MLMD -Chapter 39 A Midnight Plot

Unlike the panicked Wang Chenglin, his father Wang Shoucheng was far more composed. Staring at the refined salt on the table, confusion flickered in his eyes. “This is top-grade refined salt. Where on earth did Yue Yang get it from—and how can he sell it so cheaply? Isn’t he obviously losing money?”

Wang Chenglin replied irritably, “Exactly! I can’t figure it out either. What kind of madness has seized Yue Yang? Refined salt like this costs no less than eight hundred wen per jin to produce. Has he lost his mind? Or did all this salt just blow in on the wind?”

The father and son racked their brains in the study for a long time but still couldn’t understand how Yue Yang dared to sell salt so cheaply. Meanwhile, Yue Yang himself stood at the entrance of a salt shop in Yingzhou City, beaming as he watched the surging crowds outside. These salts had all been purchased two days earlier from a modern salt company—iodized salt, to be precise. In an industrially advanced modern society, salt was dirt cheap. Since he bought at wholesale prices, the cost per jin was barely one yuan. Even buying a full hundred tons had cost him only two hundred thousand yuan.

There was, however, a small problem when transporting it through the portal. Yue Yang soon realized that trying to haul a hundred tons through by himself would exhaust him to death. But humans are nothing if not adaptable. He had a flash of inspiration: he repackaged the salt into one-ton bulk bags and bought a small forklift. Driving the forklift, he transported the salt through the portal with ease.

Yue Yang was delighted, but Yue Laifu, standing beside him, looked at the endless lines of customers and said with heartache, “Young Master, this is all top-grade refined salt, yet you’re selling it for only three hundred wen per jin. That’s far too cheap! We could easily sell it for seven or eight hundred wen!”

Yue Yang waved his hand dismissively. “Hey… at three hundred wen we’re already making a huge profit. If we sell it any higher, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Besides, Yingzhou City is only so big—no matter how expensive we sell it, how much can we really make? Uncle Laifu, you need to think further ahead. In the future, we’ll sell this salt to Datong Prefecture, Taiyuan Prefecture, even Beijing. That’s where the real money is.”

Indeed, Yue Yang’s ambitions now extended far beyond Yingzhou City and Shanxi alone. He was already planning to expand the salt business into surrounding provinces like Hebei and Henan—that was where the real profits lay.

To be honest, Yue Yang was deeply dissatisfied with the Ming dynasty’s salt and iron monopoly policies. Take Shanxi, for example: one jin of coarse salt sold for three hundred wen. If one hundred wen was roughly equivalent to twenty yuan, that meant one jin of salt sold for sixty yuan—an unimaginable price in modern times.

But was salt really that expensive? From what Yue Yang had learned during this period, salt in the Ming dynasty was actually very cheap at the production end. The government purchased coarse salt from “salt households” (peasants specialized in salt production) at five wen per jin—barely one yuan in modern currency. So how did the market price balloon to three hundred wen, nearly sixty times higher?

The problem lay in distribution. Take the Wang family as an example. If they wanted to sell salt, they first had to apply to the Salt Transport Office for salt vouchers—the licenses to deal in salt. After obtaining salt with these vouchers, they had to submit to inspections at the verification office. Then they were required to sell salt only at designated locations. After selling it, they had to return the vouchers to the local authorities. The entire process was not only cumbersome but also expensive.

Ming officials were notoriously underpaid and relied on “supplements” from other sources. When the Wang family came knocking, the clerks would naturally drag their feet, subtly reminding them—until silver was slipped into their pockets. Although the production cost of salt was low, the costs added during transportation and sales were astonishing. After bribing officials with so much silver, how could salt merchants not raise prices dozens of times over?

Some might ask: since the Ming dynasty enforced a salt monopoly, how could Yue Yang openly sell salt in the city? Wasn’t he afraid the Yingzhou Salt Transport Office would come after him? Yue Yang had already thought this through. Getting salt vouchers could be difficult—or easy. Although each prefecture had a fixed quota, long monopolized by families like the Wangs and other small salt merchants, there was an old saying: money makes the devil push the millstone. After spending a fair amount of silver, Yue Yang obtained the vouchers.

