Chapter 290: The Eleventh Month

In Chuigong Hall, Guo Wei, Wang Jun, Shang Hongqian, Bai Wenke, and State Finance Commissioner Wang Zhang were all present.

"Starting from the first month of the second year of Qianyou, the imperial army's salaries will be distributed according to this pay scale. Announce it to the entire army!" Liu Chengyou personally pressed the imperial seal onto a document, glanced around at the assembled ministers, and spoke.

Though his expression was calm, the pressure in his heart had grown once more. Re-establishing the imperial army's pay scale was yet another strategy to soothe military morale. From the Chief Commanders of the two commands on down, both salary in cash and grain rations were increased. Within the imperial army, although the number of regular soldiers had been reduced, auxiliary soldiers still required pay—after this decrease and increase, military expenditure had actually risen.

And this was under the condition of running a poor state frugally. Take the Imperial Guard Commander as an example: his monthly salary was only 150 strings of cash and 20 dan of grain—truly meager.

Up to now, the greatest expenditures of the Great Han court remained the costs of supporting officials and maintaining troops. The treasury's balance was still in a state of tight equilibrium.

The court was strapped for funds, so it basically turned a blind eye to officials and nobles acquiring property on their own—even the practice of abusing power for personal gain had become the norm.

Upon receiving Liu Chengyou's approval, the others remained fairly calm, but Wang Zhang wore an obvious expression of pain, his bitterness seemingly deepened by another degree. However, when it came to funding the military, Wang Zhang had rarely cut corners.

"How is military morale lately?" Liu Chengyou asked, his gaze drifting toward Shang Hongqian and Bai Wenke.

Bai Wenke bowed steadily and spoke favorably: "In this reorganization of the army, Your Majesty's planning has been thorough and preparations proper. The soldiers all know Your Majesty's love for his troops, and with the various lords diligently consoling and implementing, morale remains stable."

"What of the soldiers who were cut? Any resentment?"

"The court has properly settled them all—how could there be complaints?" Bai Wenke replied.

As his words fell, Shang Hongqian, wearing a smile, assured Liu Chengyou: "Rest assured, Your Majesty. I have already spread the word—anyone who is dissatisfied may come directly to me, and I will make them thoroughly convinced!"

At Shang Hongqian's declaration, the corners of Liu Chengyou's mouth curled slightly. His expression unchanged, he pondered for a moment, then said to the group: "In this reorganization, you have all worked hard. I will keep it in mind—once it is complete, you will be richly rewarded!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

"It is merely our duty." Guo Wei bowed, his weary expression still carrying its usual deference.

"The last part of a journey is the hardest. Though the reorganization is proceeding smoothly for now, do not be negligent in the matters that follow!" Liu Chengyou added another admonition.

"As commanded!"

With that sentence, the imperial conference concluded. Liu Chengyou kept Wang Zhang behind to consult him on the autumn tax matters. According to his earlier decree, the autumn tax was to be levied from the first day of the tenth month, and now half of the eleventh month had already passed. The prefectures of the Central Plains—especially those in the capital region—had already begun transporting a portion of their money and grain to the Eastern Capital, with more to be sent after spring arrived.

The court was impoverished, so it naturally paid particular attention to money and grain. After consulting with Wang Zhang for a considerable time, the two of them devised another policy: to relieve the prefectures of the burden of transporting grain, the court would establish Fiscal Commissioners in each circuit and prefecture, dedicated solely to the transport of summer and autumn grain levies, coordinating dispatch to save manpower and resources and improve efficiency.

As always, implementation began with the capital-region prefectures and counties, where court control was strongest. By now, whenever the court had a new policy or decree, it would first be tested in the capital region—this had become one of Liu Chengyou's governing habits.

After Wang Zhang left, Liu Chengyou picked up another roster and studied it carefully, a hint of expectation on his face, as if somewhat reassured. This was the list of officers of the Palace Command and the Imperial Guard Command, covering all the transfers and appointments made so far. At bottom, the core action of this army reorganization was the promotion and appointment of these mid- and low-ranking officers.

