After seeing off Kong Tie and Chen Wang, Shao Shuyi stood in the courtyard, feeling slightly adrift. He sat down to quietly contemplate the future.
He employed the simplest method of situational assessment: a SWOT analysis—integrating the external environment, the internal environment, his own strengths and weaknesses, as well as potential opportunities and threats.
Information regarding the external environment was scarce, making it difficult to judge. However, based on current observations, there were more and more Zhelan checkpoints—impoundment barriers—appearing around Taicang and Liu Family Port. He had heard that the north was suffering from either natural disasters or plagues, and there were even small-scale military conflicts. This was causing the common people of the Henan Provincial Secretariat to flee south in droves to seek survival.
The character lan implied blocking. When goods were lost on the road, officials blocked the way to "guard" them, supposedly waiting for the owner to arrive and claim them; otherwise, the authorities confiscated them. This was called Zhelan. If goods were treated this way, were people treated any differently?
From this, he concluded that the external environment was continuously deteriorating, though the full impact had not yet transmitted to the Jiangnan region.
As for the internal environment, it was an equal mess. The maritime ship households were becoming visibly poorer by the day.
First, the increase in freight money could not keep up with the speed of inflation. Additionally, in the past, when maritime ship households transported grain, the Transport Office would issue grain to their families as part of their income. Now, this portion had been cut—it was gone.
The "miscellaneous corvée duties" for maritime ship households had been halted once, reinstated, halted again, and reinstated yet again. It was an endless seesaw.
By now, there was a high probability that these miscellaneous duties would not be stopped. Even though the Jiangnan Provincial Secretariat had repeatedly submitted memorials petitioning for compassion toward the hardships of the maritime ship households and requesting exemption, the Imperial Court refused to grant permission. Left with no choice, the Provincial Secretariat and the Transport Office could only devise their own workarounds, allowing the maritime ship households to be de facto exempt from serving—the duties weren't officially stopped; someone else was simply bearing the burden in their stead.
The direct consequence of the deteriorating financial situation was that more and more people were fleeing. Yet, the grain transport mission remained constant. In the end, the burden could only be pressed onto the heads of those who stayed, slowly driving them into bankruptcy as well.Having clarified these two points, Shao Shuyi couldn't help but curse under his breath. "Son of a bitch."
He had been in this world for over a month and had lost hope of returning to his original timeline. From a pragmatic perspective, he needed to consider how to survive right here, right now. However, after analyzing the internal and external environments, he suddenly felt his vision go dark; it was incredibly difficult.
Sighing twice, Shao Shuyi forced himself to cheer up and continued thinking.
What were his strengths?
Naturally, it was his familiarity with the broad strokes of history. Although the details weren't very clear, it was still an advantage.
He knew calligraphy. He had copied Zhao Mengfu's rubbings for many years and achieved a high level of proficiency. In this era, that counted as being half a scholar.
Aside from that, there was the knowledge and common sense refined by humanity over thousands of years. The greatest difficulty was that there might not be a stage to display this knowledge, or perhaps the conditions were not met, but it was indeed a potential advantage.
It seemed—that was about it for strengths.
His weaknesses were obvious: he could not integrate well into the current society. Furthermore, his original family was poor, his status was low, and it was not easy to jump social classes or improve his standard of living.
As for opportunities...
It was too damn hard. Sometimes, when an opportunity appeared, one might not even be able to grasp it.
Threats? Too many.
War, the government, sailing, disease, hunger, and even competition among the bottom-rung people were all enough to pose a major threat—even a mortal one. The most realistic threat right in front of him was the need to pay forty-five strings of tax before the end of the month.
It was hard, truly hard.
But what could he say? Even if difficulties abounded and hope was slim, he still had to strive to change things. Otherwise, he was just waiting to die, and that did not fit his proactive personality.
After thinking this through, he had a general idea. He needed to seize the window before the internal and external environments deteriorated drastically. He had to avoid risks, look for opportunities, utilize his strengths to cover his weaknesses, grasp those rare chances, and change his situation from the root.
Thinking of this, Shao Shuyi let out a long breath, stood up, dusted off his backside, took the remaining five strings of notes, grabbed a sack, and prepared to go out.
…
The Lou River was the drainage avenue for Lake Tai, "deepening without dredging," cutting through the southern territory of Taicang and flowing into the sea. Simply put, this was a thoroughfare connecting the sea to the economic hinterland of the Lake Tai basin.
The river surface was wide and the water deep, so the Sea Transport Granary was established by the riverbank. The so-called "South Wharf" of Liu Family Port was also located here—this was the South Wharf in the narrow sense. Broadly speaking, the South Wharf encompassed the entire thirty li of waterway from the Liu River Estuary (where the Lou River enters the Yangtze, near the sea), where Liu Family Port was located, all the way to Zhangjing, where the Sea Transport Granary was situated.
