Chapter 166: The commercial tax must be levied hard by us eunuchs

Now in the imperial court, the eunuch faction held great power, but the Donglin Faction had not yet been completely beaten down. To put it elegantly, they were lying dormant, ready at any moment to leap out from the shadows and bite Wei Zhongxian.

If Ma Chenglie and those Donglin hypocrites got tangled up together, the consequences would be unimaginable.

First, the Nan'ao naval force's future achievements—such as coordinating with Liaodong and repelling the red barbarians—would all be credited to the Donglin Faction, greatly boosting their prestige in both the court and among the people.

Second, the private ships of Donglin families could, under the protection of Ma Chenglie's navy, trade in the Eastern and Southern Seas, raking in profits hand over fist, and even bypassing the Ministry of Revenue that he controlled, directly using maritime trade silver to transfuse blood to Sun Chengzong.

Third, with the Donglin Faction as his backing, Ma Chenglie would have a patron in the court, making it even harder to smear him or force him into rebellion in the future.

At this thought, Wei Zhongxian immediately realized that his position and Ma Chenglie's had actually swapped places.

Before, Wei Zhongxian had thought of Ma Chenglie as an disobedient hunting dog that needed to be trained with meat and iron chains.

Now, Wei Zhongxian instead had to curry favor with and win over Ma Chenglie, making him touch only himself, and not go touching that pack of mangy dogs of the Donglin Faction.

This—this isn't right, is it?

The positions had swapped so quickly that Wei Zhongxian could hardly believe it.

He racked his brain again and again for a way to break the deadlock, only to find that currying favor and winning over truly was the best strategy.

Even if he couldn't be brought into the fold, at least he wouldn't be allowed to lean toward the Donglin Faction.

The middle strategy was sanction and deterrence.

Order the officials of Fujian and Guangdong to restrict Ma Chenglie's maritime and overland trade. At the same time, attempt to build a naval force loyal to the eunuch faction to counter him.

Even if the Great Ming court had money, it would be nearly impossible to accomplish.

Using the Ming bureaucracy to cut off smuggling in the southeastern seas was even more out of the question.

The lower strategy was to smear him and force him into rebellion.

Fabricate charges and label Ma Chenglie as a "rebel" or "sea bandit."

If Ma Chenglie were to raise the banner of "cleansing the court of evil ministers," cut off the grain transport, and sail his warships toward the capital region—whether the court could suppress the rebellion aside, Wei Zhongxian's own head would be the first thing he'd lose.

Wei Zhongxian sat silently in his chair, thinking dejectedly for a long time.

The crux of the problem still lay in the strength of the Nan'ao naval force.

Qian Zhong's battle report was written in extreme detail, and everything in it was written truthfully, without coercion or alteration—that point had already been confirmed by those few young eunuchs.

The question was, were those dozens of ships the Nan'ao naval force defeated really as formidable as the battle report claimed?

Were the Fujian-Guangdong navy and the Denglai navy truly no match for them?

Although Wei Zhongxian knew that Ma Chenglie daring to play this hand meant he had absolute confidence in his own strength.

But Wei Zhongxian and Wang Tiqian were neither of them men who understood warfare, and both harbored wishful thinking.

"Among my Great Ming's naval commanders, who are skilled at fighting battles?" Wei Zhongxian asked.

Wang Tiqian knew what Wei Zhongxian wanted to ask, and was momentarily at a loss for words.

If one spoke of skilled naval commanders, Shen Yourong had the deepest seniority and the most distinguished war record—but that man was a hard bone through and through, and he utterly loathed the eunuch faction.

Yuan Keli, the Governor of Denglai, counted as one—this man had close ties to the Donglin Faction and was quite respected by those hypocrites.

Yu Zigao counted as half—he had no obvious factional leanings, but he currently served as Regional Commander of Fujian, too far away for convenient contact.

Counting this way and that, only Mao Wenlong on Pidao was suitable to consult.

"Mao Wenlong is the only suitable one," Wang Tiqian replied.

Wei Zhongxian pointed at the pile of battle reports: "Send someone to the island immediately, ask Mao Wenlong what he thinks of this battle report."

Ten days later, the military camp on Pidao.

