Taicang was both the name of a granary and the name of a place.
Since the Wu king in the Spring and Autumn period built a granary here, Lord Chunshen of Chu, Liu Bi, Prince of Wu of the Han, Sun Quan of Eastern Wu, Qian Liu of Wuyue, and others had all established granaries and stockpiled grain here, generation after generation.
It was not without reason that they all, without consulting one another, had set their sights on this place.
Taicang lay on the sea to the east, where the harbor was broad and the water deep near the shore, able to anchor great ships and ocean-going vessels. Within its territory, waterways such as the Lou River and Salt and Iron Creek crisscrossed, forming a navigable network that made it easy to connect with the Jiangnan hinterland.
After sea transport rose to prominence, Taicang earned the laudatory name “Six-Nation Wharf,” though in reality merchants from far more than six nations came to trade.
In the Yuan dynasty, when sea transport of tribute grain was at its height, more than sixteen hundred ships set sail from Taicang in a single day, accounting for one third of the nation's maritime capacity; it truly was a hub of sea transport.
Precisely for this reason, in the first year of Yanyou (1314) under Emperor Renzong (Ayurbarwada), the administrative seat of Kunshan Zhou was moved here, and Taicang became even more prosperous.
Tai means “great.”
At that time, the largest granary in the territory of Taicang belonged to the Sea Transport Granary in Zhangjing, south of the city, capable of storing more than a million dan of grain; it was still being expanded intermittently, and its future scale would be even more considerable.
The Sea Transport Granary stood on the north bank of the Lou River and east of Salt and Iron Creek. On this day in the third year of Zhizheng (1343), it suddenly became extremely busy: thousands upon thousands of boat households and bondsmen impressed from the Huai region moved in and out of the granary like ants, loading sack after sack of grain into ship holds in preparation for departure. Shao Shuyi was one of them.
After working in a daze all morning, he was close to collapsing, but he dared not slack, because he needed money and needed to fill his stomach.
As a modern person born in the twenty-first century, he had inexplicably arrived in this time and place, becoming a member of a boat household that had plied the waters for generations; his social status and financial circumstances were dire. If he did not come out to hire himself and earn some money, he truly would not be able to survive.
“Careful.” Just as his steps became unsteady and he nearly fell to the ground, a pair of large hands reached out from beside him and steadied his body.
“Got it,” Shao Shuyi replied, and continued forward.
He recognized the man who had steadied him as Zheng Song, a clansman of Zheng Guozhen, the Records Section Archivist of the Sea Route Grand Transport Myriad Household Office, who served as a kind of steward. He was cautious and taciturn, never showing joy or anger on his face, impossible to read.
Of course, as an ordinary boat household man, he was not qualified to interact with Zheng Song; it was only natural that he did not know him.
Zheng Song looked him up and down, then quickly withdrew his gaze and left.
When the sun reached its zenith, a crisp gong finally sounded in the distance.
As if granted amnesty, Shao Shuyi collapsed onto the riverbank, panting heavily.
His exhaustion left him no mind for anything else; the whole world seemed to have turned gray, and he could not even be bothered to make out a quarrel so close at hand—
“When you left, I warned you again and again, yet you insisted on not listening. What reason is there for that?”
“Elder brother, this is all they gave.”
“The sum is right—four portions of freight money, no mistake. But they are all worn notes—how can they be spent?” The speaker grew angrier, and then came the crisp sound of a slap, along with curses mixed with slang and dialect.
The one who had been struck wept bitterly, perhaps from guilt, and tried to throw himself into the river, but the onlookers grabbed him with many hands and held him back.
The commotion was so great that even Shao Shuyi snapped out of his stupor and turned to look.
After being stopped, the man who had tried to jump into the river no longer wanted to die; he merely knelt weeping on the ship's deck.
A group of people surrounded him, wanting to speak but hesitating. Among them, the most striking was a middle-aged man with disheveled hair.
He was not tall, but extremely stocky and thick, with broad shoulders and a thick back, just like a solid wall of flesh. His head was very large, and his neck was short and thick, almost merging with his shoulders.
What drew the eye most was his hair, like seaweed tossed by the sea wind: greasy, matted, growing wild, as if its owner never bothered with it and even took pride in that.
The skin left exposed had been eroded by sea winds and the blazing sun into a dark purplish-brown, so rough it seemed it could scrape silk—eh, he was actually wearing silk clothes, so he was probably no ordinary person.
“Stop looking. That is Cai Luantou, a notorious brute on the seas. Let’s go.” A low shout sounded by his ear, and a strong force pulled Shao Shuyi up, sending him stumbling into the distance.
As he moved away, an angry curse faintly drifted from the river: “Only I, Cai Luantou, have ever swallowed others’ goods and wealth; no one has dared short my money. Damned officials! Thieving officials! Don’t force me to rebel!”
As he spoke, there was a crash, and Cai Luantou smashed a porcelain bottle onto the deck, beside himself with rage.
Shao Shuyi gently freed his arm and, after walking several dozen steps, stopped and looked at the man who had pulled him along. “Baijianu,” he said, “why is Cai Luantou so angry?”
