The proposal to send silver coins abroad to promote their circulation was no sooner submitted than it met with pushback from more than half the court censors. The opposition was far more heated than anything that had come before — and the objections were delivered with great conviction.
There was nothing unusual about this. In the cases of minting silver coins and reforming the tribute system, Pei Shaohuai had remonstrated with solid evidence and sound reasoning, leaving the officials little room to dispute him. But this time, his proposal to let silver coins flow outward was at odds with Da Qing’s longstanding monetary laws across every dynasty.
Wealth was precious — and the idea of guarding one’s wealth to preserve one’s fortune had taken root deep in the hearts of Da Qing’s people.
Most court officials shared this view.
What began as a routine morning court session turned into an upheaval the moment Pei Shaohuai made his argument — the censors were in an uproar, each unleashing a torrent of words.
The Supervising Secretary of Revenue said, “Since the Tang and Song dynasties, Da Qing has been beset by a chronic shortage of copper coins. The various foreign nations have no means of minting their own currency and have always coveted Da Qing’s copper coins. At every frontier pass this has been a persistent problem — lawbreakers have repeatedly smuggled coins abroad to sell, worsening the shortage still further.”
He continued, “Copper is in short supply. The Southern Court of the Imperial Stud used hundreds of thousands of jin of old copper vessels from the inner palace to cast coins. The Emperor, in his benevolence, permitted the circulation of coins from previous dynasties — and only at such cost was the coin shortage somewhat eased.”
What the Supervising Secretary of Revenue said was not false. Most neighboring foreign nations were incapable of minting their own currency, and Da Qing’s coins were extremely sought-after, and frequently flowed out of the country.
On the matter of silver coins, the Supervising Secretary of Revenue continued, “I cannot deny that Supervising Secretary Pei’s foresight is exceptional — in just one or two years he has achieved the circulation of silver coins within Da Qing, facilitating large transactions and making the exchange of goods among the people considerably smoother. Yet to allow silver coins to flow outward at this juncture — if it results in a shortage of silver coins within Da Qing, would this not undo all the progress that has been made, only to see old problems return?” He was drawing an analogy between silver coins and copper coins.
The Right Censor-in-Chief concurred, saying, “The Song dynasty poet Lv Nangong once wrote a verse voicing the suffering of the people during a coin shortage. At such times, a single copper coin was heavier than a mountain — one might have a bundle of grain in the house and yet suffer the bitterness of a year of plenty without buyers. The poem read: ‘Three times to market, three times home again with burdens — in earnest have I cut my price, yet find no buyers.’ Your Majesty, silver coins must not merely be refused as gifts abroad — they must be strictly guarded and protected against outflow.”
What the Censor-in-Chief referenced was historically accurate. The coin shortage during the Song dynasty was particularly severe — the court not only strictly prohibited the export of copper coins, but also forbade the private ownership of copper objects; those who privately hoarded even one liang faced eighty strokes of the rod.
Yet the stricter the prohibition, the more the aristocratic households and powerful clans prized copper, and a single copper coin came to be valued far beyond its face worth — so much so that people who got their hands on copper coins dared not spend them freely. And so the finest grain “three times to market, three times home again with burdens — in earnest have I cut my price, yet find no buyers” — the exchange of goods through copper coins was gravely obstructed.
When the wealthy obtained copper cash, they commonly hoarded it in vaults at home, sitting on a nest of supposed riches.
Since silver coins were worth even more than copper coins — usable not only as currency but also for crafting all manner of jewelry — many officials quite naturally assumed that a silver-coin shortage would be even worse than a copper-coin shortage had been.
Pei Shaohuai stood before the assembled court and listened respectfully to the objections. Today’s debate was unlike previous ones — it had little to do with factional politics and was a genuine discussion of new court policy.
In his view, the Song dynasty should have pried open those hoarding vaults rather than imposing strict bans on copper — the more strictly it was prohibited, the more valuable it became, and the more valuable it became, the more people hoarded it.
A currency that does not circulate has lost its purpose — like a pool of stagnant water.
In any case, the present discussion concerned silver coins, not copper. Pei Shaohuai turned to the Right Censor-in-Chief and asked, “Your servant ventures to ask the Censor-in-Chief — the great households of the Song dynasty who sealed millions of copper coins into vaults and never used them: was such conduct proper?”
The Censor-in-Chief deliberated carefully before answering. He knew that the young Supervising Secretary before him was a formidable debater, not to be underestimated, and he was wary of being led into a trap. After a pause, the Right Censor-in-Chief said, “It certainly was not proper. A square-holed copper coin cannot warm you against the cold, nor feed you when you are hungry. Buried in a cellar and never seeing daylight — what use is that? Currency is like the living water of a spring — if it does not flow, it stagnates and dries up.”
