Chapter 259: Days
“Being a traitor like this, even a dog lives more comfortably!”
“The key is that these 100,000 tons of grain are impossible to collect. Didn’t Director Gu set an example for us? With 20,000 tons, the people of Shanghai were about to take to the streets to rob rice. With 100,000 tons, the people of Shanghai could gnaw the land bare!
What is this trying to do? Isn’t this asking for trouble?”
“100,000 tons of military grain, enough to feed the entire Japanese Army in Central China for a year?”
“Enough to stuff them to death!”
“It’s probably not only to supply the Japanese Army in Central China, but also other places. Jiangnan, the land of fish and rice, which dynasty or generation didn’t supply the whole country?”
“Stop complaining.” Fu Xiao’an interrupted with a stern face, glaring at the few who complained the most, “Does complaining help? Think of solutions!”
“Mayor, it’s not that we’re complaining, but these 100,000 tons of grain—you know the market trend, tell us, is it possible to complete it?
The key is he also wants to guarantee future taxation, how is that possible to complete?
I think the Japanese now have a problem. Levying these 100,000 tons of grain will surely make Shanghai’s citizens suffer immensely, and they still talk about economic development—they won’t even have the strength to do that.
The Japanese are using us as whores to stand up a memorial archway. They raise military grain, and we’re the ones who get scolded.”
“Then try not collecting it?” Fu Xiao’an shot him a sideways glance, and the other chose to shut up.
Fu Xiao’an rolled his eyes at him and withdrew his gaze: “100,000 tons is a bit much, but without trying, how do you know it’s impossible? At least for the first few months, you need to show results to make the Japanese believe you’ve made an effort. For the later months, a slight shortfall is understandable, right?”
As soon as he said this, everyone present understood.
“Mayor Fu, do you mean to take it seriously for the first two months? Then during the autumn harvest season, make up to 9,000 tons, and for the rest, whatever we can get, no forcing it?”
“What do you mean no forcing? If the Japanese hear that, isn’t it asking for death? There’s a difference between trying your best and not trying—that’s an attitude problem.”
“Yes, the Mayor is right.”
“Stop the nonsense. If you have ideas, speak them; if not, shut up.”
So everyone shut up.
Gu Yansheng also chose silence is golden. For such matters, not only is it hard to come up with ideas, even if he could, he wouldn’t offer them.
100,000 tons of grain—nice thinking. Wanting both taxation and grain, there’s no such good deal in the world.
Just forcibly requisitioning these 100,000 tons of grain will surely throw Shanghai into chaos.
Gu Yansheng also didn’t understand—what did it mean for the Greater East Asia Ministry, which was doing well with economic development, to suddenly stab itself with a knife?
Fu Xiao’an was frustrated seeing this, “What am I supposed to rely on you for? All you do is talk nonsense like machine guns, but when it comes to key matters, not one opens their mouth—are you all mute?”
“Mayor, this matter is tough with 100,000 tons, this, heh heh.”
“Go back and think of ideas.” Fu Xiao’an disdainfully shooed them away, not expecting any good ideas from them anyway.
“Secretary-General Ling, Director Gu, stay behind.” Big matters still needed the three of them to discuss.
Once the others left, Fu Xiao’an sighed deeply, “What do you think we should do about this? I can say for sure, this mission is hard to complete. To complete it, we’d have to skin and bone Shanghai.
The Japanese have too big an appetite this time. If it were just Shanghai, it might be manageable, we could raise some grain from Jiangsu, but from his tone, Jiangsu has its own mission too—I estimate it’s no lighter than ours.
Ling Xianwen asked, “You understand the economy. What’s the approximate shortfall in Shanghai?”
Fu Xiao’an shook his head, “A lot. Even in a good year, Shanghai wouldn’t have this much grain inventory. Last year, the forced requisition that Director Gu handled emptied Shanghai’s stored grain.
The current grain situation in Shanghai—let me put it this way: last year when grain was cheap, rice was 12 silver dollars per shi.
Due to the forced requisition, rice prices plummeted—no, wait, skyrocketed, briefly surging over 200 times. Even now, the rice price hasn’t fully returned to last year’s level; it’s about 30 silver dollars per shi.
More rice, prices fall; less rice, prices rise. This 30 bucks is the current state of Shanghai’s grain.
“What will happen with 100,000 tons forcibly requisitioned?” Ling Xianwen asked.
