On one side, the Qi, Bao, and Chen families continued in succession to exchange toasts and negotiate prices with the cloth merchants; on the other side, word kept spreading that this batch of cotton cloth was tightly woven and resilient — quality of the finest grade, sure to fetch a good price — and furthermore that Shuang’an Prefecture’s merchant fleet had already decided to purchase the entire batch, and would be signing the contract any day now.
Just as Prefect Pei had said: to accept one year’s loss in exchange for a year-after-year supply of goods — this transaction was worthwhile.
And so Quanzhou Prefecture grew anxious.
The three great clans — Lin, Chen, and Shangguan — summoned Xie Jia to come up with a plan. Long accustomed to monopolizing and dominating on their own, they found business easy and effortless; now that they were deliberating over countermeasures, old habits died hard, and every word out of their mouths was about “cutting off others’ paths” and “making them understand the consequences.”
No matter how wide the road, only they were permitted to walk it.
Xie Jia did possess some craftiness, and he smelled something amiss. He advised, “I feel there is something suspicious here. You gentlemen had best observe and wait a while longer — send letters to the capital to inquire of the sons, students, and associates each family has in office there. Once you have replies, it will be more prudent to make a decision.”
He feared walking into a trap set by Shuang’an Prefecture.
“Prefect Xie’s caution is prudent, but a letter going back and forth will take no less than a month — by that time, I’m afraid there won’t even be scraps of cloth left,” said the Zhangzhou Chen clan elder.
In the end it was the Lin clan elder who showed the most decisive spirit. No longer willing to drag things out with all this hesitation, he slapped the table and said, “Since from the very beginning we decided to cut off their supply of goods, then let us cut it off completely — let those small merchants and petty traders outside not be able to buy so much as a single bolt of cloth, and let them understand clearly: what falls through the cracks of our fingers is all they are entitled to. To contend with us is to throw an egg against a rock.”
He continued: “If we let them get their hands on goods this year, would all the effort before have been for nothing? And would the money exchanges we threw in have been wasted?”
This rousing declaration made the other two clan elders considerably more resolute. The Shangguan clan elder said, “What our sworn brother says is most apt. They dare claim they will purchase this entire batch of goods — if we sit unmoved, won’t others think we lack the financial means?”
Once a crack opens, reasons pour through in endless succession to justify oneself.
To continue their monopoly, they could only absorb this batch of goods — otherwise all prior efforts would come to nothing.
Xie Jia, having heard the great clan elders speak, had been about to urge caution once more, but stopped himself. Within the web of relations in Fujian, his standing did not match these three clan elders.
Once the decision was made, the Shangguan family led the effort — two fully loaded ships of silver sailed directly to the Shuang’an Prefecture docks, announcing their intention to buy the cloth.
Under the sunlight, those chest after chest of white silver dazzled the eyes, drawing all the surrounding townspeople and porters to crowd around and watch.
Upon learning the purpose of their visit, Lin Yuan replied with apparent difficulty, “Gentlemen, you have come one step too late — our cloth has all been reserved. If you are genuinely interested in buying, you will have to wait until next year.”
“All reserved?” the Shangguan clansman asked. “Has a contract been signed? Or has payment been received?”
“Neither,” Lin Yuan replied. “But business values the word ‘honesty’ — what has been verbally agreed, it would not do to go back on.”
“You are mistaken, sir. Business does not value the word ‘honesty’ — it values the word ‘profit.’ Whenever fine goods are in high demand, holding out for the best price is perfectly customary. Name your price, Lin sir.”
“Surely these gentlemen are making things difficult for me?” Lin Yuan feigned hesitation, but inwardly he was beaming with joy. Keeping his cousin’s instructions firmly in mind, he turned and held up three fingers — silently raising the price by another thirty percent.
“Done.”
The fleet delivered the fifty thousand bolts of cotton cloth to the Quanzhou docks, heading steadily northward; Shuang’an Bay grew empty once more.
The newly laid embankments and freshly leveled docks stood with no ships entering or berthing at the harbor — no goods arriving, no goods departing. The newer the construction, the more desolate it seemed.
By the time the Qi, Chen, and Bao families received the news and hurried over, the ships were gone, the cloth was gone — all that remained was a large group of workers with towels draped over their shoulders, sitting in clusters on the shore stones chatting idly with nothing to do.
