The Ming Dynasty 1626 Enlightenment

Chapter 55 The Storyteller of Linqing in the Ming Dynasty

Zhu Ming wandered around the streets of Linqing until he reached a street corner.

The two-story wooden building has an old plaque above the door that reads "Tingyuxuan" (Listening to the Rain Pavilion). The paint has faded considerably, clearly indicating that it was once a teahouse.

Zhu Ming stood at the door for a moment, and when he heard a burst of laughter coming from inside, and the wooden stairs thumped with footsteps, he stepped inside.

The lobby on the first floor was more than half full, and the aroma of tea mixed with the rising heat from people's bodies, creating a warm, humid atmosphere.

In front of the hall was a platform about half a person's height, with a table, a chair, and a gavel on it. A middle-aged man in a gray cloth long gown was holding a teacup to moisten his throat, while a fifteen or sixteen-year-old apprentice stood beside him, holding a basket in his hands.

Zhu Ming sat down by the window and ordered a pot of coarse tea.

Shen Yan and Jin Yidao sat down at the next table, each ordering a plate of peanuts, but their eyes were subtly glancing towards the door and the stairs.

The gavel struck the stage, and the entire hall fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, last time we talked about Nurhaci, also known as Nurhaci of the Jianzhou Jurchens, who raised an army with thirteen suits of armor to seek revenge..."

Zhu Ming paused for a moment as he held the teacup.

The "Nurhaci's Two or Three Things" series in the Tianqi Daily of the Ming Dynasty was written by the six gentlemen of Donglin who were working as talents in the imperial prison. It was published daily and was dedicated to exposing the secrets of the Jianzhou Jurchens.

It describes Nurhaci's origins, his rise to power, his conquest of various tribes, the establishment of the Later Jin dynasty, and his little-known secrets.

As the storyteller continued, the conversation veered off-topic.

"But as you all know, those thirteen suits of armor were not, as the Shanxi laborers and peddlers claimed, his grandfather's heirloom."

The storyteller pressed down with his gavel, leaned forward, and lowered his voice as if revealing a huge secret: "Those thirteen suits of armor actually belonged to his father-in-law's family!"

Someone in the hall exclaimed "Whoa!"

"Speaking of this Nuerha, in his early years he was nothing more than a down-on-his-luck Jianzhou native. His father and grandfather had both died in the chaos of war. With nowhere else to turn, he married into the Tong family!"

The storyteller gestured with his hand on the table, indicating names. "The Tong family was a prominent family in Liaodong. For a Jurchen man to marry into a Han family, he would be ostracized by his clan. But this Nurha didn't care. He married Tong Yuan's daughter, a girl named Hahana Zhaqing!"

Zhu Ming nodded. The storyteller truly understood and explained the matter of Nuerhazhi very well.

Then, the storyteller became more and more engrossed in his tale, "It is said that Nurhaci, with his wolfish ambitions, finally rebelled against the Ming Dynasty. Before he raised his army, because he had no soldiers or armor, he could only turn to his wife, Hahana Zhaqing, for help!"

He paused, looked around at the audience, and struck the gavel again. "After careful consideration and repeated discussions, the Tong family agreed to his request, taking out thirteen and a half suits of armor from their own pawnshop, along with countless amounts of gold and silver. This forced Nurhaci to raise an army. The half suit of armor was said to be an old one missing a breastplate, but that was also given to him."

A low murmur of laughter and discussion erupted in the hall.

The storyteller poured himself some tea to moisten his throat, and with a clapper, said, "To find out what happens next, please listen to the next chapter."

Applause and cheers mingled in the hall. The young apprentice came down from the stage with a basket, walked around the table, and called out, "Gentlemen, please give me some money for the tea." The copper coins and silver coins in the basket jingled.

When they reached Zhu Ming's table, Zhu Ming glanced at Jin Yidao.

Jin Yidao understood, reached into his sleeve and rummaged around for a while before pulling out a ten-cash Ming Dynasty banknote. After hesitating for a moment, he put it into the basket.

Zhu Ming looked at the small, pale green piece of paper lying at the bottom of the basket, surrounded by copper coins and silver coins—it looked shabby no matter how you looked at it.

He lowered his voice and asked, "Is that all?"

Jin Yidao leaned closer and whispered, "Sir, this is the usual price. Giving more would only attract attention."

"I'm a spoiled brat from the capital now. Ten coins as a tip?" Zhu Ming looked at him, speechless.

I came here to be a spoiled brat. If I'm not paid much, how can I be a spoiled brat?

