Chapter Seven: Glutinous Rice Paper Tickets
The moment Liu Bao'er received the stamped approval slip from her grandmother, she didn't hesitate for a moment. Time is money, and information asymmetry is profit. Like a young shark that has smelled blood, she quickly threw herself into the battle.
She didn't go directly to the Salt and Iron Commissioner's office; that would be too conspicuous and easily expose her relationship with the Dou family. Instead, relying on the tacit understanding and trust she had built with Hu Liu over the past few years, she went directly to him.
At a secluded tea stall, Liu Bao'er cut to the chase: "A big deal. If it goes through, it'll earn you more than you've made in the last few years. Want to do it?"
Hu Liu was now completely convinced of her abilities. Upon hearing this, his eyes lit up, and he lowered his voice, "Just give the order, young lady!"
"Before noon, find me ten trustworthy brothers who are quick-witted, agile, and articulate. Also, buy enough glutinous rice paper, a small amount of ink, and a sharp knife." Her tone was concise, carrying an unquestionable decisiveness.
Without a word, Hu Liu immediately set to work. The manpower and materials were quickly gathered. In an abandoned woodshed filled with miscellaneous items in the backyard of the Dou family, Liu Bao'er began her astonishing operation. Hu Liu and his brothers stood by, their eyes filled with curiosity and absolute trust.
She didn't want to resell the entire salt certificate directly; that was too slow, too conspicuous, and the profit was limited.
She directed someone to carefully trace the clear outline of the vermilion official seal onto ten official salt certificates with a sharp knife, imprinting them onto soft and resilient glutinous rice paper. Then, she personally used a fine brush to write next to the imprint, "This certificate can be verified at the back alley of Dou Family Shop. Collect all ten certificates to exchange for three catties of official salt," and marked them with a unique number.
"This is... a weapon?" Hu Liu was terrified and lowered his voice. If caught, it would be a capital offense!
"No," Liu Bao'er said without looking up, her hands moving swiftly, her tone as calm as if discussing the weather, "These are 'small-denomination salt coupons.' We're not selling salt, we're selling 'hope,' the hope that those small merchants who could never even touch a full salt certificate in their entire lives, with meager capital, could also get a share of the pie. The official seal imprint is only for added credibility; the final redemption requires verification at the Dou family's shop. The anti-counterfeiting measure is here, not there."
She broke down the ten salt certificates into one hundred small rice paper slips. The cost per slip was almost negligible.
As the sun rose higher, the East Market opened, and the crowds gradually thickened. Liu Bao'er directed operations from behind the scenes, while Hu Liu and his brothers, like well-trained soldiers, dispersed into the throng. They precisely targeted the lower-class merchants carrying loads on shoulder poles, setting up small stalls, their eyes filled with a thirst for wealth.
"Old man, come and see! Fifteen coins, not much, right? That's only the price of three flatbreads! Buy these slips, collect ten, and you can exchange them for thirty catties of government-issued salt! You know better than I do what the market price of salt is right now! It's a sure-fire way to make money!"
"Auntie, think about it, fifteen coins for three hundred! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! The Dou Family Money Shop is a reputable name, isn't it?"
Fifteen coins—a price so low it was practically nonexistent—perfectly broke down the psychological barriers of most small vendors. The risk was minimal, but the potential reward was extremely high. The clear official seal imprint on the rice paper, and the subtle endorsement of the name "Dou Family Shop," further enhanced its credibility. A near-panic buying frenzy ensued, completed before noon. One hundred receipts sold out completely.
Liu Bao'er had 1,500 coins left.
Without pausing, she immediately handed all 1,500 coins to Hu Liu, speaking rapidly: "Hire people! Go to the Salt and Iron Commissioner's office and line up now! Hire as many as you can! Tomorrow morning, use all this money to buy newly issued salt certificates!"
Hu Liu was completely impressed by the little girl's whirlwind tactics and precise, ruthless calculations. His doubts had long since vanished. Without another word, he led his men to carry it out.
For the next two weeks, Liu Bao'er led this growing "financial team" in a high-speed arbitrage cycle between the salt certificate market and the black market. They purchased salt certificates—split them into smaller bills for sale—recovered funds—hired more people to queue up and buy new certificates…the funds snowballed.
She meticulously calculates the risks and rewards of each step, maximizing leverage while maintaining capital liquidity, never being greedy or overextending herself, and knowing when to stop.
On the evening before the half-month deadline, Liu Bao'er placed ten brand-new salt certificates, untouched, on the desk of the Dou family's matriarch. Also placed there was a heavy bundle of three strings of cash, strung together with red string.
The old grandmother looked at the ten tickets, then at the pile of copper coins on the table, and finally her gaze fell on Liu Bao'er's small face, which looked slightly tired from days of planning, but whose eyes were becoming brighter and sharper.
The room was eerily quiet. Wisps of sandalwood smoke curled and swirled, mirroring the subtle atmosphere of the moment.
After a long while, the old grandmother waved her hand, signaling the old servant to return the temporarily held memorial tablet to Liu Bao'er.
Liu Bao'er accepted the memorial tablet without saying much, but respectfully bowed.
Leaving the room and walking down the increasingly twilight-filled corridor, she felt a surge of immense exhaustion and excitement wash over her simultaneously. Returning to her small room, she closed the door. She placed the memorial tablet back in its place, then sat on the edge of the tatami mat, laughing silently, her shoulders trembling slightly with suppressed emotion.
Nine hundred and thirty strings of cash!
In just half a month, she used ten salt certificates as initial leverage to amass a fortune of nearly a thousand strings of cash!
She looked up at the lights of Chang'an City lighting up one after another outside the window, and an unprecedented sense of accomplishment filled her heart.
"This is just the beginning..." she murmured to herself, her fingertips tapping lightly on the cool edge of the bed, as if knocking on the door to future wealth.
Once the floodgates of capital are opened, how can they be stopped so easily?
She could already hear the roar of money flowing, and that sound would surely resound throughout the entire Tang Dynasty.
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