Chapter 318: Shocking! The Great Ming Emperor Just Spent a Fortune!

In the steppe, how many livestock must one own to be considered a meat-eater? Roughly equivalent to the gentry of Great Ming's countryside.

According to the reports from distant beacon towers, three hundred sheep and ninety oxen are required; there is no demand for horses. Fifteen mu of pasture supports one sheep, or half an ox. To sustain such a herd, 7,200 mu of pasture are needed—only then can one call oneself a meat-eater on the steppe.

Such a herd can support about sixty households.

As Great Ming's power waned and the steppe environment deteriorated, the nomadic lifestyle of moving with water and grass gradually evolved into a semi-agricultural, semi-pastoral mode of production. The standard of three hundred sheep and ninety oxen emerged under these conditions: the steppe was no longer just for grazing—it required irrigation, plowing, and cultivation of forage crops.

Yet the output of these three hundred sheep and ninety oxen remained low, for without trade, livestock served only as sources of meat and milk—nothing else.

The steppe people also disliked raising horses, for raising horses meant giving up sheep and oxen, inevitably leading to starvation. Ma Pi provided no sufficient agricultural or pastoral products for daily life, yet they had to be raised—even without raiding the Central Plains, inter-tribal warfare demanded large numbers of horses to protect one's herds.

Wang Wang Chonggu owned twelve thousand hectares, or 1.2 million mu of pasture, capable of sustaining 170 herds. His pasture scale on the steppe was truly that of a myriarch, for his herds could indeed support ten Battalion Commander.

Zhu Zhu Yijun, in the Zhao Wenhua Hall, called Wang Wang Chonggu a taichi, an otok, a myriarch—not joking. Wang Wang Chonggu's assets on the steppe exceeded those of a myriarch.

Wang Wang Chonggu offered all these pastures to the imperial court after weighing the benefits: the profits from the Yongding Wool Factory granted by the Great Ming Emperor far surpassed the output of twelve thousand hectares.

To take more would be impolite. Wang Wang Chonggu feared the Emperor, seeing him too wealthy, would simply confiscate his estate.

When Wan Wan Wenqing faced Beijing's second richest young master, Wang Qian, he sincerely said: "Young Master Wang, you are truly powerful!"

Because Wang Qian's family was indeed far wealthier than Wan Wan Wenqing's.

When the rich youths faced Great Ming's richest and Great Ming's most miserly, they paled in comparison. The Great Ming Emperor was truly wealthy: since Emperor Wanli Year Two, under Zhang Zhang Juzheng's direction, the state treasury annually allocated 1.2 million taels to the imperial treasury for palace expenses. Zhu Zhu Yijun, who knew how to make money, turned the imperial estates into thriving enterprises.

Wan Wan Wenqing left Beijing and boarded a ship at Tianjin's coastal port bound for Guangzhou, accompanied by his fellow examinee, fellow disciple, and fellow townsman Wu Wu Weizhong.

Indeed, Wu Wu Weizhong kept his word—he followed Wan Wan Wenqing into the role of a supervisory official.

As for Zou Zou Yuanbiao, the Great Ming Emperor had banished him to Song Yingchang to herd horses and till barren land. Had Zou Zou Yuanbiao accepted Wan Wan Wenqing's proposal, the three of them would long ago have been in Guangzhou, surrounded by beauties from myriad lands.

"Wan brother, this… this… this…" Wu Wu Weizhong stammered as he boarded the ship. The vessel was a sea-going pleasure barge. He had only heard of such barges in legend—he had never ridden one. Wu Wu Weizhong's eyes widened: this was what decadent luxury truly looked like.

Everywhere inside the barge exuded opulence: the deck was polished teak coated with tung oil, each footstep echoing with the elegance of gold. Fine wine and beautiful women were endless.

Wan Wan Wenqing's official career was no fiery mountain in midsummer—how could it be like this?

Wan Wan Wenqing remained calm. This was not his own ship—it was the pleasure barge of the Sun family of Songjiang. Renting such a vessel to Guangzhou cost five thousand taels, but Wan Wan Wenqing could truly afford it.

The barge was a seaworthy vessel designed for comfort—only then would young masters willingly sail out daily. This was proof that Great Ming's maritime technology ensured safe passage—not a desperate gamble against storms. With safety assured, going to sea was no longer a last resort—it became an opportunity.

