacle, all gave heartfelt praise — though whether it came from the heart, or from shills arranged by Diwu Lun's men, Ban Biao could not tell. He suspected the latter.

As for the powerful families, great merchants, and moneylenders who had come from inside and outside the city to see the excitement, their faces bore strange expressions.

Ban Biao only stared at the smoke and fire, shaking his head in secret.

"When Diwu Lun defeated Liu Bosheng last time, it was mere coincidence — a stroke of luck, not destiny."

"But this time, Diwu Lun's arrogance has reached such a pitch, turning the world upside down and destroying all trust. I fear he truly will find himself beset by troubles within and without, and under the iron hooves of the Wei clan's cavalry, he will collapse in utter ruin!"

PS: Chapter 2 at 18:00.