Counting the military strategies of antiquity, fire attacks and water attacks may be the most celebrated, but if one considers what has been used most frequently and most effectively, it is still the stratagem of “severing the enemy’s grain supply.”
Cutting off provisions can both diminish the enemy’s military strength and disrupt the morale of their troops.
This incident at Hui’an County appeared on the surface to be about the salt field being unable to deliver sea salt and the artificially inflated “price” of salt permits — seemingly involving only merchants. But in reality, this practice of suppressing profits to drive away customers would greatly reduce the number of salt merchants traveling to and from southern Fujian.
Without salt merchants transporting grain in exchange for permits, the Jiahe Guard would very soon find itself in a grain shortage.
Jiahe Island was covered in coastal rock, its farmland tainted with saline — the grain produced by the garrison’s own cultivation was far from sufficient to meet the army’s needs, and Tong’an City across the bay produced equally limited grain supplies. Furthermore, Yan Chengzhao had led several thousand elite troops south from the capital to garrison Jiahe Island, and had recently been ordered to recruit over ten thousand additional soldiers. The entire Jiahe Guard’s provisions were extremely strained.
At such a time, the supply of grain transport absolutely could not be cut off.
It was now late in the third month. The Jiahe Guard’s remaining provisions could barely sustain them for one month. Without taking early countermeasures, by the time the impending grain shortage was discovered, it would happen to be early summer in the fifth month.
In the fifth month, the winds from Japan arrive from the east — it is the “great season” for Japanese raider incursions.
These were not coincidences but rather the result of a “mastermind” directing events from behind the scenes.
First, they could use the salt permits to suppress the Jiahe Guard’s power, stir up disorder at an opportune moment, and prevent the opening of maritime trade. Second, the undistributed surplus salt could be used for illicit trafficking to reap enormous profits.
One arrow, two targets.
Pei Shaohuai explained all the implications to Yan Chengzhao. Yan Chengzhao’s brow furrowed slightly and, after a moment’s thought, he said: “I’ll dispatch ships south to Chaozhou Prefecture’s Yi’an Commandery to transport grain — one month is enough for two round trips.” Stockpiling grain in advance was also a viable strategy.
“In Pei’s view, there is no need to rush and startle the snake just yet.” The opposing side had only just revealed the tip of its tongue — not even its head. It was better to wait until they had thrown out all their tactics before responding. Pei Shaohuai said: “Commander Yan can rest assured. As long as Shuang’an Prefecture stands, the soldiers of the Jiahe Guard will not go without a meal.” There was seventy or eighty percent confidence in these words — his tone carried no bluster.
Moreover, sending warships out to transport grain would easily generate complications and invite diversionary tactics from the other side — it was not the best course of action.
“Was this matter already within Pei Zhizhou’s calculations?” Yan Chengzhao asked.
Pei Shaohuai shook his head and said with self-deprecating amusement: “Pei is ashamed — I don’t possess such divine foresight. I could not have anticipated such a detailed maneuver from the opposing side.”
“But Pei knows this much,” he continued: “Nothing is more indispensable to common people than a meal of food, and nothing more easily stirs disorder than a meal of food. And the way of merchants is inseparable from the four characters: rare goods are worth hoarding.”
Grasp the fundamentals, and the ten thousand variations all trace back to the same root.
Inside the military camp, the two men worked out the details of their subsequent strategy — and both had a clear picture in mind. Yan Chengzhao would act through military force; Pei Shaohuai would act through strategy. Each would follow his own course.
……
The sunset blazes, the green stones glisten, carriages and horses thread through the markets, lanes and alleys connect, the city’s thousand households arranged like pieces on a chessboard.
Pei Shaohuai sat in his carriage, expression unusually grave. Looking through the carriage curtain at the calm and peaceful scene of Shuang’an Prefecture, he fell into deep thought.
