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But ultimately, people cannot be pushed to the absolute brink. No matter what, they must be given some shred of hope. If even hope is extinguished, some unforeseen catastrophe will inevitably erupt. It is just that, at times, certain individuals, the moment they spy a pole, always think of rubbing against it, to see if they might climb a little higher—given the faintest ray of sunshine, they itch to burst into brilliant bloom.
The main hall of the Pingyang county government office was so packed with people that there was not even room to set out individual desks. They could only lay out sitting mats, and even assigning one mat per person proved impossible—there simply wasn't space. Crammed together, two to a mat, they filled the hall to the brim.
An elderly man rose, trembling, to his feet. His voice quavered with grief, and aged tears streamed down his face. "...This decrepit old man has clung to a worthless existence for sixty-seven years, and never before have I encountered such a calamitous affair! My ancestors spared no toil, tending their native mulberries and catalpas, personally laboring at the plow and the scythe.
The women tending silkworms rose while it was still night; the farmers slept out in the wilds—diligent, painstaking, to the very end of the year hoping for what? To store up a meager supply of grain... And now, and now—disaster has suddenly descended! Wicked coinage runs rampant! Commodity prices boil and froth! The people find no means to live! Our family patrimonies, destroyed in the span of a single dawn and dusk—how agonizing! How agonizing! Alas! When this old man descends to the Nine Springs below, with what face shall I look upon my ancestors?!"
Having finished, he covered his face with both hands and actually broke into grievous sobs. The old man's speech instantly struck a deep, aching chord among the crowd gathered in the hall. For a moment, voices chimed in agreement, sighs filled the air, and sorrowful weeping broke out. Suddenly, the entire assembly dissolved into a chaos of misery, lamentation, and distress.
Du Yuan looked at Fei Qian. This situation was something he had utterly failed to anticipate, and the one leading the charge was an old man—he did not even know how to begin to remonstrate. For an instant, he was utterly at a loss. Fei Qian, his face a mask of solemnity, slowly rose to his feet. Suddenly, he raised his sleeve to conceal his face and spoke in a choked voice: "The words of these village elders... I, Fei Qian, feel them as deeply as if they were my own. My grief is beyond expression; I cannot contain myself. Permit me to withdraw for a moment... Wenzheng..."
"Here," Du Yuan answered, bowing.
Fei Qian, his face still hidden behind his sleeve and emitting mournful sounds, strode swiftly toward the rear hall, saying as he went, "...Prepare plenty of tea for them. See that no discourtesy is shown..." And then he vanished behind the screen, retreating into the back hall.
The old man, with tears still glistening on his cheeks, was instantly thrown into utter disarray. His mouth hung open, he was at a loss for words, and he stretched out one trembling hand as though seeking to detain Fei Qian, utterly uncertain whether he should continue standing or sit down.
Du Yuan, his wits quick, immediately raised his voice and summoned attendants, instructing them to prepare tea for everyone in the hall. Then, with a cupped-hands salute and the excuse of going to calm Fei Qian, he too retreated into the rear hall—only to find Fei Qian there, hands clasped behind his back, strolling leisurely with measured steps in the back courtyard. Where was the slightest trace of grief?
Du Yuan approached Fei Qian and cupped his hands. Fei Qian said, unhurriedly, "In matters like this, it is not we who should be anxious, so there is no need to follow their tempo or be led by the nose by them. Assign someone to keep an eye on things. When the moment comes that they all stop talking, then you may go back in. If anyone is still wailing and carrying on, you come out."
Du Yuan lacked experience, but Fei Qian had it in abundance. Matters of this sort, Fei Qian had encountered far too often in the later ages. The uncles and aunties of a certain age were invariably the main force—impossible to touch, impossible to lecture. If one were to follow the rhythm of such elder uncles and aunties, the discussion would be dragged off to the farthest ends of the heavens, and not even an immortal could haul it back.
Thus, the only recourse was to apply a cold treatment. Let everyone cool down a bit, clearly distinguish the primary from the secondary, and understand that only by ceasing the tears and tantrums could the problem be better solved. Only then could they sit down and talk. Still, those who would repeatedly weep, wail, and throw fits were not present here; after all, these were men who could speak with some authority within their clans, and they possessed at least a modicum of reason. Seeing their hand of emotional appeal transformed into a worthless card, they all reined themselves in considerably. Not long after, silence fell. No one spoke; all merely waited quietly within the hall.
