Chapter 342: The Test

Zhang Pu remained silent, holding his teacup noncommittally. He sipped his tea quietly in small mouthfuls, not even glancing at his guest. Zhao Yigong’s anxiety began to rise again. Was this his way of refusing the request? Suddenly, he had a realization: this must be a test. The powerful figures in China often played these psychological games to appear inscrutable and exert pressure.

The only countermeasure was to completely ignore it, to meet silence with silence.

After a long moment, Zhang Pu spoke again. “I hear you have a bookstore in Hangzhou, sir?”

“Indeed, the Wanbi Bookstore is my humble enterprise.” Zhao Yigong thought to himself that this “changing of the subject” was another classic rhetorical tactic. He composed himself and answered in a calm, steady voice, neither arrogant nor impatient.

“I have heard that the Wanbi Bookstore is managed exceptionally well. You have a great talent for commerce, sir.”

“My ancestors were merchants for several generations, and it was through their labor that we built this family business. Although I have pursued scholarship, I dare not forget the toil of my forefathers, who carried goods to market,” Zhao Yigong said, rising respectfully.

This gesture earned a nod from Zhang Pu. He had long heard from Fu She members like Sun Chun and Fang Yizhi about this Master Zhao and his Wanbi Bookstore. He knew that although Master Zhao appeared elegant and refined, he lacked a deep scholarly foundation. Apart from a decent knowledge of “History” among the classics, histories, and philosophical texts, he was almost ignorant of the rest. He could speak eloquently about the history of the Song Dynasty, and his commentary on many figures and events was insightful and showed deep research, yet he was mostly clueless about the original texts of the Zizhi Tongjian or the History of Song. But when it came to “miscellaneous studies” and “the study of the nature of things,” others were practically ignorant in his presence. Fang Yizhi, in his letters, had expressed profound admiration for Zhao Yigong’s breadth of practical knowledge.

In short, this Master Zhao’s learning was peculiar. The origin of his Xiucai degree was self-evident.

What was more intriguing was that most of the goods sold and used in Master Zhao’s Wanbi Bookstore were “Australian goods.” Coincidentally, the current magistrate of Taicang, Liu Shidou, was from Nanhai County in Guangdong. He and Zhang Pu had passed the imperial examination in the same year and he was also a member of the Fu She. Therefore, Zhang Pu knew a great deal about the activities of the “Australians” in Guangdong.

Zhao Yigong was clearly one of the local Guangdong people who had grown rich through the Australians. This had been Zhang Pu’s initial judgment, and now he was more convinced than ever.

The question was, why would someone with a deep Australian background want to save Sun Huodong’s career? Although Sun Huodong was enthusiastic about Western learning, there was no record of him having any dealings with the Australians.

He asked, “Sir, you wish to resolve Huodong’s predicament. What is your purpose?”

Zhao Yigong was prepared. He made the sign of the cross on his chest. Zhang Pu nodded. “So, you and Sun Huodong are of the same faith!”

He then asked, “Since you possess such skill in commerce, you must be well-versed in the ways of economics.”

Zhao Yigong’s mind raced to keep up with this divergent line of questioning, unsure of its purpose. He replied, “I know a little.”

“My Taicang, originally carved from corners of Kunshan, Changshu, and Jiading, has high terrain. The people here mostly grow cotton and plant little grain. Every year for the autumn tribute of ‘white grain,’ they must purchase grain from outside to fulfill their tax obligations. Not to mention the hardships of transporting this tribute grain to the capital via the canal, but even in buying grain to pay taxes, they often face unscrupulous merchants who block grain shipments to hoard and speculate, driving the price of one shi of rice to one and a third or fourth taels of silver. The people suffer immensely, often to the point of bankruptcy. I wonder, sir, what solution you might have for this?”

Zhao Yigong was taken aback. Was this a test of his economic knowledge? He thought for a moment and understood. Zhang Pu had likely already decided to grant his request but wanted to see if he had the ability to be worthy of the favor.

Once he understood this, it wasn’t strange at all. The phenomenon of cheap local products and expensive grain was not new to Zhao Yigong. It was a common problem in places that primarily cultivated cash crops, like Leizhou. However, Taicang’s situation was different from Leizhou’s. Jiangnan was a region with heavy taxes in the Ming Dynasty, and the grain tribute burden was immense. The transport of “white grain” to the north was an especially heavy burden on the local populace.

The so-called “white grain” transport referred to the tax grain from 24 counties and 1 prefecture in the five prefectures of Suzhou, Changzhou, Songjiang, Jiaxing, and Huzhou in Southern Zhili. This grain was sent to the capital to supply the palace storehouses, the Court of Imperial Entertainments, the Bureau of Wine, Vinegar, and Flour, the Imperial Clan Court, and the salaries of officials, with an annual quota of over 210,000 shi. The varieties included high-quality rice like fine white polished rice, white polished japonica rice, and white polished glutinous rice. Because it was for the consumption of the six palaces and all officials, the quality requirements were extremely high. The official conversion rate between white grain and ordinary rice was thus vastly different. Furthermore, the wastage during the transport of white grain was the highest among all tax grains. The gazetteers of the five prefectures and their respective counties all unanimously declared that anyone assigned the duty of transporting white grain would surely face bankruptcy. After the Wanli era, the situation worsened. The enormous expenses on the road had to be subsidized by the “grain chiefs” themselves, a role only the wealthy could afford. Thus, throughout the Ming Dynasty, this duty was a nightmare for the local wealthy landowners.

