Chapter 932

Sun Yuanzhen immediately proposed his idea: "Once Haigang is built, Zhejiang's textile industry will expand by more than three times its current scale, absorbing a great deal of labor in the process—not to mention the surrounding economy the port will stimulate; I can guarantee the refugee problem will be fully resolved."

Pan Yun asked: "Is this about turning refugees into workers, or turning farmers into workers?"

Sun Yuanzhen fell silent.

Pan Yun continued: "I've heard that dye workers in Zhejiang earn less than eighteen cash per day, and even then, dye houses deduct about three cash as 'management fees.' Dye workers fall ill easily; with fifteen cash a day, they can barely feed themselves, let alone support a family—and if they fall sick, it becomes unbearable."

"My lord, whether you turn refugees into workers or farmers into workers, you must guarantee them adequate security. If they cannot support their elderly parents or raise their wives and children, this temporary calm is merely brewing a greater disaster."

Yang Zan quickly said: "My colleague Sun and I have discussed this—we're currently focusing on turning refugees into workers, giving them work first to stabilize them, then raising wages and fixing a minimum salary by law."

Sun Yuanzhen also nodded: "The government will lead by example—the wages for building Haigang will be two to five cash higher than current rates. Afterward, I will personally meet with major merchants and set a minimum wage before issuing official orders."

The imperial court rarely issues edicts on such minor details, and even when it does, local authorities rarely comply—so local governance holds authority.

Formulating these regulations is not difficult for local governments.

Precisely because of this authority, they can impose additional taxes and levies beyond those mandated by the court.

But Pan Yun was not satisfied, so she lowered her eyes and sipped tea in silence.

Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan exchanged a glance, unsure what else Pan Yun found lacking.

Though they had only met for a quarter-hour, Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan had already determined: this State Preceptor was neither a fame-seeker nor a greedy money-grubber.

When speaking of the people's suffering, she spoke with genuine sincerity—and besides, the encounter with Xue Shao on the stairs just now…

People say birds of a feather flock together; since Pan Yun and Xue Shao are close friends, they must be the same kind of person.

Information on the State Preceptor was scarce, but information on Xue Shao was abundant.

After piecing it together with their earlier conversation, Sun Yuanzhen instantly understood: this State Preceptor felt it still wasn't enough.

He paused briefly, then said: "Fixing a minimum wage by law alone still isn't enough security. I will consult further with the Provincial Revenue officials to devise additional measures."

Pan Yun said: "The people greatly misunderstand Emperor Taizu; they believe he cruelly executed his meritorious ministers…"

Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan tensed, looking up at Pan Yun; behind them, their aides lost their composure, faces pale, eyes darting nervously toward their masters.

But Pan Yun remained calm: "In my view, it was understandable."

She said: "Emperor Taizu rose from the common people; he knew the people's suffering and understood that land was their foundation. At the founding of the empire, those who had claimed to overthrow tyranny and protect the people now seized vast tracts of land after gaining power—acting no better than Yuan soldiers. How could Your Majesty not be furious? How could he not hate it?"

Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan listened without changing expression, but their hearts stirred—they understood.

To be honest, this was also Yang Zan's own deep concern.

He stared intently at Pan Yun, so excited he nearly rose from his seat.

How many years had passed? Finally, someone had hit the nail on the head.

Yang Zan clenched his fists, lowering his voice by two notches: "State Preceptor, are you saying we should reclaim the land lost by refugees and redistribute it to them?"

Pan Yun said: "This is not easy."

Sun Yuanzhen pursed his lips and said gravely: "It cannot be achieved at once."

Pan Yun: "But at least we must halt farmers who still hold land from losing it and becoming refugees—and reduce tenant farmers' dependence on land."

Sun Yuanzhen was stunned; he was better versed in military affairs, so he turned to Yang Zan for insight.

Yang Zan's eyes gleamed as he nodded vigorously: "Indeed. Today, tenant farmers still lease land by household—five people leasing five mu, their entire year's labor and energy consumed by the landlord. If we raise labor efficiency and reduce landlord demands, just two of the five family members could be freed to work elsewhere and earn extra wages. Over time, their household will improve; eventually, they may even buy land from landlords—or switch from tenancy to wage labor."

Pan Yun's lips curled slightly: "Wasn't Deng Maoqi's rebellion in Fujian precisely because landlords exploited tenant farmers too harshly? Though the court has already ordered Fujian to restrain landlords and abolish several labor-intensive auxiliary duties for tenants… royal decrees are hard to enforce locally; implementation ultimately depends on local officials."

