Chapter 76: Chapter Seventy-Six: Thin the Xu Family, Enrich the Empire

The Emperor truly does not attend to his duties. Volume Seventy-Six: Thin the Xu Family, Enrich the Empire. After returning to court, Hence Hai Rui resumed his campaign against Xu Xu Jie; Xu Xu Jie refused to return the land, and Hence Hai Rui would not cease until he did. As for Dai Dai Fengxiang, the Assistant Director of the Imperial Horse Breeding Bureau under the Ministry of War—the same man who had accused Hence Hai Rui of oppressing the gentry—Hence Hai Rui did not even mention him, having no intention of quarreling with them.

Hence Hai Rui knew well what was important.

Hence Hai Rui sought only the return of Xu Xu Jie's land.

Xu Xu Jie, the Marquis of Xu Huating—Xu Huating County should be renamed Xu Family Junction—Hence Hai Rui struck straight at the core: the land. This was the foundation of the Xu family, their means of production. Without stripping Xu Xu Jie of his land, he would retain control over production, enforcing personal dependency on tenants and vagrants, thereby monopolizing power and bringing ruin to the region.

But returning the land required specific regulations; otherwise, the act of returning land would merely become Xu Xu Jie giving land back to himself.

Xu Zhen had inherited Ma Yilong's legacy; Zhu Yijun vividly recalled how Xu Zhen's earlier land reclamation efforts in Shanyin, Zhejiang, had been seized. He often muttered, "That was my land!"

When the court ordered land returned, Xu Xu Jie would comply—but once the land became state-owned, he would use his connections and power to reclaim it at minimal cost. These fields might not bear the Xu name for two or three years, but after five or six, once the storm had passed, they would surely bear the Xu name again.

In his hometown of Qiongzhou, Hence Hai Rui had reflected on his past: there was no clear divide between pure and corrupt factions in this empire. The Ming's troubles stemmed from mutual entanglement—you give me a favor today, I give you one tomorrow; you help me, I help you—we're all good friends.

Yet the land-return regulations Hence Hai Rui proposed boiled down to one point: he demanded continued maritime opening.

In this memorial, Hence Hai Rui sharply criticized the opening of Yuegang in Emperor Longqing's first year as a hesitant, timid, indecisive half-measure—a reform that did something, but only a little. It was merely an opening, not true maritime opening!

It had merely cracked open a tiny, insignificant fissure in Ming maritime trade.

Yuegang's geography was poor: a narrow bay, shallow waters, and many reefs. Even two hundred and more three-masted merchant ships per day was its absolute limit. Overseas four-masted sailing vessels could only enter or leave via lighters. It was not a deep-water port and could not be called a good harbor; too many reefs made docking difficult and shipwrecks common.

A good harbor must be found for maritime opening. Thus, the starting point of Zheng He's voyages—Liujia Harbor in Suzhou and the Huangpu River in Songjiang Prefecture—became an excellent candidate. Songjiang Prefecture, a hub connecting nine provinces, facilitated easy distribution of goods and promoted commerce.

If you open the seas, either close Yuegang entirely and shut the country off, ignoring the outside world—or open fully, find a good harbor, encourage trade, and fill the state's and private sector's deficits.

If you're going to do it, do it thoroughly. Hesitation and half-measures are not maritime opening.

Songjiang Prefecture, a hub connecting nine provinces, was the Ming's finest port. Establishing a Maritime Trade Office there and fully opening the seas raised one problem: the Ming navy lacked strength.

Thus, in his memorial, Hence Hai Rui proposed this regulation: Xu Xu Jie returns his land to the surveillance bureaus with military-reclamation status, using Xu Xu Jie's returned land to fund the navy's provisions. Appoint Yu Yu Dayou as Maritime Defense Commander of Songjiang Prefecture to oversee the Ming navy, establish shipyards, and recruit shipwrights to build new vessels.

Hence Hai Rui's memorial, in one phrase: Thin the Xu Family, Enrich the Empire.

This was indeed a matter of great national consequence, requiring careful planning.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng read Hence Hai Rui's "Memorial on the Unfinished Aftermath of Xu Xu Jie's Land Seizure for Long-Term Stability." At first glance, it seemed Hence Hai Rui was pursuing personal vendetta against Xu Xu Jie. But Zhang Zhang Juzheng, an old and experienced official, saw through the ruse immediately: forcing Xu Xu Jie to return land was merely a pretext to kick open the narrow crack of maritime opening and burst the door wide.

Affairs of the empire have constancy and change. Hence Hai Rui, after eliminating extreme abuses, had acted recklessly, overly harsh and inhuman, drawing resentment without achieving results.