He recalled the materials he had read. Historically, Zhang Pu was very concerned about this matter—it was, after all, his hometown’s problem. His proposed solution at the time was to divert the tribute grain that Taicang was supposed to send to the capital to supply the local Taicang and Zhenhai garrisons instead. This would eliminate the huge expense of canal transport. It was a good way to lighten the people’s burden and was somewhat feasible. Zhao Yigong believed that Zhang Pu’s proposed solution showed he had a good grasp of the problem’s essence.

On the surface, it seemed that during the process of exchanging cotton for grain, someone was manipulating the grain supply channels, creating a situation of cheap cotton and expensive grain, which exacerbated the people’s burden. The solution should start with the grain distribution channels. But Zhang Pu saw clearly that the root of the problem was not the price of grain, but the enormous losses during the canal transport process—especially for the “white grain.”

The “white grain” was transported north using a system of “official supervision and private transport.” The “grain chief” responsible for the delivery had to hire boats, prepare supplies, and transport the grain to Beijing via the Grand Canal. From receiving subsidies for transport in their hometowns, to passing through customs and getting clearance at the locks along the way, and finally to entering the granaries in the capital, every step required paying endless “customary fees.”

A single grain chief transported less than five hundred shi of white grain, but the transport cost per shi was staggering: around three shi during the Xuande era, rising to three or four shi by the Chenghua era; during the Zhengde and Jiajing eras, it was four or five shi; by the Wanli era, five or six shi was common, sometimes even soaring to eight shi. By the Chongzhen era, the cost for a single grain chief’s delivery could reach 1,500 taels of silver.

When the official loss and these “expenses” were added together, the transport cost per shi of white grain was several, or even more than ten times, the actual tax. To pay their grain tax, the people had to prepare a large excess of rice, which greatly increased the demand for outside grain and further drove up grain prices.

Only by eliminating this excessive “wastage” could the people’s burden be truly lightened. Zhao Yigong thought that for the era Zhang Pu lived in, this was the simplest and most effective solution within the existing system.

But Zhao Yigong knew that this highly feasible solution was ultimately defeated by opposition from the canal transport interests. Not only that, but even the magistrate who proposed it, Liu Guangshi, was demoted and transferred.

In the final years of a dynasty, vested interest groups would stubbornly cling to their gains, making even the slightest reform impossible to implement, eventually leading to an irremediable situation. This was in contrast to the Qing Dynasty’s canal transport organization. While the Qing’s system was also corrupt, inefficient, and wasteful, it was eventually changed to a system of official collection and official transport. This liberated the people of Jiangnan, who had suffered under the Ming’s system of transporting tribute grain to the capital, and greatly improved transport efficiency. It was a far superior system compared to the Ming’s.

During his year in Hangzhou, besides running the Wanbi Bookstore, Zhao Yigong had also been extensively studying the economy and livelihood of the people in Jiangnan. He particularly noted the highly developed private boat transport industry. Not only was the inland river shipping industry already on a large scale, but the coastal shipping routes in the outer seas were also very developed. Especially in places like Shanghai County, large-scale sea transport magnates had already emerged. These magnates owned dozens or even hundreds of sand boats, traveling north to Shandong, Tianjin, and even Liaodong, transporting goods between the north and south. Of course, these sea transport magnates were still relatively primitive: most of them were also the owners of the goods, not purely in the shipping business. They simply handled freight for others while taking care of their own needs. The famous sand boat gangs of Shanghai County in the Qing Dynasty developed from this foundation.

In Zhao Yigong’s view, the Ming could completely switch from canal to sea transport. This would not only save enormous transport costs and directly lighten the people’s burden, but also eliminate the vast administrative expenses of maintaining the canal system. In terms of overall benefit, it was far more cost-effective than abolishing the postal relay stations.

He had been planning to form a sea transport company for north-south freight. The Dayou branch in Shanghai, part of the Shanhai Wulu, was already leasing local sand boats for north-south trade and making handsome profits. If he were to form his own sea transport company, with the excellent performance of the Lingao-built H800, the profits would be rolling in.

If he could secure the contract for the Ming’s tribute grain transport, Zhao Yigong would laugh in his sleep. The profits!

Of course, to do big business in the Ming Dynasty, one needed the backing of the gentry. He had originally been eyeing the family of Xu Guangqi. Now, hearing Zhang Pu ask about this matter, he felt an opportunity had arrived.

If Zhang Pu and the Fu She could realize the benefits of switching from canal to sea transport, then his plan to take over the tribute grain transport had a high chance of success.

Zhao Yigong said slowly, “In my humble opinion, cheap cotton and expensive grain are but a minor ailment. The chronic disease lies with the canal transport system!”

In that instant, he saw a look of appreciation flash in Zhang Pu’s eyes. This was not only because his view was original, but also because it was exactly what his host wanted to hear.

Zhao Yigong thought to himself, “How shameful! I’m using cheat codes again!”

He then collected his thoughts and began to speak eloquently, starting with the problems of the Ming’s canal transport system, then moving on to the various corrupt practices and demands associated with the “white grain.” He argued that the people’s burden was not the official tax itself, but the endless “wastage rice.” Seeing that Zhang Pu was listening intently, he gradually shifted his attack to the canal transport system itself.

Because he was always prepared to “abolish the canal and use the sea,” he had a wealth of “black materials”—negative information—about the shortcomings of the canal transport system. Now, he threw them out one by one, painting the Ming’s canal transport system as completely worthless, a system that harmed the country and oppressed the people to the extreme.