Once he had them, backed by modern society, Yue Yang’s first move was to squeeze the Wang family out of the market. He thought it through—and he did it. After just three days of operation, his salt shops in Yingzhou City had nearly driven the Wang family’s shops out of business. Left with no choice, Wang Shoucheng went to Prefect Zheng Fakui, hoping he would intervene. But Zheng brushed him off, saying that salt monopoly affairs were not under the prefectural office’s jurisdiction, and kicked the problem over to the Salt Transport Office.

Helpless, Wang Shoucheng went to see the Salt Transport Commissioner. But that official had already accepted Yue Yang’s benefits and merely spoke in evasive bureaucratic terms, insisting that Yue Yang had lawfully purchased the salt vouchers from others and had all his paperwork in order—there was nothing he could do to interfere with legitimate business. At that moment, Wang Shoucheng finally understood that he had underestimated Yue Yang. The young man once derided as a bookish, sour scholar had methods that were truly vicious.

By dusk, Wang Shoucheng dragged his exhausted body back to his residence. As soon as he entered, Wang Chenglin hurried over to help him remove his outer robe.

“Father, what did Lord Qiu say? Did he agree to help us?”

Wang Shoucheng did not answer, only saying darkly, “We’ll talk in the study.” With that, he walked ahead.

Once inside, Wang Shoucheng sat down, leaned back in his chair, and said nothing, merely closing his eyes. Wang Chenglin dared not speak, standing silently behind him.

After a long while, as the light in the study gradually dimmed and swallowed Wang Shoucheng in shadow, he finally sighed. “It seems I truly underestimated that Yue boy. I once thought his training of a few hundred elite troops was mere luck. Even with soldiers, he’d be nothing more than a brute. And even if he somehow got hold of refined salt, selling it cheaply would only mean losses—such a business couldn’t last. But now it seems he’s serious. He must have a stable supply source backing him. I just can’t figure out where all that salt comes from.”

Wang Chenglin’s face twisted with anger. “Father, Yue Yang is trying to cut off our livelihood! If that’s the case, we don’t need to be polite anymore. Tonight I’ll take men and burn down his three shops. I refuse to believe he has three heads and six arms!”

“You’re a fool!”

Before Wang Chenglin finished, Wang Shoucheng snapped his eyes open and shouted, “All you know is fighting and killing! Can’t you use your brain? Those three shops are so important—do you think the Yue family hasn’t stationed guards there? From today on, without my order, you are not to make any move against the Yue family. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” Wang Chenglin answered respectfully, though a trace of defiance flashed in his eyes as they darted about, plotting who knew what.

After a while, Wang Shoucheng said weakly, “Enough. Tonight I’ll write a letter to your elder brother, asking him to speak with Prefect Zheng. Zheng should give your brother some face. That way, no matter how unwilling Yue Yang is, he won’t dare push things too far.”

Wang Chenglin replied softly, “Understood. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

“Mm. Go.”

Wang Shoucheng waved his hand, leaned back, and closed his eyes again. Only then did Wang Chenglin quietly leave.

Outside the study, Wang Chenglin still couldn’t understand it. Yue Yang had once been nothing more than a pedantic bookworm—a useless wretch he could toy with at will just four or five months ago. With a few household guards, he could humiliate him as he pleased. Yet in such a short time, that wretch had become the most sought-after figure in Yingzhou City—training a militia, defeating bandits, saving the city. The contrast was so great it was hard to believe. And now, Yue Yang even wanted to destroy the Wang family’s foundation. How could the always-arrogant Wang Chenglin endure this?

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Soon, he summoned a burly, fierce-looking man. “Master Huang, you’ve been with the Wang family for four or five years now. You know how we’ve treated you. Now that our family is in crisis, are you willing to do your part?”

The man clasped his fists and said loudly, “Second Young Master, I, Huang Tiangui, have been supported by the Wang family all these years and have long wished to repay the kindness. Just say the word—whatever you ask, I won’t hesitate!”

“Good!”

Wang Chenglin was overjoyed. Lowering his voice, he said, “Here’s what we’ll do. Late tonight, you’ll lead several dozen brothers to those three newly opened salt shops, and then… do this and this…”