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Power is rather like real estate: what determines the magnitude of power is not the sheer size of the area one occupies, but the specific location where one stands. The walls of Pingyang City were now gradually turning a shade of crimson, as though presaging something.
The technology for firing bricks had already reached a highly mature stage during the Qin dynasty—hence the saying, "Qin bricks and Han tiles." Yet, in truth, very few people used red bricks, because in the minds of people during the Han dynasty, red bricks were, in fact... waste products.
Why were grey bricks—or rather, Qin bricks—grey? Because they were of superior quality. That was why they were grey. If they could have fired bricks that came out black, the people of the Qin dynasty would probably have liked that even more. The process for firing red bricks and firing grey bricks is exactly the same in the early stages. It is only at the later stage that grey bricks require a slow dousing with water to lower the temperature of the kiln, reducing the high-valence iron oxide within the bricks to a lower-valence iron oxide, which causes the color to turn grey. Of course, within this complex process, if errors occurred in the water dousing, or if the reduction was incomplete, red bricks would result.
But to Fei Qian, none of this was of any consequence. He was repairing the city walls of Pingyang; he did not intend for them to endure for a thousand ages. What did it matter if there were slight differences between grey bricks and red bricks? Red bricks saved on labor. The artisans firing the bricks did not need to keep constant watch, nor did they need to control the water dousing at all times.
They simply fired the kiln directly, and when the time was up, ventilated it to let it cool by air—no need to manage anything at all. Once cooling was complete, they were transported. In this way, efficiency instantly soared, and there were no issues of waste or defective goods. It was simple, it saved trouble, and while reducing the physical risk to the kiln-firing artisans, it also allowed for large-scale production. Why not happily go along with it? It was also, after all, a small bit of mischievous amusement for Fei Qian. The land of the ancestors, a single expanse of red...
In truth, was there really any difference between red bricks and grey bricks? Red bricks involved even less technical refinement. Red bricks could also be mixed with some impurities; they did not need to consist entirely of pure clay, so the manufacturing conditions were suddenly relaxed enormously. What was laughable, however, was that the brick-firing artisans initially refused to fire red bricks at all. They openly defied the order and showed no respect! They declared it would smash the signboard of their reputation, that people would laugh at them for not understanding the rules, for being unqualified journeymen who had never fully learned the craft, for possessing inferior skill. Therefore, they would rather lose their heads than destroy their reputations!
Later, a compromise was reached. For Pingyang City, where the quantity needed was large, they would fire red bricks. For the academy up on Peach Mountain, where the quantity was smaller, they would fire grey bricks. This would serve to prove that these artisans were truly brick experts who knew their trade. Only then was everyone satisfied. As a result, reportedly, these brick experts are now all intensely focused on the kilns firing the grey bricks, straining every sinew to produce a few kilns of fine grey bricks in order to vindicate their name. As for the ordinary kilns firing red bricks, those were all tossed to their apprentices.
But to Fei Qian, it made no difference. The good bricks went to build the city wall; the inferior ones were not wasted either—they were used to construct brick houses within Pingyang City. Every material was put to its best use. Just like those local magnates in the Hedong region from whom Cui Hou had borrowed vast quantities of goods and materials—they, too, must be put to their best use.
The territories now under Fei Qian's control had been completely placed under military administration. Pingyang and Beiqu went without saying. Yong'an, too, had already been played to ruin by the White Wave bandits and was practically a blank slate. The only place relatively unaffected was the county seat of Puzi, but a single county town, located in a peripheral region, was itself rather poor in resources. Thus, the comprehensive control of goods and supplies, with the implementation of a military distribution system, initially drew some complaints. But very quickly, these very same people became staunch supporters of the military administration system.
In Chang'an, malignant inflation had erupted, followed by the large-scale minting of debased, clipped coins. The speed with which this bad money drove out good money spread was alarmingly swift—as if someone behind the scenes was not only failing to control it, but was deliberately and continuously fueling the flames. Yet for Fei Qian, this matter was truly a good thing.