Yang Zan immediately turned to Sun Yuanzhen: "My lord, it's spring planting season now—every county sends officials to the countryside to encourage farming and sericulture. Why not seize this opportunity to order landlords to behave and pacify tenant farmers?"

Sun Yuanzhen nodded.

He thought a moment, then voiced another idea: "State Preceptor, I was just preparing to petition for the separation of Rui'an to establish Taishun, and the division of Lishui and Qingtian counties to create Yunhe, Xuanping, and Jingning—then appoint officials and troops to settle refugees and suppress bandits."

Pan Yun's eyes lit up; she threw her head back and laughed heartily: "You're truly sharp, My Lord Sun—this plan is excellent, hahaha…"

Dividing counties gives the government a chance to reclaim vast tracts of uncataloged wasteland and 'ownerless' fields—enabling village relocations, population resettlement, and stabilizing many refugees, who will also receive cultivable wasteland.

Seeing her pleased, Sun Yuanzhen quickly asked: "State Preceptor, since you approve this method, what of the Jiangang port project…?"

Pan Yun smiled faintly: "My Lord Sun, do you know how much additional customs revenue the Quanzhou port added between the end of last year's accounts and March?"

Sun Yuanzhen shook his head.

Pan Yun smiled and held up a number with her fingers.

Sun Yuanzhen's eyes widened slightly; Yang Zan's heart burned with excitement.

Pan Yun smiled faintly: "This is only customs revenue—imagine the trade volume and profits that follow."

"Maritime trade mainly consists of silk, various fabrics, tea, and porcelain—all primarily produced in Zhejiang and Nanzhili. Quanzhou is close to Zhejiang; if we open another port in Zhejiang, won't it cut off Quanzhou's supply?"

So what?

Let another's boat sink, not mine—we serve Zhejiang now, so we must secure Zhejiang's interests.

Sun Yuanzhen immediately said: "State Preceptor, Quanzhou is too far. If we establish a port in Hangzhou, merchants will benefit greatly, saving considerable travel and tax costs—it's also a policy that benefits the people."

"Indeed, it benefits the people," Pan Yun lifted her eyelids to ask Sun Yuanzhen: "But such benefits must be clearly understood by those who profit. You are an official—but do you know what the 'people' think? What are they willing to give for this?"

Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan frowned. What did she mean?

Was she demanding bribes from wealthy merchants?

Was Pan Yun such a person?

Just moments ago, they had been certain they hadn't misjudged her—now their confidence in their own judgment wavered.

Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan remained silent. Their aides, understanding instantly, rose to pour tea for Pan Yun, bowing with a smile: "State Preceptor speaks wisely. May we ask—how much should these 'people' contribute?"

Pan Yun knew they had misunderstood, but didn't blame them; she glanced at them and said: "How should I know? Let your masters calculate it themselves. I only know that since Deng Maoqi's rebellion, Your Majesty has paid special attention to tenant farmers and refugees—if they're willing to contribute grain, land, and funds to settle refugees and quell public resentment, I believe His Majesty will be delighted—and with a stroke of his brush, he may grant Zhejiang its very own port."

The four of them suddenly understood—it was still about settling refugees and reclaiming land for the poor.

Pan Yun slowly lifted her teacup, sipped, and smiled: "Isn't Xue Shao currently in Hangzhou? I hear he's uncovered many interesting things."

Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan exchanged a glance—and immediately had their plan.

Mature politicians need not say much; a hint is enough.

Sun Yuanzhen burst into laughter, shifting the topic, and turned to his aide: "Go ask the Shopkeeper—why aren't the dishes served yet?"

The aide immediately smiled and agreed, then pushed open the door and left.

The innkeeper had long prepared the meals, but since no one inside called out, they dared not disturb them.

At this question, the prepared dishes arrived in a steady stream.

This meal was paid for by Sun Yuanzhen; Pan Yun enjoyed it greatly.

After eating and drinking their fill, Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan left with the aide, while Pan Yun returned to her room to rest.

The shopkeeper, who had been watching the private room, immediately summoned a servant to deliver a message to the owner.

"Both Master Sun and Master Yang showed great respect to that Daoist nun; before they arrived, she was escorted upstairs by Xue Yushi, who came from Jingcheng, but he sat only briefly before leaving."

Yuan Hongsheng turned the jade pill in his hand, lost in thought: "Someone both Master Sun and Master Yang treat with respect—a Kun Dao, and one who was accompanied by Xue Yushi from Jingcheng..."

