Chapter 666: Abolishing the Guard Stations

The assembled men exchanged glances, then silently lowered their heads again.

Zhang Weixian, Duke of Ying, fixed his eyes on the ground before him, took a firm step forward, and said respectfully, "Your Majesty, regarding this matter, your ministers have no particular opinions."

"That's good." Zhu Youxiao nodded and said with a smile, "I intend to reform the guard stations."

Upon hearing this, no one present showed any surprise.

The guard stations had always been a burden on the Great Ming—everyone knew this, and they had known it since the Jiajing era. It was just that no emperor had ever dared to touch the matter.

It was a great abscess that no one dared to lance. If left alone, one could survive for a while longer; but if the abscess were lanced, one might well bleed to death.

During the wokou troubles of the Jiajing years, the court had entertained such notions, for the guard stations had already rotted to the point of being unfit for battle. Yet in the end, the matter had fizzled out.

Under these circumstances, the court gave birth to a highly deformed military system—one in which the recruited-soldier system and the guard-station system ran in parallel.

When there was fighting, they used recruited soldiers; when there was none, they fell back on the guard stations. Later, another transformation occurred—the rise of the personal-guard system.

Officers trained their personal guards into battle-hardened troops, while the remaining hereditary military households were all put to farming and servitude, leaving the lower ranks of those households in dire straits, with desertions growing by the day. It could be said that the entire system teetered on the brink of collapse, and no one dared to touch it lightly.

But when the reigning emperor touched it, no one found it surprising. After all, the reigning emperor's prestige stood right here, and besides, the Great Ming was no longer the Great Ming of old—no one dared to act recklessly.

The northern frontier was secure, the Great Ming was at its zenith—who would dare to stir up trouble?

No one dared to resist when the Emperor dealt with anyone. How many people had been punished in the land audits? Who had dared to step forward and say anything?

The guard stations across the realm were also undergoing land audits, and quite a few people had been investigated—who dared to say anything about that?

So if the Emperor wanted to touch the guard stations, no one could stop him, and no one dared to try.

The eyes of everyone present covertly turned toward Zhang Weixian—he was the greatest beneficiary of the guard-station system.

But Zhang Weixian stood there calm and unmoving, utterly unperturbed.

In his heart, he understood perfectly well that this matter could not be stopped, so he might as well push it forward directly—doing so would, in turn, earn him some goodwill from the Emperor.

Besides, the guard stations were no longer something to rely on anyway. The path to wealth for the nobles at court lay in doing business with the Imperial Household Department; squeezing blood from the soldiers no longer appealed to them—what was that worth, a few taels?

A hundred-some thousand taels of silver a year wasn't much either. Some couldn't even get a share of that hundred-some thousand.

There wasn't much money to begin with, and with many people dividing it, what each received was only a pittance.

Run two trips to Joseon with the Imperial Household Department's merchant caravans, and the profits appeared. Run ten or eight trips a year, and that money ceased to count as money.

The nobles were not at all afraid of the guard-station reform now—what they feared was the Emperor refusing to do business with them.

Everyone now knew the Great Ming was fighting Japan, and the benefits there were even greater. Word had it there were many people, much land, and plenty of money. In a word, Japan was a fine place to make a fortune.

Everyone was rubbing their hands in eager anticipation—at a time like this, offending His Majesty over guard-station reform simply wasn't worth it.

As for the military authority of the guard stations—come now, when had it ever been yours?

Never mind the reigning emperor—even under previous emperors, which one had ever given military authority to the nobles?

It was simply impossible.

In the past, the civil officials had the final say; now His Majesty had the final say—that was all there was to it.

Especially under the present circumstances, with the Imperial Guard Corps overawing all directions, what use was the paltry military authority of the guard stations?

Those in the guard stations were nothing but a rabble—did you truly expect anything of them?

In this regard, Zhang Weixian understood exactly how these people thought, so he said nothing and did nothing.

"Then it's settled." Zhu Youxiao nodded and said, "Next, I intend to redraw several military regions across the Great Ming. Each military region will establish a command office, and a commander will be appointed to oversee all military affairs."

For the Great Ming as it stood now, there was simply no need to maintain so many troops. With the Great Ming's current military strength, there was no fear of anyone marching here, so the military-region system could now be proposed.

In Zhu Youxiao's planning, the Northeast Military Region had to exist. Besides the Northeast Military Region, there was also the Northwest Military Region—one south, one north—and a Capital Military Region.

Three military regions would completely divide the Nine Border Defense Lines into eastern, western, and central directions, under the management of three authorities. Additionally, a Nanjing Military Region would be established in Nanjing, overseeing the Jianghuai, Jiangnan, and Huguang areas.

Beyond that, Shandong was to have a military region, and Guangzhou was to have one as well. These two military regions were not solely for the army—they also covered the Imperial Navy.

Then there was the Southwest Military Region, overseeing Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan.