Previously, he had arranged for Huang Xu and Huang Xianliang to lead a group of grassroots officers in rudimentary study of writing and arithmetic. Now, that training was being put to use. Essentially all goods and supplies were controlled within Fei Qian's military camps. Those who caught wind of the situation and came hoping to gain some advantage only discovered upon reaching Pingyang that not only Pingyang, but even Yong'an, Puzi, and Beiqu had all entered a state of military administration. Trade had entered a stage of barter—goods for goods. All copper coins, including Wuzhu coins, had been completely taken out of circulation.
The principle that bad money drives out good money is founded upon information asymmetry. Only by keeping the recipient of the bad money in the dark about its true value can a successful transaction be carried out. Once the other party learns what the actual value of that debased currency is, would anyone still be willing to accept it? It is just like counterfeit bills in later ages: only when the person being deceived believes them to be genuine will they accept them.
Otherwise, which ordinary commoner would willingly receive a fake bill? Barter, of course, is the most severe blow to commerce and trade. But at this moment, there was temporarily no better solution. At the very least, adjustments would have to wait until after the autumn harvest, when grain and fodder prices had stabilized somewhat. Now was not yet the time.
Du Yuan came stomping in, as if a fire were lit under his backside. He sat down in the hall and only then let out a long breath. "My lord, these people from Hedong and Henei keep hanging around here, gathering in front of the government office every day with long, miserable faces—this is hardly a trivial matter!" Every time he passed through, the eyes of those people were like those of pitiful little puppies, staring fixedly, brimming with entreaty, making the little heart of Du Yuan, now the grand supervisor of logistics, somewhat unable to bear it.
"Ha ha ha, no hurry, no hurry," Fei Qian said with a laugh. "Wenzheng, do not be deceived by the outward appearance of these people. These fellows... they are only pained at heart over their wealth. They are still a far cry from truly having their families destroyed." By the time of Emperor Ling in the Han dynasty, these local gentry clans had already constructed a great many fortified manors, within which they had hoarded more grain and supplies than they could ever consume, along with vast sums of wealth.
Now, all that had happened was that their stored grain had been siphoned off by a ruse of Fei Qian's, and the greater part of their clan's wealth now seemed, before their very eyes, to have become a pile of useless scrap copper. This sour, exhilarating agony... this heart-wrenching flavor of pain... But they were still a far cry from not even being able to put food on the table, or from being driven to family ruin by this bout of inflation. Given the current circumstances, they could still bear it. It was just that the coming consecutive years of unending natural disasters—alternating between drought and flood—coupled with the pestilences triggered by the flames of war, would ultimately and utterly destroy the manorial economies of these gentry clans and rural magnates.
"Wenzheng, tell me," Fei Qian said, "I've been keeping them out in the cold here for so many days now—how is it that no one has yet stepped forward to take the lead and stir up some trouble for us?"
Du Yuan did not stand on ceremony. He reached for the water pitcher beside him, poured himself a bowl, gulped it down, and only then spoke: "All along the road, the scenes were so gruesomely appalling that their courage was shattered. Who would dare to make a reckless move?" Those execution grounds set up along the official highway—even he himself was too terrified to go look. By now, practically everyone in the Hedong region knew that Fei Qian's methods were fierce, brutal, and vicious, disciplining even the Hu people until they trembled with fear and submitted obediently. Who would dare lightly stir the earth atop the head of such a demon king?
"This..." Fei Qian scratched his head. He had originally thought that if someone dared to leap out, he could seize a few of the smaller fry, make an example of them, and conveniently scoop up a little more in the process. Now, it seemed that plan might be unworkable?
*****
A/N: The Demon King Fei goes forth... The northern lands are known for their fierce and tough folk... But, speaking of which, how is it that generally, kindhearted people, wherever they go, are mostly the ones who get bullied? Do people not like kindness? This question is worth deep contemplation...