xymnovel Chapter 114 Donating Grain
Chapter 114 Donating Grain
On the ninth day of the seventh lunar month, two carriages, one in front and one behind, drove into the Zheng family's old residence.
When Zheng Fan got out of the car, he glanced curiously at the car following behind him, but the rain was too heavy, so he quickly looked away and went into the main hall.
The servant brought out the tea.
Zheng Guozhen's wife, Gu, came out and said a few words, then told San She that she would not be back until evening.
Zheng Fan could only wait patiently, while silently pondering what to say next.
As dusk settled, Zheng Guozhen finally returned.
Upon seeing Zheng Fan, he smiled wryly and said, "I was quite surprised to hear of your return while I was at the yamen. Unfortunately, Lord Xia was busy with business, and it wasn't convenient for me, as the head official, to leave."
Zheng Fan stood up and bowed.
"Xia Gong" refers to Xia Di, the deputy commander of the ten thousand households, who is in charge of the Taicang and Liujiagang branches this year.
The old minister Zheng Yonghe returned to Suzhou to assist the Darughachi and the commander of ten thousand households in handling official business.
Xia Di will be transferred to another post next year, and Deputy Commander Fei Xiong will come to Taicang to oversee all affairs, large and small. This year, he is stationed at the Caofu branch office in Hai'erqiao, Jiading Prefecture, for a term of one year.
"Come, tell me what's going on," Zheng Guozhen said, having someone serve him another cup of tea.
Zheng Fan then recounted in detail what he had seen and heard in Dadu.
After listening, Zheng Guozhen pondered for a long time.
"Third dormitory." Zheng Fan waited for a long time, and when there was no movement, he called out softly.
Zheng Guozhen waved his hand and said, "Actually, it's nothing. I was just thinking that my father is getting old, yet he still has to accompany the ships to supervise the transport of grain. As his son, I really feel bad about it."
Zheng Fan sighed softly.
That's how the Grain Transport Office was. Many years ago, because it was relatively easy to get promoted as an official in the Grain Transport Office—following the system of official appointments in the Six Ministries—and because there were no imperial examinations, many scholars entered the office as officials to secure a future. But who would have thought that one day, even junior officials would be required to go to sea? These people couldn't stand it and a large number of them were transferred to other places to become officials.
Now, even the Deputy Commander of Ten Thousand Households wants to go to sea, which leaves them with no other option. With the four of them taking turns, Zheng Yonghe can't escape either, unless he resigns by the end of the year. "Alright, let's get down to business," Zheng Guozhen said, composing himself. "According to you, is the canal still operational?"
“It will be difficult to pass through without repairs,” Zheng Fan said. “But to repair the canal, we must control the Yellow River and the Huai River. The cost will be enormous, and it’s hard to say how long it will take.” Zheng Guozhen thought for a moment. At the beginning of the dynasty, the canal was used to transport grain, up to five million shi a year. But it was short-lived and soon became unusable. Grain was transported by sea instead.
The peak of maritime transport was fourteen years ago, when 3.52 million shi (a unit of dry measure) of grain were transported to Zhigu in a single year, a full 30% less than that transported by the Grand Canal. However, it was cheaper, and the various expenses were far less than those of the Grand Canal. After all, there were fewer people extorting money and goods along the way, and there was no need to maintain the waterways or sluice gates, nor to worry about the dry season. At this point, the Grand Canal was still transporting grain intermittently, but on a pitifully small scale; the bulk of the transport was done by sea. Now, with the Yellow River breaching its banks, even this last bit of transport capacity has been interrupted, and the entire burden has fallen on maritime transport—even merchants who trade between the north and south now have to consider maritime transport, and "striving for the best ships" is unavoidable.
[Remember the fastest online novel website: 121999.com]
"Things are getting ugly on Zhongjie's end..." Zheng Guozhen didn't even drink the tea that had just been served. He got up and paced back and forth in the hall, revealing the complexity of his inner thoughts. In that instant, he considered many things.
First, given the new circumstances, is it possible for his father to assume the position of a commander of ten thousand households? After all, it's only a step away from the third rank to the full third rank. But then again, it seems unlikely, as their family's connections in the court have dwindled in recent years, with many either dying or retiring.
He could have gotten close to Prime Minister Tuotuo through his connection with Wu Zhifang, a native of Jinhua. But Wu had resigned, and he wasn't familiar with Arutu and had no connections there. What could he do?
Furthermore, his father's health was not good enough for strenuous activity; he needed to rest. He had originally planned to leave for Shanghai this year, but ultimately managed to stay in Suzhou. From his heart, he naturally hoped his father would continue as a deputy commander or even a commander, but from a son's perspective, it wasn't appropriate for him to do so. He turned to look at Zheng Fan, his expression showing considerable hesitation.
Zheng Fan seemed to understand something, and stood up, saying, "Third Dormitory, how about I make a trip to Qiao Sikong Alley?"
Zheng Guozhen's eyes darted around.
Zheng Fan sighed inwardly. This was indeed a matter that a son shouldn't try to persuade; there needed to be at least a fig leaf. So he immediately said, "Third Master, it's unlikely that Ye Shijian will become a deputy commander of ten thousand households in the next two years. Whether he hates it or resents it, it's fate. Blame the Yellow River if you must. For now, we should let the old minister hold on for another two years. To prevent anyone from causing trouble, we should donate several thousand shi of grain. That way, the court might not touch the old minister's position, after all, he did make a contribution to the reform of the grain transport system back then."
Zheng Guozhen grunted, put his hands behind his back, and turned to look at the torrential rain outside the hall.
"The north has been plagued by continuous rain for years; even the Yellow River breached its banks in the first month of the lunar calendar—it's unheard of," Zheng Guozhen's faint voice rang out. "Fine, let's donate some grain then. How much would be appropriate?"