“Lin sir, this is no way to conduct business — you had clearly agreed to sell the cloth to us,” said Elder Qi, a stomach full of resentment, yet helpless to do anything about it, so that in the end it became nothing but a long sigh.
“Calm down, gentlemen,” Lin Yuan said. “I agreed to you — I never said I was going back on my word. Why are you taking such great offense at me?”
The three clan elders took a moment to come back to their senses, staring blankly at the empty sea bay and pointing: “But all the cotton cloth has been taken away…”
“I never said there were only fifty thousand bolts of cotton cloth.”
“Then Lin sir’s meaning is…”
“The goods I promised you will certainly be delivered on time. As an expression of my apology, I am willing to reduce the price a little.”
What had begun as “demanding an explanation in righteous indignation” had somehow turned into “expressing gratitude” and “an unexpected pleasant surprise.”
At the Quanzhou harbor, large ships stood like caves, and porters swarmed like worker ants, busying themselves without rest.
It took several consecutive days of unloading before the fifty thousand bolts of cotton cloth were finally transported back into the storage warehouses, and the empty ships had barely sailed out of Quanzhou harbor when news arrived — another large fleet was sailing south in a magnificent procession, heading into Shuang’an Bay.
The ships were loaded from bow to stern entirely with bolts of cotton cloth.
One moment the Shangguan clan elder had been touring the warehouses, touching the bright red cloth and saying this deal had been no loss and would certainly recoup the investment. The next moment, upon hearing the news, his face turned ashen. His aged body beat against the bolts of cloth — thud, thud — the sound reverberating.
The veins of blood in his eyes were redder than the cloth itself.
Their three families had pooled their resources to purchase fifty thousand bolts of cotton cloth at a high price; surely they could not continue to absorb another hundred thousand bolts? And if after the hundred thousand bolts, more cotton cloth kept arriving — what then?
This unceasing flow of goods was like a living spring at its source — how could it ever be cut off?
This time, they had walked squarely into the trap.
What infuriated them even more was that compared to the first batch, the asking price on the second batch was absurdly low — simply the ordinary market rate, quality goods at a reasonable price.
That very night, the ships of the minor families and smaller clans poured into Shuang’an Bay one after another, scrambling in competition to reserve the cloth. A small clan with two or three medium-sized ships needed only a few thousand bolts to fill the holds — and one voyage at sea would not be a loss.
On both sides of the newly constructed dock roads, torches burned all through the night, like fire dragons in the darkness, stretching from the bay all the way into Tong’an City.
Small merchants lined up to receive their cloth tickets, then brought their people and ships forward to take delivery and count the goods. People came and went in a ceaseless flow — no matter how many workers there were, it was never enough. The more the docks bustled, the more eerily empty Tong’an City itself seemed in contrast.
Upon hearing that the locals said they had been unable to buy tea this year — not so much as a single catty to be had — Lin Yuan stepped forward and said, “If you trust me, I still have a batch of tea in Yangzhou that hasn’t been shipped out yet. If you want it, I’ll have them bring it here.” He counted on his fingers and added, “It should still make it before the late-winter northern winds.”
And so, having just finished reserving their cotton cloth, everyone began scrambling to reserve tea.
As long as the seas are open and ships may sail freely — in this world, there are only goods in search of silver, never silver in search of goods. How could blocking a bridge, a road, or a pass ever seal off the whole of southern Fujian?
As for the two ships of silver sent by Quanzhou Prefecture — they had already been delivered to the Shuang’an Prefecture yamen.
Yan Chengzhao was specifically summoned; he arrived to find Pei Shaohuai leading a group of people in tallying the count. He asked, “You had me come all this way at night just to watch this?”
Pei Shaohuai nodded matter-of-factly: “This silver was earned through honest and legitimate means — it is all to be handed over to the public treasury for use in opening the seas. I need Commander Yan to serve as my witness.”
Yan Chengzhao said nothing, turned, and went to Pei Shaohuai’s inner chamber to brew and drink tea on his own.
Half an hour later, Pei Shaohuai finished counting the silver and returned. Yan Chengzhao said, “Is Prefect Pei free to discuss proper matters now?”
