Ming East India Company

Shiro sat in a chair at the Satsuma Domain residence, toying with a walnut sent by the Mori family in his hand, while listening to Su Zhongman's report on the other side.

"Can the Maori family still lend out food?"

The Choshu Mori Domain needed to unite with Ryukyu to fight against the shogunate, so it had always been responsive to Hakuno's requests.

"I'm afraid it's no use. We've begged the Mori family several times since last year, and the total debt is no less than 300,000 koku. The Choshu Domain's annual grain production is less than 2 million koku, so no matter how much we squeeze, we can't get any more out of them."

Su Zhongman sighed as he spoke.

The winds of the Little Ice Age at the end of the Ming Dynasty not only reached the Ming Dynasty, but also affected the surrounding small and medium-sized regimes.

Japan under the rule of the shogunate has had poor harvests in the last two years, the people are impoverished, and even the old tortoise Tokugawa has begun to advocate that everyone should cut back on food and clothing.

According to intelligence, Tokugawa himself has recently been eating only one meal a day.

"Moreover, if the disaster victims go to Dongfan to reclaim wasteland, they will need to invest a lot of food in advance, and the next few years will probably be more difficult than the last."

With a stern face, Su Zhongman spoke of what he was most worried about.

Since ancient times, commoners have needed to save up for at least three years' worth of grain before they could cultivate the land, because they could not recoup their investment in the first three years of land reclamation. The first year was for land reclamation, the second for fertilizing the land, and the third for cultivating seedlings.

It's no different for disaster victims who don't have enough capital to cultivate wasteland than for them to starve to death.

This is why no one has ever solved the food problem by clearing land since ancient times; it's too slow and a distant solution to an immediate problem.

"We must now find another stable source of food. Otherwise, the entire Ryukyu Kingdom will be in turmoil within three months at most."

"What can the rest of the cabinet do?"

After conquering Ryukyu, Hakuno was too busy to handle everything, so he established a new cabinet.

Bai Ling, Bai Wenzheng, Wang Sanshi, and others have now joined the cabinet and handle daily affairs, while important matters are decided by Bai Ye.

"They had no better options either. Minister Wang Sanshi suggested that we send troops to Southeast Asia to raid Caogu. The Westerners and the Annamese have some stored grain there."

Shiro chuckled:

"That warmonger is at it again. Sending troops to war is no easy task. Ryukyu now has only sea and no land. Fighting naval battles to plunder trade routes is one thing, but going ashore to attack their grazing lands is just suicide!"

After rejecting Wang Sanshi's proposal, Bai Ye fell into deep thought.

Where exactly can we find food?

In this timeline of East Asia, the Ming Dynasty undoubtedly had the most abundant grain.

Based on the principle of targeting those with money, Bai Ye decided to take action against Da Ming.

After a moment's hesitation, he raised his hand and instructed his attendant, "Go and invite Eunuch Luo over."

Before long, Luo Sigong, dressed in plain eunuch robes, with a slender figure and deep-set eyes, slowly walked into the hall.

After bowing, Luo Sigong stood with his head bowed, speaking respectfully: "What are your orders, Master?"

Bai Ye raised his hand to gesture for a seat, his tone heavy:

"Your Excellency has long served in the central government of the Ming Dynasty and is well-versed in the nation's finances and taxes. Now, the number of refugees in Ryukyu Island, Satsuma, and Taiwan is surging, food reserves are running low, and there is a severe food shortage, putting us in imminent danger."

"I have specially invited you, sir, to come today to explain in detail the Ming Dynasty's annual grain collection, canal transport, and storage, as well as the abundance and scarcity of grain in various regions, so that I may find ways to procure provisions."

Upon hearing this, Luo Sigong's body trembled slightly. He looked up at Bai Ye, a knowing glint in his eyes. Having spent half his life in the Ming Dynasty, he knew best the chaotic state of the grain supply during the Wanli reign. He immediately spoke slowly, each word detailed and precise.

"My lord, the Ming Dynasty is now implementing the Single Whip Law, which measures all land in the country by land area and population, combining grain and labor services, with fixed quotas for summer taxes and autumn grains each year."