Mao Wenlong held the battle report in his hand, and the more he read, the more alarmed he grew. His heart pounded thump-thump, and cold sweat seeped from his palms, forehead, and back.

He thought to himself: "I stole the credit for the Zhenjiang Victory, and now retribution has finally come. Ai! Wang Huazhen, you've ruined me!"

The powerful cannon ships described in the battle report—weren't they none other than Battalion Commander He's cannon ships?

So the Zhenjiang Victory had actually been achieved by the Nan'ao naval force!

Now the court was showing this battle report to Mao Wenlong—clearly they had already investigated the situation and were preparing to escort him back to the capital for trial.

Considering that Mao Wenlong was still ostensibly the hero of the Zhenjiang Victory, they hadn't issued an imperial edict, only sent a eunuch to deliver the order.

The eunuch said: "Regional Commander Mao, the Grand Elder asks what you make of this battle report?"

Mao Wenlong sighed dejectedly: "This humble officer has no defense to offer, and willingly accepts execution—I only beg the court not to forget the people of Pidao."

The eunuch was stunned. He had been entrusted by Wei Zhongxian to ask Mao Wenlong's opinion of the battle report.

He never expected that after reading it, Mao Wenlong would say something like "willingly accepts execution"?

Mao Wenlong was a man who would slaughter several hundred Jianzhou barbarians at the slightest provocation—for such a man to have no will to resist against the Nan'ao naval force, wasn't that saying the Nan'ao naval force was several times stronger than the Jianzhou barbarians?

This—this Nan'ao naval force was actually this strong?

For a moment the eunuch felt it was utterly absurd, and hurriedly pressed: "Regional Commander, have you read clearly? The Nan'ao naval force merely defeated a few dozen sea bandit cannon ships—are they truly that formidable?"

Mao Wenlong recalled the horrific scene of the bombardment he had witnessed at Zhenjiang city that day, combined with the islanders' descriptions, and nodded: "The Nan'ao naval force has sturdy ships and powerful cannons—they are indeed that formidable."

Then he picked up the battle report and said with a bitter smile: "Although the report doesn't state it explicitly, judging from the speed and range of travel, this band of so-called 'sea bandits' should be Li Dan's forces. The Nan'ao naval force utterly defeated them without losing a single ship of their own—truly formidable beyond compare."

The eunuch found it utterly absurd. The way Mao Wenlong spoke, Ma Chenglie sounded like he was invincible under heaven—he was just a naval force from a southeastern corner, wasn't this too exaggerated?

Hearing the eunuch's doubt, Mao Wenlong laughed: "Fighting at sea is different from fighting on land—having more men and more ships doesn't give you the advantage. The Nan'ao naval force has big ships and many cannons of tremendous power; one of their ships is worth a hundred or more of an ordinary navy's."

Since the matter of his stolen military credit had been uncovered by the court, Mao Wenlong might as well make the Nan'ao naval force sound even more formidable.

That way the court would believe he hadn't had the nerve to steal the Nan'ao naval force's achievements, and that the submitted documents had all been altered by Wang Huazhen.

The eunuch was dumbfounded. He instinctively felt Mao Wenlong was exaggerating wildly, but since he didn't understand naval warfare and couldn't say what was wrong, he could only continue asking: "Then how does the Nan'ao naval force compare to the Denglai navy?"

The eunuch had originally wanted to first ask how the Nan'ao naval force compared to Mao Wenlong's own forces, but since Mao Wenlong had already said he "willingly accepts execution," there was no need to ask.

Mao Wenlong vaguely sensed that the eunuch's repeated questioning about the Nan'ao naval force's strength—without asking about his crime of claiming false credit—seemed to indicate a wariness of the Nan'ao naval force.

Perhaps offering advice on this front could give him a chance to live. After pondering for a long while, he said: "The Denglai navy alone would find it difficult to withstand them."

Beyond the Denglai navy, the nearest naval force was the Pidao navy. The implication of these words was to ask the court to spare Mao Wenlong's life, so that if the Nan'ao naval force ever sailed north, there would still be someone to help resist them.

The eunuch asked again: "Then how does the Fujian-Guangdong navy compare to the Nan'ao naval force?"

