Chapter 856: The Great Han's Military Bureaucratic Landlords

Starting from the first year of Qianyou, the Great Han court began its policy of granting land and offices to military officers, and this continued up to the present day. By the eleventh year of Qianyou, the number of men across the various circuits and prefectures of the Great Han who had taken up local posts in prefectures, counties, townships, and villages due to military merit or retirement had reached more than fifty thousand in total.

This was no small number. Apart from a small portion who were appointed to prefectural and county posts, the vast majority were sent back to their home villages, or arranged for positions nearby or in place, becoming the broad base of village-level officials throughout the Great Han.

This was also the so-called "imperial power reaching the countryside" movement, with meritorious military personnel as its main body. Those who received grants were all men who had fought on battlefields for the Great Han, rendered service, and shed blood, and were thus rewarded.

Therefore, these men had a relatively high degree of recognition for the court, and could genuinely honor and obey the court and implement its policies. They had merit, land, and authority; backed by the court, their honor and prestige extended throughout their villages.

This large group was a powerful weapon for the central government to strengthen its influence and control over the localities, and over the past decade, it had indeed produced certain positive results. At the same time, it also represented the resurgence of an ancient and traditional force—the military landlord class.

However, everything that has its advantages must also have its disadvantages. The officers and soldiers transferred to local posts did not merely serve as constables and bailiffs maintaining public order; a great many of them bore responsibility for village governance.

But for a bunch of rough soldiers who were essentially illiterate, sending them to fight and risk their lives on the battlefield was no great problem—but having them govern people's livelihoods, manage taxes, and mediate between neighbors was very difficult to accomplish smoothly.

Because they came from the military, their style was tough, and many of them acted crudely, resolving matters not by reason or law but by throwing their weight around. If it had stopped there, it might have been tolerable, but among them, quite a few, once sent down to the countryside, threw their weight around and preyed upon the villagers.

When disputes or cases arose, many were settled privately without being reported to the authorities. Theft, assault, rape—these were considered "minor matters," and some even handled deaths on their own authority.

As for these village "military officers," the common people either feared their power or cowered before their might, not daring to resist, and even when wronged, did not dare report them to the authorities. Although so far this remained only a partial phenomenon, such incidents were growing more and more numerous, which proved that there was indeed a problem.

What Zhao Li had been investigating in recent times was precisely this situation. When Liu Chengyou read his posthumous memorial, he immediately took it seriously, and from the supervisory reports received by the Censorate, Liu Chengyou uncovered a series of cases of malpractice.

For example, in Beizhou there was a township head who delighted in flogging the common people—regardless of the size of the offense, he would administer fifty lashes.

For example, in Puzhou there was a village head under whose jurisdiction a case arose, and he forbade the people from filing complaints with the authorities, settling it himself instead.

For example, in Huazhou there was a County Defender who exchanged poor fields for the fertile lands of the common people.

For example, in Jinzhou there was a patrol officer who forcibly seized another man's wife and persecuted his family...

And all of these men shared one common trait: they were all retired officers and soldiers. Similar incidents were too numerous to enumerate—a litany of misdeeds spread across circuits, prefectures, counties, and towns. As for the chief local officials, there were not a few who were upright and capable and took action to rectify matters, but more of them, mindful of these men's "status," had various misgivings, and as long as things were not taken too far or blown out of proportion, they turned a blind eye. After all, the Emperor himself had said that these men were meritorious veterans of the Great Han and an important component of the Great Han's village governance...

Before Zhao Li's own case broke, what he had been devoting himself to was precisely the supervision and investigation of such common cases. He had been preparing a major action—to impeach those local officials of military origin and petition the Emperor to change the policy. However, before he could act, his own case had already broken.

Previously, Liu Chengyou had not paid attention to these matters, and the officials below had rarely reported them. Even when some were dealt with by law, it was only through the court's normal procedures, handled as individual cases.

However, when such things became a common malady across the localities, viewed from the overall perspective, they became an extremely serious problem. All along, the "imperial power reaching the countryside" that Liu Chengyou had hoped for seemed not to have achieved its intended effect; instead, after all these years, it had gradually developed into a new malady.

Liu Chengyou had intended to weaken the influence of local clans and powerful families, using these military-merit landlords and appointed officials to strengthen control and management over the localities. But judging from the results, it seemed he had merely replaced part of the role of those people.

The rise of the village military landlord class merely represented a new local force. They were no different in essence from the original clans, powerful families, and landlords—only in name did they represent the court, and comparatively speaking, they were more submissive to it.

In the early years of the state, when the central authority was strong, they were an extension of the will and policies of the Son of Heaven and the court, and had great positive significance. But it could be foreseen that as time passed, they would eventually merge and evolve with local forces, and finally become deeply entrenched...

