“Should we call you Young Master Wan or Wan the Big-Mouth? You ranted for half the day, and not a single useful word came out of it.”
Lin Ming shook his head directly.
“Have you ever been to Jiangnan? Have you ever carried out the ‘Switch Rice Fields for Mulberry’ policy? Does your family have anyone handling that task?”
“Since ancient times, true understanding comes from practice. You haven’t even been there, yet you speak as if you know it all. That’s misleading the people!”
His words were so shocking that the crowd gasped.
Everyone glanced around. As far as they knew, Lin Ming hadn’t been to Jiangnan either.
Besides, back then the Lin family knew the policy was a hot potato and never got involved at all.
Wan Canglong’s face twitched with anger. Lin Ming had slapped his face again.
“Duke Commander, you talk like you know everything about Jiangnan and this policy. Then tell us, why did the ‘Switch Rice for Mulberry’ policy fail?”
Lin Ming glanced at him.
“Corrupt or honest officials weren’t the key issue.”
“The real issue lies in economic concepts.”
Economic concepts?
What a fresh term…
Hearing this phrase, Ye Qinghuan paused and quietly leaned closer to the door seam, wanting to hear more clearly.
Lin Ming said solemnly, “Switching rice fields for mulberry—on paper, it benefits both nation and people. The government gains more revenue, and the people earn more silver.”
“But was that the reality? Ours is a smallholder economy. Farmers grow crops for self-sufficiency, not for trade. To them, silver isn’t that important. In fact, many still rely on bartering.”
“You make them grow mulberry trees—which can’t be eaten—so what good does that do for them?”
“I disagree with Young Master Lin’s view,” Xie Lingyun frowned. “Even if the people are ignorant, local officials can still purchase their silk and patiently educate them, no?”
Wan Canglong took the chance to echo, “Lin Ming, do you think the Great Duan Empire doesn’t know how to govern? The government isn’t useless! There’s also the Jiangnan Weaving Bureau. They could organize the people to produce raw silk, send it to official workshops—problem solved!”
Lin Ming narrowed his eyes and asked, “If people can be educated, then where does their food come from? The government will provide it?”
“Of course! They can buy grain from other provinces!” Wan Canglong sneered. “They sell raw silk to the state, get silver, then buy grain. Easy!”
Lin Ming chuckled. “Then allow me to ask two questions. First, how much more expensive is imported grain compared to local grain?”
“Second, does the government actually have the capability to organize mass agricultural production?”
The two were instantly speechless.
Wan Canglong protested, “We’re court officials, not local administrators. How would we know that?”
“Then let me tell you,” Lin Ming said. “Generally, imported grain costs twice the local price. In reality? It’s five times or more!”
Even Ye Qinghuan next door trembled slightly, stunned.
“Five times? How is that possible?”
Back then, the Ministry of Revenue, the Transport Ministry, and the Finance Commissioner had all submitted completely different data.
Lin Ming didn’t hold back. He poured out all the historical and economic knowledge he’d learned from his modern-day studies.
“Grain has a short shelf life. Transport incurs losses, and weather is a major factor. Most importantly, grain trade is monopolized by big merchants—not small vendors.”
“Large merchants operate in organized trade groups. Only they can handle long-distance logistics. Their profit margins are outrageous! What I just said was during a good harvest. In years of famine, the price difference is more than tenfold!”
He explained with complete confidence.
Small vendors chase petty profits. But these trade groups—merchant guilds—operate with strict internal systems and massive appetite.
If they learned Jiangnan was short on grain, wouldn’t they jack up the prices as much as they could?
Hearing this, Ye Qinghuan fell into deep thought.
Lin Ming’s words struck her hard.
Before this, she had never considered things like grain prices, long-distance trade, or the influence of merchant guilds.
“And the second issue is the local government’s ability to organize production,” Lin Ming continued.
“There’s a saying: ‘Imperial power does not extend below the county level.’”
“Below the county level, government control is extremely limited. To manage villages, the state must rely on local powerful families.”
“And those families are usually the big landlords—the ones who exploit farmers the most. When farmers grow mulberry and produce silk, they’re lucky to keep even ten percent. The other ninety? Taken by landlords.”
Hearing this, Nangong couldn’t help but ask, “Can’t the government intervene? Isn’t there any justice left if the people are squeezed like this?”
Lin Ming smiled bitterly. “The government turns a blind eye. The landlords give the officials their cut. As for the people? They get a 30-70 split—70 percent for landlords, 30 percent for officials. And that 30 depends entirely on whether they’re in a good mood.”
“Why? Because the government has no choice but to cooperate with them.”
Clang!
On the other side—
Empress Ye Qinghuan’s delicate fingers trembled uncontrollably, tapping the table.
“Imperial power does not extend below the county level.”
“Seventy-thirty split.”
“Local elites.”
Ever since she ascended the throne, she had worked tirelessly to rejuvenate the empire.
Yet she had never once focused on the rural grassroots.
“If all under Heaven are guilty, the guilt lies with me alone…”
Ye Qinghuan looked up at the ceiling, filled with deep regret. Find the original chapter at g.com.
Li Qiushui panicked.
“Your Majesty, don’t listen to Lin Ming’s nonsense! I think he’s just making it all up. How could the Great Duan Empire, rising so gloriously, have such a dark underbelly?”
“Besides, how could someone like him—raised in Chang’an—understand rural Jiangnan and our empire’s village systems? He’s just making stuff up! Please, trust your judgment!”
Ye Qinghuan waved her hand and said, “No. I don’t know how he knows all this, but I’m sure—this is no nonsense!”
“That’s enough. It’s getting late. I’ll take my leave now. Everyone, rest early,” Lin Ming said, exhausted from all the talking.
He picked up a cup, took a long drink, and turned to leave.
After everything he had said, the Empress next door hadn’t reacted at all.
Was she not angry from being thoroughly embarrassed? Or maybe she was too angry to respond?
Either way, if there was no benefit to be had, then retreat—that was Lin Ming’s lifelong motto.
“May I ask, Duke Commander, you’ve talked at great length. But do you have a solution?”
Wan Canglong, bitter and vengeful, took the chance to sneer, “Or are you just making empty speeches like me?”
After all that talk, he hadn’t proposed a single plan.
Lin Ming smiled. “Of course I have solutions. But if I tell you, I doubt you’d understand. This stuff isn’t as simple as quoting poems or Confucian sayings.”
Many problems were invisible to those within, but obvious to outsiders. As someone from the modern era, he had long understood the core issues of agricultural empires.
The Duan Empire might not be the same as a feudal dynasty from his world, but as long as it was a farming civilization, it couldn’t escape the developmental cycle of agrarian societies.
Wan Canglong slammed the table in anger. “Lin Ming! Who the hell do you think you’re insulting? Are you mocking all scholars?”
Lin Ming looked back and raised his brow. “Did I just hear you call me by my full name again?”
Wan Canglong instantly shrank back, stumbled, and fell to the floor.
“I didn’t! I didn’t, Duke Commander! You must’ve misheard!”
“Then may I leave?”
“Of course! Please, take your time!” He forced a fawning smile, bowing repeatedly like a cowardly turtle.
Seeing this, Lin Ming smirked and turned to leave.
But just then, from the next private room, the carved pearwood door was suddenly pushed open—
“Duke Commander, stay!”
Ye Qinghuan stood there with hands clasped behind her back. Her long black hair fluttered in the wind, and her phoenix eyes narrowed with imperial might radiating from her entire being.
She stepped out slowly, her voice ringing clearly.
“I want to hear… your solution.”