Mao Wenlong sneered dismissively: "The Fujian and Guangdong navies are far inferior to the Denglai navy, and even less a match for the Nan'ao navy."

Seeing the eunuch still had doubts, Mao Wenlong analyzed in detail: "The Denglai navy, prepared to counter the Jianzhou barbarians, is well-equipped, stocked with countless firearms, numerous large warships, and even Folangji cannons."

"Governor Yuan Zhongcheng, along with Old General Shen, are both men of great talent. With these two holding command at Denglai, and this humble officer coordinating from outside, only then can we fight the Nan'ao navy."

The eunuch had no further doubts, took his leave of Mao Wenlong, and returned to the capital to report.

Seeing the eunuch depart in haste without raising the matter of punishing him, Mao Wenlong breathed a long sigh of relief.

Ten days later, in the imperial city.

Wei Zhongxian stammered: "He really said that?"

The messenger eunuch said: "Word for word, all personally spoken by Commander Mao; this servant has not altered a single character."

Wang Tiqian waved a hand: "You may go."

Wei Zhongxian slumped despondently into his chair. Mao Wenlong's claim that he and the Denglai navy together could hold off the Nan'ao navy — that might be doubtful.

But that the Fujian and Guangdong navies were no match for the Nan'ao navy was already set in stone.

After all, according to Mao Wenlong, the Nan'ao navy was several times more formidable than the Jianzhou barbarians!

The Jianzhou barbarians still had Shanhai Pass and the Great Wall to hold them back — what was there to hold back the Nan'ao navy?

Once Ma Chenglie rebelled and his fleet sailed into the Yangtze, would that not be like entering uninhabited territory?

If the grain transport were cut off, Wei Zhongxian's head would soon be cut off too.

Wang Tiqian: "Ancestor, it is time to make a decision."

Wei Zhongxian said dejectedly: "Enough. Withdraw all those schemes prepared against Ma Chenglie. Keep his son's post in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, but the man need not come to the capital."

"Yes." Wang Tiqian hesitated a moment, then said, "Ancestor, should we perhaps try to win him over again?"

Ma Chenglie had killed Wei Zhongxian's man, yet Wei still had to court him — the feeling was as nauseating as swallowing a fly, but the situation demanded it, and he had no choice but to bow his head.

"Tell the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War that from now on, Ma Chenglie's troops' pay and provisions are not to be docked — issue them in full. Find people in the court and in the provinces to recommend him for promotion."

Wei Zhongxian thought a moment, then added: "Since the Denglai navy is so important to resisting the Jianzhou barbarians, from now on supply their pay, provisions, weapons, and armor in full as well. And plant some of our people inside. A few days ago Yuan Keli requested silver to reverse-engineer red barbarian cannons, didn't he? Approve that too."

Wang Tiqian understood that Wei Zhongxian wanted to cultivate a navy to counter Nan'ao Island, but the court's finances were so strained — where would the silver come from?

Hearing Wang Tiqian's concern, Wei Zhongxian laughed: "Don't the grand secretaries have ways of raising silver? Delay what can be delayed, levy more where more can be levied."

Wang Tiqian hesitated a moment, then still ventured: "Ancestor, the situation in the northwest is also not optimistic. If we keep apportioning more levies, I fear popular uprisings are imminent."

Wei Zhongxian felt a throbbing pain at his temples. After pondering for a long while, he gritted his teeth and said: "Then levy commercial taxes. Those Donglin hypocrites talk endlessly of state and country — it's time they bled too. Send tax supervisors to the customs houses throughout Jiangnan!"

Customs houses were institutions that collected transit tolls, existing since the Xuande era, but enforcement had been lax and rates low.

By sending trusted eunuchs to the customs houses, Wei Zhongxian could supervise collection and raise rates — and since it wasn't a new policy, it required no Grand Secretariat deliberation, no ministry deliberation, and no direct palace edict. Procedurally, it was far more convenient.

Beyond customs houses, commercial taxes could also be collected through market taxes, stall taxes, workshop taxes, and mining taxes. The methods were many and varied.

It could line his own pockets, generate revenue for the court, and strike at the Donglin hypocrites — three birds with one stone.