"Zou Zou Yuanbiao, Zou Zou Yuanbiao—what can one say about him? Had he agreed earlier, would he have been sent to Song Yingchang, that barren wasteland?" Wan Wan Wenqing watched the sails rise slowly, casting a wistful glance northward—he had passed the imperial examination here, his name inscribed on the golden list, known throughout the land.

Then Wan Wan Wenqing swore: he would never return to the northern bureaucracy! This wretched place—let whoever wants it, keep it. He didn't care!

This was no place for humans. In winter and spring, gales swept across the land, filled with dust. The winter was bone-dry and bitterly cold—Wan Wan Wenqing's face, hands, and feet were all covered in frostbites.

Wan Wan Wenqing had a heated chamber, but one could not stay inside forever—he had to go out. Each time he stepped out, his delicate skin suffered frostbite.

Zou Zou Yuanbiao's destination had no heated chamber at all. One misstep, and he might be snatched away by wild beasts of the mountains and forests.

Wan Wan Wenqing, Wu Wu Weizhong, and Zou Zou Yuanbiao each had bright futures ahead.

As Wan Wan Wenqing, Wu Wu Weizhong, and Zou Zou Yuanbiao departed Beijing, a wave of debate swept the capital. Local gazettes began discussing Zhang Zhang Juzheng's school of mind and Hu Zhi's school of mind—a long-standing question: is human nature inherently good or evil?

Zhang Zhang Juzheng argued that through practice, one gradually cultivates morality. As one walks further on the path, the way appears—when the mountain blocks the road, a path emerges; when the boat reaches the bridge, it naturally straightens. His theories of contradiction, public-private distinction, and labor diagrams all reflected this idea—the teaching without discrimination.

Hu Zhi, however, insisted on innate ability and innate conduct—attaining innate knowledge. He believed a powerless man could not endure life's hardships. A weak, unresolute, cowardly man lacks the courage to face and resolve obstacles—he only flees, never confronts. How could such a man possess innate conduct, let alone innate knowledge?

This debate grew fierce—so fierce that even the Emperor was drawn in.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's view clearly dominated, for his supporters argued the Great Ming Emperor was a successful model of moral education.

Under Zhang Zhang Juzheng's careful tutelage, His Majesty was far superior to the Daoist Emperor, who failed to complete his path, and the silent former Emperor. At least now, the Great Ming Emperor attended court deliberations daily and handled vital state affairs according to established principles—this efficiency was unprecedented in the Ming dynasty.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's memorials frequently criticized the Daoist Emperor and the Emperor Longqing Emperor for leaving memorials unread—this "read but unacknowledged" practice rendered the Grand Secretariat powerless to act, severely disrupting the court's normal operations.

Often, matters were not too difficult for the Emperor to resolve—he simply forgot them. Only when the Grand Secretariat pressed him did he dig up the dusty memorials and send them back for action.

Supporters of Hu Zhi countered with examples: Xu Xu Jie, Gao Gong, and Zhang Zhang Juzheng had all once been lecturers in the Prince of Yu's mansion. Xu Xu Jie's moral corruption was well known; the former Emperor was fully aware, and soon after ascending the throne, he dismissed Xu Xu Jie and sent him home. Gao Gong and Zhang Zhang Juzheng were both in the Prince of Yu's court, yet the former Emperor was never diligent.

The pro-Zhang faction was pragmatic, conservative, and believed in teaching without discrimination—they played the Emperor's card. The pro-Hu faction was nostalgic, radical, and abandoned those who could not be educated—they played the former Emperor's card.

Zhu Zhu Yijun welcomed such philosophical debates. Intellectual clashes inevitably sparked fire—this aligned with his theory of contradiction, where opposing forces continuously resolve and reveal myriad truths, advancing Great Ming's social consciousness toward social reality.

In truth, Zhu Zhu Yijun himself leaned toward Hu Zhi's faction, for the strongest argument of the pro-Zhang side was fundamentally flawed: the Emperor Wanli Emperor himself was the counterexample.

Just as Zhu Zhu Yijun had trained in martial arts for years yet remained merely a sharp soldier—not a fierce general, not a commander—he accepted his lack of military talent as his regret and his reality.

