Chapter 319: Who toils for the people, who is king of the people

The ancestors of the Qian State Duke family originally bore the surname Zhu; though adopted as an adopted son, and though they later reverted to their original surname, Mu Ying had no choice but to revert to Mu at age eight, as his father Zhu Zhu Yuanzhang had seized the empire and become emperor.

Once emperor, the household rules grew rigid—if Zhu Zhu Yuanzhang had not won the realm, such strictures would not have existed, and Mu Ying would have had no need to revert his surname.

The Qian State Duke's status in Great Ming was uniquely positioned: above military meritocrats, below imperial clans—honored like the former, yet unbound by the latter's feudal restrictions. The Qian State Duke loyally served the throne and the state, embodying the court's vigor, guarding the southwest for two centuries with unwavering fidelity—precisely because his ancestors truly bore the surname Zhu.

What merit did Yin Yin Zhengmao possess to earn such imperial favor?

Now Yin Yin Zhengmao has been granted the imperial surname, making him both imperial clan and military meritocrat.

The last time Yin Yin Zhengmao returned to the capital for his official report, officials and soldiers across Lu Song unanimously believed he was surely an illegitimate son of the Great Ming imperial house, lost abroad.

With the emperor now bestowing such extraordinary grace, this suspicion grew even stronger in their hearts as an explanation for the phenomenon.

"Your Imperial Surname Lord, His Majesty commands you to use force to collect these debts—what strategy do you propose?" Li Li Yougong asked, curious. This matter was extremely difficult: these red-haired barbarians had deep roots in these plantations, their foundations firm. Though the Great Ming navy was perpetually strong, the saying goes: a powerful dragon cannot suppress the earth-bound serpent—these local serpents were no easy foes to handle.

"Divide and weaken them, strike each separately, incite rewards and punishments, sow discord and estrangement." Yin Yin Zhengmao leaned forward, extended his hand slightly, and gripped tightly—as if grasping the entire situation in his palm. Since arriving in Lu Song, he had realized the Great Ming emperor had long coveted the plantations of the South Seas—not for one or two days, but for five years already.

Yin Yin Zhengmao had been pondering how best to proceed.

After a moment's thought, Li Li Yougong asked: "Inciting discord?"

"Stirring trouble from within and without." Yin Yin Zhengmao chose a direct answer.

Far from the heartland of Great Ming, Yin Yin Zhengmao no longer needed to uphold universal moral standards—he chose the most cost-effective, low-effort, and enduring strategy: he must not let Great Ming appear as an invader during debt collection, but rather as a savior. Only when they bled each other dry would he intervene slightly, achieving the effect of a feather moving a thousand catties.

"Your Imperial Surname Lord, no wonder you're a scholar." Li Li Yougong raised his cup.

"Merely repeating others' wisdom." Yin Yin Zhengmao clinked cups with Li Li Yougong. He wasn't lying—he explained: "In the first year of Yongyuan of the Eastern Han, Dou Zhang Xian crushed the Northern Xiongnu, driving three thousand li deep. At that time, Han's campaigns against the Xiongnu left no strength for the west; the Western Bi Qiang tribes fell into chaos. Deng Xun, governor of Zhangye, served as commandant and gradually used rewards and bribes to sow division among them, causing the tribes to incessantly wage war against each other, easing their troubles."

Stirring discord was an ancient trick—nothing novel, merely an old tool.

After wine and food, Yin Yin Zhengmao lodged Li Li Yougong and the other envoys in the Viceroy's residence.

Stirring trouble from within and without, he would intensify the conflict between Western red-haired colonists and local natives, then appear as a savior, rescuing the common folk from fire and water. This work fell to the Water Flyers, while war preparations continued: His Majesty's five-masted ocean-going ships, three-masted clippers, and war junks were still en route.

Preparations also included confining all red-haired barbarians across Mindanao behind high walls, preventing them from interfering with Great Ming's armed debt collection. The emperor was salivating; Yin Yin Zhengmao had long prepared. When the imperial edict arrived in Lu Song, the war machine began to turn slowly.

