On the first day of the tenth month of the eleventh year of Jinghan, the Cold Clothes Festival.

Winter’s Start had only just passed. The autumn chill had not yet fully descended, but the scenery of late autumn now looked ever more desolate. The rice in the fields had long since been harvested, and the trees were shedding their last leaves. Among the mountain ridges, the splendid garb of autumn had also faded, its colors turning to a somber, ashen grey. The great river rolled on, and the roads and villages along its banks now wore a look of ruin. A fleet of boats was making its way down the Huai River.

The fleet was made up of six vessels, and perhaps because of official backing, soldiers stood guard on every one of them. Because the cargo they carried was heavy, the boats sat quite low in the water. On the foremost of the large ships, a group of richly dressed young men stood at the rail looking toward the shore, while another young man was speaking to the group.

“Not much further ahead, everyone will be able to see that village. There’s a statue of Guanyin at the edge of the village — this year’s flooding submerged the village, and the statue toppled too. But afterward, with no grain left, many people still came to worship Guanyin. The government has been distributing porridge there every day. I passed through here a few days ago on my way back, and saw quite a number of people…”

The great river pressed onward, and as it rounded a small bend ahead, the ruined walls came into view. The village that once stood there was now destroyed, leaving only broken stretches of low wall. The statue of Guanyin at the village’s edge had snapped in two, one half planted in the mud. Inside and outside the village, many people gathered, their clothes ragged, their bodies gaunt and weak. Some carried bundles of belongings, large and small. By the riverbank stood a platform where porridge was currently being distributed, with an official boat moored beside it.

A suffocating clamor drifted over from that direction.

Hunger is an unbearable agony, but when it manifests outwardly, it does not drive people to hysteria — because the strength for hysteria has already been drained from them. It was not yet time for the porridge to be served, and these starving refugees had gathered in and around the village, some sitting, some lying down. Adults held children in their arms; husbands embraced their wives; whole families huddled together, with barely enough strength left to speak. But because of the crowd, a few children still cried, and a small number of adults let out wails as well. The atmosphere that had formed within this mass of people was enough to make one’s scalp prickle.

The young nobles on the boat watched this scene, some falling silent, others murmuring, “A couple years back, there was famine where we’re from too…”

“There’s no need for you gentlemen to grieve too much over this scene. Although the government’s relief grain is scarce right now, among these people, there haven’t really been any deaths from starvation yet — it’s just difficult for them to eat their fill.” The young man spoke up to comfort them at the right moment, then continued, “It’s just that the weather is visibly turning colder, and the grain prices nearby have already risen to thirty-six taels per picul…”

“Hmph, if it starts snowing, it could rise to three hundred sixty taels! How many people could survive a winter like that!” someone grunted gruffly. It was a sturdy-looking man in the crowd — though decently dressed, he clearly looked like someone accustomed to working the fields, a man of real physical strength. Speaking of this, a shadow of gloom crossed his brow.

Most of the others could guess as much. It was at this moment that a rather elegant young man, who had been standing by the rail, walked over. “The grain my Puyang family has shipped here this time totals five hundred piculs. I’m willing to donate three hundred piculs of it as relief for these people, and sell the remaining two hundred at a low price to recoup costs. From now on, the fifteen hundred piculs my Puyang family is currently purchasing will also be handled the same way.” The one speaking was none other than Puyang Yi, heir of the Puyang family of Jiangning.

The moment he said this, someone in the crowd immediately spoke up: “My family will donate all of ours!”

Just as others were about to follow suit, the young man who had spoken earlier waved his hands hurriedly. “Everyone! Everyone! Please, hear me out. Your intentions are admirable, and I’m sure the disaster victims here will be deeply grateful — but hear me out, you mustn’t donate it all.”

Seeing that everyone had turned to look at him, he continued, “Before we set out this time, my employer emphasized again and again that the key to this relief effort isn’t how much grain we hand over to the government, but genuinely driving the grain price down. The more grain we bring, the better — but on one hand, it can only be sold, not given away outright, and on the other, it mustn’t be sold too cheaply either. This matter is to be decided by Lord He in the city, but in my humble opinion, with the price at thirty-six taels, we’ll likely only be able to bring it down to around thirty taels — and only once it reaches thirty can we push it lower still. If you gentlemen sell your grain for just a few taels a picul, I guarantee you, within a single day, ninety percent of it will be swallowed up by the hoarding merchants and grain magnates. That wouldn’t just fail to help — it would only embolden them further.”