Wei Zhongxian laughed sinisterly: "Tell the lads — collect with a heavy hand, for your master!"

While Wei Zhongxian was busy dealing with the death of Qian Zhong.

At the Qianjiang Bay docks on Nan'ao Island.

Lin Qian was instructing Lü Zhou and José, who were about to set sail south to the South Seas: "This voyage, we seek no profit — only to establish a teak purchasing channel. If we could set up a lumber mill in Jiaozhi, that would be best. Also, on the return trip, don't bring too many trade goods — fill half the cargo holds with grain."

Lü Zhou nodded in acknowledgment.

José found it somewhat strange: "Helmsman, Jiaozhi has plenty of fine goods — ivory, rhino horn, gems, all treasures of every kind. And we're not short of grain right now — what's the point of bringing back so much?"

Lü Zhou frowned: "Old José, when the helmsman gives an order, you and I just obey."

José muttered: "I just worry about the helmsman losing money on the trade, that's all."

Lin Qian smiled: "Don't worry, we won't lose. Grain is a strategic resource — the more the better. It's not just about having enough to eat."

"Yes!" Lü and José clasped their fists together, then boarded the ship and left the harbor.

Lin Qian watched the fleet depart. This voyage had fewer merchant ships and warships than the one to Hirado — after all, unfamiliar territory meant he dared not stake too much of his fortune. Better to survey the market first.

Behind him, Geng Wu reported: "Helmsman, the first batch of one thousand dan of grain has arrived in Zhejiang."

"Mm." Lin Qian nodded.

In truth, Lin Qian hadn't told the whole reason for buying grain.

In recent years, the weather had grown increasingly cold, Jiangnan's grain harvests had declined year after year, and major floods and droughts struck frequently, with more and more disaster refugees.

This year, for instance, Chuzhou Prefecture in Zhejiang had suffered flooding, with grain production plummeting — some counties saw total crop failure, and countless people were displaced from their homes.

Of course, to the Great Ming such a famine was nothing major. Not only did the government provide poor relief, but the Liaodong levy was still being increased.

Now, approaching the start of spring, was the time when old grain was nearly exhausted and new grain had not yet come — the gap between harvests. Chuzhou Prefecture was already showing signs of refugees spilling outward, and even Taizhou and Wenzhou Prefectures had people starving to death and fleeing famine.

Since Lin Qian had the means, he naturally wanted to stockpile more grain and, in passing, relieve the disaster.

Pragmatically speaking, maintaining stability along the southeastern coast also benefited the growth of his power.

From an emotional standpoint, the fleeing refugees were truly pitiable — gnawing tree bark, eating wild grass, selling their sons and daughters, even exchanging children for food were all commonplace. From the perspective of one's heart, if one aspires to seize the realm, one must first hold the realm's people in one's heart.

To watch the common folk starve to death while he hid on his island feasting on meat and fish — how was that different from the feudal vermin of the capital?

One thousand dan of grain was a drop in the bucket, but it was still better than doing nothing at all.

Lin Qian instructed: "Send word to Dongning Island — whatever surplus venison they have these next few months, ship it all here. Use the hawk ships. The more the better."

"Yes." Geng Wu pulled out his notebook and wrote it down.

On this voyage to Jiaozhi, the latitude span of the route was not great. If all went smoothly, on the return the fleet could sail north then east, using the crosswinds to come back against the monsoon.

That way, even more refugees could be saved.

A little over ten days after the new year, a new imperial decree arrived at Nan'ao, promoting Ma Chenglie to Golden Guard General and conferring upon him the title of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent.

Upon receiving it, Ma Chenglie was both excited and worried, and immediately went to the island to consult with the helmsman.

In the main hall of the General's Residence on Nan'ao Island, Lin Qian sat in the seat of honor, sipping tea.

Ma Chenglie sat below, as if sitting on needles, and beside him sat Scholar Zhou — the only two men under Lin Qian's command who truly understood the ways of the Great Ming's officialdom.

During this period, Lin Qian had been reading books like the *Register of Officials* and had gained a general understanding of the Great Ming's official system.

The Golden Mace General title newly conferred upon Ma Chenglie was an upgrade from his previous rank of second-grade Galloping Cavalry General, which was still within normal practice.