The next morning, after dawn broke, Yin Yin Zhengmao took Li Li Yougong to tour the Lu Song shipyard.

The Lu Song shipyard had possessed the capability to build three-masted clippers from its inception. Great Ming's first fully replicated Western clipper was launched here. When shipbuilding lost its commercial advantage, imitation was no disgrace. Soon after, Great Ming thoroughly mapped its own industry, unlocked the entire industrial chain, and reactivated the Longjiang, Songjiang, Fujian, Guangzhou Guangzhou Dianbai, and Lu Song shipyards.

Great Ming's shipbuilding industry became vibrant.

Opening the seas was not Zhang Zhang Juzheng's new policy—it was the emperor's. This was His Majesty's policy; all ministers surrounding it shared the imperial faction's political coloring.

Lu Song shipyard had its own advantage: cheap raw materials. Transporting timber from the South Seas to Great Ming cost more than shipping it to Lu Song. Lu Song's three-masted clippers were hot-selling products. In five years, under Yin Yin Zhengmao's management, the shipyard expanded from two dry docks to nine.

"Dock No. 1 and No. 2 were originally built by the red-haired barbarians—far too small, filled with silt, lacking hardened foundations, causing all sorts of odd problems. Last time two ships launched, their masts tilted, yet no cause could be found—until we discovered ground subsidence. So now we've expanded and reinforced the foundations of Docks 1 and 2." Yin Yin Zhengmao spoke of shipbuilding.

Docks 1 and 2 were old, built by the red-haired barbarians, their bases lacking lime or concrete. During production, deviations occurred. Shipwrights searched endlessly, even suspecting they had angered Western gods—burning incense and praying proved useless. Only after cleaning the docks did they find the base had collapsed.

"Could these remaining seven docks build five-masted ocean-going ships?" Li Li Yougong, observing their scale, felt a sense of déjà vu.

"Your Eunuch Lord, you jest," Yin Yin Zhengmao shook his head. He glanced around, picked up a wooden carpentry piece, disassembled it, then reassembled it—four extra parts remained, unable to fit.

A ship at sea is life itself. What's the point of four extra parts? Isn't that sheer nonsense?

He picked up the nearby wooden puzzle, the Lu Ban lock, scattered its pieces on the ground, and smiled: "King Philip II of Spain, Captain Antonio—they paid for five-masted ocean-going ships not because they didn't want to copy them, but because they couldn't."

"Like this Lu Ban lock: easy to take apart, hard to rebuild."

The Lu Ban lock, legend says, was invented by Lu Ban: six wooden bars cleverly interlocked, forming a stable whole without external force. Without training, once disassembled, it could not be reassembled. Great Ming's five-masted ocean-going ships shared this structure—you could disassemble them, but whether you could reassemble them depended entirely on fate.

Yin Yin Zhengmao's meaning was clear: five-masted ocean-going ships were hard to replicate. But there was another layer: trust between Lu Song and the court remained fragile. If Yin Yin Zhengmao dared to build them, it would inflict irreversible damage on that trust—this precious trust could never be repaired by silver.

Yin Yin Zhengmao was deeply indebted to imperial grace. The Lu Song Viceroyalty was born in imperial grace, grew in imperial favor. It was unimaginable that the Lu Song Viceroyalty would betray the emperor—what madness would the Great Ming emperor descend into?

With the emperor's temperament, he'd tear down the palace to build ships; if timber still wasn't enough, he'd dismantle the imperial tombs' surface structures to quell rebellion in Lu Song.

The Great Ming emperor would truly do it.

After touring the shipyard, Yin Yin Zhengmao took Li Li Yougong to visit the lime factory. Hardened roads, shipyard foundations, coastal embankments—all required lime. Especially wooden piers at the port were replaced with steel-concrete structures, far more durable.

In the afternoon, Yin Yin Zhengmao led Li Li Yougong to tour Lu Song's copper mine—a small town less than thirty li east of Manila, now named Tongxiang Town.

It had grown from a village of barely three to five hundred into a major town housing over thirty thousand artisans.