With this understanding, Liu Chengyou suddenly realized that when it came to village governance, he had been taking things for granted. "Imperial power reaching the countryside" was, after all, only an ideal state—a problem that could never be completely solved. Under the current imperial system, it seemed one could only achieve a certain degree of improvement within a certain period. As for anything more, it was mere fantasy.

Having thought all this through, Liu Chengyou felt helpless and quite depressed. And this troubled him more than the Zhao Li case—a suffocating frustration he could do nothing about. Of course, for Liu Chengyou, the problem was not actually that serious, because it seemed to be merely a matter of social governance, with no great impact on imperial power or his throne.

No matter how those military officers and landlords evolved, in essence they were all a force upholding the Emperor's and the court's rule over the localities—it was just that the development of this force had deviated somewhat from Liu Chengyou's original intentions...

"Chancellor Fan has come! Please, take a seat!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Inside Chongzheng Hall, looking at the Emperor who, according to rumor, had been in a poor mood lately, Fan Zhi was a bit cautious.

"What business brings you here?" Liu Chengyou got straight to the point.

Fan Zhi did not delay either, presenting a thick memorial and saying: "Reporting to Your Majesty, regarding the Zhao Li fraud case, all implicated officials and personnel, great and small, total eighty-five persons. The trials of the guilty officials and criminals in the capital have been concluded by the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review. The sentences are as follows—please review them, Your Majesty!"

"Mm!" Liu Chengyou acknowledged, picked up the document and looked at the sentencing results, his brows quickly furrowing as he said: "Are these not too lenient?"

Hearing this, Fan Zhi said calmly: "Your Majesty, the ministries' judgments were all made according to the severity of each offender's crimes, in accordance with the Criminal Code!"

According to the authorities' sentencing, of the thirty-six offenders in the capital, only eleven, whose circumstances were grave, were sentenced to death. And Liu Chengyou's meaning was quite clear—he felt too few people had been killed.

Hearing his answer, Liu Chengyou immediately said: "I am not questioning the authorities' judgments, but one must decide according to circumstances. The Zhao Li case can be called the greatest fraud case since the founding of the state. As head of the Censorate, bearing the heavy responsibility of oversight, he was himself improper in conduct and unruly in behavior, his misdeeds notorious, damaging the court's reputation and authority. If we do not punish severely with heavy laws, how can we give the world an accounting, and how can we warn all officials under heaven?"

Seeing the Emperor's reaction, Fan Zhi was silent for a moment, then rose, clasped his hands, and said gravely: "Your Majesty established the laws to prevent treachery. Now the authorities have already followed the established system in their judgments, with no omissions. To lightly overturn the sentences would itself be a violation of the law and an injustice. In that case, how can the seriousness of the law be made manifest, and how can the people of the world be made to believe in it?"

Well, well—Fan Zhi was butting heads with the Emperor again.

At this, Liu Chengyou's expression indeed turned cold, and his tone grew harsh: "Is Chancellor Fan accusing Me of using the law improperly and enforcing it unfairly?"

"Your servant would not dare. I merely state what is reasonable, speaking to the matter at hand!" Meeting the Emperor's gaze, Fan Zhi showed not the slightest fear.

Hearing this, Liu Chengyou took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then said coldly: "Special matters require special handling. For this case, I will certainly issue a directive for heavier punishment!"

Fan Zhi also said calmly: "Please issue an edict, Your Majesty—your servant dares not countersign it!"

"You!"

Liu Chengyou was choked for a moment, and immediately recalled that previously, also over a corruption case, Liu Chengyou had wanted executions while Fan Zhi had insisted on sentencing according to law. At that time, Fan Zhi had answered Liu Chengyou in exactly the same way, and that time, he had chosen to follow Fan Zhi's advice.

But this time, after staring at him for a while, Liu Chengyou said stubbornly: "All those implicated in this case shall have their sentences increased by one degree!"

Clearly, the Emperor was determined to force it through. And to this, Fan Zhi could only respond with silence, seemingly having no other recourse. On Liu Chengyou's side, he made the endorsement with his vermilion brush and directly ordered it issued.

After forcibly carrying out his will, Liu Chengyou's mood seemed to improve considerably—it was a feeling of satisfaction. Looking at Fan Zhi's stiff expression, he suddenly smiled at him and said: "Chancellor Fan, before Zhao Li died, he submitted a memorial to Me. I also have some reports from the Censorate here. Take a look—I would like to hear your opinion!"

Having said this, Liu Chengyou ordered someone to hand over the entire pile of memorials concerning the malpractices of village military-merit officials for him to read.

Fan Zhi also calmed his somewhat helpless mood, and with a trace of puzzlement, took them and began to leaf through them, his expression gradually turning serious.