A gentleman conducts affairs with both principle and flexibility. Hence Hai Rui had previously failed to adapt to circumstances, pursued reform too urgently, moved too abruptly, and forced action where conditions were unfavorable—thus failing.

After the ups and downs of the Emperor Longqing era, this provincial graduate-born Hai Gangfeng retained his upright ministerial nature but had learned subtlety.

After returning to the capital, Hence Hai Rui's "Memorial for Long-Term Stability" was merely a vision. He was a man who would roll up his sleeves and act. For instance, the first step: restore Yu Yu Dayou's post, transfer him to Songjiang Prefecture, reorganize military defenses, train the navy, then build a shipyard to construct vessels for the navy and merchant fleets.

"The lecture series." Zhu Zhu Yijun did not demand immediate results but instructed Zhang Zhang Juzheng to plan carefully and prepare thoroughly. If you're going to do it, do it completely. If not, don't even mention it.

"Your servant withdraws." Hence Hai Rui was not a lecture scholar, so he left the Zhao Wenhua Palace.

"Your Majesty, Hai Hai Zongxian is the foremost upright minister of the realm, with unyielding integrity. Why not let Hai Hai Zongxian deliver the lecture?" Zhang Zhang Juzheng still had unresolved thoughts and wished Hence Hai Rui to substitute.

Hai Rui immediately bowed and said: "I am merely a provincial graduate. How could I serve as the Emperor's tutor? There is a clear distinction of rank, age, and respect. I lack learning. Let the Grand Secretary handle it."

Hence Hai Rui had spoken with Yang Bo! Yang Bo had warned Hence Hai Rui to beware of the Grand Secretary passing off the lecture duty. This honor should remain solely the Grand Secretary's.

Teaching the Emperor is a noble task.

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled and said: "Then let the Grand Secretary proceed."

Try to escape? Don't even think of it!

"Your servant shall clarify for Your Majesty." Zhang Zhang Juzheng bowed.

Zhu Zhu Yijun asked with a smile: "Will we study the Analects today?"

"Your Majesty, perhaps we should study the Illustrated Mirror for Governance?" Zhang Zhang Juzheng ventured.

"Let's study the Analects first," Zhu Zhu Yijun waved his hand. He was eager to learn the sages' writings—he loved learning!

"Your servant obeys."

…

After the lecture, Zhu Zhu Yijun, accompanied by Feng Bao and Zhang Hong, headed toward the Qianqing Palace. On the way, Zhu Zhu Yijun suddenly stopped and whispered: "Feng Feng Daban, among Emperor Emperor Jiajing's eight sons, only my father survived?"

Feng Bao shuddered and bowed: "Indeed."

Emperor Jiajing, ascending from a collateral line, had fought long over calling his father his father. Later, he was nearly assassinated by palace maids, forced back to court by fire during his southern tour—he barely preserved himself, let alone his children.

Of Emperor Jiajing's five daughters, only two reached marriageable age. Of eight sons and five daughters, only Princess Ning'an remains alive.

Such a mortality rate is clearly abnormal. Had this been normal, the Central Plains would have been depopulated within a few generations.

"Zhang Feng Daban, you heard that too?" Zhu Zhu Yijun asked Zhang Hong.

"I shall spill my liver and brain to protect Your Majesty!" Zhang Hong replied with grave solemnity. He had been appointed Head of the Qianqing Palace for capturing Wang Wang Jinglong; his primary duty was to guard—protecting the Emperor within three zhang, keeping him from danger.

Zhang Hong had said this once before, when entering the Qianqing Palace from the corridor. Now he said it again—he was prepared to die before the Emperor.

"Feng Feng Daban, will our sweet potatoes be ready for harvest tomorrow?" Zhu Zhu Yijun inquired about Feng Bao's work.

During this period, besides biting people in the Zhao Wenhua Palace, Feng Bao devoted all his attention to protecting the sweet potato seedlings in Baoqi Palace. These seedlings were the Emperor's prized treasures, his heart's delight—no carelessness allowed.

"Xu Yu Xue says harvest time is tomorrow," Feng Bao stated with certainty.

"Tomorrow, summon the ministers to accompany me to Baoqi Palace to harvest grain." Zhu Yijun swept his sleeve and strode forward, his voice echoing with quiet resolve: "No demon, no monster, no ghost or fiend shall block my path. Let them come!"

A shameful life is worse than death. For Zhu Zhu Yijun, he would rather die gloriously—even in death, he would live.

For the past few months, the fish in the Taiye Pool had suffered—all thanks to the treacherous eunuch Feng Bao.

Feng Bao had prepared for the Emperor a slingshot with one-inch-long nails tied by string. Zhu Zhu Yijun's aim was now extremely accurate; he spent his days shooting fish in the Taiye Pool, hitting three or four out of nine, proudly calling it "training dynamic targets."