Sun Li, Xiang Xun, Han Tong, Ma Quanyi, Li Chongju... these names passed before his eyes one by one, enough to set Liu Chengyou at ease. Supplemented by junior officers such as Li Chongjin, Zhang Yongde, Zhao Kuangyin, Zhao Yanjin, and Wang Hanlun.

And among the various armies of the two commands, Liu Chengyou saw even more names both familiar and unfamiliar, all in the ranks of low-ranking officers—Han Lingkun, Wang Shenqi, and others. Overall, this reorganization was a process of renewal for the imperial army.

Of course, even with vigorous promotion of young officers, the army was not yet run by a bunch of young men in the short term. Toward those meritorious veterans, Liu Chengyou did not hold a purely suppressive attitude—especially those famous generals in the prime of their years, battle-tested, whether valiant or gifted in command, he continued to employ them heavily.

Men like Wang Quanbin, Wang Yanchao, Shi Yanchao, Wang Yin, Du Hanhui, Wang Yansheng, Bai Yanyu, Guo Chong, Zhao Hongyin... these men would remain the backbone and foundation of the Great Han's imperial army for many years to come.

In the afternoon, he uncharacteristically indulged in laziness, not holing up in the palace halls. Shaking off the tedious affairs of state, Liu Chengyou summoned a palace eunuch to accompany him on a stroll outside the hall.

He did not go far—just around Chuigong Hall. Though the Bian Palace was not large in scale, its halls and towers were also devoid of extravagance. Standing within it, surrounded by layer upon layer of palace shadows, Liu Chengyou was struck by a sudden daze—he felt how humble and insignificant he, the Emperor, truly was.

In truth, Liu Chengyou was not very familiar with the entire Bian Palace. Since ascending the throne, his range of activity had always been those few halls—he rarely even visited the palace gardens. If left to wander the palace alone, he would absolutely get lost.

It was the depths of winter, the eleventh month at its peak, and the weather grew ever more bitterly cold. The winter scenery around the palace was truly nothing to speak of, especially when one had grown tired of looking at it.

Breathing a puff of warm vapor onto his hands, Liu Chengyou huddled inside the fur robe he had been wearing for a month and a half, glancing back at Chuigong Hall. Frost covered the world, thin mist hung in the air, but it was clearly visible—the solemn palace, devoid of ornate decoration, instead exuded an air of neglect and disrepair.

Seeing this scene, Liu Chengyou was suddenly struck by a whim. Pointing at the palace, he declared with an expression full of "emotion": "I do not take beauty in ornate palaces—truly, I am proud of this frugal simplicity!"

Hearing his exclamation, Zhang Dejun, attending at his side, immediately stepped forward with a small bit of flattery: "His Majesty's frugality is already renowned throughout the court and the realm. The common folk of the Eastern Capital all praise Your Majesty's sagely wisdom and benevolence!"

At these words, Liu Chengyou immediately asked: "You have long lived within the palace, serving at my side—where did you hear such talk from the streets?"

Zhang Dejun was taken aback. He had only been seizing the opportunity to flatter the Emperor—how was he to know Liu Chengyou would react so seriously? He stammered for a moment, then gave a somewhat plausible answer: "This servant has occasionally heard the assembled officials discussing it in private."

Liu Chengyou smiled knowingly but let him off, his mood improving slightly. Though his frugality was not entirely heartfelt, as the Son of Heaven, if he was going to "suffer" like this and still not earn a good reputation, that would be too great a loss.

In fact, the Bian Palace and the streets of the Eastern Capital were not separated by mountains and rivers—news from within the palace occasionally leaked out. Thanks to effective publicity, the common people's praise for Liu Chengyou was indeed considerable; the persona of a sage and enlightened ruler had more or less been established.

Seeing that Liu Chengyou did not pursue the matter further, Zhang Dejun breathed a sigh of relief. He was afraid the Emperor might suddenly ask again which ministers had spread the talk.

"The winter solstice is approaching, isn't it?" Liu Chengyou suddenly asked.

"Reporting to Your Majesty, there are still five days until the winter solstice!" Zhang Dejun hurriedly replied.

"This year's winter solstice, I shall share in the joy with the people!" Liu Chengyou said.

In this era, the winter solstice was regarded with great importance. Both in court and among the people, celebrations and exchanges were conducted just like the New Year.