Fei Qian slowly walked back in and seated himself at the center of the hall. His gaze swept left and right. Slowly, he spoke: "A heart of sorrow—every person has one. But can a breast surging with emotion fill a granary? Can it purge the evil from coinage? Can it avert disaster?" The crowd was hushed, wordless. Fei Qian waited a moment longer. Seeing that no one spoke, he gestured toward the old man who had led the tearful plaint and said, "Venerable elder, may I ask what commandery your lineage hails from?"
"This old man is of the Sun clan of Wenxi," the elder replied.
Fei Qian nodded, then posed the same question to several others in succession. Finally, he asked, "Is there anyone here of Pingyang origin?" As if there possibly could be. The assembly responded with silence. Fei Qian allowed a faint smile to surface and said, "All of you esteemed gentlemen are from the Hedong region, and not under the jurisdiction of Pingyang. Why, then, have you come seeking me? You ought to seek Lord Wang of Hedong instead!" With that, he made as if to see his guests out.
A sudden uproar ensued. One man, driven by desperation, blurted out, "His Excellency Wang has shut his gates and pleads illness—how can anyone gain an audience with him?!" So, because you cannot see Wang Yi, you have come looking for me, is that it?
Fei Qian smiled and said nothing. The crowd below in the hall all felt, in their hearts, as though they had been chewing on a lump of filth. They knew perfectly well that the current situation was, in large part, Fei Qian's doing, yet they were utterly powerless. Even the greatest clan in Hedong had returned with its plumes broken; what could small fry and tiny shrimp like them possibly do? Gradually, the crowd quieted. The Sun clan elder who had spoken first bowed deeply from the waist and said, "At this moment, we have all come to the end of the road. We earnestly beseech the General of the Household to point us toward a path!"
Fei Qian unhurriedly began listing points, ticking them off one by one on his fingers: "You are not under my governance, nor are you my people—this is the first point. At the outset of your trading, all was done willingly—this is the second. The evil coinage runs amok, but it was not I who minted it—this is the third. Beyond these, could it be that you believe that with the strength of one man alone, I could put an end to this evil currency and stabilize commodity prices?"
Fei Qian spoke with stark practicality and perfect reasonableness. Whether in ancient times or modern, whoever grasped firsthand information first gained the advantage and seized the profit. The assembled men looked at one another, their faces etched with utter dejection. Fei Qian's every word was correct; they could find no grounds even to refute him.
Were it not for this sudden, vile business of the debased currency erupting out of Yongzhou, most of these people would still be gleefully waiting to count their money. Now, although they faintly suspected that Fei Qian might have exploited this evil coinage to reap a windfall, where was the proof? Could anyone have known a month ago that Dong Zhuo was about to mint debased coins? What evidence was there? Who would even believe it?
The Sun clan elder, trembling, stepped forward, prostrated himself, and declared, "If the General of the Household is willing to extend a helping hand, from this day forward, whatever command you may give, the Sun clan of Wenxi shall absolutely not refuse!" The others, as if awakened, hastily prostrated themselves in unison, all echoing the same vow. Fei Qian hurried forward to help the Sun elder to his feet and gestured for the others to rise as well.
He then fell into a lengthy, contemplative silence before finally uttering a single sentence: "One should set one's sights upon the broader landscape. It has been roughly a month since the debased coinage spread from the capital region to this place. I wonder how many more days it will take to reach Ji and Yu provinces?"
This was a matter of vision. The people in this hall had, for the most part, spent their entire lives within the confines of their own manors. Were it not for the impact of this debased currency, some of them might never have ventured far from home, rushing east and west to seek out Wang Yi, to seek out Fei Qian—let alone set their sights on matters encompassing the entire realm.
And if any of them truly possessed such vision, they would not be here right now; they would likely already be on the road to Ji or Yu. Fei Qian, without the least concern for whether they had understood him or not, said with a beaming smile, "In Pingyang, a hundred industries await revival, and every sort of good and material is urgently needed. If any of you esteemed gentlemen possess surplus goods, you are most welcome to come here and exchange what you have for what you need... Wenzheng, entertain these village elders well. I still have official duties to attend to and cannot remain in your company."
This sort of excellent affair was, of course, far more interesting when everyone participated together. Moreover, knowing the ingrained nature of these people, they would certainly never be content merely to cut their losses. They would, without doubt, leave no stone unturned in seizing the benefits of other regions that had yet to be affected by the evil currency. Before the main feast begins, let us first have a bowl of the first broth.