Chapter Ninety-Six: Counterfeit Minting and Conceptual Sleight of Hand

Only Zhen Qian knew that An Lushan’s aim had never been to attack the Khitan. The Khitan campaign was merely a pretext, a cover for drilling troops and secretly stockpiling grain and silver in preparation for rebellion.

Yet Zhen Qian still did not understand why Peng Le’s levy of labor service had come knocking at his own door.

“The food at Master Zhen’s house is still the most appetizing. No wonder the Drunken Immortal Tower in the county seat is doing such brisk business. It seems the cooks in my own tavern ought to go back home and take up farming!”

Peng Le was very satisfied with the dishes Zhen Qian had prepared. He did not set down his chopsticks until he had emptied three bowls, then said, “To tell Master Zhen the truth, I have come today to beg for alms.”

Zhen Qian frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Commander An is levying next year’s labor service. One ten-thousand-stone shipment of grain must be sent to Youzhou, and at the same time each prefecture and county is to contribute another one hundred thousand stones. When it is apportioned to Luquan County, that still leaves more than ten thousand stones. There is no surplus grain in the county, so there is no choice but to levy it from the households within the county....”

The two men met each other’s gaze for a moment, and Peng Le quickly looked away. Clearly, this was a thankless task that did nothing but make enemies.

“In that case, is the Zhen household also included in the assessment?”

“Ten thousand stones is neither a small nor an enormous amount. Grain hauled from Luquan County to Youzhou will suffer losses along the way, whether by cart or by shoulder. Though the quota is said to be ten thousand stones, in truth at least twenty thousand stones are needed to get it there. After discussing it with the others, the county magistrate decided to have the gentry and merchants in the county contribute. Master Zhen surely would not make things difficult for me.”

Zhen Qian knew very well that An Lushan was not preparing to attack the Khitan at all, but was stockpiling provisions.

Over these past few years, grain prices in the three garrisons under An Lushan’s command had been rising steadily. In Luquan County, for example, grain in the tenth year of the Tianbao era cost seven or eight coins per peck; by the eleventh year it had risen to ten coins per peck. At the end of the year, An Lushan again hoarded supplies under the pretext of military operations. Now, with the season between old and new harvests upon them, prices were bound to climb again. By next year, they were likely to reach twelve coins per peck.

From seven or eight coins a peck to twelve, the price had nearly doubled. That was enough to bankrupt many a poor household.

If misfortune must come, it cannot be escaped. Luquan County certainly was not going to pay out of its own pocket. “How much is the Zhen household expected to contribute?”

Peng Le held up one finger and looked at Zhen Qian.

“One thousand stones....” Zhen Qian said helplessly.

“Master Zhen truly speaks with refreshing frankness. The magistrate has ordered Xiantai Village to raise one thousand stones of grain. Master Zhen may then distribute another one thousand stones among the households....” A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Peng Le’s lips. One thousand stones was no small sum; it amounted to roughly one-fifth of Xiantai Village’s former output. If Zhen Qian had to bear that burden alone, whether he was willing or not, it would pain him for a full year at least.

Zhen Qian felt as though he had swallowed a fly. This was obviously meant to make things difficult for him. Hadn’t Peng Le just said that Zhen Qian was a man of benevolence? He had called him a timely rain, a lord of generosity, and was only one step away from praising him as a youth devoted to helping others and embodying every virtue under heaven.

Seeing that Zhen Qian was lost in thought, Peng Le went on, “I know Master Zhen has a distillery at home. I’m afraid you may not be able to produce one thousand stones at once, but if you do not have grain, cash or cloth will do as well.”

Peng Le really had considered Zhen Qian’s position thoroughly. Zhen Qian truly did not wish to part with the grain he had on hand. “Since Sir Peng has thought so carefully for us, Wang You! Bring out thirteen golden bank coins from the accounts office!”

Soon Wang You came in carrying a tray. Upon it lay thirteen neatly arranged gold coins, bright and lustrous. The front and back of each coin were engraved with the bank’s seal, and the edges bore delicate sawtooth patterns to prevent forgery. Many people in Luquan County liked to use the gold and silver remittance notes issued by Zhen Qian’s bank.

In essence, a remittance note was nothing more than a transfer business. It did not itself enter circulation or perform the functions of currency, and thus was not true money in the strict sense.

Remittance notes had first appeared in the early years of Emperor Xianzong’s Yuanhe era. There were two forms. One was official: a merchant in the capital deposited money with the Office of Presenting Memorials, which had branches or agents in the capital for various commands, ministries, or circuits; then, carrying a voucher, the merchant could draw the money at an appointed place in another region. The other was private: large merchants maintained branches or trading ties in different circuits or major cities and operated convenient exchange services for profit. This method reduced the demand for copper cash and eased the shortage of coinage, while also sparing merchants the inconvenience of carrying vast sums of money when traveling to trade.