Jin Yidao opened his mouth, then closed it again.

He slowly pulled out two more banknotes from deep inside his sleeve, one a hundred coins, not a large amount, and the ink was still fresh.

Zhu Ming glanced at it, didn't take it, and added, "Ten strings of cash each, thirty strings for the three of us."

Jin Yidao's lips twitched.

He glanced at Zhu Ming, then at Shen Yan. Shen Yan lowered his head and drank his tea, pretending not to have heard anything.

He had no choice but to resign himself to his fate and pulled out three more ten-string-of-cash banknotes from the deepest part of his sleeve. The paper was brand new and the ink was bright.

He handed them over very reluctantly, as if he were saying a final goodbye to the three pieces of paper.

Zhu Ming took it and casually put it into the basket.

The apprentice looked down at the few colorful pieces of paper that had appeared in the basket and paused in surprise.

He picked one of the sheets up to the light and examined it. The paper was crisp, printed with fine dark patterns and an exquisite portrait of the Hongwu Emperor, with the large characters "ten strings of cash" clearly legible.

He turned it over and looked at the back, but he really didn't recognize what it was. He looked up at Zhu Ming, then at Jin Yidao, and a polite look of bewilderment appeared on his face.

They probably thought this was some novel thing brought out by someone from the capital, different from the copper coins and silver coins commonly found in the market, perhaps some kind of fancy paper scraps they got from somewhere.

He didn't say much, just tucked the banknotes under the basket, smiled, and said in a thick Shandong accent, "Even with a fortune, there are times when things are inconvenient. It's alright if you don't have any change; coming to listen to our storytelling is your way of showing your support."

Zhu Ming was taken aback.

The accent was rapid and smooth; he only caught the words "it's alright" and "show your support," then turned to Jin Yidao: "What did he say?"

Jin Yidao traveled all over the country in his early years and had heard Shandong dialect, Henan dialect, and Anhui dialect.

He heard every word his apprentice said, and now, facing Zhu Ming's gaze, a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

You can't just translate it literally: "Sir, it's okay if you don't have any change, as long as you're here to support us."

Doesn't that mean the piece of paper you're holding isn't money?

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he quickly made up a sentence: "He said thank you, because of you, the four seasons are warm."

"....."

Zhu Ming looked at him, speechless, utterly speechless!

But for some reason, he didn't ask any further questions. He simply picked up the teacup, took a sip, put it down, and got up to leave.

Shen Yan immediately followed, and Jin Yidao breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and quickly followed behind.

Just as the three of them reached the door, they heard a series of hurried footsteps behind them.

The middle-aged storyteller in the gray cloth robe ran down from the second floor, holding the hem of his robe in one hand and clutching the three ten-string-denomination new Ming Dynasty banknotes in the other, and chased after him to the door in a few steps.

"Master, Master, please wait!" he gasped, cupping his hands in a smile as he bowed deeply to Zhu Ming. "My humble disciple was blind to the value of gold inlaid with jade and didn't recognize the new Ming Dynasty banknotes. He spoke nonsense earlier; please don't take it to heart!"

He turned and roared into the hall, "You blind fool! That's the new Ming Dynasty paper money! Issued by the imperial court! It was published in the Tianqi Daily! Don't you read the newspapers?!"

From inside the hall came the young apprentice's aggrieved murmur, "Reporting... Master, you usually tell me to read more of things like *Jin Ping Mei*... You said the audience loves that kind of stuff!"

The storyteller turned back, smiling obsequiously, "Sir, your donation of thirty strings of cash makes you one of the wealthiest people in the entire Linqing city. From now on, the best seat will be reserved for you, the tea is on me, and you can choose any story you like!"

Zhu Ming waved his hand to interrupt him, smiled and said, "No need, just focus on telling the story."

The storyteller thanked him profusely and stepped aside.

Zhu Ming walked out of the teahouse, and the sunlight shone brightly on his face again.

He stood at the door for a moment, glanced back at the old plaque of "Tingyuxuan", and then continued walking along the street.

His pace was neither too fast nor too slow.

A thought crossed his mind: Even in a place like Linqing, there is still such great resistance to the circulation of the new Ming Dynasty paper money among the people.

Although it has begun to be used in large-scale transactions and has been reported in newspapers, ordinary people, shop assistants, and teahouse apprentices still only recognize copper coins and silver.

It will take at least two or three more years to push this forward.

Alas! Saving the Ming Dynasty is a long and arduous task!