This logic was something the others could grasp easily enough. The young man paused, then went on, “That said, once you gentlemen arrive, there are some matters where Lord He will likely need your help. With the disaster spreading, the relief efforts in the city are short-handed, and there have already been a few incidents that nearly caused chaos and injuries. In the coming days, you gentlemen might consider going outside the city walls to help serve porridge with your own hands. Both Lord He and my employer have said that since you’ve come all this way, doing the work yourselves carries a different meaning. Lord He will absolutely guarantee your safety — that much you can rest assured of.”

Once a disaster grows severe, the city gates are inevitably sealed, and serving porridge outside the walls carries real risk. The group had already been murmuring uneasily among themselves, but hearing the young man say this, someone immediately spoke up: “If we can come and help, why would we worry about something like that!”

The young man smiled faintly. “Of course, the porridge you gentlemen serve outside the city these next few days will have to come from the grain you’ve brought with you this trip.”

Someone in the crowd laughed loudly. “Then I’ll just stay a few more days and give away everything I brought!”

Puyang Yi said, “In that case, my pledge of three hundred piculs still stands. Sixty percent of the proceeds from these sales — once I return to Jiangning, I’ll convert that back into either grain or winter clothing. The grain will be sold back here, and the winter clothing will be donated outright. Looking at this weather, they’ll need that badly too.”

His words stirred discussion among the group, and the mood on deck grew somewhat livelier. The young man said no more and quietly withdrew to one side. Puyang Yi watched him out of the corner of his eye as he moved through the crowd, watching him take out a book at the ship’s rail and read a few lines whenever he had a spare moment. For Puyang Yi, this grain-shipping venture was purely a business matter, and he felt no particular excitement about it — in fact, a small portion of the group felt the same way. How much money could be made on this trip to Huainan meant little to him. What genuinely caught his attention, throughout the whole journey, was this young man.

This relief effort, led by the government and arranged through the offices of the Princess Chengguo’s household, had a hidden force operating and orchestrating things behind the scenes all along. As the foremost wealthy merchant house of Jiangning, the Puyang family was able to discern that all of this traced back to the Right Chancellor’s residence in the north — and deeper still, he could make out the shadow of that man known as “Ten Steps, One Calculation,” Ning Liheng.

Gathering everyone together, arranging the itinerary and lodgings, coordinating all manner of affairs along the way, chatting about this and that — although much of it had been arranged beforehand by Kang Xian’s people, the one who had been in contact with everyone throughout was this young man named Tang Wen. Over these several days of contact, he had blended seamlessly with everyone, and in conversation, whether intentionally or not, he was constantly working on their sympathies, stirring their sense of shared outrage.

Of course, before the group left Jiangning, Princess Chengguo and Kang Xian had received them personally, embellishing the notion of doing good deeds. And along this journey, the young man had also been skillfully steering everyone’s mood — on one hand, assuring them they could indeed turn a profit, and on the other, stirring their compassion, repeatedly telling them that this trip was an act of goodness. He told them how those unscrupulous merchants harmed people, how many would starve to death, how wretched the deaths of the starving were, and now and then told stories about the poor, and stories about the wealthy sowing good causes and reaping good rewards.

A large portion of those who had come along were simply the sons and nephews of small and mid-sized landowning families from the countryside. Their households might have grain, but they had little worldly experience — some had studied, but ultimately failed to pass into officialdom. Kang Xian’s audience with them, in which he explained the disaster and lavished them with praise, had already left them so flattered they’d lost all sense of direction. And then, all along the way, there had been this further guidance, this further embellishment. Had it not been for this whole chain of orchestrated maneuvers linking together seamlessly, they might never have declared they’d give away all their grain as relief. Puyang Yi even found himself wondering whether the relief site they’d just passed had been deliberately arranged by the other side.