Chen Chen Chengyi was the superintendent of this copper mine—a position appointed by imperial decree. Last time a large ship delivered five hundred thousand jin of red copper to Songjiang Prefecture, Chen Chen Chengyi was promoted to superintendent of Lu Song Copper Mine for his merit in copper extraction, granted full authority over its mining.

Chen Chen Chengyi was a proper seventh-rank imperial official.

Chen Chen Chengyi led Li Li Yougong and the Viceroyalty's entourage toward Tongshan. Wooden rails had been laid to facilitate transporting ore downhill for smelting. Mercury amalgamation was more efficient, yet Chen Chen Chengyi chose the less efficient lead smelting: first, no mercury was available; second, under mercury amalgamation, no master craftsmen survived past twenty.

Standing before the mine, Chen Chen Chengyi said: "Old craftsmen identify terrain and landforms, locate vein trails, then follow the trails to find ore."

Seeking vein trails was called "seeking the dragon" in this trade—searching for the great dragon of the ore vein. The imagery resembled: "Seek the dragon, discern gold by tracing winding mountains; one winding mountain, one gate; if eight gates stand in peril, they never form outside yin-yang."

In reality, finding vein trails was an extremely difficult geological problem. Chen Chen Chengyi was already compiling methods: terrain, landform, soil composition—summarizing experience into transferable techniques. This was precisely what this juren must accomplish.

"Once the vein trail is found, dig tunnels along it, then classify them internally. Primarily, inclined tunnels enter the mountain, extending several li deep, mined level by level. Tunnel ceilings are supported by wooden frames; sometimes lime-steel pillars are used to prevent collapse. Ventilation uses wind bellows—a reciprocating large bellows. For tunnels over a hundred steps long, separate air shafts must be built, with stepped entrances; if water seeps in, one can climb out."

"For drainage, each several-li-long tunnel requires over a hundred water pumps, employing over a thousand laborers."

Chen Chen Chengyi described the mine's equipment: supports, ventilation, emergency exits, drainage—all required massive manpower, digging day and night.

Miners descending into shafts were hired locals, not Han migrants from the Central Plains, but indigenous people—because they were shorter, labor costs were lower. This was grueling work, entirely manual: ore was carried out in sacks and baskets. Conditions were horrific. When flooding or collapse occurred, deaths numbered in the dozens or even hundreds.

In April of the sixth year of Emperor Wanli, a four-li-deep tunnel first experienced underground water surging, then collapse. Over a hundred miners were permanently buried in the shaft.

"Mine experience is accumulated at the cost of lives, especially underground," Chen Chen Chengyi stated calmly, cruelly. Technological progress in mining was paid for by indigenous lives, sacrificed to accumulate experience.

It was cruel, yet realistic. Chen Chen Chengyi had seen too much: from initial pity to cold detachment. Great Ming's civilizing influence was indeed gentler than the West's—but only slightly. It was not un cruel. At least Great Ming's state-run mines paid wages on time, never defaulted.

"Next year, we project copper output of six million four hundred thousand jin." Chen Chen Chengyi did not take the Eunuch Lord deep into the mine—they still had to tour the smelting plant. As they walked, he reported next year's projected output.

"Red copper?" Li Li Yougong frowned. Six million four hundred thousand jin of copper was already significant—but if it was red copper, this place could not be abandoned by Great Ming!

The Great Ming emperor, the Grand Tutor, the Ministry of Revenue—all were frugal to the extreme, each willing to split a single cash coin into eight pieces!

Simply put: they were terrified of poverty.

Chen Chen Chengyi affirmed: "Red copper. Next year's projected output can cast eight hundred million Emperor Wanli Zhiyuan Tongbao coins—exceeding Yunnan copper output."

Yunnan copper was hard to transport; Tongxiang Town, just thirty li from the port, clearly had superior logistics. This was the meaning of opening the seas: Great Ming lacked gold, silver, and copper. Fujian and Henan silver mines yielded only one hundred thousand taels annually, yet Yunnan copper couldn't produce equivalent red copper.

