Chapter 684: The Shaanxi Salt Merchant

The sixth day of the first lunar month.

Sun Zhensheng, a Tribute Student of Sanyuan and a wealthy merchant, brought along his son, Xiucai Sun Zhiwei, and bearing a name-card personally issued by the Marshal's headquarters for enlightened gentry, crossed the Xianyang ferry and entered the city of Xi'an.

The entire journey was unimpeded.

That word was not a compliment at this time.

The frontier soldiers of the Marshal's headquarters had entered Xi'an Prefecture, and everywhere they looked, they saw bustling prosperity.

But for Sun Zhensheng, who had long resided in Sanyuan, everywhere he looked, he saw scenes of decay.

What kind of place was Xianyang?

It was the foremost water-land port in the northwest. From Xianyang to Xi'an, the road was lined with the shops of traveling merchants. Grain, timber, hides, official tea — all manner of goods were carried here by pack animals from every county and then shipped by water to Shanxi and Henan.

In years past, who had ever heard of entering or leaving Xi'an Prefecture without obstruction?

The sound of hoofbeats behind him interrupted his reverie. Without time to look closely, he hurriedly pulled his son aside to the edge of the road.

Across the long street was the former Prince of Qianyang's estate. Its dust-covered vermilion gate stood half-open, revealing a courtyard overgrown with withered grass and a grand three-bay, five-rafter front gate tower.

Only then did Sun Zhensheng notice a patrol of over ten elite cavalrymen from the Marshal's headquarters riding through the city.

The Hexi horses, clad in half-barding armor and iron faceplates, advanced with the crisp jingle of their bridle bells, an overwhelming pressure bearing down on them.

The cavalrymen on horseback were all dressed in red cloth-faced armor with iron arm-guards, still in the frontier army style with goose-quill sabers hung before their saddles and large composite bows behind, with over ten three-foot-long arrows stuck in their quivers — the only difference being a foreign-style flintlock pistol holstered in a leather sheath on each side of the horse's neck.

However, their cloth-faced iron armor was a size larger, and through the seams one could see a fur lining had been added. The neck-guards and helmet plumes of their bowl-shaped helmets, as well as the collars, cuffs, and hems of their armor, were all fluffy with fur.

It looked extremely warm.

His son Sun Zhiwei, who held the rank of Xiucai and was only fifteen, waited until the city patrol had passed, then stared at the cavalrymen's retreating figures and gave a cold snort. "Strutting with arrogance!"

"Ba'ger, don't speak rashly. What our family could do, we have already done to the fullest."

Sun Zhensheng showed neither a fearful demeanor nor a look of resentment. He merely shook his head and said, "The world is ever-changing. Since we have come to Xi'an, don't dwell on those things anymore."

Truly, the world was ever-changing.

Sun Zhensheng had studied since childhood, but had failed to obtain any official rank. Together with his clan brothers, he had become immensely wealthy by trading Huai salt, establishing numerous properties in Yangzhou, and even purchased the sinecure title of Fengyi Dafu. He was now fifty-five years old.

He had eight sons, five of whom were in Yangzhou, following their uncles in business. Two years ago, because his eighth son, Sun Zhiwei, was to take the county-level examination, he had brought the boy back to his native place to sit for the exam.

It had originally been a matter of great joy. His son was a little prodigy, only fifteen, and had passed the exam in one attempt, becoming an attached student of the county school and earning the rank of Xiucai, making a name for himself in Sanyuan!

This brought more honor and face to the old father than any amount of money earned in Yangzhou!

Unexpectedly, they happened upon Liu Chengzong's eastern campaign. The calamity of war threw Chang'an into chaos, the Tong Pass road was blockaded, and father and son suddenly found themselves unable to return.

Faced with the national crisis, Sun Zhensheng did not stand by idly. He sold off all his remaining assets in Sanyuan and donated the funds to support the local militia in taking the field. Even Sun Zhiwei, due to the wide circle of friends he had made after passing the exam, was drawn into the militia.

In the end, this army set out on the first day, and by the afternoon of the second day, they had been routed utterly.

Fortunately, Sun Zhiwei was not injured. He had not even lasted until the landlord forces engaged the Mongol cavalry. Marching in the dark on the first night, he had fallen into a ditch and been knocked senseless.

In fact, it was soldiers from Mo Yujing's unit of the Marshal's headquarters who discovered him the next morning while grazing their horses. They brought him to the main camp, and upon inquiring and learning he was a Xiucai from Sanyuan, sent two men to escort him home.