Self-awareness was a good thing. Zhu Zhu Yijun never ordered the Seventeenth Infantry's three flank war chariots to move three zhang right—that would only make Qi Qi Jiguang's campaigns harder.

He could not fight, but he knew logistics.

On the seventh day of the eighth month, the Great Ming Emperor, as usual, went to the Guozijian's Yilun Hall—his day for personal instruction. His lesson remained unchanged: mathematics.

Great Ming's wool trade was thriving. The number of horses on the steppe was steadily declining. Pastures planted with forage crops were increasing. Fifteen mu of pasture per sheep gradually became fifteen mu for two or three sheep—depending on the weather. The nomadic life of moving with water and grass was rapidly being replaced by semi-agricultural, semi-pastoral methods.

Animal husbandry on the steppe was advancing rapidly. Once the steppe people lost their horses, they lost their only advantage: mobility. The true opportunity for peace between Great Ming and the steppe was arriving.

The teacher-student pair Gao Prince Dingxiang and Jiao Hong had precisely defined production, and under the steppe model, they further clarified the definition of productive forces.

Human ability to alter nature—that is productive force.

"Master, Hu Hu Ancha." Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled broadly at the two men. Today was the decisive day of Great Ming's public opinion: Zhang Zhang Juzheng's "teaching without discrimination" versus Hu Zhi's theory of innate talent—Yilun Hall was the battlefield.

As judge, Zhu Zhu Yijun signaled the start. The debaters were not Zhang Zhang Juzheng and Hu Zhi themselves—instead, the students of the Guozijian debated. For Great Ming's esteemed scholars to descend into open quarrels would be unseemly.

Yet the result stunned Zhu Zhu Yijun: the pro-Zhang faction, which had dominated, was now retreating step by step!

The pro-Hu faction unveiled their ultimate weapon: Hu Zhi's three disciples! Zou Zou Yuanbiao was stubborn and unyielding; Wan Wan Wenqing had a respectful heart, dared to be the first to answer the court's call, and was the first to volunteer as a supervisory official, setting an example for all Confucian scholars. Wu Wu Weizhong, however, was a sycophant, drawn southward only by greed for pleasure.

All trained under the same master, yet so vastly different—does this not prove the importance of innate talent?

Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed. Wan Wan Wenqing had returned home to inherit his family's wealth after his career stalled—he had an escape route. Besides, Beijing's courtesans could not satisfy Wan Wan Wenqing's tastes. And Wang Qian had spent thirty thousand taels on socializing, coaxing and deceiving him until Wan Wan Wenqing became the "horsebone bought for ten thousand taels."

Judging by deeds, not intentions, the pro-Hu faction won the debate.

"Master, do not be disheartened. I still have five bottles of Guojiao. Feng Da, deliver them to the Master." Zhu Zhu Yijun comforted Zhang Zhang Juzheng. The pro-Hu faction was indeed radical—they had stabbed themselves three times first. Winning was only natural.

Guojiao had flowed southward, to the navy. Zhu Zhu Yijun had not granted any Guojiao as rewards recently—this was his last reserve.

"Your Majesty, I am not disheartened. Great Ming is vast enough to hold two voices. What Hu Hu Ancha says is reasonable; what I say is also reasonable. Doctrines can coexist. 'When three walk together, one of them is my teacher.' Take the strengths, compensate for the weaknesses—that is the way of the gentleman." Zhang Zhang Juzheng bowed deeply. He truly did not care about the outcome of this debate. Whoever won, Great Ming won—and if Great Ming won, Zhang Zhang Juzheng won.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's vision differed from Hu Zhi's. Hu Zhi needed reputation to advance; Confucian scholars sought to understand society's basic logic. Zhang Zhang Juzheng, as Grand Secretary and Tutor, sought only the revival of Great Ming.

Progress in social consciousness can further guide progress in social reality.

"Master, your virtue is great," Hu Zhi immediately flattered. If he won this debate and Zhang Zhang Juzheng took notice, he'd wake every night fearing Zhang's knives in his bed.

As Great Ming's Imperial Tutor, Zhang Zhang Juzheng could crush a mere Guangzhou Hu Ancha as easily as swatting a fly. Add to that Zhang's elite scholar's underhanded tactics—Hu Zhi feared Zhang would harbor resentment and seek revenge.

