Simplifying the tax categories, basing assessment on acreage — there was no denying that the new policy Pei Jue had proposed could, to a certain extent, put an end to arbitrary surcharges and exactions. The intent behind it was sound.
But he had rushed. Rushing to sharpen himself to a cutting edge — seeking to make up for past failings through this achievement.
With a preliminary idea already taking shape in his mind, Pei Shaohuai tidied his desk, locked up his office, and left the palace to return home. With the next day being one of the five-day court holiday, Pei Shaohuai planned to visit the Yang household and consult his father-in-law, to hear the older man’s assessment.
His father-in-law worked at the Court of Judicial Review, deeply versed in law and policy — he was certain to have formed his own views on the new policy.
The next day, Pei Shaohuai and his wife rode in a carriage to the Yang household.
Lord Yang was delighted to see his daughter and son-in-law. Father and daughter sat together over tea, chatting cheerfully. After one cup of tea, Yang Shiyue rose and said, “Your daughter will go and pay her respects to the uncles and aunts.”
“Off you go.”
The two men remained alone in the study to discuss serious matters.
“My son-in-law has come today to discuss the new policy from the Ministry of Personnel, I imagine?” Lord Yang spoke first.
Pei Shaohuai nodded. “There are things I haven’t been able to work out clearly. I’ve come especially to ask for your guidance, Father-in-law.” He could identify the drawbacks of silver-based taxation, but regarding the currents of court politics, he still felt as though he were standing in cloud and mist, unable to see the full picture.
“Go ahead and speak.”
Pei Shaohuai asked, “Although the Ministry of Personnel’s new policy has its merits, its drawbacks are equally conspicuous. Why is it that so many of the remonstrating officials at court are supporting this new policy?” Whatever one might say, among ten remonstrating officials, surely at least a few were thinking of the common people? How could every one of them be in support?
“That framing is wrong — it is not support,” Lord Yang said, and then explained: “Whenever one thing rises, some corresponding problem arises with it. If some stand to gain, others stand to lose. What new policy in this court has ever had the genuine support of everyone?”
He went on: “It is simply that when a new policy is first placed before the Emperor, those for whom it is advantageous support it, those for whom it poses no harm keep silent, and besides — implementing a new policy is not the work of a single day, so the appearance of ‘unanimous court support’ arises.” They had simply not yet reached the stage where the quarreling would break out.
Pei Shaohuai understood at once, and turned to his father-in-law: “What Father-in-law means is — everyone is watching from the far bank, waiting to see how things develop?”
“Precisely.”
That explained everything.
The new policy was evidently beneficial for filling the national treasury, and this much was plain for all to see. So the court officials had all decided to wait first and see what attitude the Emperor would take.
Pei Shaohuai then said, “I am thinking of seizing this opportunity to speak — to remonstrate before the Emperor.”
Lord Yang had already anticipated this. He listened attentively as Pei Shaohuai laid out his views.
Pei Shaohuai paced about the study, his voice measured and even, yet every point struck directly at the flaws of silver-based taxation — not only from the perspective of the common people, but from the perspective of Da Qing’s strength and long-term prosperity, reasoned and substantiated.
Lord Yang listened and nodded as he went, an expression of pleasant surprise spreading across his face. He said, “The views my son-in-law has just expressed see what others have not; the remonstration is sincere and earnest. But if a court remonstration speaks only of drawbacks and offers no solution, it falls short. If the Emperor asks what ought to be done, how would my son-in-law answer? That still needs further thought.”
“Your son-in-law understands.”
This also conveyed that in Lord Yang’s judgment, Pei Shaohuai’s words just now would have posed no problem as an initial remonstration at court.
……
After the rest day, when he returned to work at the Six Bureaus, Deputy Official Gou came by that very afternoon — barely concealing his impatience beneath a show of composure — to ask Pei Shaohuai whether he had made up his mind.
“Your subordinate has decided,” Pei Shaohuai replied. “On the day of the grand court deliberation, I will remonstrate before the court.”
Gou Shengchang disguised his delight and assumed instead the expression of someone showing concern for a colleague and junior, speaking in earnest tones: “Young Lord Pei, go home and prepare your points carefully. When the day comes, there’s no need to be nervous — just deliver your prepared points smoothly and you’ll be fine.” He added, “The other supervising secretaries in the Bureau of Works will also be making their remonstrations on the day of the deliberation.”
A less worldly young man might well have been taken in by Gou Shengchang and become nothing more than someone adding to another’s tally.
When the day of the deliberation arrived, Pei Shaohuai wore his seventh-rank blue-green round-collared official robe, with a mandarin duck embroidered badge sewn in the center of the chest. He stood at the very end of the Six Bureaus officials’ line, head bowed, listening intently as the Ministry of Personnel read aloud the proposed new policy.
This was the day of Pei Shaohuai’s first court remonstration — and yet his heart held no nervousness. There was a simple reason: over the past half-year, his rotational duty as palace recorder had taken him inside the court many times; he had become accustomed to the sight of the hundred officials in session, and had come to know something of the Emperor’s temperament. Gradually, one found it less easy to be made nervous.