At the time, Mo Yujing was unaware that Sanyuan had organized a militia. He sent the boy home in the morning, and it was only in the afternoon that the Mongol cavalry clashed with the landlord forces.

The battle was a complete mess, but for Sun Zhensheng, it mattered little. He had simply done his part, and scattering his family fortune was of no consequence — he had never had many properties in his old home of Sanyuan to begin with.

However, a sense of disillusionment was unavoidable.

In truth, after the gentry's armed forces were defeated and Xi'an opened its gates, Sun Zhensheng had been planning to pack up, leave the pass, and move to Yangzhou, never to return.

Even when Ye Ding, the puppet official of the Marshal's headquarters in Sanyuan County, proclaimed that enlightened gentry were invited to Xi'an Prefecture to discuss important matters, he never thought it applied to him.

In Sanyuan, where literary culture flourished, retired officials clustered, and wealthy merchants were counted by the group, Sun Zhensheng was not the biggest in trade, his scholarly rank did not place him high, and as for property, he had already given it all away.

He did not think this matter had anything to do with him. He merely thought that if the Marshal's headquarters truly came to demand wealth and goods, his family having no surplus, he could only die.

So in his heart, he rather hoped that people like Wang Zheng and Jiao Yuanpu could hold the line in front.

Yet, as it turned out, that young Magistrate Ye, for whatever reason, had come looking for him first.

And he was remarkably easy to talk to. First, he did not want his money; second, he did not want his life. He simply said that Sun was a renowned, officially titled merchant prince, and expressed the hope of recommending him to the central authority of the Marshal's headquarters to understand the commercial environment of Shaanxi and offer advice and strategies for the headquarters' commercial affairs.

It all seemed rather... almost legitimate.

For one thing, Sun Zhensheng dared not refuse.

For another, he was a merchant.

No merchant under heaven could refuse the commercial environment of the Marshal's headquarters.

The Marshal's headquarters could turn any private industry into an official monopoly. Coming from a salt merchant background, Sun Zhensheng certainly understood what that meant — exorbitant profits with no competitors.

It was precisely this prospect of exorbitant profits that had lured him into the city of Xi'an Prefecture.

The Suns, father and son, presented their name-card at the Xi'an Prefectural Office and were subsequently settled into the Prince of Yongshou's estate across from the office to rest, awaiting summons.

The Prince of Yongshou's estate was in the same state as the Prince of Qianyang's estate, both having become neglected, decaying places. This one was even worse off than the Prince of Qianyang's estate, as even its plaque had been taken down.

But it was still a prince's estate. The Suns, father and son, dared not wander about at all. After being settled into a side room, they did not even dare to step outside the door.

It was not until the afternoon, when a Guard of the Feathered Forest called out in the courtyard, that they followed him all the way into the former Prince of Qin's estate.

Only then, upon hearing the Feathered Forest Guard say that the Grand Marshal was summoning them, did Sun Zhensheng realize that Ye Ding's so-called recommendation to the central authority was actually a direct recommendation to Liu Chengzong.

The group passed the Heaven-Earth Altar outside the palace and saw several hundred soldiers transporting stone materials, clearly making preparations for a Heaven-worshipping ceremony.

Watching this scene, father and son both felt complex emotions in their hearts and dared not speak much, merely lowering their heads and hurrying on.

They then heard the Feathered Forest Cavalryman guiding them instruct, "The Grand Marshal is currently meeting with the military examinees from the two counties. When you see the Grand Marshal later, you need not kowtow, just offer a greeting. That will save the Grand Marshal the trouble of having to help you up."

This statement was half-truth. That there was no need to kowtow was true, but if others did kowtow, Liu Chengzong could not possibly help each one up; at most, he would say a word of "please rise."

The Suns, father and son, entered a side hall to wait. Not long after, they heard several people walking quickly along the covered wind-and-rain corridor.

A voice said, "Feng Chaoyu, Zhao Deshou, and Chen Minshi from Chang'an have good martial skills, and there's also Zhang Yong from Xianning. Barely past twenty, his riding and archery are also excellent."

"Check if these men have clean backgrounds. If there are no issues, recruit them into the Feathered Forest Camp."

As they spoke, the footsteps had already reached the door. They saw a warrior push open the hall door, and a heroic young man with a short beard around his mouth entered the hall, accompanied by the cold air of the outer court and surrounded by attendants.

