YWTGU -Chapter 65 Quenching Thirst with Poison, While Tigers Lurk

That night, Li An did not sleep at all.

The buzzing in his head never stopped.

The Imperial Uncle demanding one million taels in silver—Tongji Money House simply couldn’t produce that amount.

But that wasn’t the most fatal problem.

The most fatal problem was this: once the Imperial Uncle made a scene, and the commoners already lining up to withdraw their money heard about it…

It would be over.

A bank run.

Those two words hung over Li An’s head like a guillotine, as he sat in his study gulping down cup after cup of cold tea.

Jin Daya crouched by the doorway, barely daring to breathe.

“My Lord…”

“Silence.”

“But My Lord, it’s almost dawn.”

“I know it’s almost dawn!”

Li An slammed the teacup onto the table.

Tea splashed over his hand.

He didn’t even bother wiping it off, instead pacing back and forth across the room.

His mind frantically sifted through every economic theory he had learned in his previous life.

Keynes? Useless.

Friedman? Even more useless.

Those were all theories for modern market economies!

This was a feudal dynasty that didn’t even have a central bank—what macroeconomic control could they possibly talk about?

But he couldn’t do nothing.

The system’s mission was to strengthen the nation. National Fortune could not drop any further.

If it kept falling, the reward for this cycle would vanish entirely.

“Jin Daya!”

“Yes! Yes, My Lord!”

Jin Daya sprang to his feet.

“Go fetch Zhao Dadan, Liu Xi, and Qian Xiaohai. Bring them here.”

“Now? It’s not even daylight yet!”

“Now! I think… in chaotic times, one must use heavy measures!”

Li An slammed the table again, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

“If they refuse to believe in Great Qi’s credit, then we’ll make them believe!”

Jin Daya’s legs trembled.

He knew that expression too well.

Every time the Lord showed that look, something big was about to happen.

And not just big.

Huge.

“Yes! I’ll go at once!”

He turned and ran.

Half an hour later.

Main hall of the Zhuangyuan Residence.

Li An sat in the main seat, face iron-gray.

Zhao Dadan yawned, eye crust still clinging to the corners.

Liu Xi rubbed his eyes, looking utterly confused.

Qian Xiaohai, however, was energetic—because he hadn’t returned from the gambling house all night.

Jin Daya stood behind Li An, bent nearly double like a shrimp.

“Everyone’s here?”

Li An scanned the room.

“Let’s talk business.”

“You’ve all heard about last night. The Imperial Uncle wants to withdraw one million taels. The money house cannot produce it.”

Zhao Dadan sobered instantly.

“One million taels? Can’t produce it? Won’t that explode the whole situation?”

“It already has.”

Li An’s voice was cold.

“So I have decided that starting today, we will issue a ‘Wartime Economic Control Order.’”

“War—what?”

Zhao Dadan blinked.

“Wartime Economic Control Order.”

Li An stood and walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back.

Morning light streamed in, illuminating his exhausted yet forcibly composed face.

“First. Any single withdrawal exceeding one hundred taels must be personally approved by me.”

“Second. Any merchant who refuses to accept Great Qi Tongbao Notes will be sealed and investigated.”

“Third. Anyone spreading rumors or disrupting market order—arrest them.”

“Fourth. Form inspection squads to patrol the streets starting today.”

He turned around.

“Understood?”

The room was silent for three seconds.

Liu Xi raised his hand first.

“My Lord, who commands the inspection squads?”

“You do.”

Liu Xi grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.

“Got it!”

Qian Xiaohai stepped forward.

“My Lord, what about me?”

“You monitor the money houses. Starting today, all incoming and outgoing accounts must be reported daily. Anyone attempting large private transfers—freeze principal and interest alike.”

“Understood!”

Zhao Dadan hesitated.

“My Lord… won’t this stir up public resentment?”

Li An shot him a glare.

“Public resentment? If the money houses collapse and silver disappears, that’s real resentment!”

“I’m saving them!”

“They don’t understand now, but they’ll thank me later!”

As he said this, even he felt uncertain inside.

Jin Daya muttered softly beside him.

“My Lord… what about the Imperial Uncle? His one million taels…”

Li An’s face twitched.

That was the most painful part.

But the million taels truly could not be produced.

“Delay him.”

Li An gritted his teeth.

“Tell the Imperial Uncle I’m raising the funds. Payment in installments within three days.”

“Can we gather it in three days?”

“If we can’t, we’ll deal with that later. First survive this crisis.”

Jin Daya opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately closed it.

He had followed Li An long enough to understand one truth:

When the Lord said everything was fine, usually it wasn’t.

When the Lord said things were bad, then it was truly over.

Right now, he was somewhere in between.

But he couldn’t think of a better solution either.

In those economic crisis textbooks from his previous life, didn’t they always mention these measures?

Controls. Freezes. Withdrawal limits.

Stabilize first, restore confidence later.

Didn’t Roosevelt do something similar during the Great Depression? Bank holidays, deposit insurance, withdrawal restrictions.

The logic was the same.

It should be fine.

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Why are you all standing there? Move!”

The four men answered in unison and hurried out.