The opposing side had already made a move against the Jiahe Guard — how could they possibly spare Shuang’an Prefecture, let alone all of southern Fujian? If not a Japanese-raider uprising, then a bandit uprising; if not a bandit uprising, then a popular uprising. As long as one was ruthless enough, disregarding the lives of the common people, the common people became the greatest stake in their hands.
In the days that followed, Pei Shaohuai instructed Butler Shen and Steward Zhang, when going out to make purchases, to keep a close watch on the grain markets — any unusual movement or irregularity was to be reported back immediately.
He also summoned the three clan elders and told them to tighten control over the grain in their clan granaries, keeping it firmly in hand and not selling any outside.
As it was the end of the month, it was again time to distribute the monthly stipends to the household servants. That evening, Yang Shiyue told Pei Shaohuai of a peculiar incident. She said: “We were short of copper coins at home. This morning I had Shen’er’s wife take silver coins to the Tong’an money house to exchange for some copper coins. The money house proprietor, being on familiar terms with Shen’er’s wife, advised her to take the silver coins to the Taide money house in Quanzhou Prefecture and exchange them for Taide money house notes — getting two extra qian in paper notes for every five liang of silver — then go to the market and exchange the notes for copper cash. Making the extra trip of several dozen li, she could still come away with the equivalent of two extra liang in paper notes.”
Shen’er’s wife was dutiful and rule-abiding, not daring to act on her own authority. She returned home and reported the entire matter truthfully to Yang Shiyue.
In ordinary times, Pei Shaohuai had explained certain aspects of monetary and tax law to Yang Shiyue, giving her some basic understanding.
Yang Shiyue continued: “Money houses were originally established by clan gentry to make profit — why would they give up profit to benefit common people for no reason? I feel there is deception involved.”
After hearing this, Pei Shaohuai’s expression sharpened, and he immediately understood — the opposing side had begun deploying another tactic.
The so-called “money house” was a “money shop” established by wealthy and powerful local gentry of civilian society, which could calculate and exchange all manner of gold and silver currencies, and could also lend money at interest — relying on their vast wealth and so-called “credibility.”
In the Quanzhou-Zhangzhou area, there were two peculiar phenomena. First, the treasure notes printed by Da Qing were worthless and difficult to circulate — almost no one used them — yet the notes issued by several major money houses circulated very well, and the face value amounts had never once fallen short, because the great clans and gentry maintained their credibility.
Second, because illicit trade had been rampant in this area for a long time, with merchant ships coming and going constantly, the currencies circulating in the market were varied and chaotic. Money houses had arisen precisely in response to this situation.
Even though the court had already issued a unified silver currency, it was difficult to change established conditions in just a few short years. One could only say that increasing numbers of common people were using silver coins, but notes and old currencies still circulated alongside them.
Several major money houses were controlled by prominent clans of Quanzhou Prefecture, and had now become tools to use against Pei Shaohuai — they were willing to “break faith” and strip the common people of their wealth, thereby creating the opportunity for a popular uprising.
After Pei Shaohuai had worked this out in his mind, he first affirmed his wife’s suspicion, saying: “Shiyue, your intuition is correct.”
He had her sit down first, then leaned close beside her, brush in hand sketching on white paper, and explained: “The Taide money house has quietly changed the exchange rate between silver and their notes. With prominent clan gentry as guarantors, for a short while the notes will still hold value in the market. Ordinary people will thus think exchanging for notes is profitable.”
Yang Shiyue followed this reasoning further and said: “In that case, real gold and silver flow into the Taide money house’s hands.”
Pei Shaohuai nodded and said: “But their tactics are likely not limited to this.”
He guided her with a question: “What do you think they will use all this silver to buy?”
Yang Shiyue felt a chill down her back. She looked up and stared at her husband in astonishment, guessing: “Grain?”
“Precisely.” Pei Shaohuai continued to explain: “If I’m not mistaken, these great clans will use this silver to purchase grain from farming households at prices higher than market rate — once again making farmers and small grain merchants feel they stand to gain, happily selling off their surplus grain to them.” Paying high prices in real gold and silver for grain was also aimed at building “trust.”
