Chapter 53: The Emperor Who Holds the Entire Situation in His Hands!

Since the outbreak of the currency crisis, it appeared on the surface to be a struggle between unscrupulous merchants led by Guo Wanjin and the upright businessmen headed by Wang Yuanbao and Mei Xianzi. In reality, it was a fierce confrontation between the Left Prime Minister’s faction and the Right Prime Minister’s faction.

Both sides exchanged blows and unleashed their best strategies, their minds nearly worn out from the battle. Yet the supreme ruler of the Tang Empire—Emperor Li Longji—showed no reaction whatsoever. This was hardly reasonable.

Was the emperor indifferent to the matter?

Not at all.

The emperor was not neglectful; rather, he was observing coldly from the sidelines, secretly plotting.

It must be understood that since ancient times, emperors were least afraid of internal disputes among ministers. The fiercer the conflicts, the more secure the emperor’s throne became. If one day the ministers ceased their struggles and fought no more, then the emperor would truly have cause to worry.

Of course, such conflicts had to be kept within certain limits—never threatening the empire itself, let alone the throne.

Otherwise, the emperor would unsheathe his precious sword and unleash a massacre.

This is the art of rulership, centered on eight words: maintain balance, control the whole.

Take this currency crisis, for example: the emperor’s delay in intervening was deliberate, aimed at gauging the strength of the Left and Right factions and seeing how far the struggle could go. When both sides were utterly exhausted, he would strike decisively.

As for whom that blow would fall upon—that depended on the situation.

Li Zhao, though untrained in the art of rulership, had watched hundreds of historical dramas and understood the patterns well. Naturally, he knew how to respond.

His recent visit to Gao Lishi was meant to send a message to the emperor: “The Right faction is manipulating the currency crisis and endangering the empire. You must intervene. If you delay, the Left faction will falter, and the balance will be lost—a consequence you well understand.”

With Gao Lishi’s shrewdness, the message would surely reach the emperor, who would soon take action.

Li Zhao could not remain idle either. He first met with Cui Zongzhi, conspiring together late into the night, then selected dozens of clever unsavory characters to carry out certain tasks. Soon, a rumor swiftly spread through the streets and alleys of Chang’an:

Due to the severity of the currency crisis threatening the empire’s stability, the sovereign—Li Longji—had decided to adopt the Right Prime Minister Li Linfu’s earlier proposal: the Ministry of Revenue would mint a batch of high-denomination coins worth one thousand wen each to quell the crisis.

These “one-thousand wen coins” were large-value copper coins equivalent to a thousand standard coins.

The news caused shock throughout the court and the capital.

Especially among the unscrupulous merchants, who scrambled to verify the rumor’s accuracy.

This news was crucial, directly affecting their vested interests.

They held vast quantities of copper coins. Since the crisis began, prices had fallen and currency value had risen. A single coin once worth one wen now counted for two or even three wen.

In other words, their wealth had multiplied invisibly. They exploited this by offering high-interest loans, rolling over debts, or buying goods cheaply locally and selling them at inflated prices elsewhere—amassing unjust fortunes.

Now, with the rumor that the court would mass-produce one-thousand wen coins, the value of copper coins would plummet drastically. A thousand wen now would be worth only one wen later.

Whoever held the most coins would suffer the greatest loss, risking ruin.

Some timid merchants began frantically spending money—buying property, land, goods—to exhaust their copper coins before the new coins appeared, hoping to avoid devaluation.

Yet many remained cautious, probing the truth behind the rumors, afraid to act prematurely and regret it bitterly.

Within days, two more rumors surfaced: first, officials from the Ministry of Revenue held continuous meetings on minting the new coins, and the coin molds had already been prepared.

Such momentous news sparked heated debate:

“Friends, this time it’s for real. We must spend our copper coins quickly, or they’ll be worthless soon.”

“Wait. The Minister of Revenue Yang Bo, the Ministry’s Director Cui Zongzhi, and several other officials are all Left faction members. This news might be a ruse, a deception.”

“That’s reasonable. We should hold back and not jump at shadows.”

...

If the first rumor barely kept the merchants cautious, the second made them leap to conclusions: the Imperial Chief Eunuch Gao Lishi suddenly purchased several estates around Chang’an at exorbitant prices. He also bought over twenty shops in the eastern and western markets, acquiring countless jewels, antiques, paintings, ivory, and rhinoceros horn.

Most importantly, all these transactions were settled in copper coins—loads of Kaiyuan Tongbao coins carried to the Right Gate’s General’s Mansion, witnessed by many passersby.