After all, he had witnessed scenes before him where officials in crimson robes, in the heat of argument, had let slip words quite unfit for the court, lost all composure, and nearly come to blows — this had happened more than once. Thinking of that, Pei Shaohuai felt his own composure ease a little more.
The Ministry of Personnel finished reading out the proposal. The Emperor spoke: “What do my beloved ministers think of this measure? We wish to hear your views.”
Since it was the Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Finance that had put forward the new policy, the first to speak were naturally the supervising secretaries of the Bureau of Personnel Affairs and the Bureau of Finance. After their round, though a few shortcomings had been pointed out, the new policy was broadly endorsed.
“Silver is precious but small — easy to carry and to divide or melt down. One tael of silver is worth a thousand copper coins. Silver has long been the medium of exchange in the marketplace, so collecting taxes in silver is simply following the will of the people.”
“After land surveys are conducted throughout the prefectures and counties, the tax in silver owed by each county and prefecture becomes a fixed figure. Arithmetic clerks and local powerful households can no longer deceive above or manipulate below — they must pay the silver according to the acreage. This eliminates the malpractice.”
“Paying taxes in silver means that the more one produces, the more one earns. With commoners buying and selling in silver, currency circulation is stimulated, and prosperity flows without end.”
“Simplifying the tax code into clear and straightforward items means magistrates can calculate easily and commoners understand clearly, without being deceived by arithmetic clerks. Moreover, silver is simple to transport, reducing losses from shipping grain by the Grand Canal.”
“……”
The speakers generally began by identifying the drawbacks of the old system and then enumerating the merits of the new policy.
What they said, Pei Shaohuai actually agreed with. These were genuine, visible advantages — and silver as a medium of exchange was indeed an unstoppable trend.
But it seemed they had all forgotten something, or perhaps had deliberately ignored it — tax levies and corvée labor were not only about replenishing the national treasury and financing grand undertakings. They also bore upon the very survival of the common people.
Deputy Official Gou stood at the head of the Bureau of Works officials’ line. He slowly turned his head and caught Pei Shaohuai’s eye — a look signaling that the time had come to step forward and remonstrate.
The Emperor’s expression was calm, revealing neither pleasure nor displeasure. He said, “It is indeed a worthy proposal. Do any of my beloved ministers have other views to offer?”
“Your subordinate, Supervising Secretary of the Bureau of Works Pei Shaohuai, has a remonstration!” The voice was young and clear — unlike the deep, seasoned tones of older officials — and drew glances from civil and military officials alike, turning to look.
It had been a good many years since anyone had seen a remonstrating official this young. There was a stir of interest — not exactly anticipation for what Pei Shaohuai had to say, but more the novelty of seeing something rare.
“Granted,” the Emperor said.
The junior official in the blue-green robe stepped out from the line and walked forward to the center of the hall with unhurried composure.
After paying his respects, Pei Shaohuai spoke in a full, clear voice: “Your servant believes the new policy has genuine merits. If properly implemented, it could benefit Da Qing for a thousand generations.”
The officials assumed he was simply another voice adding to the tally. A wave of disinterest passed through the civil and military ranks.
But then Pei Shaohuai turned the current entirely: “And yet,” he continued, “if implemented at this time, I fear the harm would far outweigh the benefit — it would drive the people to desperate straits, left without enough to eat. Your servant believes that this measure, as it stands, considers only what the court stands to gain or lose, without regard for the life and death of the common people.”
The words were delivered in a measured tone, yet they carried an edge of sharpness.
Those who were furious and wished to rebut him, and those who were secretly amused and watching for entertainment — the officials below murmured among themselves, the low sound swelling into a dull rumble.
The Emperor lightly patted the armrest of the dragon throne. The presiding official called out: “Silence—”
“Lord Pei, continue,” the Emperor said. He did not seem displeased; if anything, his words carried a note of curiosity.
“By your Majesty’s leave,” Pei Shaohuai said, and laid out his points one by one. “First: knowing full well that arithmetic clerks collude with the wealthy, and that county magistrates have failed in their oversight, yet rather than thinking to discipline and punish those responsible — instead merely adjusting the tax code. Does this not imply that this great dynasty cannot even govern its own petty clerks and officials, and so permits local strongmen to tyrannize the common people at will? Your servant believes that to treat a disease, one must treat the root cause. First correct the corrupt practices, restore proper official conduct for the sake of the people — otherwise, whatever tax code is promulgated will find its way into their hands and encounter other workarounds. Every additional cost and expenditure will ultimately fall upon the ordinary people.”