"With your status, sir, you probably wouldn't be able to get a salary of less than 5,000 shi (a unit of grain)," Zheng Fan said.
Zheng Guozhen turned and sat back down in his chair, seemingly regaining his decisiveness. He said, "In the past, right after the New Year, relatives and friends from the Zheng, Fang, and Gu families would flock over, practically wearing down our doorstep. They also used our family's name to bully others and make a lot of ill-gotten gains. This time, my family will contribute half, and they can make up the rest. Let's handle this matter quickly."
Zheng Guozhen paused for a moment, then said, "Guoqing keeps complaining that he has nothing to do, and I'm getting annoyed with him. Let him handle this small matter. If he can't even handle this, he'll be too embarrassed to say anything in the future. Yifang, you go to Suzhou first, and after you come back, rest for a few days. Once the grain supplies are ready, then head north with the ship to make arrangements."
"Yes," Zheng Fan replied.
He really wanted to rest for ten days or half a month, but he was also worried that Zheng Guoqing would cause trouble.
This man is the old master's nephew. He was very unreliable in his youth and did many outrageous things, so he was never entrusted with any important tasks. But since they are close, last year he was collecting rent in a village in his hometown of Quzhou and did quite well. He seems to have turned over a new leaf.
Having gone to great lengths to come to Taicang this year, it was really inappropriate to ignore him, so I gradually gave him some tasks to do.
Zheng Fan was slightly worried when he thought of this, but he didn't say anything because he was really too busy to handle everything.
The two then chatted about general matters such as the state of the world, mostly in a broad and general way.
Zheng Fan focused on the issue of refugees in Dadu, mentioning that when the sons of the Imperial Censor, Bierqiebuhua, went out hunting, they intercepted more than a thousand refugees and took them back to serve as laborers.
The imperial court turned a blind eye to this, because before the grain shipments arrived in Dadu, they were unable to send the starving people back to their hometowns. They could accept the people they had to send back, but it would be even worse if the starving people were scattered all over the country. If they sent the starving people back to their hometowns, they would at least have to provide them with food for the journey.
Zheng Guozhen was somewhat surprised by this.
The situation in Jiangnan was indeed difficult, and many people could not survive, but at least there was no large-scale displacement of people.
The influx of refugees is a highly sensitive signal; if not handled carefully, it could easily escalate into a widespread disturbance, and even if suppressed, the unrest would linger for a long time. Zheng Fan also mentioned that when they landed, the navy's Hai Xian Ming He ships were inspecting a vessel attempting to enter Liujia Port, but they encountered resistance. One patrol boat was burned, another suffered heavy casualties, and yet another escaped, causing great turmoil in Liujia Port.
Fortunately, the ship that resisted was also afraid, so it turned around and fled, disappearing into the vast ocean.
According to the surviving naval officers and soldiers, the group spoke with a Taizhou accent and was extremely fierce. There were about thirty people on board, and some were injured or killed in the fighting. They probably feared that there were still more than forty naval ships in Liujiagang, so they fled for their lives.
Zheng Guozhen was even more surprised, or rather worried, than when he heard about this, than when there was a large-scale exodus of people from the north.
This time it really concerns my personal interests.
What a bunch of useless trolls! They suffered a defeat in a three-on-one situation, with one ship destroyed, one damaged, and one fleeing.
Luckily, they only sent one ship. If they had sent a dozen or twenty, wouldn't they have wiped out the navy?
Is there any safety left in Liujiagang?
On a deeper level, if the pirates discover that the imperial navy is lax in discipline, will they become even more arrogant?
Sometimes, once the tiger's skin is punctured, it takes a much greater effort to stabilize these desperate men whose desires are beginning to grow, because their greed is insatiable.
The banquet was quickly prepared. The Gu family arranged a large table of food and wine, and invited all the members of the Zheng clan from the old house to come and welcome Zheng Fan. The banquet lasted until 3:45 PM.
As Zheng Fan was leaving, he noticed that the carriage was still parked under the awning, indicating that the guests were planning to spend the night there, which puzzled him. Meanwhile, the guest was in a boudoir in Ganze Garden, where two young girls sat close together behind a small mother-of-pearl inlaid table. On the table were a dish of salted plums, a dish of mint cakes, and an opened letter.
A girl in a moon-white shirt was reading a letter to another person. Halfway through, she burst into laughter, collapsing onto the table, her shoulders shaking. Amu, in a light purple vest, poked her arm with the handle of his fan, saying, "Is it that funny? I'll never write one again." The girl in the moon-white shirt looked up, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. She wiped it with her handkerchief, cleared her throat, and, mimicking a man's tone, said, "Besides, I sometimes go to sea and know how treacherous the storms are. If the weather changes and the ship capsizes at sea, I can only become a ghost longing for home. Wouldn't that be a waste of a good match…" She laughed again as she read, shoving the letter into Amu's hand, saying, "You read it yourself, I'm not reading it anymore. Anyway, he's not a good person, just playing the victim."
Amu subconsciously took the letter, but his expression was somewhat dazed.
The girl in the white shirt seemed to realize something as well. She was stunned for a moment, and then said with some annoyance, "This man deserves to die!" Wasn't Amu's father, Zheng Guocai, the one who was serving as an attendant to the grain inspector and whose boat capsized in a sudden storm on a long beach?
After her father passed away, her mother also fell ill and soon followed him, leaving behind an orphan girl.
Amu slowly stood up, went to the bedside, lay down blankly, then pulled out the blanket and slowly covered his face.
"Damn it! Damn it!" The girl in the white shirt was furious.
She glanced subconsciously at the writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on another table, the small peaks of which rose and fell continuously.