Only Li An remained in the vast, empty hall.

He glanced at the system panel again.

【Current National Fortune: 212,503】

It hadn’t dropped further.

But it hadn’t risen either.

“Stabilized is good enough.”

He exhaled deeply.

“Put out the fire first. The rest can wait.”

However, reality soon proved that Li An’s understanding of “putting out a fire” and reality itself were separated by an unbridgeable chasm.

The decree took effect immediately.

But not in the way he imagined.

Morning, around the hour of Chen.

Outside Tongji Money House.

Yesterday there had been long lines.

Today—not a single person.

Not because they didn’t want to withdraw money.

But because over a dozen burly “inspection squad” members stood at the entrance.

Each holding thick wooden staffs, looking fierce.

At the front stood Liu Xi.

Hands on hips, shouting:

“Listen up! Any withdrawal exceeding one hundred taels must have Lord Li’s personal approval! No approval, no entry!”

The crowd erupted.

“One hundred taels? I deposited five hundred taels! I need approval to withdraw my own money?”

“Why are you shouting? Your deposit still earns interest. It’s not like we’re not returning it.”

“Then when will it be returned?”

“When the Lord approves.”

“When will the Lord approve?”

Liu Xi thought for a moment.

“That… hard to say. The Lord handles countless affairs daily.”

“Three days? Five days?”

“Maybe ten days. Maybe eight.”

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

Then, as if someone had flipped a switch—

Everyone turned around and went home.

And the first thing they did at home was not curse Li An.

They hid their valuables.

Silver sewn into wall cracks.

Gold hairpins shoved beneath the stove.

Rice jars secured with three locks.

Because they no longer trusted anyone.

Not the money houses.

Not the Tongbao Notes.

Not the court.

Not even their neighbors.

By noon—

More than half the city’s shops had closed.

Rice stores stopped selling rice.

Cloth shops stopped selling cloth.

Even Old Wang the bun seller packed up his stall.

His reason?

“I don’t dare accept Tongbao Notes, and you don’t have silver. What am I selling for?”

East Market.

Li An walked through the streets with Jin Daya.

He looked at the tightly shut shop doors and empty roads, feeling disoriented.

“Where are the people?”

He asked.

“Went home, I suppose.”

Jin Daya answered cautiously.

“Went home? Yesterday it was packed!”

“That was yesterday. Today…”

Jin Daya forced a bitter smile.

“Today the control order came out. Everyone retreated.”

Li An looked baffled.

“This isn’t right.”

“The controls are meant to stabilize the market. Once stabilized, they should come out and spend.”

“Why did everything shut down instead?”

Jin Daya wanted to say, “Well, of course—if you won’t even let people withdraw their money, who would dare come out and spend?”

But after glancing at Li An’s expression, he swallowed the words.

“Maybe… they just need some time to adjust.”

“Adjust my ass!”

Li An irritably kicked a stone by the roadside.

The pebble rolled far down the street and thudded dully against the tightly shut door of a shop.

No one responded.

The entire street was as silent as a ghost town.

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded from the distance.

It was the Minister of Revenue, Qian Tong.

He ran over drenched in sweat, his official hat crooked, mud splattered across his robe.

“Lord Li! Lord Li!”

He grabbed Li An’s sleeve, panting so hard he could barely breathe.

“There’s trouble!”

“What now?”

“Several grain merchants in the South City have jointly protested! They say the control order violates ancestral law and are preparing a collective memorial to impeach you!”

Li An frowned.

“They dare?”

“Oh, they dare more than that.”

Qian Tong continued:

“The ringleader posted a notice outside his shop—very harshly worded. Hundreds have gathered to watch. The inspection squad doesn’t dare to act.”

Li An knitted his brows and said,

“Disperse them. Today is not the day to stir up further trouble.”

Qian Tong left with a bitter expression.

Li An remained where he was, staring again at the empty street.

Suddenly, he recalled a sentence from a history class in his previous life:

You can do anything with bayonets—except sit on them.

Damn it. He used to think that line made a lot of sense.

Now that he was the one wielding the bayonet, he understood what it truly meant.

Ding!

【Warning! Commercial activity in the capital has dropped by 90%!】

【Mass shop closures! Consumer market stalled!】

【Private Tongbao notes have crashed in value! Black market rate falls to 30% of face value!】

【National Fortune -3,000】

【Current National Fortune: 209,503】

Li An stared at the bright red -3,000, his face turning green.

Three thousand points!

Just issuing the control order cost him three thousand?

“Impossible.”

He muttered to himself.

“It must be temporary. Once they get used to it, it’ll be fine. Just give them time to adjust.”

“It’ll get better.”

Standing alone on the empty street, he told himself for the third time.

On the resplendent golden hall of Northern Yan, the atmosphere between ruler and ministers was the complete opposite of Great Qi’s.

One word:

Exhilarated.

The Prime Minister of Northern Yan strode forward holding an urgent secret report and knelt.

“Your Majesty! Emergency intelligence from Great Qi!”

Emperor Murong Ba sat on the dragon throne, chewing on a roasted sweet potato.

Yes. A roasted sweet potato.

He ate one every day now.

