Chapter 12

The Mongolians were directly handed over to the border guards, who scolded them harshly in Mongolian. Zhang Han couldn't understand a word, but Liang Hong listened with a nod and a shake of his head, eventually bursting into laughter.

"This border guard is quite amusing," Liang Hong explained to Zhang Han. "He said you fools should be more careful next time and not get caught by the Ming army again."

As he spoke, the smugglers were stripped of their pants, and the soldiers began to beat them with military sticks.

The sound of the sticks hitting flesh was followed by cries and pleas for mercy. After all, they were merchants, and the other merchants present looked rather uncomfortable, clearly dissatisfied with Lai Tongxin's handling of the situation.

After twenty strokes, each person was bloodied and bruised, but it wasn't over yet. The soldiers set up the standing cages, pushing each person inside, securing their hands, and leaving only their heads and necks exposed. Their feet didn't touch the bottom, so they had to stand on tiptoe. If they fell asleep or lost focus, their necks and heads would be squeezed, making it hard to breathe.

"Three days in the cage?"

Zhang Han was shocked. The beating was already hard to accept, but the physical torture he saw on TV seemed almost comical. In reality, it was brutal. After twenty strokes, many had bloody and mangled buttocks, standing with great difficulty and in intense pain. The Han merchants, who were hardworking and poor, had grown up in an era where survival was a daily struggle. If the pain wasn't unbearable, they wouldn't have cried out so shamelessly. After the beating, they were caged, and seeing the pain on their faces as they were locked in the standing cages, Zhang Han felt everything before him was distorted.

"Sigh, what's wrong with Captain Lai this time?" Zhou Fengji was also very dissatisfied. "In the past, he would just beat them and maybe cage them for a day or two. Using the standing cages will likely kill most of them; if three or five survive, it would be a miracle."

Liang Hong said, "This isn't a simple matter; there must be something fishy going on."

The merchants from other shops were also discussing the severity of the punishment, which was completely different from the usual, causing a significant psychological impact.

Zhang Han was deeply shocked. Since his arrival, he had come to realize that the world before him was vastly different from his past, more brutal and bloody. A border guard captain, who might not even have a place in Ming history and was considered insignificant by local officials, dared to cage and kill over a dozen merchants. From the reactions of those around him, there was only mild dissatisfaction, and no one had any thoughts of rebellion. It seemed that for Captain Lai, caging and killing these people was just a matter of a moment's decision, with no serious consequences.

Zhang Han's sense of morality was once again challenged...

In comparison, the methods he used in the future to bribe officials were completely useless here.

Is it possible for ants to trade with elephants?

No wonder the Shanxi merchants spent a hundred years cultivating their own officials, and many families spared no effort to have their intelligent children study and take exams. Zhang Han had not fully understood this before, but now it made sense. The Shanxi and Huizhou merchants were wise to integrate with the gentry class.

The more money the merchant class earned without intersecting with the gentry class, the more dangerous it became!

In such a country and society, the so-called sprouts of capitalism were a joke... Capital could not be independent, and an independent bourgeoisie could not form. What sprouts were they talking about?

"I understand, I can adapt, and I can change..."

Zhang Han's face remained calm, but deep down, he was undergoing a profound transformation.

Only at this moment did he truly feel that he had traveled back to the end of the forty-fifth year of the Wanli era in the Ming dynasty.

The standing cages were pushed away, and the sound of a gong signaled the start of the trade.

The discontent on people's faces gradually faded. After all, they were legitimate merchants, not smugglers, and they would only sympathize moderately without letting it affect their business.

A large group of Mongolians arrived, but they didn't brandish their sabers and spears. Instead, they brought their local specialties.

Horses, cattle, sheep, mules, various furs, and other goods. The Mongolians' specialties, like their people, were rough and direct.

The official market and the small market were different. In the official market, the Ming side mainly paid in silver, with grain, cloth, and iron pots as secondary items, in exchange for Mongolian warhorses.

Twelve taels for a top horse, ten taels for a middle horse, and seven taels for a lower horse.

Each official market trade in Datong could buy horses worth over a hundred thousand taels of silver, and an additional ten to twenty thousand taels were given as rewards to the Mongolian envoys. In the small market, the trade was mainly for ordinary mules, horses, cattle, and sheep, along with a large amount of furs and some dried goods like mushrooms and pine nuts, though in limited quantities. Occasionally, rare items like ginseng appeared, but that was extremely rare. In Liaodong, the market had more ginseng and pearls, but in Datong, mules, horses, cattle, and sheep were the most common trade items.