Eight hundred million copper coins equaled eighty thousand strings. Official exchange rate: eighty thousand silver coins. But at the private rate, eight hundred million copper coins could fetch one hundred fifteen thousand silver coins.

Great Ming's Baoyuan Bureau set one silver coin equal to one thousand copper coins; privately, one silver coin equaled seven hundred copper coins. This discrepancy arose because Great Ming's copper supply was far lower than its silver influx. Great Ming now received four to six million taels of silver annually, mostly from the West and Japan, yet copper output relied entirely on Yunnan.

Some profited by exchanging silver ingots for copper coins, then converting them back to scattered silver in the market, refining mixed silver into gold-flower silver, then exchanging it at Baoyuan Bureau for copper coins—completing this cycle. This trade became a new way for the privileged class to monetize their privileges. Only those in court with power and wealth could access copper coins.

The Great Ming emperor did not ban this trade, because converting scattered silver into standardized coins benefited Great Ming's monetary policy.

Song's Qian Yin, jiaozi, Dong Huizi; Yuan's and Great Ming's Emperor Hongwu Baochao—all proved that paper currency was unsuitable for large-scale use. The qian system was constrained by copper and silver supply. The court lacked manpower and resources to collect and forge scattered silver from the populace.

Scattered silver in the populace wasn't merely the people's small silver bits—it included silver buried by village elites and landlords in pigsties. This was recycling, even mining—but human mining.

According to Minister of Revenue Wang Wang Guoguang's estimate, from the Tang establishment of the Maritime Trade Office to Emperor Wanli's reign, at least one hundred million taels of silver had flowed into Great Ming. If this silver could be mobilized, Great Ming's coin shortage would be significantly alleviated.

This entire system depended on sufficient Great Ming copper coinage. Copper coin quantity directly determined the efficiency of human mining.

As Yunnan copper expanded rapidly, Lu Song's copper mine matched it stride for stride.

"The year after next, we project twelve million jin of red copper—sixteen hundred million copper coins." Chen Chen Chengyi looked at Tongshan and Tongxiang Town and stated the number.

"That much?" Li Li Yougong's eyes widened. How could output double annually? He represented the emperor—Chen Chen Chengyi must not lie. Failure meant treason, a crime Chen Chen Chengyi could not bear.

Chen Chen Chengyi had been extremely conservative. His projections of eight hundred million next year and sixteen hundred million the year after included massive redundancy. Unless Yin Yin Zhengmao lost to the red-haired barbarians and Manila fell, he would surpass these targets.

"The emperor's investment has arrived—shouldn't we repay kindness with kindness?" Chen Chen Chengyi smiled broadly.

The Great Ming emperor had invested one million five hundred thousand silver taels here to expand copper production. Originally, the emperor intended indirect investment—lending with interest, low at four li annually (4%), without interfering in Lu Song Viceroyalty operations.

But Yin Yin Zhengmao petitioned that direct investment was better. This was Great Ming's economic bondage—bondage as entanglement, strengthening the invisible rope binding Great Ming and Lu Song.

Yin Yin Zhengmao wished the emperor would invest twenty million one hundred thousand silver taels into Lu Song—then Lu Song would become the emperor's private property.

The one million five hundred thousand silver taels of investment was only one reason for Chen Chen Chengyi's confidence. Another vital reason: skilled artisans were now mature. The pace of discovering vein trails had surpassed mining speed. A pillar industry was taking shape.

As they spoke, they arrived at the bustling state copper smelting factory. Most artisans here were Han, not locals. Copper ore was worthless; red copper was money. Only the Han held the core technology, which reassured Yin Yin Zhengmao.

The Han were the foundational ruling class of the Lu Song Viceroyalty—Yin Yin Zhengmao knew this better than anyone.

Copper furnaces came in three sizes: extra-large (fifteen chi), large (eight chi), and medium (seven chi). The workshops blazed with heat. Even the equatorial sun paled beside these furnaces; heat rolled before one even approached.

"Why only medium, large, and extra-large?" Li Li Yougong asked curiously.