So this Right Censor-in-Chief had genuine substance.
Yet for all his caution, he had still walked into Pei Shaohuai’s line of reasoning. Pei Shaohuai first laid out the facts: “Da Qing has few silver mines — annual domestic silver production amounts to no more than three hundred thousand taels. Yet last year, the Baoquan Bureau alone received more than three hundred thousand taels of silver from overseas. If no silver were flowing in from abroad, where would all of this have come from? Furthermore, last year the Taicang port collected in ship taxes alone more than five hundred thousand taels, much of it from the eastern and southern seas. Copper coins were prone to shortage precisely because they only went out and never came in — the court lacked copper while the people hoarded it. Now silver both flows in and out, with more coming in than going out. How can it be compared to copper in the same breath?”
Pei Shaohuai continued, “Just as the Censor-in-Chief has said — currency must not be sealed in a cellar to rust and rot. If silver keeps flowing into Da Qing without being put to use, how is that different from hoarding copper in a vault?”
In weaving, there were silk and linen fabrics; in goods, there were ceramics and earthenware jars; in food, there were malt sugar and dried fruit; in learning, there were brush, ink, paper, and inkstone… These items, commonplace in Da Qing, were extraordinarily sought after when brought overseas, and merchant ships returned home fully laden.
Even with only Taicang and Songjiang’s sea prohibitions partially lifted — a single small opening — silver poured in like a whirlpool rushing through a channel.
“Silver coins in circulation bring benefit to the people — why would anyone be opposed to that? As long as silver flows in, and the court holds the power to mint currency, it is like having a living spring at its source. Why fear a shortage of silver coins?” Pei Shaohuai posed two questions in succession, then concluded, “Prohibiting the circulation of silver coins is like clutching sand — the tighter you squeeze, the faster it slips away. The moment such a ban is issued, the people will see hoarding silver coins as profitable, the wealthy households will once again vault their silver coins away, and everything will stagnate and clog — the very opposite of what is intended.”
The power of minting lay with the court — there was no fear of there being too few silver coins. The only thing to fear was people refusing to use them.
When Pei Shaohuai reached the key points of his argument, he could not help making gestures with his hands, his wide sleeves swaying with the movement, his bearing upright and composed — adding a touch of youthful vigor to his manner.
He was already beginning to carry himself with the bearing of a seasoned official.
The civil and military officials once again witnessed the broad knowledge and eloquent command of this young Supervising Secretary.
Of course, more officials stepped forward to argue with Pei Shaohuai — but each was talked back. The Right Censor-in-Chief, having been persuaded, changed sides entirely, and spontaneously began speaking up for Pei Shaohuai at key moments.
The Emperor nodded, but did not move to settle the matter immediately. He said with authority, “Regardless of which view our dear ministers hold, all are governed by devotion to the nation and care for the people. The more thoroughly such matters are debated, the clearer they become, and We are greatly gratified.” Such debate at court was the kind that put one at ease.
The Emperor then said, “We shall give this matter further consideration and discuss it again another day.”
After morning court, the Emperor summoned Pei Shaohuai alone to the Imperial Study for a private audience.
When Pei Shaohuai arrived, the Emperor was already eating a piece of Suzhou-style green bean cake, having taken a bite.
The Emperor looked up as Pei Shaohuai entered, swallowed, and said, “We cannot eat alone — does Beloved Subject Xiao Pei want a piece?” Without waiting for Pei Shaohuai to decline, the Emperor immediately said, “Xiao Jin, bring the cakes over and let Supervising Secretary Pei try one.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Pei Shaohuai hastily bowed in thanks, drew back his long sleeve, and took a piece of green bean cake from the plate.
And so sovereign and subject sat there, each eating a piece of green bean cake in the Imperial Study — and Pei Shaohuai, thinking on the scene, found it both absurd and amusing.
During this time, a eunuch came in to report that Grand Secretary Lou was requesting an audience, but the Emperor waved his sleeve and said, “Tell him We are in the middle of an important consultation — let him come again this afternoon.” Then he went on eating green bean cake, muttering, “Already scheming after the position of Minister of Revenue…”
Pei Shaohuai could not tell if the Emperor was talking to himself or deliberately speaking for Pei Shaohuai to hear, so he did not venture a reply.
“Beloved Subject Xiao Pei — what you said at morning court was not entirely clear to Us. We have summoned you specifically to hear it again.” The Emperor said.