His own pledge to give sixty percent of the grain as relief had merely been going along with the mood. Throughout the journey, he had watched this young man’s actions, watched him occasionally slip off to read whenever he had a spare moment, quietly reciting to himself — and it turned out to be nothing more than a basic primer of the Four Books, the kind used by children just beginning their studies at academy. He found himself genuinely curious: if that hand in the north really was orchestrating all of this from afar, then… just how had they cultivated a young man like this?

Even as Puyang Yi observed all this, up on the second deck of the ship, through a window cracked slightly open, a pair of eyes was also gazing down below. That was where the true person of noble standing aboard the ship resided — and a large part of the reason Puyang Yi was willing to go along and lend his help was, in fact, because of her presence.

Behind the window was the face of a young woman brimming with noble bearing. These past few days, she too had been quietly observing every shift and change.

“This person sent from the north is doing quite well.” Perhaps because of the severity of the disaster, a faint trace of melancholy touched Zhou Pei’s brow, but even so, she allowed herself a light smile.

That day, the grain price in Huainan stood at thirty-six taels per picul, and the wailing of the suffering stretched across the land.

So it was in the south — and to the north, correspondingly, a similar situation was unfolding. Once Winter’s Start had passed, the tension in the disaster zones had already drawn taut as a bowstring. Half a month earlier, Ning Yi, stationed in the capital, had already begun directing the first shipments of grain inward, but for the ordinary people, there was little change they could actually perceive since then. Beggars and refugees had begun gathering toward the cities; more and more people had nothing to eat, and everyone was searching for grain. And in circumstances like these, there were still those with charitable hearts.

In Fenzhou, Hedong Circuit, Xiaoyi County, outside the estate of the prominent Guo family, over a thousand people had gathered. Ten great cauldrons stood in a row, doling out steaming rice porridge to the starving who came. Those who received their bowls drank hurriedly, and before leaving, most of them offered their thanks.

Xiaoyi County had taken its name during the Zhenguan era, for Guo Xing’s filial devotion and righteousness. Whether the present-day Guo family truly traced its lineage back to Tang times was hard to say, but the Guo family’s charitable heart was, without question, praised far and wide across the surrounding countryside.

Inside and outside the courtyard walls were two different worlds.

The high courtyard walls blocked out the clamor. Li Pin sat in the main hall, drinking tea, waiting for the head of the Guo family, Guo Mingli, to come out. Before long, the fifty-some-year-old family head came to greet this newly appointed Vice Commissioner of Transport with proper courtesy. Li Pin expressed his gratitude for the man’s charitable deeds outside, and the other man offered a few modest, self-deprecating words in return.

“To be frank, Master Guo, the reason I’ve come this time is the matter of the grain prices outside.”

Li Pin’s tone was gentle, and the other man forced a smile in return. “Uh, I’m not sure… what that has to do with this humble old man.”

“Master Guo surely knows this already — the court cannot allow grain prices to keep climbing like this. We’re already shipping grain in. As for the current prices outside, we pushed them down a little a while back, as you’ve seen — down to thirty taels, and we mean to press further still. In the next round, we’re hoping to bring it down to twenty-five taels, and at that point, we’d like the Guo family’s grain to sell at the same price. Master Guo, twenty-five taels a picul is still ten times the usual price — plenty of profit in that, wouldn’t you say?”

The old man grew flustered. “M-my lord, this humble old man… doesn’t understand. This humble old man… every month, in serving relief porridge, we already give out several hundred piculs of grain. There are still months of winter left, and the grain prices… what does that have to do with this humble old man?”

Li Pin took a sip of tea and gave a small, cupped-hands bow with a smile. “The Guo family’s charity has long been renowned for its filial righteousness — I, Li Pin, have always admired it. Given how severe this disaster has grown, that the Guo family can still produce so much grain — once this is all settled, I will personally see to it that a plaque is presented, with drums and gongs, delivered right to your door. But the grain prices do concern the Guo family as well. I know the Guo family has grain — the Guo family leads the grain trade across the Fenzhou region. If you refuse to sell, everyone else is watching you and following suit. That’s not a good thing.”

“My lord, you wrong me! What does it matter to this humble old man whether others sell or not? My lord, you… this humble old man has already given out so much grain, my lord… there’s simply no reasoning to this.”