"There's also a small furnace—five chi tall. We discontinued it just days ago," Chen Chen Chengyi hurried to explain. He wasn't testing the Eunuch Lord's patience—just that technical upgrades hadn't yet updated the classifications.

"The Lu Song Viceroyalty sends two taels of gold annually to the imperial treasury." Yin Yin Zhengmao led Li Li Yougong to another site, guarded by foreign troops—the Lu Song gold ingot factory. These ingots supplied only the emperor's private treasury. Two taels—barely 750 jin—was this worth such solemn pride?

Of course it was. Great Ming had few gold mines, and their quality was poor.

Han dynasty gold cakes were ancestral ritual objects. Each princely house struggled to obtain sufficient gold—how could one claim to be a feudal prince without it? Gold cakes carried potent political symbolism: submission, reverence, a component of feudal bondage, symbolizing loyalty under the enfeoffment system.

Each small gold bar, a "golden fish," was a ritual vessel, a tribute.

According to Baoyuan Bureau's official rate, one tael of gold equaled sixteen taels of silver. Two taels of gold equaled nearly two hundred thousand silver taels.

Two hundred thousand silver taels were immense. Great Ming was now wealthy, yet this sum could rebuild two-fifths of the Emperor Longqing imperial mausoleum.

On the third day, Li Li Yougong finally recovered fully, walking on land without feeling the world upside down.

Yin Yin Zhengmao began posting notices to cleanse the seas. From September onward, the ten-thousand-li sea frontier would see battles of unknown intensity. Great Ming merchant ships were advised to proceed with caution. The Viceroyalty's word carried weight—when it announced war, war inevitably followed.

Clouds of war gathered over the ten-thousand-li sea frontier. Ports swarmed with warships entering and exiting. Great Ming's firearms, gunpowder, grappling hooks, and landing craft appeared in the harbors. Arab traders began frequenting the Viceroyalty. Before the red-haired barbarians arrived, Arabs had ruled the ten-thousand-li sea frontier; now, they no longer held dominance.

Yin Yin Zhengmao was busy. Zhang Zhang Yuanxun accompanied the Eunuch Lord to several Lu Song plantations: palm plantations produced oil, tung plantations produced tung oil and lacquer, sugarcane plantations produced sugar—especially the cane sugar Captain Antonio prized as Lu Song's flagship product. These plantations ranged from ten thousand to fifty or sixty thousand mu. Surrounding them were vast farmsteads dedicated to rice production—these agricultural goods were Lu Song's export pillars.

The rubber plantations, of great interest to the emperor, covered only a thousand mu. Great Ming lacked experience cultivating them; even Baqis' guidance couldn't match the red-haired barbarians' higher yields.

Beyond plantations, Lin Lin Afeng's pirates became local hunters, specializing in crocodile and venomous snake extermination; others became loggers, clearing forests and reclaiming land. Timber yards and crocodile farms were being established.

A crocodile-based industry was forming. Crocodile skin, a highly prized material, was nearly as valuable as gold.

Compared to other leathers, its greatest advantage: with proper care, it grew shinier with use, enduring forever.

Li Li Yougong gave high praise to Lu Song's development. While the emperor's gaze was elsewhere, Lu Song thrived. Great Ming's destitute tenant farmers and impoverished laborers found livelihoods and survival in Lu Song.

On the first day of the ninth month, the Great Ming navy set sail. Unlike militaristic meritocrats like Zhang Zhang Yuanxun and Feng Deng Zilong, Yin Yin Zhengmao revealed the scholar's cruelty: through his incitement, red-haired barbarians, Arabs, and local natives erupted into fierce conflict.

The Arabs led natives in burning, looting, and slaughtering red-haired barbarian plantations. The red-haired barbarians could only hide behind fortified castles, defending themselves.

Yin Yin Zhengmao, having stirred the waters, set sail with his fleet—the chaos was his opportunity.

Even without Yin Yin Zhengmao's incitement, these conflicts were deep-rooted and irreconcilable. Oppression inevitably sparked rebellion. Yin Yin Zhengmao merely ignited the powder keg at the right moment, then swept the battlefield afterward to claim spoils.