This man handed his lynx-fur robe to an attendant. He wore a leather pleated tunic pressed with subtle patterns and a goose-quill saber at his waist. He glanced at the father and son, then walked straight over to them and stretched out both hands to warm them by the brazier.

Only then did he say, "I am Liu Chengzong. Are you Uncle Zhensheng and Balang from Sanyuan?"

This overly familiar greeting froze Sun Zhensheng in place, but he recovered his composure in an instant, completely forgetting the Plumed Forest Cavalry's instructions. He immediately stepped back and was about to prostrate himself: "Indeed, this commoner pays respects to—"

Before he could finish, Liu Chengzong reached out and held him up. "No need for such grand ceremony. Since you're here, let's talk business."

"I heard from Ye Ding that the Sun family are salt merchants from Yangzhou. With the borders sealed now, how great is the impact on your trade?"

Sun Zhensheng froze again at these words. He had no idea how to explain to Liu Chengzong that the family estate in Yangzhou was managed by family members there, while the family estate in Sanyuan… had been thrown away in a single stroke to fund his militia.

He shook his head. "In reply to the Grand Marshal, my family has little business in Sanyuan. There is no impact."

The Shaanxi salt merchants were a vast consortium. In the early years, they had occupied a crucial link in the empire's salt industry, but they did not actually sell salt.

Their role was to supply military grain to the Three Frontiers and Five Garrisons through the Open-Certificate system in exchange for salt certificates, which they then sold to salt merchants.

This was also why Shaanxi salt merchants were mostly found on the Guanzhong tablelands — their primary identity was that of great landowners.

However, after the Open-Certificate system was once abolished, a large number of imperial nobles invested in the salt industry. Using their status to pressure salt officials, they repeatedly drew salt with a single certificate and also enjoyed priority when redeeming official salt by virtue of their rank.

This blurred the line between official salt and private salt.

In reality, this was the court, in response to a fiscal crisis, selling off the salt industry wholesale to imperial relatives and nobles, and overdrawing on credit.

Ordinary merchants, unable to compete with their privileged peers, withdrew one after another. Some stopped dealing in salt altogether, while a few stubborn ones began trafficking in private salt.

This aristocratic monopoly also quickly collapsed. The court was forced to restore the Open-Certificate system and also incorporated the private salt that merchants bought from saltern households, calling it surplus salt, which was bundled and sold mixed with official salt.

After all this turmoil, the items a salt merchant needed to pay for went from one to three: the grain and funds for the Open-Certificate system, the capital to buy surplus salt, and the surplus salt tax payable to the local prefectural authorities after purchase.

This revenue provided the Great Ming with one and a half million taels of silver annually, while also partially solving the grain supply problem for the border garrisons — only that both the frontier merchants and the salt merchants were left much weakened.

In this process, Shaanxi merchants once again became collaborators in the salt industry as frontier merchants, exchanging grain for certificates and certificates for money.

This was the situation before the Wanli era.

Half of the Great Ming's salt was administered by the Lianghuai Salt Distribution Commission. This department had a total of sixty officials and one hundred clerks — against its enormous responsibilities, its operations were already strained to the limit.

And during the Wanli reign, when large numbers of vacant official posts went unfilled, the Salt Distribution Commission could not remain unaffected. The salt industry's next collapse was naturally only a matter of time.

What was more, the Wanli Emperor once again issued vast quantities of salt certificates to imperial relatives and nobles. Under this colossal overdrawing of credit, the salt industry collapsed once more, triggering the starvation of the border armies during the Tianqi and Chongzhen years.

At the same time, it rendered the border garrison salt certificates worthless. A single certificate fell to a few candareens of silver, a mere tenth of its official price, and still no one came to buy.

Against this backdrop, Shaanxi merchants, holding large quantities of salt certificates with nowhere to sell them, could only migrate south in droves to Yangzhou and become salt merchants themselves.

Sun Zhensheng was one of those who, at that time, took his salt certificates and rushed to Yangzhou, where he built up his family fortune.

Liu the Lion remained noncommittal about his claim of "no impact." He knew perfectly well that Sun Zhensheng had sold fourteen rooms and fifty mu of land back then to fund the landlord militia.

This was not to say Sun Zhensheng had no money, but rather that selling off land to fund a militia provided greater prestige and conversational capital.

In his understanding, this was not a move forced by circumstance, but Sun Zhensheng building momentum for his son who had just passed the county exam.