“Reasoning depends on how you look at it. You freely give away porridge, yet absolutely refuse to sell grain. There are laws in this dynasty against hoarding goods and artificially inflating prices — I could prosecute you under them. But I see the Guo family has a charitable heart, and I’ve always respected people of goodwill, which is why I’ve come in person to speak with you.”

Li Pin’s gaze remained warm. The old man hesitated for a long while, then finally gritted his teeth. “My lord, this… this doesn’t hold up. What hoarding, what artificially inflating prices — my lord, this humble old man hasn’t taken any grain outside to sell at high prices, so that can’t count as artificial inflation. And the grain… this humble old man’s household is large, with many mouths depending on it. Keeping grain in storage is meant for years of famine, and besides, this grain belongs in part to various shareholders and clan members in the family. Without their consent, how could this humble old man dare sell it off on his own? Please understand, my lord… in past years of famine, the government has never forced anyone to sell their grain. My lord, this humble old man is willing to donate grain, willing to donate…”

Prohibitions against hoarding and price manipulation had, in truth, existed under every dynasty throughout history. The trouble in this world was never really about whether such laws existed, but whether they could ever leave the capital, whether they could actually be enforced. Take disaster relief, for example — most people understood that if the law were applied strictly, if every corrupt official were rooted out and executed, or even if just a portion were made an example of to intimidate the rest, it would work. The problem was that no one dared do something that would provoke such widespread outrage.

The Wu Dynasty encouraged commerce, and the markets were correspondingly freer — prices fluctuated largely at the whim of the market itself. In times like these, the government often had little real recourse against hoarding. Of course, the fundamental problem wasn’t truly a lack of means, but rather that when the government itself became one link in the chain of interests, relying on strict investigation and harsh crackdowns to curb such things was, essentially, hopeless. This was exactly why people like Qin Siyuan understood that this famine could not be broken through brute-force tactics by ruthless officials.

But… though curbing the situation as a whole was impossible, moving against one or two individuals within it — that, Li Pin still had the authority to do.

“I don’t want your donated grain. I haven’t come to your door begging for food, and hurting your interests wouldn’t do either of us any good.” Li Pin picked up his teacup. “What I want is a win for both sides. A higher price is fine by me — what matters is that there’s grain to be sold. Twenty-five taels a picul, ten times the normal price — you profit handsomely, and I’m satisfied too. After all, the duty of an official is to enrich the people…”

“My lord, this lowly one is willing to donate five hundred piculs…”

“Stop dancing around with me! I don’t want your grain!” Li Pin’s tone sharpened, then eased again. “I’ve only just taken up my post here and am not yet familiar with local affairs, but investigating one or two people — that, I am still capable of. All of you have been manipulating the grain prices upward, hoarding all along. I’m not saying you can’t profit — but don’t be so excessive about it! I know full well your backing comes from the Zuo family. But even they won’t be able to protect you if I decide to prosecute!”

The old man’s face went pale, and then he suddenly dropped to his knees. “My lord! My lord, since you already know this, why are you pressing this humble old man so hard! This humble old man… this humble old man has spent his whole life doing good deeds! But grain — that is a matter of business. This household has shareholders, clan members involved — this humble old man cannot act recklessly. And my lord, you already know about the Zuo family, and the others here in Hedong Circuit — if this humble old man truly released the grain, I would draw the wrath of everyone, and the Guo family would be finished, my lord…”

Li Pin set down his teacup and drew a breath before rising to his feet. “Indeed, you’re all doing good deeds, I know that. Outside the Zuo family’s gates, there are more than twice as many people waiting for porridge as at yours. A friend of mine once put it very well — all of you consider yourselves great philanthropists, and you never want anyone to actually die, because if people started dying, they’d come charging into your homes, kill your people, seize your belongings! You don’t want deaths — you simply want to turn the whole world into what’s out there right now, and then you’re happy to hand out porridge and rice, keeping them alive just barely, hanging on by a single thread! What great! Men of virtue! You truly are!”

There was fury woven into his words, though also a certain helplessness. “My authority, unfortunately, cannot touch the Zuo family — but dealing with you is more than within my means. You have a few days left, Master Guo. Think it over. I know you fear the Zuo family, but you’re about to learn to fear me. Because in a few more days, if you still haven’t sold your grain, I will confiscate your entire estate. Master Guo, I bid you farewell.”