The total annual grain quota for both official and private farmland nationwide was over 23 million shi (a unit of dry measure). The Jiangnan region (Suzhou, Songjiang, Zhejiang, Jiangxi, and Huguang) was the nation's granary; these four provinces alone accounted for over 10 million shi of grain annually, more than half of the Ming Dynasty's total. Fujian and Guangdong, along the coast, followed. The northern provinces of Shandong and Henan were barren, with meager grain production, and relied heavily on supplies from the south.

Bai Ye tapped his fingertips on the table, listening intently: "How much grain has been transported? How much is stored in the capital, the border towns, and the imperial granaries? Can the surplus grain in the countryside be secretly transported overseas?"

Luo Sigong sighed softly and began to explain: "The Ming Dynasty transported four million shi of grain annually, which went directly to the capital via the Grand Canal to support the imperial palace, the imperial guards, and the salaries of all officials. Not a single grain could be touched without authorization."

The nine key border towns consumed tens of millions of shi of grain annually, all relying on transfers from the south. However, due to layers of deductions and losses along the way, less than 70% actually reached the border. The official granaries of the Ministry of Revenue and the granaries of prefectures and counties appeared to be full of grain, but in reality, they were heavily in arrears.

During the Wanli Emperor's decades of neglect of governance, local officials concealed acreage, powerful clans seized land, and the people suffered from famine and were unable to pay taxes. Nationwide, the accumulated arrears of grain tribute and taxes amounted to millions of shi (a unit of dry measure), and empty granaries were commonplace in prefectures and counties.

After bringing his family to Ryukyu, Luo Sigong had become a loyal henchman of Hakuno "wholeheartedly," and therefore no longer spoke respectfully of the Ming emperor.

"Besides the grain tax, most of the land tax in Jiangnan is converted into silver and handed over. The annual income from silver is over one million taels, while the actual amount of grain is decreasing."

The southeast has suffered from drought and flood for years, and the famine in Fujian and Zhejiang has lasted for several years. People have been displaced, and fields have been abandoned. The government not only has no grain to distribute, but also imposes extra taxes, forcing people to flee across the sea. These are the refugees that our lord is now taking in.

The local government's granaries were empty, and they were too busy saving themselves to have any public grain to sell elsewhere.

Bai Ye's expression grew increasingly grave: "How much grain are the wealthy and powerful families hoarding? And are there any large-scale purchases of grain through private trade along the coast?"

"Officials and gentry in Jiangnan, and prominent families in Fujian and Zhejiang, all hoarded countless grains."

The Ming Dynasty suffered from uneven taxation, and powerful families hid their land and did not have to pay taxes. After each year's bumper harvest, they stockpiled grain, filling their granaries to the brim.

However, the imperial court strictly prohibited maritime trade, and the unauthorized export of grain was a serious crime, punishable by confiscation of property and extermination of the entire family. Ordinary merchants dared not transport grain across the sea on a large scale, only smuggling small quantities smuggled in private. As the saying goes, "One should not transport firewood for a hundred miles, nor grain for a thousand miles," and the meager quantity was far from enough to alleviate the master's urgent crisis.

Luo Sigong paused for a moment, then pointed out the deepest flaw in the Ming Dynasty's grain tax system:

"Furthermore, the losses in the Ming Dynasty's grain transport were staggering. Grain ships traveling north along waterways covered thousands of miles, and were subject to spoilage, theft, and exploitation along the way, resulting in losses of more than half of the grain.

Layer upon layer of officials colluded, with prefectures and counties doubling their grain requisitions. For every shi (a unit of dry measure) the people paid, less than three dou (another unit of dry measure) actually entered the granaries. Vast amounts of grain were wasted on transportation and embezzlement. The problem wasn't a lack of grain, but rather that it wasn't in the official granaries or among the people; it was entirely in the hands of powerful families, local officials, and corrupt officials.

Luo Sigong looked up in the direction of the Ming Dynasty and said with a pained expression:

"The coastal areas of Fujian and Zhejiang suffered the most severe disasters this year, resulting in the largest number of people fleeing the disaster. Local wealthy households took advantage of the disaster to drive down grain prices and hoard large quantities, intending to sell them at high prices when grain prices soared."