But times had changed, and Liu Chengzong had no need to bring that up. He simply asked, "What are your thoughts on the current state of the Shaanxi salt industry?"

Sun Zhensheng hastily shook his head.

He truly had no thoughts whatsoever. Salt was not like other commodities — it had always been a government monopoly.

In the Great Ming, it was even more exceptional. In the early years, the Open-Certificate system had greatly helped stabilize grain prices on the frontier, once keeping them steady at four to five qian of silver per shi.

But later, because the court lacked sincerity and treated it as a tool for amassing wealth, constantly overdrawing its credit, it ruined the salt laws and likewise brought about the disastrous collapse of the frontier grain market — with devastating effect.

Right now, the Marshal's Manor did not even have a salt law in Shaanxi. How could Sun Zhensheng dare to have any thoughts? He merely said, "This commoner has no understanding of the Shaanxi salt industry, but I do have ideas regarding tea, hides, coal, paper, timber, lacquer, mushrooms, wood-ear, and medicinal herbs. If the Grand Marshal wishes to invite merchants and establish factories…"

Before he could finish, Liu Chengzong shook his head. "Elder Sun, what I need are not merchants, but officials well-versed in commerce."

Having said this, Liu Chengzong turned his head to look at Sun Zhensheng and asked, "This wood-ear business you mentioned — what exactly is it?"

"Oh, that is wood-ear fungus, similar to mushrooms. Both are specialties of the Qinba Mountains. The natives in places like Shangnan and Hanzhong set up farms, felling rosewood and oak to make ear-rack frames. The next year, the ears grow, yielding profit for three years. After three years, the newly grown timber can be used for racks again. In past years, traveling merchants all came to purchase, reaping considerable profits."

As Sun Zhensheng spoke of this, his mind was racing over what Liu Chengzong had said about needing officials well-versed in commerce, and his heart could not help but stir greatly.

He could not resist saying to Liu Chengzong, "The Grand Marshal possesses abundant green salt. If you implement a grain-for-salt Open-Certificate system, the trade routes will open of their own accord, and the salt pools and border garrisons will prosper day by day…"

The more Sun Zhensheng spoke, the quieter his voice became, and a chill spread through his heart.

The Shaanxi grain-for-salt Open-Certificate system he was familiar with was built on the foundation that the Three Frontiers and Five Garrisons had large troop garrisons while local grain production was insufficient.

The destroyer of that entire environment was right before his eyes. He had pulled all the border troops out — where was the need for a grain-for-salt Open-Certificate system anymore?

Wouldn't saying this make him appear utterly ignorant of the situation, exceptionally ridiculous?

Yet unexpectedly, Liu Chengzong did not mock him. Instead, he listened very attentively. Seeing him pause, he urged in an even tone, "Go on."

Sun Zhensheng dared not continue. He merely shook his head. "The Grand Marshal's border garrison troops do not seem to need grain supplied through the Open-Certificate system."

"The Three Frontiers and Five Garrisons may not need it, but the lands south and north of the Gobi do. Even if there is no need for grain supply, the salt certificate system can still work."

Liu Chengzong nodded. "What you said about trade routes opening on their own and daily prosperity — that is very useful to the Marshal's Manor."

Sun Zhensheng, however, showed a troubled expression. "Since the border troops rioted over pay, private salt has taken root everywhere in Shaanxi. I fear rebuilding the official salt industry will not be easy."

"Smuggling? Heh. Heh."

Liu Chengzong could not help but laugh. He waved his hand dismissively. "No matter. In these times, nothing is easy. Since you have ideas, I hereby appoint you as Salt Inspection Censor. Your office will be at the Tea Inspection Court next door to Prince Yongshou's mansion. I will also allocate some personnel. First, thoroughly investigate the salt industry — things like the salt consumption volume and number of saltern households in each circuit, an appropriate price for salt certificates, and so on."

He estimated that if a salt certificate system were implemented in Shaanxi, the profits would certainly not be as high as in the past when the authorities in He-Huang distributed green salt — after all, this would be selling salt certificates, not selling salt.

But the benefits brought by unimpeded trade routes were also considerable.

Moreover, with their territory now far larger than He-Huang, even if the unit price were lower, the official sale of salt certificates could probably still bring in around two hundred thousand taels of revenue.

If the efficiency of cracking down on private salt were high, this revenue could be pushed even higher.

"In a few days, bring the specific regulations for me to review."