“My lord, don’t do this! My lord, we can discuss this! My lord—”

The old man cried out, but Li Pin had already risen and was striding toward the door. Once outside, as the carriage gradually pulled away, he lifted the curtain and looked back at the scene of gathered disaster victims behind him, then let the curtain fall and spoke quietly.

“Keep a close watch here. Don’t let anything go wrong…”

…

After Li Pin departed, Guo Mingli also swiftly left his home, heading for the residence of the Zuo family in Jinzhou. The carriage raced onward, and by the following day, the old man — still remarkably hale for his age — arrived at the Zuo family estate. But the man he sought was not Zuo Duanyou, the great scholar who headed the Zuo family. Zuo Duanyou might have understood something of grain hoarding, but his own personal stance on it was one of distaste — it was simply that, with a household so vast and prosperous, there was only so much he could oversee.

The one truly above Guo Mingli in this matter was the Zuo family’s current third young master, Zuo Jilan.

The Zuo family was a great clan, and beyond Zuo Duanyou’s overall control, there were numerous clan members, uncles, and cousins besides. Zuo Jilan was Zuo Duanyou’s own son, and barring any unforeseen turn of events, the future head of the Zuo family would emerge from between him and his second brother, Zuo Jiyun. Over these past years, Zuo Jilan had taken charge of a great many of the family’s business dealings, earning money for numerous clan members, and now, with this famine beginning to take hold, it was precisely the moment he had been preparing to make his major move.

After listening to Guo Mingli recount the whole affair, the thirty-one-year-old Zuo Jilan fixed the old man before him with a cold, hard stare for a good while. “Uncle Guo, you know this matters a great deal to me this time.”

“Yes.”

“He can have you killed, and so can I — and besides, he’s just an official passing through, here today and gone tomorrow. Once this stretch of time passes, he won’t be able to touch you anymore. But my Zuo family has lived rooted in this land for generations. You understand that, don’t you?”

“But…” Guo Mingli’s face took on a look verging on tears. “He — he wasn’t joking, second young master, you must — you must think of something.”

“I know about this newly arrived Vice Commissioner of Transport — he’s one of Qin Siyuan’s people in the capital…” Zuo Jilan thought for a moment. “I’ll handle him. But you — you are not to give in, understood?”

“…Yes.”

“No matter what, it won’t be easy for him to accomplish anything through official channels. Stay here tonight — I’ll think of a way for you, and then you can go back… For now, go rest. Don’t worry, Uncle Guo, don’t worry, just set your mind at ease…”

After sending Guo Mingli off to rest, Zuo Jilan summoned two of his aides. One was a clan elder of relatively low standing, usually just called Zuo Si, and the other was a scholar in his forties named Wang Zhizhen, the most formidable strategist at Zuo Jilan’s side. After briefly explaining the matter, Zuo Jilan slammed his palm down on the table.

“If old Guo dares undermine me at a time like this, I’ll have him killed!” he said through gritted teeth, then continued, “As for what this Li Pin said — what are your thoughts?”

Zuo Si glanced at Wang Zhizhen, who seemed lost in thought, and so spoke up first himself. “I think… whether we can move against him or not…”

Zuo Jilan shook his head. “He’s only just arrived, and he’s Qin Siyuan’s man — there’s no touching him anytime soon! I’m not worried about Guo Mingli either — give him some backbone and he still likely wouldn’t dare release his grain, and even if he did, the impact would be limited. But this Li Pin says the court has already made moves, that grain prices suddenly dropped to thirty taels — is that really their doing?”

“Grain prices these days already fluctuate wildly — it’s mostly just people shouting numbers about; it’s not as if it becomes thirty taels just because he says so. But a while back…” Wang Zhizhen spoke up, frowning as he thought it over. “Right around Winter’s Start, prices were climbing — nearly reached forty taels — and then suddenly they dropped. During that stretch, a large quantity of grain suddenly entered the market. We assumed at first it was some clueless merchants, so we simply absorbed it as we usually would — but it just kept coming. We took in nearly five thousand piculs, at a price of thirty-seven taels four qian, and then the price dropped.”