His strength was sufficient to draw a thirty-jin bamboo bow; he had begun training with the light bamboo bow. But due to his age, his light bow training would take over two hundred days.

The next morning, mid-August, late summer sunlight blazed fiercely, almost scorching. Zhu Zhu Yijun rose early, finished breakfast, and changed into a short brown tunic—a coarse hemp top and trousers, practical for labor, worn by the poor and servants, utterly unlike the elegant long robes of scholars.

Zhu Zhu Yijun donned a straw hat and, surrounded by a retinue, marched grandly toward Xuanwu Gate.

Hence Hai Rui, seeing the young Emperor in his short tunic, stood frozen. Is this the attire befitting the supreme Emperor of the Ming? Had the Ministry of Rites not raised a ceremonial dispute over this?

But Hence Hai Rui recalled Lu Lu Shusheng and found it reasonable: Lu Lu Shusheng himself acted improperly—how could he admonish the Emperor?

Protecting the Emperor's inner Three Bonds and Five Constants was Hence Hai Rui's sacred duty!

"Your servants pay homage to Your Majesty. How is Your Majesty's health?" The ministers bowed again.

Zhu Zhu Yijun waved his small hand: "Rise. My lords, follow me."

The gates of the Shanglin Garden slowly opened. Zhu Yijun walked step by step into Jingshan. Baoqi Palace remained low; the greenhouse's glass had been removed, allowing full sunlight to flood in. The sweet potato vines, with heart-shaped leaves, were slightly yellowed but still lush.

He who travels a hundred miles is halfway at ninety. Failure often strikes when success is within reach. Feng Bao had slept overnight in Precious Garden Palace. Though the corridor house was still within the Forbidden City, Precious Garden Palace lay within the garden grounds. Feng Bao was exceedingly cautious to ensure nothing went wrong.

About two hundred men from the Eastern Depot guarded the palace, while over a hundred Red Robes patrolled the outer perimeter.

Even the Tatar Qixia Army would lose several teeth trying to breach it.

As he walked, Zhu Zhu Yijun spoke to the ministers behind him: "Potatoes and sweet potatoes are typically harvested twenty-five to thirty days after transplanting, depending heavily on sunlight and soil temperature. With sufficient sunlight and soil temperature above twenty-one degrees, the tubers rapidly accumulate weight. By forty days after planting, the number of tubers is fixed; vines and leaves require pruning and topping between sixty and ninety days."

"Spring sweet potatoes must be harvested before Cold Dew; summer sweet potatoes kept for seed must be harvested before Frost Descent; those stored for consumption must be harvested before the first frost."

Zhu Zhu Yijun explained sweet potato cultivation, then stopped on the right side. These five mu were all seedlings that had not been pinched back or subjected to high-temperature blanching. He picked up a hoe and, before the stunned eyes of the ministers, stepped into the field.

Zhu Zhu Yijun swiftly cut the vines, dug up an entire sweet potato plant in seconds, lifted the roots, shook off the soil, and tossed it aside.

Xu Zhen led farmers and young eunuchs into the field to harvest.

The Emperor, accompanied by the scholar-official Xu Zhen, a dozen farmers, and eunuchs—all in short tunics—worked the fields, while the assembled ministers, dressed in silk brocade embroidered with birds and beasts, stood at the field's edge watching the young Emperor dig up sweet potatoes.

This scene left Hence Hai Rui momentarily speechless.

Zhu Zhu Yijun worked the land with great efficiency. Though only ten, he had trained in martial arts for over half a year; his body was strong, and he could handle the harvest.

"Feng Bao! You've already finished—what's left for me to harvest!" Zhu Zhu Yijun fumed.

Feng Bao had preemptively harvested!

Feng Bao and the young eunuchs, relying on their adult strength, had harvested so quickly they reached the Emperor's row. But Feng Bao didn't harvest everything—he deliberately left some, ensuring the Emperor felt involved!

Feng Bao adjusted his straw hat and chuckled loudly: "Your Majesty, I don't know what you mean."

No sooner had he spoken than Feng Bao moved faster, harvesting another plant from the Emperor's row. Zhu Zhu Yijun said nothing and increased his pace.

One by one, sweet potatoes covered in soil piled up on the ridges. After being dug up, they were brushed clean and weighed to tally the harvest.

Five mu, over a hundred people—less than half an hour, all sweet potatoes were cleared from the soil.

Zhu Zhu Yijun didn't stop—he led the group to the left field, where all seedlings had undergone pruning and high-temperature blanching. Harvesting here required extra care.

The civil and military ministers on the dry bank also changed into short tunics. The highest form of humiliation is the simplest and most direct: who in the world is more noble than the Emperor? If the Emperor labors in the fields in a short tunic, how could the ministers stand idly by?