Since Zhang Zhang Juzheng had spoken of the gentleman's way before the Emperor, he would not make himself a villain—front and back would be consistent.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's greatest achievement was not his new policies, but cultivating an excessively qualified monarch. If the Tutor himself became the negative example, would the Emperor not imitate him?

"Hu Hu Ancha, rest assured. I may not be perfectly upright, but I am not that kind of low man. This is merely an academic disagreement." Zhang Zhang Juzheng gave no riddles for Hu Zhi to ponder—he offered a direct promise: he would not hold a grudge.

Even spouses quarrel. Zhang Zhang Juzheng and the Emperor still have differences. As long as their disagreements are not on the path of principle, they are not parting ways over divergent Dao. Hu Zhi is not an enemy of the new policies.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng asked curiously: "Hu Hu Ancha, what is your purpose in coming to the capital for your official review?"

Hu Zhi had already completed his review at the Ministry of Personnel, and His Majesty had already received foreign officials. Why was Hu Zhi still in Beijing, stirring up this commotion? It was strange.

"To support Minister Ling and bolster his reputation. Minister Ling is investigating the Kong family—court officials will surely launch fierce attacks. The scholars dare not accuse Chen Shan at the Wumen gate, nor defy His Majesty, so they will target Minister Ling. Minister Ling is known for his brutality and poor reputation. I have come from the far south specifically to defend Minister Ling's honor. He is a Ming Jinshi, a Confucian scholar, who loves benevolence—his killings are merely unavoidable." Hu Zhi spoke with certainty and handed a memorial to Feng Bao.

Hu Zhi's trip to the capital had a clear purpose: to sing praises for Ling Ling Yunyi—jointly, by the gentry and powerful families of Guangdong and Guangxi!

Ling Ling Yunyi did well. Ling Ling Yunyi did right. Your Majesty, let Ling Ling Yunyi continue in Shandong—do not send him back to Guangdong and Guangxi!

The purpose of supporting Ling Ling Yunyi was to ensure he kept targeting the wealthy households in Shandong—do not let him return to Guangdong and Guangxi.

According to standard Ming bureaucratic norms, Ling Ling Yunyi should have been recalled to Guangdong and Guangxi after this round of attacks—he had performed decently there. Ling Ling Yunyi must not fall—he must remain in Shandong! Whoever opposes Ling Ling Yunyi opposes the wealthy families of Guangdong and Guangxi!

"Hu Hu Ancha, you have thought deeply," Zhu Zhu Yijun said after reading the memorial, nodding approvingly.

The logic was flawless: Ling Ling Yunyi was not a bloodthirsty monster—he was forced to kill by circumstances, for moral education had failed. Hu Zhi had gone to great lengths to defend Ling Ling Yunyi.

The wealthy families of Guangdong and Guangxi were truly terrified. They would rather have Yin Yin Zhengmao tear down doors and carry off beds than face a governor like Ling Ling Yunyi.

Wang Wang Chonggu sat beside them, eyes downcast, like a meditating monk—but a faint, almost invisible smile appeared on his lips. Only the beaten know the pain.

On the seventh day of the eighth month, as the Beijing debate ended, Guoxing Yin Zhengmao in Lu Song received the Emperor's edict. The imperial envoy was Li Li Yougong, a senior eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, a frequent traveler who sailed on a hydrofoil sailboat from Tianjin, southward through Shandong's Mishizhou Customs, Songjiang's Xingang, Zhejiang's Zhoushan, Fujian's Yuegang, Penghu's Patrol Office, Lu Song's Miyangang, finally arriving in Manila.

The Manila Governor's Office had been renamed the Lu Song Governor's Office. The city of Manila had been renamed Lu Song—though out of habit, everyone still called it Manila. As time passed, as long as Great Ming maintained rule over Lu Song, the name Manila would vanish.

By Emperor Wanli Sixth Year, few still called Miyangang "Bansilan." Bansilan was a name given by the red-haired barbarians.

"What's wrong with the Senior Eunuch?" Guoxing Yin Zhengmao and Zhang Zhang Yuanxun, Deng Deng Zilong, greeted the edict—but the Senior Eunuch collapsed on the dock, leaving them baffled.

Yin Zhengmao stepped onto the gangway to help Li Li Yougong up.