“Thirty-seven taels four qian.” Zuo Jilan blinked. “Taking in five thousand piculs — that’s over a hundred thousand taels of silver right there. If the price really is thirty now, that means I just lost more than thirty thousand taels in one stroke?”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Wang Zhizhen said. “Winter is here, and prices are bound to keep rising from here on. Even at thirty taels a picul, there isn’t much grain left out there — we just need to wait it out.”

Zuo Jilan considered this. “If anyone wants to use land as collateral, thirty taels is thirty taels — that’s fine too.”

“Naturally… As for this matter, the Qi family should know about it too, second young master. Should we go speak with them?”

“Hm… very well.”

And so, the following day, several of them met with the Qi family’s young master, Qi Fanghou. At Qi Fanghou’s side was an aide named Xu Mai, similar in role to Wang Zhizhen — a man who could serve as an aide to such a family was, more often than not, a scholar well-versed in all manner of affairs. The two sides compared notes and soon found common ground.

“A while back, having heard the court was organizing people to come sell grain, those below wanted to test the waters — the first batch we absorbed was four thousand piculs, the second two thousand, six thousand in total,” Qi Fanghou said. “I don’t care much about the money, but simply absorbing it endlessly like this doesn’t accomplish much either, so I held off and watched. Then the government put word out that grain prices had dropped. They’re selling at thirty taels now — I doubt it’s much, but I don’t know how much more is coming.”

Xu Mai, a man of some literary renown throughout Hedong, always carrying himself with the air of a scholar-strategist, gave his fan a light wave. “It seems they have someone capable behind all this, someone who truly understands this business.”

“What would some official understand about this?” Zuo Jilan sneered. “Aren’t they just going to find some group of people to make an example of and kill, and then find another group to kill again? This time, though, there hasn’t been much of that sort of thing…”

“A few have been killed, but truly, there hasn’t been much movement on that front this time. All the real movement has been in the grain prices. Which tells you — there’s someone on that side who understands this.”

Xu Mai tapped his fan lightly, and Qi Fanghou laughed. “Well then, does Master Xu have a countermeasure?”

“Anyone who can earn recognition in the capital is unlikely to be simple — we haven’t yet identified who it is, so we mustn’t be careless.” Xu Mai said. “That said, in my humble view, when officials speak of commerce, more often than not it’s mere wishful thinking on their part — enough to fool the great officials of the capital, perhaps, but no more. Regardless of who’s truly behind this, here in Hedong, with the combined wealth of the Zuo and Qi families, along with my own modest insight and Brother Wang’s tactical planning, I believe that whoever it is will find no advantage here. Wouldn’t you agree, Brother Wang?”

Wang Zhizhen smiled. “We simply hadn’t taken it seriously before. Now that we’re prepared — whoever’s behind this… let’s teach them a lesson in how the world works.”

For a moment, the group all shared a laugh.

From then on, grain prices across the whole of Hedong Circuit began pushing back. At the same time, regarding the matter of Guo Mingli, the two sides quickly worked out a difficult scheme between them. Not long after, Guo Mingli returned home, preparing to hand Li Pin a dangerous blow.

…

In the capital, winter had settled in. Ning Yi was hard at work in the Chancellor’s residence, where each day, through the intelligence network of the Secret Investigation Bureau, vast quantities of information and data were gathered and organized, and judgments and responses to the various fluctuations in grain prices were relayed out as swiftly as possible. The intelligence network at this stage was riddled with delays and inaccuracies, and many matters could only be handled through prediction — Ning Yi, too, was constantly adjusting his own pace. Even as he moved through it all with practiced ease, at times even humming a tune while he worked, Wenren Buer, who was currently assisting him, found the whole thing rather agonizing — often left dizzy by the sheer volume of data and judgment calls, utterly unable to grasp the basis on which he made his decisions.

But before long, he too gradually began to glimpse the shape and ripple of Ning Yi’s contest against half the grain-hoarding clans of the nation.

In the early part of the tenth month, things remained relatively calm for them, as the clashes were unfolding entirely outside the capital. And in this opening phase, because of Ning Yi’s interference in both south and north, the counterstrikes launched by both sides upon realizing what was happening were, in equal measure, fierce…