Chapter 542: The Yu Family of Songjiang

Sea-going sand ships carried far more grain than canal barges, and the voyage took far less time than canal transport. If grain tribute could be shifted from the canals to the sea, transport costs and losses along the way would surely plummet, and the burden on the people of Songjiang Prefecture would be drastically lightened — a blessing for the common folk, a deed of unsurpassed benevolence.

But a single canal runs from south to north, from the provinces to the capital, from the tribute laborers and transport troops all the way up to the Minister of Revenue and the grand secretaries of the cabinet. Who knows how many people feed off it along the way? Eight million piculs of grain are shipped, yet the total cost approaches thirty million piculs — and then there is the expense of repairing the canal. The gold and silver involved is truly a flood of staggering proportions. How could the mere welfare of a single prefecture ever stand in its way?

The local magnates of Songjiang Prefecture had their own cut of the canal tribute too. With interests so entangled, they were even less inclined to stir up trouble by switching tribute to the sea. And speaking of which — Xu Jie seized over ten thousand qing of prime farmland, and after his death he dared not be buried in his native soil for fear his grave would be desecrated. Dong Qichang's mansion was stormed by the common people, his property confiscated and his house burned to the ground. How could men like these ever undertake such troublesome work for the good of the nation and the people...

Among the myriad kinds of men in this world, besides those blinded by greed, there are also righteous heroes who care for the nation and the people. The Yu family of Shanghai County in Songjiang Prefecture were just such people.

In earlier years, the Yu family ran cotton fields and weaving workshops. Ever since Huang Daopo brought the textile techniques of the Li people back from Hainan, Songjiang cotton cloth had been the finest under heaven, and the Yu family grew rich from this trade. Perhaps to facilitate the transport and sale of their cloth, during the Longqing reign the family began acquiring sand ships, running the so-called Northern Sea Route from Songjiang to Tianjin. Songjiang cotton cloth and Jiangnan specialties were shipped to Tianjin and traded for all manner of northern goods — a single round trip brought enormous profit.

By around the twentieth year of the Wanli reign, the Yu family had already become local tycoons. Like many households in Jiangnan, they continued their business, but their sons still studied for the examinations to bring glory to the family name.

With such a head for business and such sharp foresight, they were hardly likely to fare poorly in the examinations. By the Longqing reign, the Yu family had already produced licentiates and provincial graduates. One must understand that in Songjiang Prefecture, scholars were as numerous as hairs on an ox, and the licentiate exams could see thousands of candidates trampled to death in the crush. To earn even the rank of licentiate, let alone pass the provincial exam, was no easy feat.

In the fifteenth year of the Wanli reign, the Yu family produced a metropolitan graduate, who stayed on as an official in the capital, rising from secretary to director of a bureau in the Ministry of Revenue.

One would expect such a shrewd man, a true scholar of the classics, to be tactful and adroit in officialdom, a man of supple grace. Yet no one expected that what this Director Yu would be most passionate about was switching grain tribute to the sea.

No one knew how many people this proposal offended. When it was first raised, everyone took it for a joke, or the grandiose posturing of a pure critic angling for fame. Once they realized this Director Yu was in earnest, they could no longer tolerate him.

There was no great fanfare of fabricated charges. A vice minister "happened to notice" a minor error in the accounts under Director Yu's purview, and then "flew into a towering rage." Not a single colleague, bound as they were by common interests, stepped forward to speak for him. Just like that, Director Yu was dismissed from office and sent home.

Returning home, Director Yu did not lose heart. He tried on his own in Songjiang Prefecture. Compared to canal transport, sea transport held overwhelming advantages; with diligent management, it would surely yield mountains of gold and silver. At home, Director Yu spent money freely to grease connections, entrusting friendly officials to submit memorials, trying to switch tribute to the sea and ease the burden on Songjiang and the whole of Jiangnan.

But every one of his proposals sank like a stone in the ocean. A thousand li of canal, nearly a million people entangled in it, sharing out tens of millions of piculs — tens of millions of taels of silver. With interests so colossal, who would willingly change things? Who would dare even touch it? Director Yu strove on and on, and failed time and again, until at last, overcome by rage and frustration, he fell ill and died at home.