“Could this be another trick? Should we wait longer?”

“Bah! Are you daft? If you wait any longer, the opportunity will be gone!”

“Exactly. Act now, or your coins will become worthless!”

Gao Lishi was the emperor’s most trusted eunuch, serving closely and knowing the sovereign’s every thought and plan.

His constant spending of copper coins signified one thing: the news was true. The emperor was indeed preparing to issue an edict to mass mint the one-thousand wen coins to resolve the currency crisis.

At this point, the merchants stopped hesitating and flooded into markets inside and outside Chang’an. Grains, fabrics, raw silk, medicinal herbs, porcelain—anything they saw, they bought without asking prices, buying relentlessly.

With so many buyers, prices naturally soared. Wheat, for example, rose from 200 wen per shi to 1,600 wen per shi within days—an eightfold increase—and still climbing.

Yet the merchants remained frenzied, desperate to spend all their Kaiyuan Tongbao coins before the new coins debased their wealth into scrap metal.

The rapid buying soon depleted market supplies.

Seizing the moment, Wang Yuanbao and Mei Xianzi secretly ordered their trading companies to quietly release their massive stockpiles of goods onto the market, allowing the unscrupulous merchants to buy madly, draining their copper coins.

More than half a month later, the merchants’ copper coins were almost exhausted, replaced by mountains of goods.

They then planned to organize caravans to sell these goods in the Guandong region, exchanging them for gold, silver, livestock, land, property, or slaves—assets that retained value.

However, at this moment, Emperor Li Longji issued a formal edict:

“Minting one-thousand wen coins to solve the currency crisis is like drinking poison to quench thirst—short-term gain is small, but long-term harm is great. This endangers the empire and will bring disaster to future generations. I will not allow it. Earlier reports were all rumors disturbing the people; those responsible shall be punished. Citizens must neither listen nor believe. The court has other plans to resolve the crisis.”

Immediately after, Left Prime Minister Li Shizhi submitted a memorial recommending that, to address the severe shortage of goods in the Guanzhong region, checkpoints be established at Tong Pass, Wu Pass, and Xiao Pass to strictly prohibit grains, fabrics, raw silk, and other goods from flowing into Guandong, stabilizing prices and calming the populace.

The emperor approved.

The merchants were dumbfounded. Some smacked their own faces, others banged their heads against walls in frustration, and still others spat blood in rage.

After immense effort, they had just finished spending their copper coins to acquire mountains of goods, only to find the prior news false. The one-thousand wen coins didn’t exist; Kaiyuan Tongbao coins remained in circulation—and now their goods were barred from leaving the region.

Was this not a cruel deception?

Indeed it was, but who could they blame?

Only their own gullibility, for believing rumors so easily and making poor decisions.

“Whoever spread these lies, may they suffer the torments of hell eighteen times over.”

“Hmph, eighteen hells are not enough. They should be cast into the Abyss of Despair, condemned never to be reborn.”

“You’re all wrong. Only a demon king risen from the Abyss of Origins could do such a vile thing—so despicable, shameless, and treacherous... Woe is me!”

...

Helpless, the merchants cursed the culprit bitterly while trying to sell off their mountain of goods to recover copper coins.

Alas, it was too late.

Guanzhong was sealed off. Grains, fabrics, raw silk, and other goods could not be transported out, only sold locally.

But with so much supply, the market was saturated, and prices plummeted—wheat, for example, dropped to just 50 or 60 wen per shi, barely a third of normal value.

The merchants were no fools; they knew they faced huge losses.

They had to find a way to save themselves.

Thus, Guo Wanjin—the God of Wealth among the four great financiers—rallied over a hundred major merchants to collectively halt sales, hoard goods, and inflate prices, hoping to recoup losses.

But once again, they were too late.

Wang and Mei’s trading houses had already transported large quantities of supplies from Guandong and Jiangnan, selling at normal prices in Guanzhong.

Attempting to raise prices was futile.

The merchants were completely stunned, facing only two choices: continue hoarding goods and wait until new grain turned old and new cloth became worn—only to become even less valuable; or sell at normal prices, accepting heavy losses but at least recovering some capital.

Comparing the two, they naturally chose the latter.

Thus ended a fierce commercial battle.

Wang and Mei’s trading houses achieved a sweeping victory, their coffers overflowing. Other allied merchants following these two Gods of Wealth also profited handsomely.

Meanwhile, the unscrupulous merchants led by Guo Wanjin were utterly defeated, suffering severe losses and countless ruined families.

With the conclusion of this commercial war, the currency crisis was completely resolved, and peace returned once more to Chang’an.