“Baijianu” was a childhood name. Like Shao Shuyi, he belonged to a boat household, was of similar age, and was also his neighbor; their relationship was naturally close.
In fact, he had a formal name: Kong Tie. Because his family was in difficulty after his birth and had relied on help from the neighbors, he had been given the childhood name “Baijianu.”
Hearing the question, he first glanced back at the crowd making a fuss on the Lou River, then said, “I only heard it from others, so it may not be accurate. The court conscripted boat households from Wenzhou and Taizhou to come to Liujiagang to transport grain. Because they came with empty ships, it was considered comparatively easy, so the freight money was set low to begin with. After they arrived, what was handed out was nothing but worn notes. It is only natural that Cai Luantou is furious.”
Shao Shuyi understood at once.
“Worn notes” were Yuan baochao that had been heavily worn and often lost much of their value in actual use—sometimes they could not be spent at all.
As for the so-called conscription of Wenzhou and Taizhou boat households to transport grain to Liujiagang, Shao Shuyi found that unsurprising.
Although the Sea Route Grand Transport Myriad Household Office commanded the seven local guards battalions—Songjiang-Jiading, Kunshan-Chongming, Changshu-Jiangyin, Hangzhou-Jiaxing, Wen-Tai, Qing-Shao, and Xiangsha-Nuomi—as well as one grain-transport guards battalion (formerly the Garrison Pacification Office), with over ten thousand boat households and several thousand vessels of all sizes, those in the know understood that such things existed only on paper; it was truly hard to say how many people and ships actually existed.
Therefore, beginning more than ten years ago, the task of transporting tribute grain each year in the two spring and summer transports—sometimes starting in autumn, then called the “autumn transport”—had been shared by the Myriad Household Office and the “coastal strongmen” along the coast. The court tacitly accepted this and even paid freight money directly to civilian boatmen outside the official register.
Cai Luantou was one of the Wenzhou and Taizhou “coastal strongmen”; that he could bring dozens of ships to answer the summons showed his influence.
“Come on, let’s eat.” After saying this, Kong Tie closed his mouth and walked straight ahead.
Shao Shuyi no longer cared to inquire further about Cai Luantou’s affair and quickly caught up.
One ahead, one behind, they soon arrived at a temporary camp on the east bank of Salt and Iron Creek.
They had been hired by the Zheng family, so their meals were naturally provided by the employer. Sure enough, the Zheng family’s servants drove several donkey carts over from afar, unloading buckets of steamed rice from the carts and distributing them one by one.
Because they had to do heavy labor, it was rare for them to get three meals in a day, and solid rice at that; eating it with pickled vegetables, they could not have been happier.
As he ate, Shao Shuyi carefully observed the scene.
To deal with the spring transport, Zheng Guozhen, the archivist of the Myriad Household Office, had sent out all the servants and bondsmen of his household, putting them in charge of moving grain from the Sea Transport Granary to the ships.
Not only that: the Zheng family additionally provided grain and paper money to hire idle boat household men from home to assist their own bondsmen in transporting grain.
Rumor had it that the Zheng family might send some of its people and ships to share part of the tribute-grain transport burden. After all, Zheng Guozhen’s father, Zheng Yonghe, was the Deputy Myriad Household Commander of the Myriad Household Office, and could not shirk his duty. If the transport quota was not completed, the court would punish every official in the Myriad Household Office, great or small; if it was completed, the court would not care how they messed about below.
This was the state of affairs in the Great Yuan: government administration was contracted out!
At that moment, Zheng Guozhen was also personally present at the site, talking quietly with Zheng Song in the distance.
Shao Shuyi had seen Zheng Guozhen from afar a few times.
The man had studied since childhood and held a civil post in the Myriad Household Office, but judging by his bearing and movements, he did not seem like an ordinary scholar; instead, he had a certain air of the martial world.
He usually wore casual garments of dark-patterned brocade, often practiced spear and staff with others, rode horses and shot arrows; his voice was like a great bell, his gaze sharp, giving others the sense that he was not easy to deal with.
Of course, sometimes he would don a tall cap and broad belt and socialize with the local gentry; after all, his was a family of scholars.
Most importantly, rumors in the transport office said that Zheng Guozhen had twice gone to sea as an attendant of a transport supervision official, traveling between Liujiagang and Zhigu. By regulation, each grain transport required the Myriad Household Office to send an officer aboard ship, called a transport supervision official. Sometimes the Myriad Household Commander went in person; sometimes a Deputy Myriad Household Commander or Chiliarch; at the very least, a Deputy Chiliarch of the subordinate fifth rank.
Having gone to sea—and more than once—was no simple matter…
After gobbling down a few mouthfuls, Shao Shuyi rested for a moment. Soon he saw Zheng Song wave his hand, sending several estate guards to urge everyone back to work.
Zheng Guozhen remained standing where he was, now looking up at the sky, now sighing deeply, as if troubled by some difficult matter.
Shao Shuyi sighed inwardly, got to his feet with difficulty, and headed toward the Sea Transport Granary.
This money was not easy to earn!