Two months had passed, and Chang’an remained in a state of depression. In the Western Market, aside from the Hu merchant girls who continued to hawk their wares energetically, no other southern or northern accents could be heard amidst the usual cacophony. The number of people browsing the market had decreased considerably. Looking at the mountains of accumulated goods and the endless caravans still arriving, the faces of the Hu merchants no longer bore their former cheerful smiles. The Hu girls wore increasingly scanty clothing and twisted their waists with increasing frequency. Unfortunately, the noble families were all constraining their sons and nephews, forbidding them from going to the brothels and markets.

Yun Ye no longer had a share in the Cheap Shop supermarket, nor did Old He, who had always followed in Yun Ye’s footsteps. As soon as Yun Ye withdrew his thirty percent stake, Old He didn’t hesitate to sell off his twenty percent share to others. Among the Chang’an nobility, there were plenty of people waiting with money in hand. These fifty percent shares were sold off in very small pieces—half a percent at a time—so the price was considerably higher. Everyone wanted to find a permanent source of income for their descendants, and the Cheap Shop was undoubtedly the best choice.

To buy things anywhere but one’s own family shop would mark one as a wastrel. The Cheap Shop had everything, was conveniently located nearby, and sold quality goods—there was no need to shop elsewhere. Shareholders received discounts on their purchases, making things much cheaper than outside. They could take goods and settle accounts at the end of the month, with the costs deducted from their dividends. On that day each month, either the family patriarch or the lady of the house would wait at home for the Cheap Shop’s manager to come calling. Detailed accounts showed exactly how much the household had consumed and spent that month, fundamentally eliminating any possibility of the household stewards skimming off the top. With living standards not decreasing but actually rising, expenses had been reduced by ten percent.

After these patriarchs and ladies of the house discovered this function, they absolutely forbade purchasing anything outside that could be bought at the Cheap Shop. The Cheap Shop’s manager promptly introduced detailed consumption statements for wealthy households—as long as consumption reached a certain amount, an account statement would be delivered to the household at month’s end. This received high praise from these wealthy families.

The major shareholder of the Cheap Shop was a woman named Mingyue. She never involved herself in management, but spent five days each month riding in a carriage around Chang’an city, inspecting all the shops, then returning to the palace together with the carriages loaded with silver or gold. Note: returning *to the palace*. If the Chang’an nobility still didn’t know that Mingyue was the Empress’s personal maidservant by now, they would be laughed at.

Outside, shops related to daily necessities were all shrinking. Grain prices had already fallen to a dangerous level. At this time, the greatly benevolent and compassionate Empress, in order to store up grain for disaster years, allocated large sums of silver from the inner palace treasury to purchase grain throughout Chang’an. Whether wheat, beans, or millet—it didn’t matter, she wanted it all. The price exceeded the market rate by ten percent. The grain merchants wailed in anguish, but not because of the price—Her Majesty only purchased grain from farming households, not from merchants. The farmers who had previously suffered exploitation by grain merchants now carried their loads and drove their ox carts, not even glancing at the grain merchants as they sold all their surplus grain to the Empress.

When the Empress rode around the granaries in her small carriage covered with light gauze, His Majesty the Emperor also issued an edict commanding all prefectures and provinces throughout the realm—except for disaster-stricken areas requiring relief—to purchase surplus grain from the common people at prices ten percent above market rate. They must not allow farmers to suffer losses. As for merchants, the imperial decree made no mention of them, so they fell outside the scope of official assistance.

“Your Majesty, this year we have purchased a total of one million seven hundred thirty thousand dan of grain. This is likely all the surplus grain in Guanzhong. Whether wheat, beans, or millet, it’s all first-rate quality grain.” The granary official took a long probe and casually thrust it into a grain pile. After withdrawing it, he presented it to a palace maid to deliver to the Empress for inspection.

The probe was sent in, and Zhangsun poured the grain from the probe into a silver plate, using her hand to spread it flat for examination. The wheat kernels were plump and dry. She twisted a few kernels and chewed them—very good, no mold, no strange odor. This was indeed quality grain.

Zhangsun stood up and lifted the light gauze, gazing at the densely packed granaries somewhat lost in thought. Even in her dreams, she had never imagined that relying solely on the inner palace treasury, they could purchase all the surplus grain of Guanzhong. With grain in the household, there was no need to panic about anything. The common people hadn’t suffered losses, while whether others lived or died in this great upheaval—who cared about them? After drinking the people’s blood for so many years, how could they not spit some back out?

The Great Tang remained essentially a huge self-sufficient extended family model. Military equipment had the Armory Bureau, ships and bridges had the Directorate of Construction. As long as money and grain were sufficient, there would be no major problems under heaven.

Yun Ye had spoken of reshuffling the cards—she didn’t know what “reshuffling” meant exactly, but in general it meant reorganizing the merchants and driving the great families’ influence out from among the merchant class. Regarding the great families, clearly Yun Ye found them as tiresome as she did.

By the end of the ninth month, many Chang’an merchants who had been on the verge of hanging themselves suddenly became cheerful. In recent days, those great families they had relied upon as backers had begun withdrawing their investments one after another, very decisively. Some shameless ones even tried to calculate their nominal shares as money to be withdrawn. A master named Huang Zhi’en had opened a shop called a money house. It was said to have powerful backing and innumerable wealth. Seeing that the merchants’ days were difficult and unable to bear watching them go bankrupt one by one, he decided to lend his money to merchants for working capital. Any merchant in need could bring items for collateral and receive cash on the spot—no delays, no procrastination. It was said the interest rates weren’t high either. Could such a good thing exist? Was this not a scam?