Glancing back at Wei Chao behind him, Zhu Youxiao said, "Hang it up."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Wei Chao hurriedly acknowledged, then hung up an enormous map behind him.

On it, the military regions Zhu Youxiao had described were already delineated.

This time, what Zhu Youxiao intended to accomplish was not merely guard-station reform, but also the separation of military and civil administration.

Local civil officials would no longer participate in military management. All troops would be uniformly managed by the Staff Office, with all matters submitted through the Staff Office and finally reported up to him.

Military forces in various localities were also forbidden from harassing the local populace. Specialized military courts would be established to enforce military law.

Separating military law from civil law—Zhu Youxiao planned to complete all these reforms within the next few years, expending great effort over the coming years to thoroughly sort everything out.

Once these matters were done, the Great Ming's military and civil administration would have no major problems left.

"Take a look at these military regions." Zhu Youxiao looked at the assembled men and said, "After you return, draw up a plan for how many troops each military region needs, and prepare a budget for roughly how much silver it will cost. All soldiers are to be recruited—from now on, the Great Ming will no longer have guard stations."

"All the land of the guard stations will be taken back and redistributed to those soldiers who no longer serve and to the hereditary military households, so that they may receive fields and settle down to farming in peace."

Everyone stared at the Emperor in shock.

Your previous ideas, we could all understand. But converting everything to recruited soldiers—how much money would that take? Does the court have that much silver?

This was also their greatest worry, yet they did not ask. For money was not their concern—the Staff Office did not handle such matters.

The ones to shell out first were the Ministry of Revenue. Even if they objected, let the Ministry of Revenue take it up with His Majesty. There was simply no need for those present to do so.

Making plans, preparing budgets, and executing them—that was what they were supposed to do.

Zhang Weixian rose and said respectfully, "Rest assured, Your Majesty—your ministers will get to work as soon as we return."

The troops recruited for each military region would certainly differ. For instance, the Shandong Military Region and the Guangdong Military Region would naturally have somewhat fewer troops, as they were meant to prepare for the navy; the Northeast did not need too many men, but their equipment had to be precise and sufficient; the Northwest was the same.

As for the Capital Military Region, whether to establish it or not was optional—just put it on the roster. After all, the Imperial Guard Corps was already here, and if such a military region truly existed, it would likely become a reserve force for the Imperial Guard Corps.

The Southwest Military Region would certainly need more troops, and their equipment would have to be of finer quality as well. There were too many messy affairs over there, and it also faced the various nations of Southeast Asia—who knew, they might even be called upon in future wars.

One should remember that the Great Ming still had a Duke of Qian in Yunnan. The reform might encounter some resistance, and the greatest resistance would likely come from the Duke of Qian. After all, in that region of Yunnan, the Duke of Qian had nearly become a king in all but name.

But Zhu Youxiao did not mind, for he believed they would obey. If they did not obey, he would simply have them killed.

The people at the Staff Office knew this was the tide of the times—though it could not be accomplished in a short while, it would certainly stir up a great uproar.

Many faces were grim, already scheming over what benefits they could extract from this.

After all, this affair appeared to offer tremendous benefits. Take these military district superintendents—that was no ordinary office.

They knew very well who the two superintendents serving the Emperor's own kin were. For the hereditary nobles, the temptation was immense—this was a chance to command troops, and at a high rank with real power in hand.

No one was unmoved, no one didn't want it; some were even already thinking of seeking an out-of-capital appointment.

The Staff Office's authority was also very heavy, but not everyone held such standing.

"Alright, go back and deliberate properly, and produce a report as soon as possible." Zhu Youxiao looked at the men and said directly.

The Staff Office's response left Zhu Youxiao somewhat surprised.

The Staff Office was increasingly resembling the Grand Council of later ages. The Grand Council differed greatly from the Grand Secretariat in that its members only received and executed imperial edicts. Though nominally established to deliberate on military matters, in reality they had no standing whatsoever to question the Emperor's decisions—no such right.

The men of the Staff Office were now doing much the same—whatever Zhu Youxiao instructed, they did.

After the men returned, the news was let out.

No one had expected the reigning Emperor to be like this, nor had anyone expected the reigning Emperor to do such a thing.

Many people grew excited—this was an opportunity.

Whether civil officials or military officers, all felt this chance had come by no small fortune.

Military officers wanted to advance further; some civil officials wanted to switch tracks. After all, their forte was martial affairs, and they had already reached the end of the civil official road—advancing further was difficult. But if they could secure one of these posts, then all bets were off; they were destined to take a step forward.

Zhu Youxiao paid no heed to any of this. It simply couldn't be avoided; all he could do was let things run their course.

No matter the era, the situation would always be thus.

Beyond these men, personnel at the various regional guard stations also began to panic.

Especially the commanders of the local guard stations—originally their posts were hereditary, and this time it was plain to see they were going to be abolished.

They had no choice but to panic.