Banter aside, Pei Shaohuai had made a special point of summoning Yan Chengzhao over — it could not have been solely to “serve as a witness.”
“My apologies for keeping Commander Yan waiting.” Pei Shaohuai was just about to pour himself a cup of tea, only to find the pot empty, with nothing left but tea dregs.
He closed the door and said, “I have a conjecture I would like to discuss with Commander Yan.”
“About the mastermind behind it all?” Yan Chengzhao asked.
Pei Shaohuai nodded and began to pace, reasoning aloud: “The last time, it was Pei Jue who came south on an inspection — and it concluded with the Provincial Administration Commissioner hanging himself in his own mountain villa, all guilt severed by a single length of white cloth. These past few nights I have been thinking: might the opposing side use the same trick again — concentrate the guilt of many onto one person’s shoulders, and push that person forward as a scapegoat?”
At this point, rice prices had stabilized, the sea merchants had their supply of goods, the harbor was under construction, and the situation was looking entirely favorable. With an inevitable victory came an inevitable defeat — the opposing side, routed, their crimes towering to the sky, would face a reckoning once the seas were opened.
They would certainly have preparations in place to handle it, and break off a tail to survive.
During this period, the Southern Brocade Guard had been conducting covert investigations without the faintest lead. Pei Shaohuai thought: rather than continuing this aimless covert search, it would be better to reason carefully, identify the right position, and wait for the opportunity to present itself.
Yan Chengzhao’s eyes lit up slightly — he felt there was something to Pei Shaohuai’s reasoning. For the opposing side to find a scapegoat, that scapegoat would inevitably let something slip.
The key was to locate this scapegoat before he died or was reduced to a babbling fool, and then wait for the wolves to come knocking.
Yan Chengzhao said, “The new Provincial Administration Commissioner has been cautious and steady in his duties, keeping himself thoroughly above reproach in all matters — however one argues it, the blame cannot fall on him.” They had already hanged one Provincial Administration Commissioner; a second one would not die in the same manner.
Besides, the scale of crimes this time — how could a single person bear it all?
As for Xie Jia of Quanzhou Prefecture — he was at most an ember in a pile of kindling; he could hardly serve as a proper scapegoat.
Yan Chengzhao continued: “Since Prefect Pei has raised this, no doubt you already have something in mind.”
In the deep of night, the entire prefectural yamen was utterly still — so quiet that the sound of the night watchman’s drum in a distant alley could be heard. Pei Shaohuai lowered his voice and asked as a way of guiding the reasoning, “In Commander Yan’s estimation, how much silver have those who monopolized the Maritime Trade Commission of Quanzhou for decades — with sea ships coming and going year after year — amassed in ill-gotten gains? And to evade the court’s scrutiny, how would one launder this silver and tuck it away into one’s own pockets?”
Yan Chengzhao had no particular sense for matters of silver, but this journey south had opened his eyes to the abundance of profits in trade.
He was a man who preferred to sit quietly, yet even he, catching Pei Shaohuai’s energy, began to pace in thought.
“If one were to speak of the place in Fujian where silver flows fastest and in the greatest volume, it would be the Salt Transport Commission,” Yan Chengzhao said.
Anything connected to salt and iron was not only easy to profit from, but also easy to manipulate — with all manner of underhanded dealings concealed beneath cartload after cartload of sea salt.
“My thoughts exactly.” Pei Shaohuai nodded. He too felt the Salt Transport Commission was the place to start, and continued, “As for the scapegoat — if a single individual is insufficient to bear all the guilt, has it occurred to Commander Yan that the opposing side might push an entire local clan forward to take the fall?”
A powerful local clan, with sons and students serving in official positions in the capital, clansmen established and influential in Fujian, and sea ships bringing in wealthy profits from overseas — with power, money, and influence all in abundance, whatever crimes were pinned on them could be made to fit.
Wipe out an entire family, and the court and common people alike would have the impression that the cancer had been thoroughly purged.
“So Prefect Pei’s meaning is — have me keep watch over the Salt Transport Commission and a certain great clan, and wait for them to reveal themselves?”
“Precisely,” Pei Shaohuai said. “Xie Jia is a cunning man, not the sort who is loyal to any ‘master.’ It would be worth applying some more pressure on him as well — he may yet have some surprises in store.”