Zhen Qian’s remittance notes differed from those of other banks. He did not use paper as the medium. Instead, he forged gold and silver directly into the bank’s private coinage: one silver coin equaled one thousand cash, and one gold coin could be exchanged for eight silver coins. With gold and silver valued at eight to one in the Tang dynasty, they could be converted directly into copper cash at Zhen Qian’s bank. This was greatly favored by merchants, and some had even hastened to imitate it. Unfortunately, their forging techniques were inferior to Zhen Qian’s, making counterfeiting all the easier.

Some people even collected Zhen Qian’s gold and silver remittance coins as talismans against evil.

Such talisman coins were also called warding coins or suppressing coins. They were not circulating currency, but an old form of Han Chinese folk coin used as lucky charms or objects to avert evil, often worn by children as ornaments.

In their earliest sense, these talisman coins served mainly two purposes: to ward off malign influences and disasters, and to bring joy, blessings, and good fortune. Later, the scope broadened further. Coins were cast for opening a furnace, securing a treasury, giving gifts, bestowing favors, offering blessings, warding off calamity, divination, amusement, play, ornamentation, and the zodiac, among many other uses. As time went on, the range of applications became ever wider, and according to purpose they could be roughly divided into commemorative coins, warding coins, tokens of trust, ridge-raising coins, votive coins, gaming pieces, auspicious inscriptions, idiomatic sayings, and playful creations.

Zhen Qian’s own remittance notes were, in effect, a cautious brush with the edge of propriety. On the surface they circulated only within the bank, but in actual use they had already gone beyond the scope of simple exchange. That was where his true profits lay.

Very few people truly understood the value contained in gold and silver remittance notes. Because their issue and channels of circulation differed, ordinary people rarely encountered them in daily life, and naturally did not believe they posed any threat to ordinary coinage.

From any angle, gold and silver remittance notes were not bad money.

Throughout the Tang dynasty, private and illicit casting of coinage was severe, owing to historical causes, economic pressures, and resource shortages among many other factors.

At the dynasty’s founding, civil strife had not yet subsided and everything needed rebuilding. After Gaozu ascended the throne, he continued to use the Sui dynasty’s five-zhu coins. But since the late Sui, private counterfeit coins had flooded the market, causing extreme monetary disorder; people even “cut iron sheets, trimmed leather, and pasted paper to make money, mixing them together in use.” Thus, regulating the minting and circulation of currency, strictly forbidding private coinage, and rebuilding a monetary system suited to the social and economic development of the age became one of the Tang court’s first crucial tasks. In the fourth year of the Wude era, the Tang court abolished the five-zhu coin and issued the Kaiyuan Tongbao coin. Critics said the new coin’s weight and size struck the best balance and was convenient for both near and far, thereby reversing the chaos that had plagued currency circulation since the end of the Sui. Coinage throughout the realm achieved an unprecedented unity.

But the period of monetary stability did not last long. Soon “private casting gradually arose again, and wherever money was used, it became vulgar and counterfeit.” Thereafter, the tide of illicit minting only rose higher with each passing reign, becoming one of the Tang court’s most vexing problems.

If one were to ask what made the most money in a feudal society, aside from monstrous corruption, there was only the minting of coinage, with its returns of a hundredfold for every ounce invested. Yet those high-and-mighty officials who looked down their noses at the world would not stoop to the stench of copper and profit, nor would they settle down to study the laws governing economic activity. It was rare indeed for a Lu Zhi to appear, a man who understood economics and declared that “wealth comes into being only through human labor,” only to be dismissed from office in the end.

As for currency units in the Tang dynasty, there were strings, bundles, and taels. A bundle meant a cord of cash coins; a thousand coins was called a string or a bundle. One string equaled one thousand coins, and one tael of silver did not equal one string. In the early Tang, one tael of silver was worth a little over one thousand two hundred coins; in the middle Tang, the exchange rate was roughly between one thousand five hundred and one thousand eight hundred coins.

By the way, the Kaiyuan Tongbao often mentioned in later ages was not actually the copper coin minted during Emperor Xuanzong’s Kaiyuan era. Kaiyuan was the name of the coinage cast when Emperor Gaozu unified the monetary system, meaning “founding the realm.” Emperor Xuanzong, however, felt it possessed the aura of the opening of heaven and earth, and so adopted it.