Simply because it was sweet and fragrant.

“Read.”

The Prime Minister unfolded the report, excitement barely concealed.

“Li An, the key reform official of Great Qi, has issued a ‘Wartime Economic Control Order’ due to an uncontrolled economic crisis.”

“He has forcibly frozen large withdrawals, sealed merchants refusing Tongbao notes, and formed inspection squads to suppress civilians!”

“More than half the capital’s shops have closed! Citizens are hoarding grain, and black markets are rampant!”

“Great Qi’s Tongbao notes have fallen to 30% of face value on the black market!”

When he finished, his eyes gleamed.

“Your Majesty! Great Qi is in chaos!”

“Li An is tearing down his own Great Wall!”

Murong Ba slowly set down his half-eaten sweet potato and wiped his hands.

Then he smiled.

A deeply satisfied smile.

“Prime Minister Han, tell me—are sweet potatoes delicious?”

The Prime Minister froze, confused.

“Very much so, Your Majesty.”

“And who do we thank for that?”

“…Li An of Great Qi.”

Murong Ba slapped the armrest of his throne and stood up.

“Exactly!”

“He sent us sweet potatoes. Now our grain supply is secure.”

“He sent us new iron-smelting techniques. Now our armor is superior.”

“He spoke of technical exchange and peaceful trade—ha!”

He clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the hall entrance, gazing southward.

“I truly ought to thank him.”

“Without Li An, where would Northern Yan be today?”

The Prime Minister nodded eagerly.

“Your Majesty is wise! That man Li An is a treasure sent by Heaven to our Yan!”

“Those policies of his—credit systems, Tongbao notes, fiat currency…”

“They’re nothing but drinking poison to quench thirst!”

Murong Ba glanced at him.

“You can see that?”

“I may not understand the fancy terms,” the Prime Minister smiled, “but I know one thing.”

“If the people can’t withdraw their own silver, the state is finished.”

“No matter what you call it—control or regulation.”

“Once the people lose trust, no trick will work.”

Murong Ba nodded.

“Pass down my orders.”

“Have Yelü Xiong intensify troop training.”

“Stockpile three more months of grain and weapons.”

“When Great Qi truly descends into chaos…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

But everyone in the hall understood.

The Minister of War, Helian Da, stepped forward first.

“Your Majesty! I request to redeploy eighty thousand elite troops from Iron Eagle Stronghold three hundred li south, closer to the Great Qi border!”

“Approved.”

“I request to conscript able-bodied men from the steppe tribes and expand cavalry by twenty thousand!”

“Approved.”

“Your Majesty, I request—”

“Approved. All of it.”

Murong Ba waved his hand and returned to his throne.

The Prime Minister pressed further.

“Your Majesty, another matter.”

“Speak.”

“The Mohist craftsmen the Ninth Princess brought back from Great Qi have settled here.”

“They’ve improved our ironworks—daily refined iron output is five times what it was.”

“Additionally, sweet potatoes have been widely planted along the steppe frontier. This autumn’s harvest could conservatively sustain three hundred thousand troops for the entire winter.”

Murong Ba’s lips curved upward.

“Three hundred thousand?”

“Conservatively. Including tribal crops—five hundred thousand is possible.”

Murong Ba inhaled deeply.

Five hundred thousand troops. Well supplied. Well armed.

And across the border, Great Qi was tearing itself apart.

Such an opportunity came once in a century.

He picked up the sweet potato again and took a large bite.

After chewing twice, he suddenly burst into laughter.

“Li An, Li An—well done!”

“I truly must thank you!”

Capital City — Night

Li An returned home.

Hongmei followed silently behind him like a shadow.

His steps were far heavier than when he had left that morning.

After a full day of inspections, the situation was worse than he had imagined.

Not only were shops closed—morning markets were gone.

Vegetable farmers stopped entering the city.

They would rather let their crops rot in the fields than accept those “worthless Tongbao notes.”

The people were hoarding grain.

Those with surplus refused to sell.

Those without began to panic.

Li An entered his study and shut the door.

Alone, he swiped his hand through the air.

The system interface appeared.

The numbers made his heart sink.

【Current National Fortune: 205,103】

From 212,000 last night to 205,000 now.

Over seven thousand lost in a single day.

And that was just one day.

What about tomorrow? The day after?

He stared at the number as a chill climbed from his feet to the crown of his head.

Ding!

【Warning! Market collapse! Public trust lost!】

【Economic controls intensify social panic! National Fortune -10,000!】

His hand trembled.

Ten thousand?

Ten thousand?!

He blinked hard, thinking he’d misread it.

He hadn’t.

The red numbers were glaring.

【National Fortune -10,000】

【Current National Fortune: 195,103】

From over 214,000 to below 195,000 in less than two days?

Li An collapsed into his chair.

He felt something inside his mind snap with a sharp crack.

It was his confidence in “strengthening the nation.”

“Wait…”

“System, is there still a way to save this?”

No response.

The damned system never spoke when he needed it most.

“This shouldn’t be happening…”

“Controls stabilize markets. Freezing withdrawals prevents bank runs…”

“Isn’t that what the textbooks said?”

“Why did it turn out like this?”