“Second: I wonder whether the Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Finance have considered — silver ingots across Da Qing vary considerably in purity, some seventy percent fine, some ninety percent. How is their value to be determined? Have they considered that commoners hold no silver, and that if they must exchange grain for silver, are they to be left to the mercy of wealthy households and merchants who cut prices at will — or is the court to control the grain price? Has anyone considered how easy it is to exchange grain for silver, and how hard it is to exchange silver back for grain? Your servant has heard that the court’s silver reserve stands at barely one million taels, while wealthy households in Jiangnan already hold several hundred thousand taels each. If any person may hoard silver or cast their own ingots, whose silver is to set the standard?”
“Third: with a single decree from the court, silver can certainly be collected in full each year from every prefecture and county, with no more worrying about short measures and short weights. But silver, after all, can neither be eaten nor worn. When troops take to the field, from where are the silver payments to be converted into military grain?”
Though framed as questions, each flaw was laid bare within every line of inquiry.
When he finished his three points, the hall below broke into another round of debate.
The officials did not fail to understand these points. They had simply chosen not to say them aloud.
Only Deputy Official Gou was left standing there, his face drained of color, cold sweat beading down his face.
The Left Vice-Minister of the Ministry of Personnel, Lord Lu, stepped forward and said, “By your Majesty’s leave, your servant respectfully requests to debate with Lord Supervising Secretary Pei on the spot.” Vice-Minister Lu was past fifty, his complexion dark; his anger was barely contained.
“Granted.”
Pei Shaohuai had raised three points; Vice-Minister Lu intended to rebut them one by one.
“The matter of rectifying the conduct of petty clerks and minor officials — the Ministry of Personnel is already drafting oversight measures. With two new policies implemented side by side, order among officials and stability for the people can naturally be achieved.”
Pei Shaohuai simply replied, “Does Vice-Minister Lu not find these words a bit after-the-fact? Moreover, these two matters cannot proceed in parallel. First correct the people — then correct the taxes.”
“I understand that Lord Supervising Secretary Pei has also been to Jiangnan. Surely you know that silver ingots can be weighed, assayed, tested for color, and re-melted. With methods for determining weight and value, why fear inconsistency in worth?”
Vice-Minister Lu had intended this to expose Pei Shaohuai as ignorant and shortsighted, but Pei Shaohuai turned the question back: “We finally did away with a whole class of arithmetic clerks, only now to need people to weigh and assay silver — just as cumbersome a process as before. Is that not simply swapping one thing for another, creating the same opportunity for exploitation in a different form?”
He paused, then pressed on: “The fire loss from melting and re-casting silver — will that not be charged to the common people as well? By what standard will the fire-loss surcharge be set, and at what percentage?”
The one who had opened by questioning was Vice-Minister Lu himself — yet now it was Pei Shaohuai who had him at a loss for a reply.
Vice-Minister Lu could only press forward awkwardly to the next point: “The people of Jiangnan have long used silver in commerce. Why should farming households struggle to obtain silver?”
“If Vice-Minister Lu’s household possesses a thousand taels of silver, does that mean every household in the realm also possesses a thousand taels?” Pei Shaohuai replied. “In many frontier towns in the northwest, there is not even a proper market; often a single peddler goes from street to street trading goods for goods. How are the people of such places to obtain silver?”
After several such exchanges, the officials gathered below had finally understood: Pei Shaohuai had come prepared — or rather, he had wide experience and broad knowledge, a whole universe within his chest.
Vice-Minister Lu had lost the upper hand.
The officials began, one after another, to turn their gaze toward Pei Jue, the Minister of Personnel — would Minister Pei step forward and trade arguments with his own grand-nephew?
Those who knew of the ill feeling between the two branches of the family were especially eager to see how this would unfold.
But to everyone’s surprise, Pei Jue simply sat in contemplation, his gaze drifting toward the imperial dais, waiting for the Emperor to speak. He showed no sign of intending to enter the debate.
Before Vice-Minister Lu withdrew, he fired a parting question: “Lord Supervising Secretary Pei speaks only of drawbacks — yet as for the merits cited by our colleagues just now, why have you not refuted a single one?”
These words struck precisely at what Pei Shaohuai had meant to convey. He smiled, let his earlier edge fall away, and replied, “I never once said the new policy had no merits. What need was there to refute them?” From the very beginning, what he had said was this — it was not suitable for widespread implementation at this time.
In truth, Pei Shaohuai had never intended to overturn the new policy entirely. What he wanted was for the new policy to carry fewer drawbacks — to spare the common people from needless suffering.
“In your esteemed minister’s view, when would the time be right to levy taxes in silver?” the Emperor asked.
The court fell silent, all waiting for Pei Shaohuai to give his answer.
Speaking of problems without proposing solutions was not enough.
Pei Shaohuai replied, “By your Majesty’s leave, your servant believes that tax reforms ought to follow upon a replenished national treasury — not the other way around, using tax reform as the means of replenishing it. When Da Qing’s silver reserves are truly abundant, when every silver coin in the realm is minted by the court, circulating through the market like flowing water, with exchange and trade conducted on fair and equal terms — then the drawbacks your servant has raised will no longer exist.”
He added, “The right to mint currency must not be relinquished. The circulation of money and goods must not be allowed to stop.”