Director Yu had two sons. The elder was honest, earnest, and devoted to his studies, progressing smoothly step by step from licentiate to provincial graduate to metropolitan graduate. But because of their father, he was not kept in the capital; he was sent straight to Jiangxi to serve as a county magistrate, toiling away on the path of provincial postings. The younger son, Yu Zhiyuan, was brilliant and romantic, hailed as a child prodigy in Songjiang Prefecture. He passed the provincial examination in the Southern Metropolitan Region at nineteen, his future boundless.

Beyond his prowess in the examinations, this Second Young Master Yu was also a dashing champion of the pleasure quarters. Barely in his teens, he was already a celebrated guest in the courtesan houses, accomplished in every one of the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting arts. Legend had it he once compiled a "Register of a Hundred Blossoms," appraising the beauties of Jiangnan. Whether in green chambers, painted boats, or pleasure houses, a lovely maiden's worth multiplied a hundredfold the moment she made his list.

His father had been shrewd and capable, a formidable figure in both the examinations and officialdom, yet he had been brought down by the sea transport issue. This Second Young Master Yu, debonair and romantic, his career path seemingly smooth sailing, with vast family wealth and success in love — he too was fixated on switching tribute to the sea.

While his elder brother went to Jiangxi to serve as an official, Yu Zhiyuan stayed behind to manage the family estate. His father had already been considered a man who could turn stone to gold, yet within two years under his hand, the number of ships had increased by sixty percent. He even captured a significant share of the military supply business from Shandong to Liaodong, as well as the transport and sale of Liaodong's local specialties. Naturally, wealth poured in like a flood.

In the forty-fifth year of the Wanli reign, the twenty-one-year-old Yu Zhiyuan undertook several matters. First, he spent heavily to open doors in the capital, securing the agreement of several pure critics and a powerful eunuch of the inner court to remonstrate and submit memorials, coordinating from within and without. Then, in the capital and in Nanjing, he sought out several reputable nobles of merit, renowned scholars, and retired officials, inviting them to come the following year to bear witness. After that, he bought and sold grain on his own account, deciding that in the forty-sixth year of the Wanli reign, he would use his family's fleet to transport an amount of grain equal to Songjiang Prefecture's grain tax quota to Tianjin.

The reasoning was clear enough: if sea transport proved faster and incurred less loss, then the case for switching tribute to the sea would be far more justified. At the very least, it would be worth fighting for.

Jiangnan bore heavy taxes. Though the great houses and aristocratic families were not burdened by this, many others suffered deeply from it. Even those who delayed or defaulted could hardly escape the knife in the end. Such households were the most fervent supporters of Second Young Master Yu's proposal, and many were willing to contribute money and effort. Behind these households, there were often officials and scholars as well. The clamor grew louder and louder, and it was gradually becoming a real force.

On the ninth day of the twelfth month in the forty-fifth year of the Wanli reign, heaven and earth were frozen and bleak. Yet the winter chill of Jiangnan was different from that north of the river — green could still be seen everywhere, only tinged with a little more desolation than usual.

As night drew near, in the twilight hour, no one in Shanghai County, Songjiang Prefecture, cared about the cold. People stepped out of their houses, pausing in their courtyards, or walking toward the northeast.

"Hasn't Second Young Master Yu gone to the docks?" It was the women in the county town's various pleasure houses who could guess his whereabouts.

Second Young Master Yu Zhiyuan was renowned for his romantic escapades, yet he never spent the night away from home. Moreover, every other day he would visit the docks; he could only rest easy after seeing his family's fleet moored there.

At that moment, the northeastern side of Shanghai County was lit by a red glow that filled the sky. That was precisely where the docks lay. Evening clouds rarely blazed so brightly there; at dusk, such a red glow could only mean fire.

