Chapter 33: Prince Heng Sells Salt

Ten days after departing from Yancheng, the convoy transporting refined salt crossed the Pujin pontoon bridge and arrived at the capital. Zhao Wuzheng personally went outside the city gates to welcome them. Zhao Wuzheng is the son of Zhao Ren, the Prince of Ren and Minister of the Ministry of Rites. According to royal protocol, he should not have been granted a princely title while his father was still alive. However, Zhao Wuji, citing his military service and merit on the battlefield, conferred upon him the title of Prince of Heng, with his fief located in Hengshan County; thus, the capital refers to him as Prince Heng. Mindful that his uncle, Zhao Ren, was advanced in age, Zhao Wuji did not require Zhao Wuzheng to relocate to his fief.

The convoy slowly came to a halt at the city gate. The five men in the lead immediately knelt and bowed: "Greetings, Your Highness, Prince Heng. We have returned from Yancheng after fulfilling our orders to transport the refined salt. We are here to report to you."

"Good, good, good. Rise. Let me see how the refined salt produced by that boy, the Prince of Yan, turns out," Prince Heng, Zhao Wuzheng, said happily.

One of the yamen runners transporting the salt stepped forward and opened a sack, revealing the snow-white, fine salt inside. "Your Highness, please take a look."

Zhao Wuzheng gazed at the white salt in the sack; it shimmered with a crystalline luster, much like the snow of midwinter. He reached out with his only arm, pinched a small amount, and placed it on the tip of his tongue. He smacked his lips a few times and then burst into hearty laughter: "Hahaha, excellent salt, truly excellent salt! That lad Bin really has some tricks up his sleeve."

Seeing the Prince so pleased, everyone else joined in the laughter.

"Let's go, follow me into the city." With that, Zhao Wuzheng strode toward the city. The others followed with their wagons. The commoners along the way stepped aside to make room.

The convoy passed through the main street and entered the North Market, where three shops had already been prepared by the Chief Eunuch, Liu Zhi. Once all the refined salt was arranged, a gong sounded, and the red silk covering the shop plaques was pulled away, revealing the characters "Fine Salt Trading Firm." The doors opened, and they were officially in business. Per Zhao Wuji’s instructions, the salt was priced at five hundred wen per catty. However, the swarm of customers caught Zhao Wuzheng off guard. The capital was filled with high-ranking officials and wealthy merchants, all of whom wanted to taste good salt; to them, five hundred wen was nothing. Many bought ten or twenty catties at a time, largely because these households were populous and consumption was high. Zhao Wuzheng immediately sent someone to the palace to ask the Emperor if the price should be adjusted. By the time the messenger returned, half of the dozen wagons of salt had already been sold, and many more who had heard the news were rushing to send their servants to make purchases.

The dozen wagons of refined salt were sold out in half a day. Many who failed to buy any crowded the shop front, loudly asking when more would be available.

Sitting in the back hall, Zhao Wuzheng was anxious at the sight of money being left on the table. He turned to the five men from earlier and said, "You lot, make another trip to Yancheng. Tell the Prince of Yan to bring all the refined salt in Yancheng to me—the more, the better."

"Your Highness, we just returned; we haven't even had a meal yet," one of them said, somewhat reluctantly.

"Forget about eating! Don't you see how desperate the money outside is?" Zhao Wuzheng snapped. Nevertheless, he reached into his robe, pulled out twenty taels of silver, and tossed it to them. "Go buy some meat to eat on the road."

A yamen runner standing nearby suddenly spoke up: "Reporting to Your Highness, there is plenty of salt to be had, but you must provide the wagons. The Prince of Yan's residence does not have that many. These wagons were all cobbled together."

"Didn't the Prince of Yan trade a lot of war horses with the Xianbei? How could he have no wagons?"

"Your Highness, I speak of carts; there are plenty of horses, but no carts."

"Damn it! Take my token to the Ministry of War and find the Right Vice Minister, Yang Guozhong. Request one hundred wagons used for transporting grain, and tell him it’s to haul salt for the Emperor."

"Yes, Your Highness, I shall go at once."

"You men, take these yamen runners to the courier station to rest. Arrange a meal for them tonight, and return to Yancheng to fetch the salt for me first thing tomorrow."

"Yes, Your Highness, we take our leave."

***

The yamen runners and officials departed. That evening, after tallying the accounts, the shop manager, Tian Wenzhong, presented the figures to Zhao Wuzheng: "Reporting to Your Highness, these are the accounts for today's salt sales, totaling fifteen thousand taels."