The government was powerless to control the situation and could only allow grain prices to skyrocket. Displaced people had nowhere to go but to seek refuge with landlords. Now, the price of privately owned grain along the coast is rising several times a day, and even with exorbitant sums, it's difficult to purchase a stable supply in large quantities.

The candlelight in the side hall of Kagoshima Castle flickered, casting the shadows of the two people on the wooden wall, sometimes long and sometimes short.

The sea breeze outside the hall never ceased, carrying the chill of late autumn that seeped into the hall.

Shirane tapped her fingertips lightly on the cool tabletop, then asked again:

"What you just said about the staggering losses in the grain transport is a general estimate of 20%. I want to hear the details. From the county and prefecture collection of grain to its storage in the capital, along the thousand-mile canal, at every stage and at every post, where exactly did the grain go to be lost?"

Luo Sigong bowed slightly, his tone solemn, and he meticulously broke down the details with clear logic:

There are three main problems with the loss of grain transported by canal.

One drawback was the extortion and exploitation by gatekeepers and inspectors along the river.

The grain transport boats set off from Jiangnan and headed north, passing numerous locks and checkpoints along the way.

At each sluice gate, the gatekeeper would demand fees under the pretext of water consumption during sluice gate opening and the hard work of guarding the river. The canal transport garrison soldiers, having no silver to pay, would simply take the grain from the boats to offset the fee.

From Suzhou and Songjiang to the capital, at dozens of locks and sluices, grain was siphoned off at every turn. Along the way, more than ten percent of the grain on the boats was lost. This was blatant theft, openly using regulations as a pretext for corruption.

"The second, and most serious, problem is the theft and sale of flags by the porters along the way."

At this point, Luo Sigong shook his head slightly, full of helplessness:

"Nowadays, the canal transport garrisons are in a state of disrepair, and the bannermen and canal soldiers have long lost their military spirit. The canal is a long and arduous journey, taking months to sail, and there are countless towns and wharves along the way."

At each stop, the soldiers would secretly dig out hidden compartments in the bottom of the boats to unload fine rice and sell it ashore. To make up for the shortfall in the accounts, they would draw water from the river to fill the grain bags, or fill them with wet chaff and sand.

A single grain transport ship carrying 10,000 shi (a unit of dry measure) of grain would travel north, and it was common practice for them to secretly sell two or three thousand shi. This happened year after year, without any oversight, and had become an unspoken rule of the grain transport system.

Luo Sigong paused, a hint of sorrow seemingly flickering in his eyes, and finally said weakly:

"The final drawback was that it was stored in the granaries of the capital."

When the grain transport ships arrived at the Tongzhou and Beijing docks, it seemed like the end of their journey, but in reality, the final round of exploitation was just beginning.

The Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, who was in charge of the granary and the eunuch in charge of receiving guests, was extremely greedy.

They deliberately nitpicked the quality and dryness of the grain, and regardless of its quality, they picked out all the "unqualified" grain and ordered the laborers to sell it on the spot at a reduced price to atone for their sins.

If they refused to comply, the entire ship's load of grain would be confiscated and refused entry into the granary. The transport workers, already depleted and unable to resist, had no choice but to accept the punishment. Of the last shi (a unit of dry measure) of grain, only four or five dou (another unit of dry measure) would be safely stored in the imperial granary.

"After these three malpractices, less than 30% of the grain was able to reach the capital intact. The rest was all embezzled by officials at all levels."

Inside the side hall, the candlelight flickered. After listening to the entire account of the grain consumption in the canal transport, Bai Ye had already figured out the source of the grain. He then changed the subject and looked at Luo Sigong with a calm gaze.

"I am fully aware of the amount of grain consumed and the losses along the way."

Now, let me ask you again: the Ming Dynasty's north-south canal transport system was vast. Who were the people who held real power from top to bottom? What were their respective positions, what were their responsibilities, and how much profit did they reap from the enormous profits of the canal transport each year?

