Chapter 70: Life-saving Money

Xu Jingchang woke up very early. He chose a set of plain clothing, wore no excessive accessories on his body, and simply carried a folding fan. Though it was still within the first lunar month and not yet warm enough to need a fan for cooling, the item was intended to project the air and prestige of a wealthy young aristocrat.

Leaving aside the quality of the fan itself, even its pendant was a piece of fine ancient jade, bearing imperial craftsmanship bestowed directly by Zhu Yuanzhang.

There was simply no alternative. While other noble households would respectfully enshrine any imperial bestowal, the Xu family was an exception. Xu Da had followed Zhu Yuanzhang through life and death for decades, ranking first among the founding meritorious officials, and was also tied to the imperial family through marriage.

In earlier years, Xu Huizu, Xu Zengshou, and others frequently ran into the imperial palace, and during every festive season, they brought home no shortage of fine treasures.

Xu Jingchang could not let such treasures gather dust, so he had no choice but to begrudgingly make use of them.

"Prepare the carriage. We will first visit the Duke of Rongguo's estate, and then head to the Qinhuai River."

Upon hearing this, the family servants all found it rather novel.

Their young master truly refused to walk the beaten path. Taking an elderly monk to drink wine and visit pleasure quarters—was this something a normal person would do?

Though everyone grumbled inwardly, no one dared to voice any objection. The present Xu Jingchang was long past being a mere child; whenever matters arose, he still required the consultation of his family retainers.

As the Director of the Office of General Administration, his power was boundless.

Perhaps not quite throughout the entire Ming Dynasty, but within the Xu family estate, it certainly was so.

He boarded the carriage, invited Yao Guangxiao to join him, and the two soon arrived at a teahouse not far from the painted pleasure boats of the Qinhuai River.

This was the very same place where Xu Jingchang had once brought Zhu Di to apprehend corrupt officials, and now he was revisiting familiar ground.

Yao Guangxiao rolled his triangular eyes. "The next time you visit such a place, do not call upon this old monk. I have no interest in it."

Xu Jingchang chuckled and said, "Your Reverence is a practitioner of Buddhism. I have invited you here specifically to witness what a living Buddha and Bodhisattva truly look like in the hearts of the common people. This is a meritorious deed that aids your spiritual cultivation, yet you only think of pink skeletons and worldly illusions. The gap between our realms of understanding is growing wider and wider."

Yao Guangxiao let out a double chuckle. "This old monk sees no Buddha or Bodhisattva; I smell only the stench of copper coins."

Xu Jingchang smiled. "The statues of deities inside temples are all piled high with gold and jade. From this, it is evident that the path of copper wealth is the most effective way to commune with the divine."

Yao Guangxiao drew a breath and said calmly, "Let us wait and see!"

The elderly monk spoke no further, and Xu Jingchang simply sipped his tea.

Right below the teahouse was a storefront operating as a lending shop.

The facade was small, consisting of only two bays, far inferior to the grand and imposing storefronts nearby. Set up in haste with little preparation, it simply hung a sign bearing three characters: "Prince Han's Loans."

Before business even officially began, the area outside was already bustling, drawing a considerable crowd.

There were even newspaper delivery boys holding copies of the imperial gazette and shouting at the top of their lungs.

It mattered not for those who were illiterate, for there were actually people helping to read the gazette aloud and explaining the details of the loan system.

"Listen well, everyone! This is the enterprise of His Highness the Prince of Han... Do you know who the Prince of Han is? He is the renowned great philanthropist and the conscience of the Ming Dynasty! He takes pity on the common people and charges an interest rate of only fifteen percent. Listen carefully, everyone, this is an annual interest rate, not half a year, nor three months! And there is no such thing as compound interest rolling over upon itself!"

"You wouldn't know this, but to help the impoverished common people, His Highness the Prince of Han was falsely accused by treacherous villains and fined a vast portion of his estate. Yet, His Highness still takes pity on all of you and is willing to offer these loans."

"Those in your homes who lack money, those struggling through the lean season between harvests who cannot make ends meet, and those burdened by high-interest usury loans that they cannot repay—there is no need to sell your sons and daughters! Come here to borrow money instead. The Prince of Han stands as guarantor, fair and honest to young and old alike!"

A few days earlier, Xu Jingchang had ordered Wang Zhong to parade the Prince of Han's confiscated assets through the streets of Yingtian. Following continuous publicity in the imperial gazette over the subsequent days, the effects were finally beginning to show.

An increasing number of people had heard about the Prince of Han's endeavor. Though many remained skeptical, there were always those courageous enough to take the first step.

Once they entered, they quickly obtained their loans and emerged beaming with joy.

After about an hour, amidst the crowd, a stooped elderly farmer mustered his courage and stepped inside.

"My old woman has fallen gravely ill, hanging by a single breath. I couldn't scrape together the money for her medicine, and someone told me to sell my daughter in exchange for money to save her mother. But I figured, even if her mother managed to live, upon hearing that her girl was sold, she wouldn't survive either... I was simply driven to my wits' end."

As the old farmer spoke, he covered his face and wept bitterly.

The staff member in charge of issuing loans nodded and asked, "Do you own any land at home?"

"I do, but it's rented from someone else. If it were my own, I would have sold it long ago."

The loan officer nodded again. "Then do you possess any trade skills? Do you have a means of making a living?"

The old farmer replied, "I am a mason. During the farming lull, I can help people build houses, and year-round, I can earn a bit of petty cash."

The loan officer then inquired about his place of residence and whether he was a registered, law-abiding citizen. The old farmer answered each question in turn.