"Lord Guoxing, wait a moment. Let this servant lie on the ground a while—I'm dizzy." The envoy Li Li Yougong lay on the ground, refusing to rise—he was violently seasick.

Li Li Yougong waved his hands: "I've traveled often—been to Lanzhou, Sichuan, Songjiang. This trip took only ten days, nearly killed me. This hydrofoil sailboat is terribly bumpy."

He could not fathom how the Coastal Patrol's "Water Flyers" adapted to these vessels. Every time Li Li Yougong rode one, he had to lie prostrate for a long, long time.

The distant beacon tower scouts and the Coastal Patrol's Water Flyers—Great Ming's two intelligence networks—walked the edge of death, treading on the Devil's head. Even the Devil himself feared these men—they were too hard to kill.

The beacon tower scouts truly suffered. Northern winters could freeze men to death. By October, the wind was a bone-chilling blade—a single cold could take a life. Since Emperor Jingtai Second Year, the three-thousand-strong beacon tower scouts had patrolled the ten-thousand-li Great Wall, gathering enemy intelligence and burning the grasslands each autumn.

The Coastal Patrol's Water Flyers were no less perilous—the sea was extremely dangerous.

Li Li Yougong lay for half a day before he could stand. After bathing and changing clothes, he arrived at the Lu Song Governor's Office to proclaim the edict.

"This is…" Li Li Yougong stared at the thick governor's gate, feeling something odd—it was far too thick.

Yin Zhengmao looked at the thick gate and said: "A small hobby."

The gate was a patchwork: doors taken from Guangdong and those taken after arriving in Lu Song were all mounted on this single gate, making it look bizarre. Overseas, Yin Zhengmao remained Yin Zhengmao—he still kept his habit of tearing down doors and carrying off beds.

Never forgetting his roots.

The group of statues depicting giants battling gods between the Governor's Office and the City Hall had all been removed. They were replaced by Nüwa mending the sky, Jingwei filling the sea, Suiren drilling wood for fire, Kuafu chasing the sun, Shennong tasting herbs, Yugong moving mountains, Cangjie inventing characters, Leizu reeling silk, Dayu controlling floods, and so on.

Whether Western giants fought gods, Yin Zhengmao did not know—but China's sages truly battled heaven.

Unlike Great Ming's sharp-edged architecture, the Manila Governor's Office was a crossroads of civilizations. Its buildings overflowed with varied lines, perfect proportions, geometric shapes, semicircular arches, and columnar compositions centered around domes—exquisitely beautiful.

Yin Zhengmao was not suffering in Lu Song. The Governor's Office was even grander than his residence in Guangdong and Guangxi.

Li Li Yougong stood before the Governor's Office entrance and announced loudly: "Guoxing Yin Zhengmao, receive the edict!"

"We humbly receive the imperial decree," Yin Zhengmao and all Lu Song Governor's Office officials knelt.

The edict was simple: the Emperor first commended the soldiers guarding the maritime frontier far from home, praised Yin Zhengmao's governance in Lu Song as harmonious with the Dao, noted the prosperity of his domain, then spoke of the transaction with Antonio—requiring military force to collect payment.

This time, the Emperor deployed three five-masted ocean-going ships, accompanied by about thirty three-masted clippers and hundreds of war junks to support this operation.

"If His Imperial Majesty has any difficulties, please speak plainly." Li Li Yougong handed the imperial edict to Yin Yin Zhengmao—his meaning was clear: if armed collection of payments required imperial support, now was the time to state the terms.

Yin Yin Zhengmao carefully stored the edict, gestured for his attendants to display it in the town hall's main chamber, then said with absolute certainty: "There are no difficulties."

"No difficulties?" Li Li Yougong blinked in surprise.

"No. Do we have difficulties in Lu Song with General Marquis Yingyang Zhang Zhang Yuanxun and Naval Commander Deng Deng Zilong?" Yin Yin Zhengmao turned to the two generals behind him.

Zhang Zhang Yuanxun and Deng Deng Zilong answered with equal certainty: "None!"

No difficulties meant Lu Song's governor's office would resolutely carry out the Emperor's decree without demanding any conditions, sparing the court any trouble.

This was a practical consideration: Lu Song's governor's office needed Great Ming's influence to radiate outward, just as the Prince of Qian's mansion in Yunnan did, to secure its own position.