He froze, sat upright, his eyes widening slightly: "Could it be... the State Preceptor?"

Yuan Hongsheng immediately set down the jade pill, changed his clothes, and went to the inn; after a quick glance at Pan Yun, he summoned the shopkeeper: "Did you collect payment?"

"He dropped a silver ingot as deposit upon entering."

"Return it to him immediately—double it back!" he said. "See to her every detail: three meals a day, plus tea and snacks morning and evening—spare no effort."

The shopkeeper couldn't help wiping the cold sweat from his brow and whispered: "What if we're wrong..."

Yuan Hongsheng glanced at him: "If we're wrong, we're wrong—it's only today's lodging and meals. Even if she's not the State Preceptor, anyone honored as a guest by Master Sun and Master Yang can't be ordinary."

Yuan Hongsheng was merely a merchant; though he owned several inns and restaurants, this one—the best in Hangzhou—still couldn't take him further.

Especially since he'd already opened inns in several prosperous prefectures of Zhejiang, he could no longer break through—his only path forward lay in switching industries.

But changing tracks wasn't easy.

He had a gut feeling this was an opportunity.

He didn't know this opportunity had been deliberately given to him by Pan Yun—and deliberately left as a thread for Sun Yuanzhen and Yang Zan.

To run the best inn in Hangzhou, one must be either extremely smooth—or extremely arrogant.

Different attitudes, different games—but either way, he could be the breakthrough.

Pan Yun pushed open the window, picked up Pan Xiaohei, and tossed him down: "Go find Xue Shao. Tell him no one's here."

Pan Xiaohei skillfully stepped midair, twisted, and landed smoothly, then sprinted off on all fours.

He played wildly outside until nightfall, then returned to Pan Yun: "Xue Shao isn't in the city."

Pan Yun ended her cultivation, opened her eyes, and glanced at him: "I knew already."

Pan Xiaohei: "How did you know?"

"From the moment you ran wild through the whole city, and I heard all the street vendors shouting from your direction, I knew you were playing."

Though Pan Xiaohei was playful, his intuition was reliable—he only romped when he'd completed his task, or confirmed it couldn't be done.

Seeing Pan Yun walk to the table to pour tea, Pan Xiaohei leapt onto the table, shoved his head forward to get to the tea first, and muttered inwardly: 【Aren't you worried he'll get killed? There were plenty watching him today.】

Pan Yun: "Xue Shao's reputation draws watchers every day. He's been in the south for more than a day or two—he's still alive because he's no fool."

Pan Yun poured herself another cup of tea, drained it in one gulp, and added: "Besides, he carries talismans—I feel no danger from him."

Xue Shao was indeed not in danger—only embarrassed.

He and Xi Jin hadn't made it into the city before the gates closed.

The master and servant stood outside the city, gazing up at the lanterns hanging over the gate, feeling the last sliver of daylight vanish—the night plunged into complete darkness. They exchanged a silent look.

Xi Jin looked up at the sky and said: "No moon tonight, stars are sparse—so dark."

Xue Shao also glanced at the sky and declared: "Rain will come after midnight."

If it were clear, with moon and stars, even night would be as bright as day—sleeping outside wouldn't trouble the master and servant.

But if it rained, they couldn't just camp anywhere.

Xue Shao turned and walked away, quickening his pace: "Come on—head to the Chenghuangmiao. If we can stay, stay; if not, reach the village before the rain comes."

Xi Jin hurried to catch up.

Both master and servant were accustomed to sleeping under the open sky and knew wilderness survival well.

Spring rain is as precious as oil—and just as poisonous.

In spring, especially at night, if you get soaked and can't dry off or change clothes promptly, you'll likely fall ill.

Even Xue Shao, as a cultivator, was no exception.

Xue Shao thought even immortals wouldn't be safe.

So the two hurried toward the Chenghuangmiao, three li away.

When they arrived, they saw the temple roof had been torn off—there was no shelter left.

Clearly, after last year's wind disaster, the temple had been completely ruined.

Xue Shao didn't hesitate—he turned and pulled Xi Jin toward another village, three li farther.

But the night was pitch-black, and the rain fell earlier than Xue Shao had predicted; they took a shortcut across Tian Geng, when Xi Jin's foot slipped and he tumbled sideways into the dark void. Xue Shao gasped, instinctively grabbing him—only to fall himself.

Splash—he realized it was a pond.