Manager Cao of Jinfeng Trading could truly hold out no longer. The Dai family had withdrawn their shares and, regardless of whether the Cao family lived or died, had swept away all the money Jinfeng Trading used for purchasing inventory. They had even confiscated the Cao family’s savings accumulated over many years. Only after seeing that the Cao family truly had no more oil to squeeze did they finally desist.

Winter was now approaching—precisely when Jinfeng Trading’s hemp cloth business should be thriving. It was time to purchase hemp cloth, but the shop couldn’t produce the cash. If they couldn’t get through this year, Jinfeng Trading would go bankrupt, and his wife and children might even be sentenced by officials to become slaves. Right now, as long as someone could inject capital into Jinfeng Trading, even if it were a demon, Manager Cao would accept it.

Gritting his teeth, he said to the surrounding merchants watching: “Fellow managers, the Cao family cannot hold out any longer. Even if it’s the gates of hell, this old Cao must charge through. I’ll scout the path for everyone. In these times, there’s simply no way for us to survive.”

The other observing managers all bowed respectfully, watching as Manager Cao entered that magnificent gate with a face full of grief and indignation. He no longer hoped for any good outcome for Jinfeng Trading—he only prayed that his wife and children could escape calamity. That would count as success.

As soon as he entered the gate, a clerk in blue clothing came forward to greet him, leading him into a side hall. Through the latticework windows, he could see many counters in the main hall. Behind each counter sat a bookkeeper, several of whom were acquaintances—only now they all wore blue clothing, sitting behind counters drinking tea and waiting for customers. Above the counters, iron wires were strung, with bamboo clips attached holding various paper slips—he didn’t know what purpose they served. On the desks were strange objects—frames containing strings of beads divided into upper and lower sections—he also didn’t know what these were for. The eerie silence almost made Old Cao want to turn and flee.

The clerk brought him blue-green tea water, which immediately calmed his heart. This was something only the Yun family had—he had seen it before. The manager of Ruiyuan Trading had some dealings with the Yun family and had been gifted a small tube by the Yun household steward—an inch thick, half a foot long bamboo tube. Ever since Old Ma obtained it, he had shown it off to everyone once, only letting them smell it, not inviting anyone to drink it.

This tea was never sold outside. It was said to only be given to the imperial palace, the academy, and some close elders—no one else should even think about it. Ruiyuan Trading had such good fortune! The Yun family had taken a share in their business. This time when the Yun family withdrew their investment, they didn’t take the money but gave Old Ma a full three years. That son of a dog had such good fortune!

Old Cao’s hands trembled with excitement. If this business belonged to the Yun family, things couldn’t be too bad. The Yun family was famous in Chang’an for their benevolence. Although the Marquis had a bit of a temper, that was the proper temperament for a young high official. He had the reputation of being one of the “Three Scourges of Chang’an,” but no one had seen him bully anyone—he had just beaten up two people who didn’t have eyes. That didn’t count for much. Judging from Ruiyuan Trading’s circumstances, the Yun family’s reputation for benevolence was not false.

Huang Zhi’en entered the side hall with a smile and said to Old Cao: “Old Cao, although we haven’t met before, I’ve heard of Jinfeng Trading’s reputation. I am Huang Zhi’en, courtesy name Pengyang. Just call me Old Huang.”

“Brother Huang, this younger brother has truly reached the end of his rope. This storm is about to drown me. I beg Brother Huang to extend a helping hand. This younger brother will be eternally grateful—I’ll remember Brother Huang’s kindness for eight generations.”

“Since Brother Cao is anxious, this younger brother won’t speak in pleasantries. In this money house, my status is the same as yours, Old Cao—we’re both managers. You’re not only a manager but also a proprietor, while I’m just a manager. Don’t ask whose establishment this is. I can only tell you that every single coin here is clean money, so rest assured. To borrow money, you need collateral. I wonder if Brother Cao has items for collateral?”

Manager Cao was a businessman—how could he not understand these principles? His bundle had long been prepared with land deeds, house deeds, and shop contracts, hoping to use these things to borrow sufficient funds.

A bookkeeper came over and took Old Cao’s various contracts away to calculate. Old Cao watched his last remaining assets with eager eyes, praying in his heart that they could calculate a bit more. His land deeds and house deeds were worth at most eight hundred strings of cash—he had long known this. Success or failure depended entirely on how much the shop could be mortgaged for. Eight hundred strings was far from enough.

In anxious waiting, Old Cao took a sip of tea to moisten his parched lips. He didn’t taste the tea at all—he only saw his various contracts sliding back and forth on the iron wires, quite lively. After a dense series of clicking sounds, his items slid along the iron wire to Huang Zhi’en’s hand. Removing the items from the clip, Huang Zhi’en glanced at them, returned the contracts to Manager Cao, and asked: “Brother Cao, I’m aware of your recent circumstances. How much do you plan to borrow?”

“To be honest with Brother Huang, this younger brother urgently needs cash to purchase hemp cloth. There are only a few days left until the purchasing deadline. If I could borrow two thousand strings to resolve this urgent crisis, that would be excellent.”