"Such exorbitant profit—no wonder those three firms tried to obstruct us in every way. If we earn over ten thousand taels in a single day, who knows how much we’ll make in a year?" Zhao Wuzheng said, somewhat indignantly.

"Your Highness is correct, but the accounts are not calculated that way," Tian Wenzhong said slowly.

Prince Heng looked at Tian Wenzhong and asked curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Your Highness, a situation like today only happened because it was the first day; it cannot be like this every day. For households with many mouths to feed, buying a dozen catties of salt will last them two or three months, so it is impossible to maintain such high profits daily. However, having said that, the current supply cannot keep up. If we could ensure a steady supply, then through high volume and lower margins, let alone ten thousand a day, I fear even one hundred thousand would not be out of reach."

"Then in your opinion, what should be done?" Zhao Wuzheng asked.

"Your Highness, this matter lies with the Prince of Yan, not us. Only he knows the method of refining salt; others do not. But given the Prince of Yan's current strength, I fear it will be difficult to increase production in the short term."

"Then I shall go to the palace tomorrow to see the Emperor and see if there are any other ways," Zhao Wuzheng sighed.

The Great Xia had no curfew, so the capital remained lively at night, especially along the banks of the Ya Market, which were no less vibrant than the neon lights of a modern city. A young man dressed in common attire entered the Wangjiang Pavilion. The waiter saw a customer arriving and immediately went to greet him.

"How many, sir?"

The young man looked at the waiter and said somewhat nervously, "Young waiter, I have some business with your manager. Is he in?"

"Looking for our manager? He is in, right there by the counter. I’ll take you over." The waiter readily agreed.

"Thank you, brother," the young man said politely.

After walking a few steps to the counter, the waiter called out, "Manager, this gentleman says he has business with you."

Zhang Guide, who was busy with an abacus, looked up and felt the young man looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place him. Zhang Guide waved for the waiter to return to his duties, then asked the young man, "What business do you have, sir?"

The young man looked behind him, and noticing that no one was paying attention, he whispered to Zhang Guide, "I was sent by the Prince of Yan."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Guide immediately put down the unfinished calculations and stepped out from behind the counter. "Come, let’s talk in the back courtyard."

Zhang Guide brought the young man into the living room of the back courtyard. "Little brother, please sit for a moment. I will go and invite the Young Lady."

"Very well."

Before long, Zhang Guide and Xing'er entered from outside the hall. The young man immediately stood up and bowed: "Greetings, Miss Xing'er."

"No need for formalities. Sit and speak," Xing'er said, gesturing to the chair behind him.

Xing'er looked at the young man and asked, "You aren't from the residence, are you? I haven't seen you there."

"My name is Hao Laosi. I am a yamen runner from the prefectural office. This time, I was ordered by the Prince to deliver salt to the imperial court. Before leaving, the Prince asked me to bring a letter to you." As he spoke, the young man pulled a letter from his robe and respectfully handed it over.

Xing'er took the letter and asked casually, "Is the Prince doing well in Yancheng?"

"When I last saw the Prince, he was in good spirits, but I don't work in the Prince's residence, so I don't know much," Hao Laosi replied.

Xing'er didn't open the letter immediately but continued to ask, "How many of you came?"

"Fifty men in total. We are currently staying at the courier station near the North Market. Prince Heng ordered us to depart for our return tomorrow. The salt we brought today was sold out in an afternoon, and Prince Heng is anxious for us to go back and fetch more."

Xing'er turned to Zhang Guide and said, "Manager Zhang, go prepare twenty catties of spiced meat from the kitchen for this brother to take for his companions on the road. Also, go to the accounts office and take twenty-five taels of silver; bring it back for them to divide among themselves as a token of thanks for their hard work."

Seeing this, Hao Laosi quickly rose and bowed, "Thank you, Miss, but the Prince has already provided for us. I fear it would be improper to accept your money as well."

"The money is not for nothing; I have tasks I need you to do. After you cross the Pujin Bridge, do not return immediately. Five miles to the east, there is a place called Weijia Town. Wait there for a few days, and I will send someone to contact you."

"I understand. Is there anything else you wish for me to convey to the Prince?"

"Not for the moment. I will have a carriage take you back shortly; the capital is large, and it is easy to get lost at night."

"Then I shall follow your arrangements, Miss."

A short while later, a carriage departed from the back courtyard, heading toward the North Market.