The Emperor had oversight of everything, yet could not be an expert in everything — failing to follow along at first hearing was natural.
Pei Shaohuai wished to explain it in plain, accessible terms, and so said, “Your Majesty may think of it this way — imagine there is a village with a few households…”
Before Pei Shaohuai could continue, the Emperor said bluntly, “Beloved Subject Pei, just speak to me plainly. Last time, those few scoundrels cost me considerable effort to puzzle out.”
He was afraid that the households in Pei Shaohuai’s village would again turn out to be less than admirable characters.
Pei Shaohuai could not help a rueful smile, lamenting that he could no longer use analogies in his counsel. After carefully choosing his words, he explained in detail what he had argued at morning court — what a trade surplus was, why silver flowed into Da Qing, and what the drawbacks were to Da Qing of selling without buying.
After each explanation, the Emperor would pause to reflect, then ask a question.
As the exchange continued, Pei Shaohuai went on to explain the benefits of silver coin circulation — how the people’s commerce would give rise to workshops, and how workshops would create more livelihoods… Many things that seemed unrelated were connected by a single silver coin.
When Pei Shaohuai finished, he suddenly realized that he had not been guarding his words about “commerce.” Fortunately, the Emperor’s expression remained unchanged.
There were things that could not be said openly at court but could be said to the Emperor in private. Pei Shaohuai continued, “Your Majesty — consider this: a one-tael Da Qing silver coin can be exchanged for one tael and two fen of foreign silver, and since the coin itself contains only nine-tenths silver, you net three fen of silver in pure profit — far exceeding the cost of minting, fuel, and labor.” Even setting aside commercial trade, in the exchange of silver coins for foreign silver alone, Da Qing came out ahead.
He then said, “At present, the people can use silver coins to obtain more goods; the foreigners receive silver coins; the people get what they need; and the national treasury grows rather than shrinks. This is a gain for both the court and the people.”
This last point the Emperor understood most clearly of all, and his eyes brightened.
After a long silence, the Emperor said thoughtfully, “First reform the tribute policy, then send silver coins outward — We somehow feel that Beloved Subject Pei’s next step is to petition for the full opening of the seas.”
The Emperor was no fool — he had seen through to Pei Shaohuai’s intention.
Pei Shaohuai immediately seized the moment and bowed, saying with complete candor, “Your Majesty is most perceptive.”
“Beloved Subject Pei does not wish to explain himself?”
Pei Shaohuai shook his head. Admitting it directly was quicker.
“Very well.” The Emperor said, “Then as Beloved Subject Pei has proposed — bestow silver coins upon the foreign tributary nations, and permit the people to buy and sell goods with the foreigners using silver coins. The Baoquan Bureau may begin considering the design for the gift coins.”
Pei Shaohuai thought to himself that since the purpose was to spread the silver coins’ use, it would be best to retain the original design — the reverse side should still bear the stalks of rice, the Yellow River, Mount Tai, the imperial palace, and the coiled dragon. The front face, however, could be inscribed with something like “Bestowed by the Da Qing Emperor upon [Name of Foreign Nation].”
Pressing his advantage, Pei Shaohuai asked, “Your Majesty… and what of the full opening of the seas?”
The Emperor laughed. “Beloved Subject Pei’s calculations are quite something — hoping one sentence will spare you from writing out a whole petition.”
“Your servant would not dare.”
“Then write it properly, and We will discuss it after the petition is submitted.”
“Your servant obeys.”
After Pei Shaohuai left, the Emperor summoned Head Eunuch Xiao and said, “Convey Our edict — summon the Minister of War to the palace immediately.” He did a quick count of the days and murmured, “He’s been lying at home for ten days — Zhang Lingyi, that slippery fellow, has surely rested long enough.”
Having heard Pei Shaohuai’s words, the Emperor understood that by minting silver coins, Da Qing could draw a steady flow of wealth from overseas — the Baoquan Bureau had become the highest priority.
He would have Zhang Lingyi increase the garrison there to keep a strict watch.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Pei Shaohuai returned to the Office of Scrutiny. From a distance, he noticed someone standing inside his office — a silhouette that seemed somewhat familiar.
He thought at first he must be mistaken.
Walking closer, he confirmed it — it was indeed the Minister of Personnel, Pei Jue.
Pei Jue noticed Pei Shaohuai as well, his expression unchanged.
Pei Shaohuai gave a slight raise of his hands in a brief bow, and said with polite formality, “Minister Pei honors me with his presence — I wonder what brings you to see me?”