There were dikes along the river. On the thirty-li-long dike, "famous towers lined the markets" and "foreign merchants felt at home." All kinds of commodities from home and abroad gathered here; it was extremely prosperous.
Shao Shuyi walked slowly, observing carefully.
At a glance, there were quite a few rich people in Taicang. One could even say there was a vast number of them—this realization hurt him deeply.
In terms of clothing, silk and satin could be seen everywhere. However, the styles were unique, resembling a Han-cized Mongol attire that mixed Mongol and Central Plains characteristics.
As conquerors, the Mongols had requirements for Han clothing—unlike the Manchus, who demanded shaving heads and changing clothes, the Mongols stipulated that Southern Chinese were not allowed to wear Mongol attire. But after the Mongols had ruled the world for several decades, some influence was inevitable. For example, many men wore the Mongol noble attire, the jisun robe, while women often wore the bijia vest.
Along the way, Shao Shuyi saw cross-collared, two-piece Mongol-style Han clothes everywhere, with colors mainly in blue, green, and white. As for hats, the vast majority of men in the market wore Cymbal Hats, while a minority wore Ridged Hats. They swaggered through the market, looking very incongruous—this was not quite the same as the ancient clothing seen in period dramas.
"Master, would you like some tea?" A warm greeting came from ahead.
Shao Shuyi looked up, only to discover they weren't calling him, but a certain monk standing a few steps away.
"Fried tea. Is it ready?" The monk waved his hand and asked.
"Master, you jest. The churn beat Masege oil all night last night; it's very fresh," the shopkeeper said with a face full of smiles. "Fresh tea buds from Palace Commander Fan have arrived from Qingyuan. Shall we fry them up together?"
"Very good." The monk, jowly and big-eared, walked straight into the tea house.
The shopkeeper's gaze swept over Shao Shuyi and immediately retracted; he didn't even want to offer a greeting.
When Shao Shuyi passed the tea house, he turned his head to look inside. He saw about a dozen tables, almost every one occupied. The guests were not only drinking tea but also had various pastries and fruits. While eating and drinking, they talked and laughed, looking extremely cheerful.
Sure enough, people were different.
Even a monk could be fed until he was bursting, drinking fried tea—Masege oil (butter), milk, and tea fried together in an iron pot—while Shao couldn't even afford vegetable gruel for much longer.
He could only look at the dazzling array of goods on the street; he had no spare money to buy them. The gap was truly too large.
"Iron-strength cloth, Kudzu cloth, Plantain cloth, Bamboo-silk cloth, Kapok cloth, Local hemp cloth..." A strenuous shouting rang out from ahead again.
In the bustling crowd, a man stood before a door, his face red and neck thick, gesturing wildly, not letting go of any potential customer. Behind him, several rooms were lined up, filled with various fabrics. The colors were so brilliant and the patterns so numerous that it was dazzling.
"Young Master Zhou, the red silk you asked me to keep an eye out for is here." Perhaps seeing an acquaintance, the shopkeeper walked straight over and greeted him warmly.
“Young Master” (She) had served as a form of address for sons of wealthy or respectable families since at least the Song and Yuan dynasties. Generally, one did not use it alone, but combined with a surname or an indicator of birth order, such as “Young Master Zhang,” “Young Master Wang,” “First Young Master,” or “Second Young Master.”
Upon hearing this, "Young Master Zhou" stopped and laughed, "That fast? What is the price?"
"Twenty-four strings of Zhongtong notes."
Young Master Zhou pondered for a moment and said, "Fine. Take two bolts and send them directly to Dame Wang's house up ahead. Just say it is a thank-you gift from me."
After speaking, he fished out an ingot of notes from his chest and said, "Keep the change."
"Alright!" The shopkeeper responded joyfully.
Shao Shuyi drifted past the two of them like air.
He wore old linen clothes covered in patches and carried a sack on his back. Although he wasn't short, his face was sallow. He was clearly not a rich man, just like the thousands of ordinary maritime ship households inside and outside Taicang city.
Someone like him was inconspicuous when thrown into a crowd, with nothing worthy of special attention.
After walking a bit further, a large compound occupying a vast area appeared ahead.
The front of the courtyard gate was crowded with people. If not for the soldiers and runners maintaining order, they would have swarmed in long ago, packing the compound until not even water could trickle through.
This was the Ever-Normal Charitable Granary, one of the few benevolent policies of the Great Yuan Dynasty, worthy of being called a price stabilizer. It was just that it was becoming increasingly shaky; who knew if it would be unable to sustain itself one day?
Creak... The courtyard gate was opened from the inside.
The commoners, who had long been waiting impatiently, squeezed and shoved one another, rushing in as if fighting for their lives to snatch the grain they relied on for survival.