Chapter 5: The Sixth Genius

If a man cannot grasp the concept of factoring financing, his brain must be filled with nothing but granite pulp.

After two hours of explanation, Li Changan had a strong urge to take a hammer to his best friend’s skull just to see what exactly was inside. How could such a simple principle—using future income as collateral for a loan, a perfectly mature financial model—be so difficult to comprehend?

The Qian family possessed a long and storied lineage, spanning nearly two hundred years since the end of the Tang Dynasty. Yet, for Qian Weiming, this was the first time he had ever heard of using unreceived expected income as a pawnable asset.

Just as the two were locked in a heated dispute and their friendship was on the verge of collapse, a figure appeared. He wore his thick, dark hair in a high bun secured with a silk ribbon, framing a face as sharp and polished as fine jade. Dressed in a pale gold silk robe, he carried himself with a grace that suggested the very air moved with him, reminiscent of a master painting.

The young gentleman had barely entered the room, let alone struck a pose or uttered a word, before Li Changan grabbed him by the sleeve and unceremoniously shoved him into a chair.

"Perfect timing! The sixth-smartest man in the Great Song has arrived. Let him be the judge—am I running a scam? Listen closely: My Huimin Bank has issued five thousand loans, ten guan each, payable within three years. Now, I want to pledge these fifty thousand guan to Daxiangguo Temple to borrow twenty thousand guan at an annual interest rate of fifteen percent. Do you think this is a scam?"

Wang Pang pondered for a moment. Why was he being asked to answer a question that even a child could solve? The rules of pawnbroking in the Great Song were clear: to borrow money, one must present tangible collateral. Was this boy’s brain as unconventional as his peculiar tastes? How could one pledge money not yet in hand? If the debt defaulted, how could the lender claim compensation?

"And why am I ranked sixth? Who exactly are the top five?"

Li Changan felt a jolt of mental inertia, nearly stumbling over his own thoughts. "Focus on the business at hand! There are at least ten people in the top five—myself, Su Zizhan, your father, Ouyang Xiu, Sima Guang, Fu Bi, Han Qi..."

Wang Pang sprang up, but before he could stand, Li Changan’s large hands pressed him back into the chair.

"Speak up! If not, when Su Zizhan returns, I’ll have him write a poem to lampoon you, and I’ll pay every courtesan in the city to sing it!"

It was like a scholar encountering a soldier; Wang Pang’s aura of noble arrogance was completely ineffective against this particular scoundrel. Did he not know that he was now a junior minister, someone who could walk through the imperial palace gates as if they were his own front door?

"You’re only here to cut the line for a cook, aren't you? Fine, I promise you, the first batch will definitely include the most beautiful one!" Li Changan declared with excessive generosity.

Wang Pang was nearly driven to fury. What was this nonsense? He had no such strange predilections; he preferred normal people, not some obsession with hiring cooks. Fortunately, Qian Weiming, hailing from an aristocratic family, possessed enough sense of propriety to pull Li Changan away before the young minister completely lost his composure.

"Junior Minister, you be the judge," Qian Weiming pleaded. "In all the world, who ever uses something they don't even have yet as collateral?"

Wang Pang thought to himself: *Do I owe you two something? I’ve come all this way, entered the room without a greeting, haven't had a drop of water, and now I’m supposed to arbitrate your petty squabbles?* If it weren't for the sake of the Wuyue Qian family, he would have had Li Changan exiled to Zhanzhou immediately, along with that insufferable, long-faced Su Shi and the stubborn old fool Sima Guang. In an instant, his list of people to exile had already grown to a dozen.

Li Changan realized he had been a bit crude and hastily ordered a servant to bring the young minister some iced honey water. Just as Wang Pang was about to speak, Li Changan anticipated him.

"Let me ask you a question: Is the Great Song’s tax revenue for next year considered 'money'? If it is, can the government borrow money from merchants against it now?"

*Ding!*

A chord seemed to strike in Wang Pang’s mind. Borrowing money with money, using next year's funds to cover this year's needs, using future income as leverage to extract cash today—this was a brilliant strategy. Others might be scammers, but could the Great Song imperial court be a scammer? Tax revenues were rising every single year.

He took a sip of the honey water, which was garnished with a slice of lemon; it was truly refreshing. *Hmph, he really is the most notorious rake in the Eastern Capital—he knows how to enjoy life even better than I do. I should try this when I get home.*

"Speak up! If you're the sixth-ranked genius, surely you understood the question. If you don't answer, I’m bumping you further down the list!"

Mentioning the ranking was like stepping on his toes. "Vulgar! Only a vulgar person like you would compile such a 'genius list,' and you slander high-ranking court officials to boot. I see you’re begging to be sent to Zhanzhou!"

Wang Pang could not bear the humiliation. The entire market acknowledged him as the smartest man alive, second only to Wang Anshi. He curled his lip in disdain, pushed his chair further away, and brushed off his shoulder as if it had been soiled.

"The state’s tax revenue is as stable as Mount Tai. Your tiny bank, barely a thousand square feet with only a few clerks—on what basis do you claim your future income is guaranteed?"

One shouldn't push an honest man too far; it only leads to defiance. Li Changan walked behind the counter, pulled out a wooden box, and opened the lid to reveal it packed full of contracts. He slammed his hand down on it with a loud *thud*.

"On this! The Great Song prides itself on contracts—at least for now, it does. Five thousand signed and thumb-printed agreements. Whoever dares to default, I’ll take them to the Kaifeng Prefecture office!"

Wang Pang laughed. Under the New Policies, even official government loans had a forty percent default rate. For a tiny bank like this, he’d be lucky if thirty percent of borrowers repaid their debts. He shook his head and pursed his lips, unimpressed.

"What about this, then?" Li Changan immediately produced another box of contracts. "I sign agreements with employers to train and dispatch cooks for them. Who would dare not pay?"

This time, Wang Pang was silenced. *Only a truly wicked mind could come up with such a ruthless scheme.* The cooks had become kites floating in the sky, their strings held firmly in the hands of the bank, turning them into lambs to be shorn at will.

Li Changan was not the type to beg for a living. By controlling the employment agencies, he had cut off any path for the cooks to find work independently. Any employer who dared to defy the contract would have their reputation in the Eastern Capital dragged through the mud by the agencies.

"Well... while it hardly aligns with the way of a gentleman, it is... I suppose, technically feasible."

Wang Pang’s mind had already wandered. Li Changan or Li Luoyang—these were trivial matters. He had just stumbled upon a superior method for solving the empire's fiscal crisis. There were plenty of places to borrow money: pawn shops, merchant firms, wealthy households, and noble families. With the Emperor’s seal, the Ministry of Finance’s stamp, and the backing of 1.7 million soldiers of the Great Song, what was there to fear?

"I’m leaving! I have pressing matters to attend to today and no time for your sesame-seed-sized disputes. Goodbye!"

Wang Pang departed without hesitation, as if his only purpose in coming was to catch a glimpse of the operation. Qian Weiming felt a chill down his spine. The two were so strangely familiar with each other; could there be some unspeakable connection? He had heard that Li Changan had split from his family after a massive row over his marriage—could this be related?

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Li Changan asked, baffled.

"In short, we must secure this money! With capital, we can open schools; with schools, we can recruit talent under the guise of hiring teachers; with talent, we can train financial journalists; and with journalists, you—as editor-in-chief—can gather information, and our 'Great Song Financial Weekly' will finally be a reality. If you don't want to be the editor-in-chief who directs the flow of the nation, I'll just give the position to Su Shi."

Qian Weiming snapped, "Li Changan, don't push your luck!"