Luo Sigong was well aware of this. Having spent many years in the palace, he was intimately familiar with the power, responsibilities, and interests of the court. He immediately began to speak calmly, explaining the situation step by step from the highest to the lowest level.

"My lord, the Ming Dynasty's canal transport system is strictly hierarchical, running from the central government all the way down to the prefectures and counties. The responsibilities and powers are clearly defined, and every official at every level has a way to make money. There are five levels of people in power from top to bottom, and everyone has their own way to enrich themselves."

"The first one is the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner, stationed in Huai'an Prefecture. He is the highest-ranking official in charge of the entire north-south canal transport, a second-rank official, who oversees all matters related to the collection, exchange, dispatch, and inspection of grain transport in Jiangnan and Jiangbei. All 40,000 grain transport troops in the country are under his command, and the allocation of river sluices and grain transport boats can be determined by his word."

This man was the most powerful person in charge of the grain transport, wielding immense power and controlling the entire system. He didn't need to personally intervene in the theft and sale of grain; he only needed to oversee the overall situation, tacitly approve his subordinates' actions, and collect tributes from various places.

During peak seasons for grain transport, officials from various provinces, prefectures, counties, and military commanders of the grain transport garrisons in the Jiangnan region would all take the initiative to offer gifts and tributes.

Just from the customary tributes and seasonal gifts from various regions, one could steadily amass thirty to forty thousand taels of silver a year. If one were bold enough to cultivate connections and tacitly allow subordinates to embezzle large sums, one could amass seventy to eighty thousand taels of silver a year, making them the most lucrative figures in the grain transport business.

Bai Ye nodded slightly, noting it down, and then asked, "Below the Governor-General, who is in charge?"

"The second rank consists of the provincial grain commissioners and prefectural-level grain management assistants."

Luo Sigong continued,

"In the major grain-producing areas of Jiangnan, such as Suzhou, Songjiang, Hangzhou, Jiaxing, and Huzhou, each province has a grain commissioner who is specifically responsible for supervising the collection, counting, and allocation of grain in a province. He is a key figure connecting local prefectures and counties with the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner. The Grain Management Assistant Prefect in the prefecture is stationed in the local area to coordinate the grain affairs of the prefecture."

They held the power to inspect local grain shipments, and the quality of the grain delivered by the people, the amount of rice consumed, and whether it was allowed to be loaded onto ships were all decided by them.

They embezzled public grain by levying taxes on surplus grain, deducting from farmers' grain, and exchanging superior and inferior grain. Even an ordinary prefectural-level grain official could steadily earn over ten thousand taels of silver a year, while wealthy grain-producing prefectures could amass over twenty thousand taels annually, easily accumulating thousands of bushels of grain.

"The third rank consists of officials from the River Conservancy Office, led by the River Conservancy Councilor, the heads of various sluice gates, and the River Patrol Censor..."

"Wait a minute," Bai Ye interrupted Luo Sigong's long-winded explanation:

"So, even if the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner embezzled everything in a year, he would only earn a little over 100,000 taels, which is only five or six times what his subordinates earned?"

These words confused Luo Sigong. Five or six times was still too little!

He asked Shirayuki with a puzzled look:

"Does the owner mean he thinks he's not greedy enough?"

Baiye said with a smile:

"If you were the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner, and you were able to embezzle all the grain that was originally allocated to your subordinates, how would you feel?"

Luo Sigong hesitated for a moment, then said thoughtfully:

"If I were the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner, and someone actually gave me this much, I would be more than happy to accept it..."

"How could that be!"

Luo Sigong began teaching Baiye Daming the "basic skills" of officialdom:

"Since ancient times, everyone has had a share in this matter of corruption. If you don't give your subordinates benefits, they won't follow you."

Some people would even complain to the censors if they ate less, out of envy. A large portion of the corruption cases during the Wanli reign were exposed in this way...

If the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner tries to bypass officials at all levels and monopolize the profits, he'll likely be imprisoned by the Embroidered Uniform Guard within three months.

Upon hearing this, Bai Ye burst into laughter:

"Thank you, sir. Our Ryukyu Kingdom is saved today."