Chapter 2746: The Capital (Part 102)

By comparison, the Stone Elder Group's approach to organizing and executing intelligence work had an almost modern quality to it.

With knowledge comes rapid learning.

Reflecting on the intelligence the Foreign Intelligence Bureau had recently gathered, Xu Ke noted that some perceptive individuals within the Ming had begun recognizing the Kun's advantages. Their understanding, of course, remained largely confined to the technical level—formidable ships and fierce cannons. They couldn't yet appreciate the Senate's institutional strengths. But even acknowledging and learning from technical aspects alone could yield tremendous progress.

Wouldn't it be splendid if the Ming launched a "Kun Affairs Movement"?

Xu Ke's thinking diverged from many of his fellow Senators. He didn't support technology blockades. The Senate wasn't merely a profit-driven enterprise—they still held to the belief of "transforming heaven and earth."

Relying solely on the Senate's power, achieving this goal might take over a century. But if they could export culture, knowledge, technology, and ideas to the Ming—allowing them to emulate the Senate's methods, open factories, establish schools, cultivate talent—the resources available to the Senate would grow exponentially. Perhaps the process could be shortened considerably.

"The run didn't work?"

"No, sir," Xu Yong said quietly. "Only the first day saw crowds. The second and third days were much lighter. I made discreet inquiries—Shanxi House lost their nerve at the last moment and never went through with it."

Zhou Lezhi's expression grew grave. "What does Manager Shen say?"

"He's telling everyone he's ill now. Hiding in the bank, refusing all visitors. I was worried Shen's establishment might be under observation, so I didn't dare approach him."

"Correct—you're thinking clearly." Zhou Lezhi nodded. "Someone at the forefront like him would certainly be under Kun surveillance. Regardless, the run has failed. He's no longer important. Let him stay hidden for now."

"Yes, sir."

"The Leng Ningyun affair has collapsed. With our mission incomplete, the Kun will certainly retaliate in force. Even here at the Emperor's feet, it's probably unsafe. From now on, stay away from Lord Wang's residence. Let the courier handle all communications. Understood?"

"I understand!" Xu Yong affirmed.

"Good. You may go. Be careful."

Xu Yong hesitated, then said quietly: "Sir, word comes from Lord Liu that the Brocade Guard is secretly investigating your background..."

"Oh?" Zhou Lezhi frowned. "Do we know why?"

"Lord Liu isn't certain. He only knows the order came from the Brocade Guard's ranking officer, Lord Wu. He says he'll work on it from his end and advises you to keep a low profile these days."

"Tell him I understand. I'll rest here for the time being. I won't go anywhere."

After Xu Yong withdrew, Zhou Lezhi found himself quite pleased with Liu Sha's young apprentice. The boy was clever, yet lacked the shallow vanity that often afflicted bright children. In matters of importance, he was remarkably steady. Liu Sha had told him: This Xu Yong is excellent material.

Perhaps his master had once seen the same potential in him? Zhou Lezhi couldn't help feeling a touch of pride at the thought.

Thinking of his master brought Zhou Lezhi back to the present danger. The capital was no longer safe for him. Though he'd made careful arrangements to conceal his identity, the fact that he practiced medicine outside with Wang Yehao as his patron wasn't exactly secret among the capital's powerful families. Of course, this alone proved nothing about any special relationship with Lord Wang. After all, hundreds of people claimed various connections to Lord Wang. He was merely one among them.

But while this might fool the Brocade Guard, it might not deceive the Kun. They were notoriously cunning and ruthless, forcing him to exercise extreme caution. His move away from Chongxiao Temple was meant to avoid drawing attention. Before relocating, he'd already noticed suspicious figures appearing near the temple.

His current lodging lay near Guangji Temple in Mingyufang, in the western part of the city. This area bordered the Imperial City, surrounded mostly by temples and government warehouses. With its wide spaces and sparse population, it was remarkably peaceful. He planned to remain hidden here while sorting through events, using the time to quietly review everything since he'd entered Lord Wang's service.

Though Leng Ningyun had escaped, Zhou Lezhi hadn't abandoned hope for peace negotiations. The court attacking the Kun would be tantamount to suicide—this had always been his conviction. But now, having lost the trump card of Leng Ningyun, the "two-pronged approach" was finished. He could only seek another path—first blocking the anti-Kun war machine from gaining momentum at court.

One day toward the end of the first month of Chongzhen 10 (February 1637), the air still carried the acrid smell of spent firecrackers, and red and brown casings still littered the streets. The capital's street vendors had already begun their early morning bustle. Hawking calls from the stalls rang out endlessly. Pedestrians continued discussing various rumors about the great Delong case. This was the biggest piece of gossip in the capital these days, the most relished topic among common folk in their leisure hours. In all ages and places, people have always treated "major affairs" unrelated to themselves as entertainment.

The Forbidden City, outside Qianqing Palace.

Yang Sichang adjusted his official attire and, guided by a eunuch, strode into the hall. The butterfly of history had flapped its wings with the transmigrators' arrival. The Ming's internal and external troubles had grown more severe than in the original timeline. Thus, unlike before, he hadn't refused the Emperor's dispensation from mourning three times, returning to the capital several months earlier to present his pacification strategy to the Chongzhen Emperor. Today he would lay this plan before the Son of Heaven.