Should the Great Ming court ever grow wary of Lu Song, it need do nothing more than issue a single order banning Lu Song merchant ships from entering Great Ming territory—Lu Song's governor's office would instantly lose all recognition and support, and all manner of demons and monsters would rise up. The court feared Yin Yin Zhengmao might harbor disloyal intentions overseas; Yin Yin Zhengmao feared losing the court even more—specifically, losing the Emperor's favor.

Lu Song's governor's office was born under the Emperor's grace, nurtured by His Majesty's benevolence. It was His Majesty who, despite opposition, granted the surname Zhu, and further solidified political control, making Lu Song's rule stable.

No conditions are needed. Wherever the Emperor's sword points, the Great Ming navy will level the land.

Li Li Yougong had come with the Emperor's explicit instructions: the offer was thirty percent. Thirty percent of the plantation's profits would go to Lu Song's governor's office. If Yin Yin Zhengmao asked for more, it could be raised to fifty percent; if he still asked for more, Li Li Yougong would equivocate.

"His Majesty often tells his attendants that the Marquis of Marquis Sishui and General Marquis Yingyang are out overseas, baring their teeth at gorillas—it's dreadfully dull, and life is hard and miserable," Li Li Yougong said with deep emotion.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng constantly told the Emperor that the Han dynasty's realm had always produced loyal and virtuous men—that China's great banner had always been upheld by these loyal pillars.

"The Emperor's grace moves me to tears," Yin Yin Zhengmao said with a smile. "I am well in Lu Song. Though this is a land beyond the rites, it is neither dull nor miserable. Please, Your Eunuch, come inside."

Indeed, beyond the rites, all ceremony was lost—but not all joy. For instance, Deng Deng Zilong and Luo Li—truly unbearable to watch. A few days ago, Luo Li, unable to endure the strain, sought help—such as Zhang Zhang Yuanxun, who delighted in wielding the whip and enforcing floggings everywhere. Yin Yin Zhengmao's own pleasure lay in outwitting the Westerners, inch by inch, slowly consuming Mindanao.

The pleasure of coloring maps—this suited Yin Yin Zhengmao perfectly.

As for hardship, there was none. Aside from the heat, for Yin Yin Zhengmao, a top-tier meat-eater in Lu Song, other problems were no problems at all. His governor's mansion had not a single mosquito. The native tenant-slaves served him with utmost diligence.

After three rounds of wine and five flavors of dishes, Li Li Yougong broached the issue of plantation profit-sharing. He tentatively proposed a twenty percent split. Yin Yin Zhengmao did not refuse outright, and accepted it as a matter of course.

Profit was the surest way to bind interests together. These two percent were Lu Song's governor's office's rightful due for carrying out the Emperor's will—essentially, a military equity stake.

Zhang Zhang Yuanxun and Deng Deng Zilong exchanged glances, both astonished, for Yin Yin Zhengmao always insisted: "Don't beg. Do your duty well, and the Emperor will naturally reward you."

The old saying goes: the child who cries gets the milk. If you don't ask, will the Emperor truly give?

The answer was yes—even the stingy Emperor had granted Lu Song a generous twenty percent.

Li Li Yougong had originally proposed twenty percent as a trial offer, leaving room for negotiation—but Yin Yin Zhengmao made no counteroffer. Li Li Yougong set down his cup, glanced left and right, and spoke in a voice just loud enough for the four of them to hear: "His Majesty understands how hard His Imperial Surname has worked. He specifically instructed me to grant an additional ten percent—directly to His Imperial Surname. You are overseas, spending vast sums. The court ministers chatter endlessly, but His Imperial Surname need not worry; the Emperor and Master Zhang hold the reins of power—these petty Confucians cannot stir up any trouble." 【126】 The miserly pixiu had finally spewed forth gold coins!

Zhang Zhang Yuanxun and Deng Deng Zilong's eyes widened in disbelief. They raised their cups at once: "Your Eunuch, drink, drink!"

The miserly pixiu had finally spat out gold coins!

It left these two seasoned veterans, who had weathered countless storms, utterly stunned.

Not even they had ever seen such a sight—let alone anyone else in the Great Ming. Thirty percent? The Emperor just gave it away?

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(End of Chapter)