"Twenty shi of grain for a horse, ten shi for a cow, three shi for a sheep, and furs are also available. No silver, just grain."

"Who wants ginseng? A ten-year-old ginseng for twenty shi of grain, a hundred-year-old ginseng for five hundred shi of grain. Limited quantity, act fast if you want to trade."

"Grain is limited, cloth is also acceptable."

"Various herbs and medicines are also needed."

"No silver, just grain."

The noise was overwhelming. As soon as the trade began, both sides engaged in heated negotiations and haggling. Zhang Han didn't stay at his shop but moved through the crowd.

Listen more, observe more—this was his current priority.

After listening for a while, he indeed gained some insights.

Grain was the most important item in this trade. Whether they brought mules, horses, cattle, sheep, or furs, or rare items like ginseng, the core of the exchange was grain, followed by cloth and herbs. Beyond that, they also wanted silver. Previously popular miscellaneous goods had limited trade volume this time, with only a few essential items like needles and thread still in demand. The rest of the miscellaneous goods were largely ignored.

"Damn, did the grasslands suffer a major disaster? These Tartars only want grain, it's killing us."

Liang Hong, sweating profusely, directed his assistants to negotiate with the Mongolians. Merchants in Xinping堡 had to learn some Mongolian, otherwise, doing business would be too difficult.

Zhang Han was also learning Mongolian from an old interpreter, but it would take at least a few months to become proficient.

Today, He Yusheng had prepared a lot of miscellaneous goods and grain. Unfortunately, there were few takers for the miscellaneous goods, and even fewer successful trades. Fortunately, the price of grain soared, and the trading price was higher than He Yusheng's cost. Whether they exchanged for mules, horses, cattle, sheep, or silver, it was all profit. This month's small market not only didn't lose money but also made a good profit, which could offset some of the losses. Although Liang Hong was cursing and sweating, he was actually very happy.

Zhou Fengji and the shop's accountants and assistants were also busy, with smiles on their faces.

Zhang Han was naturally happy, but he didn't place much value on the silver they earned today. Earning this way, he might accumulate a few hundred thousand by the time he was old, but it was like a floating weed, and he could be ruined by offending a powerful figure at any moment.

His goal was to build a family business as strong as the Kang and Qiao families, with deep roots and wealth that could rival a nation. Zhang Han remembered that in the biographies he read, the Chang family of the Eight Great Families lent nearly two million taels of silver to the royal family during the Qianlong era. Such a commercial family could be considered stable, and their descendants could enjoy prosperity for hundreds of years.

As for more, Zhang Han didn't think too much. He was a merchant before and after his arrival, and the pursuit of profit was ingrained in him. Beyond that, he couldn't think much further.

Today's events and the trading situation made Zhang Han feel something was off.

He had collected some data on previous small markets. Grain was always the main item, but tea, tea bricks, oil, salt, cloth, even vegetables, pickled meat, and pickles, and luxury items like ironware, were also in high demand.

The hardships of the Mongolians in this era were unimaginable to later generations. The Han areas were also cold, but the Great Wall was a dividing line. Xinping堡, though cold, had arable land and water sources, and the Daliang Mountains blocked the harsher cold. People had houses, beds, and charcoal fires, and as long as they weren't too poor, winter wasn't too hard. On the grasslands, the Mongolian yurts were surrounded by ice and snow, and a heavy snowfall could bury livestock. In winter, they had to feed and move their livestock, and extreme cold could lead to the death of all their animals. In such a place, apart from furs and livestock, nothing else was produced, so all living supplies were desperately needed. Even a needle, a jar of pickles, grain, tea, and cloth were in high demand. This time, the Tartars had changed their preferences, wanting only grain, cloth, and herbs, which seemed strange.

Zhang Han wandered and thought, but he accidentally wandered into a place he shouldn't have.

A man stretched out his hand to stop him. "Hey, you barbarian, don't wander around here."

Zhang Han sneezed... the smell was really strong.

The man blocking him was a Mongolian soldier in leather armor and an iron helmet, with a flat, round face, narrow eyes, a flat nose, and a full beard... a typical Mongolian appearance. He was short and sturdy, with muscles all over his body, exuding a powerful force.