Fu Xiao’an frowned, “Shanghai has nearly 4 million people, with Chinese Territory accounting for 60%. These 100,000 tons of grain for the army could feed 400,000 Japanese troops; for civilians, it would feed 600,000, which is a quarter of Chinese Territory’s population.
To be realistic, once that quarter is gone, it won’t be everyone eating a little less with some rice for all—instead, prices will rise until a quarter of the people starve to death, and only then will it end.”
“This absurd? If they really do this, what will Shanghai turn into?” Ling Xianwen looked at Gu Yansheng.
Gu Yansheng chose silence is golden.
Frowning slightly and nodding, indicating the matter was indeed tricky.
Seeing no reaction from Gu Yansheng, Ling Xianwen looked back at Fu Xiao’an and thought: “I have an idea. What if we impose price controls, rationing, and forcibly control the quantity? Could we complete the mission? At least everyone would have some rice to eat, even if less—Shanghai would be more stable?”
Fu Xiao’an thought and nodded slowly, “Price and quantity controls… worth trying, but there are issues. Logically it works, but how do you actually confiscate?
Confiscate from farmers, you have to do it now—once from farmers, it’s a one-time deal; can’t collect monthly. Take 100,000 tons at once—what does Shanghai eat?
Confiscate from businessmen, how? He procures 100 tons, hands over 25 tons to the city government? His business would lose money.”
“What about price increase? After increase, impose price control to ensure no loss. You said 30 bucks for 60 kg, right? Raise to 39 bucks for 60 kg, how’s that?”
“It’s not as simple as you think.” Ling Xianwen doesn’t do business, so Fu Xiao’an had to educate him, “Secretary-General Ling, it’s not that they only want to sell for 30 bucks—it’s that buyers can only afford 30 bucks. You have to consider Chinese Territory residents’ income: ten-odd silver dollars a month. Three months’ wages buy 60 kg of rice, then the family has not a penny left.”
“Yes, not enough money.” Ling Xianwen tsked in headache and looked at Gu Yansheng.
Gu Yansheng chose silence is golden.
Frowning slightly and nodding, indicating the matter was indeed tricky.
Ling Xianwen smacked his lips, “Yansheng, don’t stay silent. You have lots of ideas—give one. Can’t be that as soon as you’re Minister, you ignore city government matters? It hasn’t even opened yet, at least a month away, right?
It won’t open in just a month, will it?”
“No, not that fast yet.” Gu Yansheng shook his head and sighed.
Fu Xiao’an teased with a laugh, “Minister Gu really can ignore it now—just say you’re a minister of the new government, and Tsuda can’t do anything to him. Who’s to blame for him being busy?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to say—it’s that I really have no good way.” Gu Yansheng felt so wronged—why assume he had a way.
Extract 100,000 tons of grain, no rice to eat—that even Father couldn’t solve.
Of course, from Shanghai’s angle, secretly buying some grain from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, dead friends don’t die poor— that’s another matter.
Have businessmen foot the bill, procure overnight to exploit time difference—solve 20,000 tons from each place, then Shanghai’s remaining 60,000 tons pressure eases.
The matter could indeed be completed.
“Really no way.
If I must say, both your ideas are fine.
First meet each month’s quota to show we’re working hard, then price and quantity controls to maintain as best we can. As for the result, we’ll see then.
One more thing I’m considering: the Japanese are fickle—today it’s this, tomorrow it might not be.
Earlier they talked economic development, but with this path, how much money will citizens have left after buying grain?
No money, other consumption inevitably drops— if the economy improves then, there’s a ghost.”
This made sense too. Working for the Japanese, who knows how long—do one day monk, hit one day bell.
“Then let’s do it this way for now, see the situation later.”
Leaving the city government, Gu Yansheng drove to Zhou Mansion to report.
“This matter is pretty bad. Doing this before the new government is established will leave Shanghai on a very poor foundation. The industrial base I painstakingly built in West Shanghai—when consumers are gone, the loss will be borne by the new government.”
“How can they do this? These Japanese really don’t understand economy at all!”
Minister Zhou frowned upon hearing, “You said rice is 30 bucks for 60 kg?”
“Yes, before the price increase 30, now estimated at 39 for sales.”
“Without price increase, that’s about 500 silver dollars per ton—100,000 tons is 50 million silver dollars.”
Minister Zhou felt the pain hearing this—this was just Shanghai; across all Japanese occupied areas, it’s over a hundred million tons of grain gone.