The loan officer nodded. "In your situation, you can borrow up to one hundred guan. By this time next year, you need only repay one hundred and fifteen guan. Are you willing?"

The old farmer froze, his lips trembling as he asked, "How much?"

"One hundred and fifteen guan, with an annual interest rate of fifteen percent. Did you hear clearly?"

"I—I heard clearly!" The old farmer was overjoyed. One hundred guan in paper currency sounded like a large sum, but calculated at its current value, one guan of paper money was worth thirty to fifty copper wen, making the total roughly three to five taels of silver. The interest was less than one tael—merely a few hundred copper wen. When summer came, by rising early and working tirelessly to build a few more houses for people both in his village and from neighboring districts, working hard for a few months, he would definitely be able to pay it back.

To be able to save his wife's life through a little hard labor—only a fool would be unwilling!

"She has followed me for the greater part of a lifetime and never enjoyed a single day of ease. I was only afraid that if I borrowed the money, I wouldn't be able to repay it, wouldn't save her life, and would drag the whole family down with us."

The loan officer patiently explained, "This has been arranged by His Highness the Prince of Han. If repayment truly becomes impossible due to natural or man-made disasters, the term can be appropriately extended. As for the interest, it can be negotiated; no one will be driven to a dead end. Furthermore, I can tell you another thing: the paper currency borrowed here can be used to pay land taxes and poll taxes, and you can even use it to buy edible salt."

"Is that true?" the old farmer cried out in astonishment. "Will the lords at the yamen accept it?"

The loan officer smiled. "The paper currency you see has the official seal of the Ministry of Revenue stamped on the back. Rest assured, this paper money can not only be used to pay taxes, but it also suffers no depreciation. This is a grace petitioned for by His Highness the Prince of Han and His Majesty. Everyone must believe that both His Majesty and the Prince of Han wish well for the common people. It is only certain corrupt officials who are black-hearted, along with some unreasonable local gentry and wealthy households who suck the marrow from our bones. Rest assured, this is a loan permitted by the imperial court, and the interest collected by the Prince of Han is itself taxed. Anyone who dares to obstruct this will have the upright officials of the Ministry of Punishments intervene to uphold justice for you..."

The old farmer listened intently, committing every word to memory. Only then did he take the one hundred guan and walk out through the front entrance.

He looked back at the modest storefront and suddenly dropped to both knees.

"A living Bodhisattva! I kowtow to you!"

Having said this, the old man climbed back to his feet, turned on his heel, and headed straight to the apothecary. He retrieved three doses of medicine and hurried home in a rush.

Being a countryman, if it weren't for saving his wife, how would he ever have dared to enter the city of Yingtian?

He had mustered his courage to enter Yingtian, found the apothecary, and inquired about the necessary prescription... but the meager coins he carried with him were nowhere near enough!

After wandering outside for a long time, as night fell, he leaned against a willow tree and slept outdoors.

Unable to think of a way to save his wife, he was unwilling to return empty-handed.

If he went back like that, the only option left would be to sell his daughter.

Fortunately, the apothecary was not far from the Qinhuai River area. The next day, upon hearing someone reading the imperial gazette about the loan program, the old farmer had summoned his courage to apply for the money.

Never in his entire life had he been so brave. A man who normally wouldn't even venture outside his own village had entered the capital of the Ming Dynasty—the very heartland of the realm.

He had gone to the large apothecary, consulted renowned physicians of the day, borrowed money from the Prince of Han, and purchased the medicine. Carrying the three doses of medicine, the old man ran all the way, desperate to rush back home.

By the time he reached home, it was already the dead of night. The moment he pushed open the door, he collapsed headfirst into the courtyard.

Hearing the commotion, his son and daughter hurriedly rushed out, and the neighbors, hearing the news as well, all hurried over to carry the old man indoors.

"Don't—don't mind me. Quickly go brew the medicine for the children's mother."

The old farmer mumbled in a low voice, deeply moving the surrounding villagers.

"Old Ma, set your mind at ease. Third Aunt has gone to brew the medicine; she knows how to do it. We'll cook a bowl of noodles for you. You haven't eaten anything these past two days, have you? You've starved yourself half to death!"

That was no exaggeration. A poor commoner, in order to save his wife's life, could not bear to spend even a single copper coin unnecessarily.

Things in the capital were so expensive!

Afterwards, he would have to exert all his strength to labor and repay the loan early, along with the interest—not a single cash of it could be short.

Having eaten the noodles, Old Man Ma regained some of his spirit.

In the inner room, his ailing wife drank the medicine as well. It had to be said that the renowned physicians of Yingtian were truly formidable; merely by listening to the symptoms to prescribe the cure, the treatment proved effective.

After three doses of medicine, his wife genuinely began to recover.

Old Man Ma's journey to Yingtian unexpectedly turned him into a celebrity within the village.

Though it was less than a hundred miles from the capital, within this isolated village, very few people dared to go to the capital to broaden their horizons, and even fewer were able to accomplish what they set out to do.

Especially since he had dared to borrow money—that made him all the more remarkable!

The villagers finally came to understand that over in Yingtian, there was a Prince of Han who charged low interest and was willing to help the poor—a true living Bodhisattva.

"Preceptor Yao, attaining Buddhahood is not difficult; one merely needs to be willing to lower the interest rates on loans. Yet the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in the temples seem eager to turn the very last copper coin in the common people's pockets into curling wisps of incense smoke. At this rate, let alone Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, even Asuras and wicked ghosts would be put to shame!"

Yao Guangxiao nodded for once. "Indeed. It seems this old monk cannot avoid contributing his own wealth as well."