He Shen is dead. As he faced death with a three-foot length of white silk, he thought: If I get another life, what if I put my knack for making money and reading people to good use...
When he opened his eyes, he had become a low-ranking official in the Ministry of Revenue in the second year of Chongzhen, so poor he had only sixty-three copper coins to his name.
From the start, he was in a dead end: raise 200,000 taels in military funds within ten days or be executed.
He Shen smiled. Make money? It's a skill passed down in my family.
From raiding corrupt officials' homes to making money from unscrupulous merchants, from customs duties and salt certificates to maritime and border trade...
In this life, he won't take a single coin from the common people. He'll make sure the Ming Dynasty survives for another five hundred years.