“The Japanese promised us 3 million Japanese Yen monthly funding support—our annual funding isn’t even as much as what they extract from Shanghai in one go. The Japanese really strike too hard.”
Japanese Yen to silver dollar exchange rate is about the same now.
“So the city government has decided to do it?”
“Yes, the Japanese demand it—they don’t dare refuse.”
“The Japanese are too unrighteous.” Minister Zhou shook his head, thought, and said, “Then do it, do it vigorously. Use this to stir up citizens’ dissatisfaction with Japan, best to make the occupied areas chaotic, force the Japanese to speed up the new government’s establishment, let us step in to clean up the situation, turn bad into good.”
Truth be told, from this angle, it was indeed beneficial for the Wang Faction’s establishment—they were still confused about when or if it would happen.
“Minister has keen insight. I have a bit of an idea, but it’s not easy to say.” Gu Yansheng smiled without continuing.
“Say it. Why hesitate with me?”
“It’s like this—I think this matter is actually quite interesting.”
Minister Zhou was intrigued, “How interesting?”
Gu Yansheng smiled: “I read a story in a book about court disaster relief. To prevent non-disaster victims from stealing food, the relief official mixed sand into the porridge.
The reason: only those near starvation would disdain such stuff.
It was a good method, and these officials were portrayed in history as upright and diligent.
So I thought, with sand mixed in, doesn’t the porridge weigh more? Doesn’t that make the rice seem more?
So how did they report the extra portion in accounts?
In such a great disaster year, rice prices weren’t cheap.”
Gu Yansheng said it bluntly; Minister Zhou understood immediately—mix sand into the rice for the Japanese, interesting.
“Soldiers on the battlefield eating some sand is fine—they’re dying anyway. What do you think we should do?”
“I definitely can’t handle it. Better for us to stay hands-off. I think No. 76 is more suitable—Director Li, Director Ding both can. No need to say about Director Ding, but whether Director Li is Wang’s or Japan’s, Minister, you probably want to know too.
Director Li also serves as Deputy Minister of Police Administration.
Confiscating grain definitely needs masses of police; what the people fear most is that black uniform.
If Director Li acts, he can absolutely do it.
If he doesn’t, it’s a test; if he does, you know his stance.
Plus a benefit: the Japanese will eventually discover it and need to investigate the reason.
Who do they go to? Still No. 76.”
Minister Zhou listened thoughtfully, smiled faintly: “Good, I understand. You don’t worry about it, rest well.”
Gu Yansheng bowed and left.
Back to the Tea House.
His subordinate told him Fu Xiao’an had called.
Gu Yansheng called back, “Mayor Fu, what’s up?”
“I suddenly thought, could this affect our cotton yarn business? Last time’s forced requisition caused the stock market crash. If futures prices get beaten down, our revenue this time will be much less.”
Fu Xiao’an still had lingering fear from the last stock market crash—it nearly bankrupted him.
Gu Yansheng sneered, “Mayor Fu, aren’t you overthinking? This is just grain confiscation—how does it relate to our cotton yarn?”
“You can’t think that way. Markets influence each other. Rice gets expensive, more money spent on rice, less spare cash, right? Then people who wanted to buy stocks now can’t afford it.
Or those who bought stocks can’t afford rice and have to sell stocks—won’t stock prices fall then?”
“Hey, Mayor Fu, since when are you so cautious?” Gu Yansheng laughed, “Wasn’t it you who told me our funds can completely control the market—rise when we want, fall when we want? People who can’t afford rice can’t afford stocks anyway—not the same class.”
“But we have spot goods. This grain confiscation covers all areas. If cotton yarn businessmen judge it will worsen the market, they’ll receive fewer goods. We have so much spot goods—who do we sell to?”
This did have some impact, but Gu Yansheng didn’t think it big.
In these times, which poor person buys new clothes yearly? Last year’s cotton jacket is still wearable this year.
Cotton yarn prices this high target the young ladies and Mrs. of major investors.
“So what does Mayor Fu think?”
“Start selling early—both futures and spot goods, sell off some to avoid risk. The older in Jianghu, the smaller the courage.”
“Haha, fine by me. No objection. I’ll tell my men to fully cooperate with your market operation. Good, that’s it for now.”
Gu Yansheng hung up.
This matter was about to get big. Japanese grain confiscation would cause social unrest, bad economic environment—poor people hit hardest.
And Fu Xiao’an choosing now to sell off—after they exit, stock prices plummet, rich people hit hardest.
These days were going to be tough.