But the title of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent was rather thought-provoking.

This was originally a title of the Eastern Palace, initially serving as tutor to the crown prince, but by the late Ming period it had become an honorary title, similar to Senior Guardian of the Heir Apparent, Junior Tutor of the Heir Apparent, and so on.

These honorary Eastern Palace titles were collectively known as the Three Dukes and Three Solitaires.

Only those with great merit to the court could obtain them, and they were generally bestowed only upon high-ranking officials—for instance, Qi Jiguang and Yu Qian had both been awarded the title of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent.

Although Ma Chenglie nominally had the "Great Victory at Macao" to his name, his accumulated merits fell far short of warranting the title of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent.

If he accepted this office without deserving it, would that not be proclaiming to the court and the public that Ma Chenglie was being elevated and sheltered by Wei Zhongxian?

This move—Old Dog Wei must have found the hard approach ineffective and switched to the soft one. His tricks truly knew no end.

Lin Qian gave a cold snort and set down his teacup.

Ma Chenglie immediately said: "Helmsman, rest assured, I have already submitted a memorial graciously declining."

Lin Qian said flatly: "For such a great honor, protocol dictates that one must submit a memorial of refusal—Shang Lu, for instance, submitted his *Memorial Declining Promotion*. Your memorial can hardly escape that convention either, can it?"

The temptation of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent was too great, and Ma Chenglie had indeed harbored some thoughts of accepting it. Only when he saw the Helmsman's displeasure did he bring up the memorial of resignation—he hadn't expected to be seen through at a glance.

Ma Chenglie's eyes widened, wondering when Lin Qian had become so knowledgeable about officialdom's rules.

Lin Qian said: "Such memorials of refusal are generally submitted multiple times. Next time you submit one, write a private letter to Wei Zhongxian, saying that you do not take sides between the Donglin Faction and the eunuch faction, that you dare not accept the title of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent, and thanking Eunuch Wei for his appreciation—you should understand how to phrase it more mildly."

Ma Chenglie clasped his hands and said: "Helmsman, rest assured, this subordinate understands."

Lin Qian warned: "Commander Ma, you must not think that being granted the title of Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent is a good thing. Once you accept it, when the eunuch faction falls in the future, it will come due."

"This subordinate will bear that firmly in mind."

Lin Qian picked up his teacup again.

Continuing to oppose Wei Zhongxian like this was no solution either. Moreover, after the Junior Guardian affair, Lin Qian realized that Wei Zhongxian had many underhanded tricks.

He had dodged the Junior Guardian move this time, but there was no guarantee he would see through the next one.

Fortunately, Lin Qian still had Ma Chenglie as a cover in the court, and Wei Zhongxian's open blades and hidden arrows were currently all aimed at Ma Chenglie.

If he mishandled the response, there was still one chance to shed the cover and step onto the political stage under the identity of "He Ping."

However, Ma Chenglie was only a buffer—far from a foolproof arrangement.

Lin Qian also lacked the energy to engage in court intrigue with Wei Zhongxian. The best approach was to find a patron in the court for the Nan'ao forces, and let that patron contend with Wei Zhongxian.

This patron force could not belong to either the eunuch faction or the Donglin Faction.

It could not be too upright—it needed to understand flexibility, or else before it could withstand Wei Zhongxian, it might devour Lin Qian first.

It could not be too low in rank and influence, or it would have no effect.

Nor could it be too prominent, or with Lin Qian's current strength, he could not even reach it.

As for the method of obtaining this force's support—if binding through maritime trade interests, it could only bind Donglin Faction members.

It could only be through marriage alliance, and it must be Lin Qian's principal wife.

But marriage alliances would bring a host of new problems—for instance, the wife's family could not be too powerful, and there could be no risk of consort clan interference.

In short, although there were many official families in the Great Ming, those satisfying all the above conditions were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, and even if they did qualify, they might not have a daughter of suitable age.

In Lin Qian's view, for a man like him seeking a marriage partner, the essential qualities in descending order of priority should be: family background, moral character, capability, and appearance.

There were many with good family backgrounds, but none with suitable ones.