War had begun. The Great Ming navy launched attacks everywhere.

As the plantations on the list were seized one by one, Yin Yin Zhengmao, due to the needs of the war, also occupied over a dozen fine harbors as bases for the Great Ming Navy's garrison and expansion—not out of greed, not out of opportunism, but purely out of military necessity.

During the war, the red-haired barbarians who resisted stubbornly, hoping to defend themselves behind their fortresses, witnessed Yin Yin Zhengmao's overwhelming force: when five ships loaded with coffin explosives charged toward the water gates, the fortresses were shattered one after another in violent explosions.

Zhang Zhang Yuanxun and Feng Deng Zilong began naval operations, while Yin Yin Zhengmao gave an estimated end date for the war: three years.

At least three years would be required.

War works this way: you can decide when to begin, but never when it ends. Yin Yin Zhengmao, this imperial surname lord, did not know when victory would come, nor whether the Great Ming would prevail—but just as Li Li Chengliang's campaign beyond the frontier during the first year of Emperor Wanli, conducted amid heavy snow, held meaning simply because it was waged, so too was this campaign meaningful simply because it was fought.

The Great Ming had not shown its naval power for over one hundred and seventy years; the nations along the ten-thousand-li sea frontier had forgotten the fear of being dominated by the Great Ming. Yin Yin Zhengmao must awaken their slumbering memories, shake their dormant souls, and once again extend the Great Ming's military suzerainty across the ten-thousand-li sea frontier.

This was the Emperor Wanli Sea Frontier of the Great Ming—the buffer zone securing the Great Ming's maritime borders.

Li Li Yougong reluctantly boarded the hydrofoil sailship; his next destination was Naha Haigang in Ryukyu. He truly did not wish to ride the hydrofoil sailship, but he had no choice—he must return to the capital before year's end to report.

In October of the sixth year of Emperor Wanli, Li Li Yougong set foot on Naha Haigang in Ryukyu. The place remained desolate; the former prosperity of the Ten Thousand Nations' Sea Bridge had dwindled to less than one-tenth. Every household wore mourning, every door bore signs of grief—the direct suffering brought by the Japanese pirates still lingered on this land.

Ryukyu could not even muster the fish oil and shark oil needed for its tribute mission to the Great Ming this year; the livelihoods of its people had been utterly destroyed, a stark contrast to the thriving development of Lu Song. Some unremoved infant flags filled Li Li Yougong with rage—children had been killed and hung from flagpoles, and no one had come to remove them, because no one remained alive.

King Shang Jiu of Ryukyu planned to travel to the Great Ming's capital region to personally beg for pardon.

Li Li Yougong judged that Shang Jiu, though claiming to beg pardon, likely sought only to flee to the Great Ming for safety. Ryukyu was still in the midst of war: while the Japanese pirates on Ryukyu's mainland had been largely purged, it remained exceedingly difficult for the Great Ming to launch an offensive against the Shimazu clan of Satsuma.

Everyone fears war—whether poor laborers or powerful magnates. Swords, arrows, and spears have no eyes; are you a king, and will they spare you?

Li Li Yougong still took Shang Jiu along. The Ryukyu king had calculated well—he wanted to escape temporarily, but to return would be as hard as climbing to heaven.

Who toils for the myriad people? Who is the king of the myriad people?

Recommended book: *Saving the Great Ming: I Can Swap Bodies with Emperor Chongzhen*

Summary: In the tenth year of Emperor Chongzhen, Zhu Zhu Changgan, a soul-transmigrated Ming royal prince, wished only to be a leisurely prince—but when the Great Ming collapsed, the first to perish were the royal clans, slaughtered to the last.

He thought of how, in seven years, Li Li Zicheng would enter Beijing, and the Later Jin would seize the Central Plains and slaughter the Han people: "Keep your head, lose your hair; keep your hair, lose your head…"

At that moment, Zhu Zhu Changgan discovered he could swap bodies with Emperor Chongzhen. Direct connection available.

"Do you want to save the Great Ming?"

"Leave the work to me—you just watch. And… stop blabbing!"

(End of Chapter)