Yang Shiyue said: “If the money house continues to raise the exchange rate, it can draw back the invested silver again.” She inhaled sharply.
Listening to it, it seemed as though the gentry clans were consistently giving up profit — when in reality, they were consolidating grain and silver in their own hands, leaving the common people in the end with nothing but hollow notes.
Turning what had once been “trust” into an act of plunder.
Pei Shaohuai said with resignation: “If there were an upright official supervising and maintaining order, this ‘trust’ might still limp along, and people could eke out a living in the narrow gaps between. But now the Quanzhou-Zhangzhou prefectural governments are colluding with local powerful households — so this ‘trust’ is not worth a single coin and will only bring harm to the people.”
All the self-righteous posturing in ordinary times was merely preparation for this all-in moment.
Even just hearing it described made one feel the malevolence of it. Yang Shiyue asked anxiously: “Husband, is there any way to stop it?” Once it became a fait accompli, it would be difficult to deal with.
Pei Shaohuai still shook his head — it was not that he was unwilling, but that he could stop ten or a hundred people, not a thousand or ten thousand. He said: “Even if I could hold back Shuang’an Prefecture’s people, I cannot hold back the prefectures and counties of all of southern Fujian. As long as disorder breaks out in the surrounding areas, Shuang’an Prefecture will find it difficult to remain unaffected.”
Though his expression showed resignation, he was not flustered or panicked — it seemed he had several strategies in mind.
He added: “Moreover, chronic ailments that have long festered require breaking through in order to build anew.” This matter required going all-in at once, in order to sweep corrupt officials, treacherous merchants, and lawless criminals into the net in one fell swoop.
Even with her husband appearing so composed and confident, Yang Shiyue still harbored worry within her. She said: “If I hadn’t followed my husband south and witnessed this with my own eyes, I could never have imagined that opening maritime trade in Fujian would be so fraught with danger.” She had originally thought that eliminating threats at sea would already be difficult enough — she hadn’t expected it to be a double assault of internal and external threats.
There were words of discouragement in her heart that she could never quite bring herself to say. After several years as husband and wife, how could she not know what kind of man her husband was? In the end, she could only urge: “Husband, you must take every precaution.”
Pei Shaohuai drew Yang Shiyue into his arms and comforted her: “Don’t worry, I will be careful.”
……
The next day, Pei Shaohuai had Yan Chengzhao send men to investigate the major money houses, and indeed found them all to be properties of the Lin, Chen, and Shangguan families.
The money houses had quietly altered their exchange rates, making no public announcement — but very quickly, those with an eye for opportunity discovered this “loophole” and were passing word in whispers, saying “don’t tell anyone else” while in reality everyone already knew.
The money houses’ business consequently became brisk, and large quantities of silver flowed in.
Just as Pei Shaohuai had anticipated, the major clans also quietly purchased large quantities of grain at elevated prices.
The grain matter was set aside for the moment. Pei Shaohuai had the Qi, Bao, and Chen families join forces and urgently purchase a batch of silk thread and silk from the inland regions — as much as could be bought.
Silk fabric had long been one of the most sought-after goods for overseas export.
……
Half a month later, the first shipment of silk arrived in Tong’an City. This move appeared to have alerted the opposing side, who proceeded to deploy a third tactic — sealing off key waterways and bridges.
Fujian had many mountains and rivers, and many mountain roads and bridges had been built under the initiative of clan gentry, who therefore had control over them.
Merchants traveling through had previously been able to pass by paying a small road toll. Now the rivers were sealed, the roads were sealed, and the bridges were sealed as well. Workshops situated in the inland regions found it difficult to transport their porcelain, tea leaves, paper, and other goods to coastal ports for sale.
Sealing off commercial transportation routes was equivalent to another form of monopoly — one had no choice but to wait for the great clans to send people to purchase the goods.