Settling for second best—in this era, men and women could not easily come into contact, and the moral character and capability learned through matchmakers' words were probably extremely unreliable.

Then only appearance remained. A "good appearance" in a matchmaker's mouth largely meant a "face that bears sons"—in other words, it had little to do with actual beauty; the key was whether the facial features promised male offspring. If she could bear sons, that was a good appearance.

So listening to a matchmaker's nonsense was worse than asking one's own good brothers.

Thinking of this, Lin Qian said half-jokingly: "In the two provinces of Fujian and Guangdong, are there any beautiful unmarried women?"

Scholar Zhou knew Lin Qian was not talking about concubines to be taken. Hearing this, he was startled, then frowned in deep thought.

In this era, ritual law was deeply ingrained in people's hearts. Places like Nan'ao Island, where women turned the natural order upside down, were truly rare.

Especially for women of great households who matched Lin Qian's status, ritual law was even stricter—women never leaving the inner chambers was completely the norm.

In such an environment, for a reputation of beauty to spread, either the household was lax in its governance, or she was truly beautiful beyond compare.

Thus, it was no wonder that Scholar Zhou, far removed from official circles, did not know.

Even Ma Chenglie, who held high office and had close personal friendships with many Fujian and Guangdong officials, was not very clear on the matter either.

Seeing the two men racking their brains, Lin Qian laughed: "Never mind, I was just asking casually."

Ma Chenglie said apologetically: "If the Helmsman has any instructions, this subordinate will have my wife make inquiries among the various prefectures of Fujian and Guangdong."

Lin Qian smiled and declined.

Even if there truly were a beautiful candidate, Lin Qian could not marry her.

Given his position, the principal wife he took must greatly benefit the development of his forces. Beauty was the cheapest commodity—he was not so foolish as that.

As things stood, there was no suitable external marriage candidate, so the alliance could only be found internally. Marrying into the family of a core subordinate was undoubtedly the best choice.

Unfortunately, all of Lin Qian's men came from humble origins, without families or clans—even finding a marriage alliance partner was not easy.

Moreover, the brothers currently got along harmoniously; rashly forming a marriage alliance that broke that balance would actually be for the worse.

At that moment, Geng Wu walked in from outside the main hall, strode quickly to Lin Qian's side, and whispered in his ear: "Helmsman, the brothers have captured a band of Tartars. They've already been interrogated—they were headed to Macao to buy cannons."

Lin Qian asked: "Were there any other ships heading south?"

"No, they only sent one."

"Mm. Strengthen patrols of the Nan'ao waters these coming months—send out all the hawk ships."

"Yes." Geng Wu withdrew.

Scholar Zhou asked worriedly: "Have the red-haired barbarians stirred up trouble again?"

Lin Qian shook his head: "They're Tartars, heading south to buy cannons from the Portuguese."

After Lin Qian bombarded Zhenjiang City with cannons, any Tartar with half a brain should have understood the power of artillery.

So since then, Lin Qian had strengthened patrols of the waters around Nan'ao, guarding strictly against any Tartar move southward.

Even if some Tartars managed to slip through Nan'ao Island's blockade and reached Macao, they would discover in despair that the Xiashanglao Cannon Foundry flat-out refused to sell cannons to the Jianzhou barbarians.

Not only would they refuse to sell, the foundry would immediately report the matter to the garrison troops stationed in Macao, who would deal with it via the soldiers aboard the Voyager.

These were rules Lin Qian had established long ago.

Even if the Tartars got lucky and truly obtained cannons in Macao, and even managed to escape Macao, they would still have to pass Nan'ao on their way north.

They might slip past the Nan'ao naval patrol once, but never a second time.

With these three layers of protection, Lin Qian was confident that the Tartars could never obtain a single cannon in Macao.

When Grand Secretary Yuan later used red barbarian cannons to bombard Liaodong relentlessly without ever fearing retaliation, he would have Lin Qian's strict defenses to thank — as the saying goes, the best warriors win without glorious feats, and this was exactly such a case.

"Oh, right!" Ma Chenglie clapped his hands. "My wife once mentioned to me that Grand Secretary Ye's granddaughter is a rare orchid of the Xie family, with a brilliance clear as moonlight!"

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen