When we think of martial arts heroes in Chinese wuxia novels, the imagery is vivid: a lone swordsman walks into a roadside inn, devours a hearty meal, and tosses a gleaming silver ingot onto the table before striding off into the sunset—no change, no fuss, just style. But how true to history is this cinematic moment? Did ancient Chinese diners really pay for dumplings with chunks of silver, and was everyone this generous or reckless?
As romantic as it sounds, the reality of everyday transactions in ancient China was far less flamboyant, yet far more fascinating.
Silver Enters the Scene: Currency in Transition
Contrary to popular belief, silver was not always part of the Chinese economy. For much of ancient China’s history, especially prior to the Song dynasty (960–1279 AD), copper coins were the main currency in circulation. Silver only began to appear in market transactions during the Song period, and it wasn’t until the Ming and Qing dynasties (14th–20th centuries) that silver became the dominant medium of exchange.
This means that if you were dining out in the Tang dynasty or earlier and tried to pay with a silver ingot, the innkeeper might look at you as if you had tried to pay with a brick of gold—or worse, a rubber check.
Even in the Song dynasty, using silver in everyday transactions was rare, primarily because of its sheer value. A single tael (liǎng) of silver had immense purchasing power, equivalent to around 700–800 RMB in today’s currency. A 10-tael ingot, the more common denomination, was worth 7,000–8,000 RMB, and a 50-tael ingot could equate to nearly 40,000 RMB. That’s like paying for a bowl of noodles with a luxury watch.
So no, most people weren’t casually throwing silver bars around. In fact, silver ingots, or yuanbao, were primarily used for large-scale transactions such as land purchases, official bribes, dowries, and savings storage.
The Power of Small Silver: Enter the Fragment
What ancient Chinese actually used for daily purchases was not full silver ingots but broken or cut silver, known colloquially as suiyin (碎银子). These fragments varied in size and shape, having been clipped or shaved off from larger ingots. Since these pieces had no standardized weight, people had to bring along some specialized tools when heading to the market—or the tavern.
Scissors and Scales: The Tools of Everyday Trade
To properly use silver in the marketplace, a savvy shopper or traveling merchant needed two indispensable items:
- Silver Scissors (yín jiǎn): These weren’t your typical paper snippers. Silver scissors were built for leverage—short-bladed but long-handled, allowing the user to clip chunks from an ingot or previously cut silver fragment with minimal effort. The sturdy design also enabled users to test silver purity by examining the internal texture of the cut.
- Děngzi (戥子): The Precision Scale: A marvel of early measurement tools, the děngzi was a highly sensitive portable scale capable of measuring silver to the nearest li (厘), roughly 31.25 milligrams. This ensured fair trades, as both buyer and seller would weigh the silver chunk before finalizing the deal.
According to famed French historian Fernand Braudel, in his Civilization and Capitalism, 15th–18th Century, shoppers in early economies often carried small scissors and precision scales to slice and weigh precious metals on the spot. It wasn’t just a Chinese practice but a wider phenomenon in early economies lacking standardized coinage.
A Glimpse into Qing-Era Life: Dream of the Red Chamber
One of China’s greatest novels, Dream of the Red Chamber (Honglou Meng), offers glimpses into this silver-weighing culture. In Chapter 51, a servant named Sheyue (麝月) rummages through a drawer to find silver and a děngzi to weigh it, asking: “Which is the one-tael mark?” This shows how common—and essential—such transactions and tools were, even in aristocratic households.
A Sound Investment: The Wax Bell Trick
Cutting silver wasn’t just about making payments. It also served another clever purpose—testing purity. Unscrupulous vendors could tamper with silver by mixing in base metals like lead. Cutting into a silver piece would reveal telltale signs of forgery. This was an important defensive maneuver for anyone handling money, from merchants to innkeepers.
And then there were the thrifty folks—people who thought ahead. Frequent spenders often carried a small bell-shaped container tied to their waists, filled with wax. Every time they clipped silver, the tiny shavings that fell off were collected in the wax. Once a good amount accumulated, they would melt down the wax to reclaim the silver. In a time without banks or Venmo, even the tiniest savings mattered.
More Than Money: The Symbolism of Silver
While we often think of silver in purely economic terms, in ancient China, it carried deeper meaning. Silver was associated with status, trust, and practicality. The very presence of a person carrying a děngzi and silver scissors indicated they were a serious trader, someone who had the means and knowledge to engage in commerce. Unlike coinage, which was stamped and controlled by the state, silver’s value was intrinsic—based on weight and purity—giving it a universal appeal that transcended dynasties and borders.
This flexibility made it perfect for merchants operating across regions and cultures. By the Ming dynasty, China’s economy had become so reliant on silver that it began to draw in vast quantities from the New World via global trade routes. The famous “silver drain” from Spanish America to China via the Manila Galleons is one of the most significant examples of early globalization.
Why Wuxia Got It (Almost) Right
So why do wuxia heroes get to throw silver around like candy?
Well, for one, it looks cool. But there’s also a grain of truth: wealthy martial artists, nobles, or bounty hunters might have carried silver ingots not for buying meals but for travel expenses, bribes, or major trades. Plus, throwing down a 10-tael silver piece at an inn could be a deliberate power move—showing off wealth, dismissing concerns about money, or simply paying a month’s rent in advance.
However, the average citizen? Much more careful. They clipped, they weighed, and they saved every shaving. The world of historical finance was far more practical than poetic—but no less fascinating.