On the other side, with the commercial ships of Shuang’an Prefecture cut off from their sources of goods, how were they to set sail in December of this year?
The opposing side seemed to be using this to tell Pei Shaohuai: building a wharf does not mean one has the ability to set sail and engage in maritime trade.
This was pushing Shuang’an Prefecture into a dead end.
The three clan elders came to report, their spirits noticeably deflated, their faces filled with a sense of defeat.
Pei Shaohuai calculated the silk inventory and judged it to be about sufficient. He smiled and consoled the three clan elders: “At worst, I would simply be driven away — it has little bearing on you. It is not worth feeling discouraged over.”
He added: “Moreover, the time for defeat has not yet come.”
This gave them a reassuring pill to swallow.
……
Returning to the residence, another family letter had arrived from the capital.
Compared to the previous time, the tone of Pei Shaojin’s letter was considerably more cheerful. He began by enthusiastically informing his elder brother that Lu Yiyao had given Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng a little brother, weighing six jin and eight liang.
The main body of the letter was filled with domestic news. It was only at the very end that Shaojin wrote: “Elder Brother, if you have a free moment, do write a letter to the Emperor. If that truly isn’t possible, submitting a memorial would work too. The Emperor has mentioned it to your younger brother several times already…”
Having been consumed by anxiety over the opening of maritime trade, Pei Shaohuai had been in a mediocre mood of late — but reading Shaojin’s words, an inexplicable lightness came over his heart.
No matter what happened, he still had his family, and his family had always been supporting and helping him.
Pei Shaohuai immediately took up his brush to write a reply, his words equally cheerful — telling his mother about the daily amusing antics of Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng, asking her to take good care of her health and not to worry.
He also wrote separate letters to his Third Sister Pei Ruozhu and to his maternal uncle of the Lin family, asking Third Sister to set aside one hundred thousand bolts of cotton cloth for him, to be transported to Shuang’an Prefecture by Cousin Lin Yuan’s merchant ships. The matter was not especially urgent — as long as it arrived sometime around October, it would be fine.
With several letters written, it was finally time to write to the Emperor. Pei Shaohuai mulled over what to say.
Just then, Xiao Feng woke during the night, rubbing her eyes, and with wobbly, unsteady steps, noticed the candlelight from the study on the other side and came swaying over, stepping into the study.
“Father, why aren’t you asleep yet?” Xiao Feng asked, still half-asleep, and tumbled into her father’s arms.
Pei Shaohuai quickly caught and held her. Xiao Feng wrapped her two little arms tightly around her father’s and leaned against him, sleeping soundly, murmuring: “Father, sleep.”
“Can Father finish writing this letter first?”
“No…”
When he asked again in a softer voice, Xiao Feng had already fallen asleep in that exact position, paying Pei Shaohuai no further heed.
With Xiao Feng’s interruption like this, the few sentences Pei Shaohuai had managed to compose in his mind vanished completely in an instant.
It was not that Pei Shaohuai had nothing to say to the Emperor. Rather, the tangled complications of Fujian connected to the imperial clan — some things were better spoken through Commander Yan’s words than directly, which would be preferable.
Deliberately cultivating the bond between ruler and minister was simply not in Pei Shaohuai’s character.
And so, holding his daughter with one arm, Pei Shaohuai decided to keep it brief, to say what needed to be said and be done with it.
Xiao Feng’s grip was firm — there was no way to set her down gently. From the main room, more sounds reached him — Xiao Nan had also woken during the night.
By the sound of the footsteps, it seemed he was also heading this way.
Pei Shaohuai had no choice but to write quickly: “Your Majesty, it is not that your servant does not write letters — it is simply that I am truly too occupied with pressing matters. Your servant wishes Your Majesty continued good health and vitality…. As to official affairs, all is as Commander Yan has reported. Boyuan, humbly submitted.”
Brief, to the point, and direct from the heart.