In the second year of the Yongle reign, Songjiang Prefecture was dredged. The Wusong River was diverted into the Liuhe River, and the Huangpu River was deepened. The two rivers merged and flowed into the sea, their currents abundant, silt no longer accumulating, forming an excellent harbor. Songjiang merchants could sail upstream against the current to the Southern Metropolitan Region, Jiangxi, and the river ports of Huguang to sell goods and trade local specialties. They could also put out to sea, heading north to the Northern Metropolitan Region, Shandong, and Liaodong, or south to Fujian and Guangdong, and even make ocean voyages to Goryeo and Japan. This was what was meant by "embracing the river and adjoining the sea" — a natural pivotal hub, a center of trade. This was one of the reasons Songjiang, despite its heavy taxes, remained prosperous.

Tongzhou (here referring to Southern Tongzhou, present-day Nantong) and Chongming Island built sand ships, and the great vessels moored at the port of Shanghai. The Yu family's fleet naturally moored there as well.

In the harbor, the Yu family's fleet was blazing furiously. The roaring wind stirred by the great fire, the cracking and popping of shattering hull planks, and the surging roar of the river merged into an eerie symphony. From time to time, a mast snapped and crashed into the water, sending up an explosion of spray.

Both the river's surface and the sky had been dyed red by the great fire. It was only dusk, yet the blaze was so fierce it gave the illusion of nightfall, making everything around it seem dark by contrast.

The Yu family's fleet was so large that it occupied its own separate section of the harbor, far from the other vessels. Seeing such a fire raging there, everyone else hastily set sail, putting as much distance as possible between them.

Compared to the chaos and clamor on the water, the dock was eerily quiet. Yu Zhiyuan stood not far from the shore, his hair bound with a jade crown, a pure purple sable cloak draped over his shoulders, watching the river blaze with an expressionless face.

Because he was not far away, the heat from the wind-whipped flames was scorching. Though the weather was frigid, the men on the dock were drenched in sweat from the heat. Four men guarded Yu Zhiyuan's side. Ever since Director Yu had been dismissed and returned home, martial arts masters had been hired to guard the household. Wherever Second Young Master Yu went each day, these men escorted him. He had been mocked for this — people said that for a family of such distinguished lineage to surround itself with crude, brutish warriors was to adopt the manner of a profligate wastrel.

The four guards' attention was not on the great fire. They kept their eyes fixed on the two hundred or so able-bodied men standing a dozen paces away. Despite the winter, these men wore little clothing, all dressed as sailors. Their faces ashen, they stood there, glancing now and then at the water, then back at Yu Zhiyuan.

Suddenly, someone in the crowd took a step forward. At that movement, the four guards immediately placed their hands on their saber hilts and cast cold stares in that direction. One of the guards moved even closer to the Second Young Master. This was a long-established plan: if trouble broke out, three would hold the line while the other grabbed Yu Zhiyuan and ran. For all his noble scion's appearance, Yu Zhiyuan was far more nimble and agile than the average wealthy scion.

The one who had moved was one of the sailors. His face full of shame, he simply dropped to his knees. With him taking the lead, the two hundred or so sailors knelt down one after another.

The guards breathed a sigh of relief, but Second Young Master Yu paid them no heed. He simply watched the river in silence. The fire had been burning for some time now; the hulls were breached, the cabins taking on water. One by one, the sand ships began to sink, and the flames gradually subsided.

In his sable cloak and jade crown, a handsome young gentleman, set off by the firelight and the sunset glow, he looked like a figure from a painting. The sailors kneeling before him and the guards at his side all waited for Yu Zhiyuan to speak. But the young master simply stood there, neither pleased nor grieving, calmly staring at the sinking fleet.

As they watched for a long while, both the sailors and the guards began to feel a chill. The dock was warm from the great fire's heat, but this coldness was not on their bodies — it was in their hearts.

The firelight dimmed further. Since the blaze had been discovered, quite a few people had rushed over from Shanghai County. Given the Yu family's local wealth, influence, and reputation, they naturally had many acquaintances. On any ordinary day, people would have long since come over to chat and curry favor. Now, everyone stood far away, whispering to each other and pointing.

Thanks to the four old friends "Yuan Heng Li Zhen, User Yu, Mu Ming, and Immovable as a Mountain" for their tips. Thank you all for your support. Continuing to seek monthly tickets, subscriptions, and tips.