This was the moment he had long awaited and carefully prepared for. His father's conviction and his colleagues' ostracism hadn't dampened his fierce loyalty to Emperor and country. From his performance as a provincial governor to his diligent service since arriving in the capital, he had proven both his loyalty and ability to this young sovereign. Today, in this great hall, as ruler and minister together, they would chart the future of this declining empire. He believed the Emperor's determination to govern with diligence was his greatest support. With his talents, he would surely pacify the realm and restore the Ming. Whether roving bandits, Eastern Barbarians, or the Kun—none could stand in his way.

After the formalities concluded, the Chongzhen Emperor spoke:

"Since We assumed the throne, though We have drawn close to worthy ministers and distanced petty men, eradicated the Wei traitors and rectified the court, internal and external troubles have increased rather than decreased. At court, factions attack one another. Regional governors either practice self-preservation while accomplishing nothing, or sit in their positions like rotten wood, knowing nothing of governance. Few capable ministers remain to share the Emperor's burdens. In the north, the Eastern Barbarians frequently raid our passes, plundering Our subjects. Within our borders, roving bandits run rampant in all directions, disturbing the people's peace. The foreign Kun have seized Liangguang and frequently raid the Fujian and Zhejiang coasts, usurping imperial titles. Recently, We received a report from Southern Zhili that three Kun fast ships raided Songjiang, eyeing the Yangtze, and an entire naval garrison couldn't repel them. This is most disappointing. We have long heard of your talents and have specially summoned you before the throne, ending your mourning period, precisely to deliberate on campaigns against the Eastern Barbarians, roving bandits, and the Kun. As long as these rebellious traitors remain, the Ming realm cannot know peace."

The transmigrators, armed with their knowledge from the original timeline, possessed a clear understanding of the late Ming situation: the fundamental cause of the crisis was fiscal bankruptcy. The causes of bankruptcy were manifold—the Little Ice Age's natural disasters on one hand, intensifying land concentration on another, and an antiquated fiscal and tax system at the root.

Given the Ming's territory, population, products, and economic conditions, an inefficient ruling apparatus maintaining control shouldn't have posed insurmountable difficulties. The Little Ice Age's sudden onset shattered this fragile balance. Peasants at the bottom, tormented by natural disasters and plagues, could no longer bear their heavy tax burdens and went bankrupt in droves. The desolate countryside became fertile ground for peasant armies. The court's already inefficient and corrupt fiscal system thus fell into deadlock. Fiscal bankruptcy caused administrative and military capabilities to decline sharply, followed by rebellion among the frontier tributaries... Combined with pervasive official corruption, the Ming Dynasty spiraled into the abyss under this vicious cycle.

The discerning people of the time, Yang Sichang among them, naturally couldn't remain completely unaware of these problems. But eliminating abuses meant confronting vested interests. The Ming's gentry and imperial clan groups were enormous. Without rulers possessing the courage and insight for radical surgery, no one dared touch them. The Emperor worked diligently and earnestly, yet remained extremely sensitive to "court opinion." Given such hesitation, attempting sweeping "reforms" would be suicidal. Yang Sichang understood these risks keenly and thus avoided such issues. In his view, the Ming possessed vast territories and a large population, with abundant resources. With diligent governance, "restoration" remained possible. Even if they couldn't recreate a "prosperous era," at worst they could maintain the status quo.

Now he spoke solemnly:

"Since ancient times, loyalty and filial piety cannot both be fully served. By Your Majesty's grace, this subject shall dedicate my life in service and my death in gratitude, to repay Your Majesty's trust."

With that, he kowtowed in the hall.

The Chongzhen Emperor nodded. "Rise. Speak your piece."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. As Minister Yu said, 'A strong army rests on sufficient food; resisting foreign threats begins with internal security.' Without a strong army, bandits cannot be swept away; without sufficient grain, the army cannot be strengthened. Today's regional garrisons have long gone unpaid. This subject has observed the Jizhen garrison and Capital armies: of combat-ready soldiers, not one in ten is usable. Military households sell sons and daughters to survive. Such exhausted troops cannot match fierce enemies. Moreover, when soldiers fall into poverty, they often become bandits themselves. This subject has heard that among the roving bandits, many soldiers from the Yansui, Guyuan, Ningxia, and Gansu garrisons have mixed in—even sons of military families have joined the rebels."

"It all comes down to four words: troops, horses, money, grain. But raising funds is easy to speak of, hard to accomplish in practice." At this, the Chongzhen Emperor sighed.

Four words, but truly just one: money.

Throughout history, the collapse of any political entity begins with fiscal collapse. The Ming was no exception. Arrears to garrisons everywhere had been commonplace since his grandfather Wanli's reign. Only in wartime, to motivate troops, would they pay some back wages. As for combat rewards—frankly, the Ming's military rewards had always been meager. Compared to systematic spoils-distribution organizations like the Eight Banners, their incentive system wasn't in the same league. And now, disbursing over 100,000 taels before major battles to reward troops and replenish supplies was already stretching the Ministry of Revenue to its limits.

(End of Chapter)