The Son of Heaven, supreme in dignity, personally engages in agriculture—not as a show.

The ministers scrambled to find short tunics, changed into them, and hurried into the fields.

Virtue: practicing the principles one has learned.

But Zhu Zhu Yijun had not prepared short tunics for the ministers. Some ministers, seeing the Emperor's attire, knew he would enter the field and immediately sent servants to fetch tunics—even if they had none at home, they bought them immediately, determined not to be without one before the harvest ended.

Hence Hai Rui was the first to find a short tunic. His life was frugal; the short tunic was his daily wear in Qiongzhou, and he had kept one at home after returning to the capital.

The left field was quickly harvested. A few ministers, still without tunics, stood awkwardly on the dry bank.

Who had virtue, who lacked it—clear at a glance.

Among them, Lu Lu Shusheng, Minister of Rites, and Wan Shihé, Vice Minister, had none; the Left and Right Assistant Censors of the Censorate had none. Four men stood at the field's edge, utterly embarrassed.

With many hands, the harvest was soon complete.

Xu Zhen, with young eunuchs, carefully weighed the tubers. After half an hour of weighing, Xu Zhen approached the Emperor with his notebook and announced loudly: "Your Majesty, the right field, without pruning, yielded fifteen thousand thirty-two jin. After tallying the left field, it yielded twenty-five thousand five hundred three jin. At a five-to-one conversion, the right field's yield is six hundred jin per mu; the left field's is one thousand jin per mu."

Ge Ge Shouli asked puzzled: "Why convert? The yield is the yield."

Hence Hai Rui, watching Ge Ge Shouli's confusion, sighed: "Dry weight."

The landless Ge Ge Shouli didn't understand why conversion was needed, but Hence Hai Rui understood immediately.

"Ah, I see," Ge Ge Shouli exclaimed.

Others would keep their questions silent, waiting for private moments to ask. But Ge Ge Shouli? He asked outright.

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled and said: "Minister Ge asks a fine question."

Sweet potatoes must have a fixed conversion standard from the start; otherwise, below, dry weight and fresh weight will be mixed, and the sweet potato's potential will be crippled before it even takes flight.

Sometimes, the court truly needs men like Ge Ge Shouli to ask questions others dare not.

Zhu Zhu Yijun continued, "We cut the sweet potatoes into strips, dried them, and found their dry weight was only slightly more than one-fifth of the original. So, we calculate a five-to-one ratio: the right field yielded six hundred catties per mu, or five shi; the left field yielded one thousand catties per mu, roughly eight shi."

"Luo Luo Gongchen did not deceive me—he spoke of fresh weight, while our figures of five shi and eight shi per mu refer to dry weight."

"So many hands tend these ten mu, ensuring perfect weather, no disease, no disaster—the eunuchs would rather crush every aphid themselves. In the countryside, yields would still drop; even if we halve them, sweet potatoes remain the top among miscellaneous crops, the foremost means of famine relief."

Zhu Zhu Yijun held in his left hand a sweet potato the size of an adult's fist, and in his right, a potato the size of a child's fist. A smile curled at his lips, then spread into the radiant expression of harvest.

Sweet potatoes and potatoes are both miscellaneous crops—not economic crops like yellow leeks—but grain crops nonetheless, merely not dominant like wheat or rice. They enrich the diversity of Great Ming's grain crops; their purpose is famine relief.

Hence Hai Rui looked at the piles of sweet potatoes and immediately understood their vital significance. He bowed deeply and said, "When grain is insufficient, food is insufficient. When food is insufficient, the people's livelihood fails. Agriculture is the source of food and clothing, the foremost duty of royal governance."

"In famine years, in mountainous and coastal lands where soil is poor and people are poor, when heaven's rain fails and famine spreads, the starving cry out for food. I, your subject, congratulate Your Majesty. I congratulate Great Ming."

"We, your subjects, congratulate Your Majesty! We congratulate Great Ming!" The ministers bowed quickly. Wasn't Hence Hai Rui a straight-talking minister? Why, after returning to the capital, did he speak only flattery? He didn't even urge the Emperor to follow the righteous path—he led the chorus of praise!

Why did Hence Hai Rui submit the "Memorial on State Stability"? Because Emperor Emperor Jiajing stubbornly pursued mystic cultivation for over twenty years, never attending court—so Hence Hai Rui dared to speak plainly.

"Your Majesty, the potatoes and sweet potatoes in the Western Garden have also been harvested." Zhang Hong, dressed in a short brown tunic, ran swiftly, panting as he bowed to report.

The Western Garden was where Emperor Emperor Jiajing pursued mystic cultivation—the vast area including Taiye Lake, Beihai, Zhonghai, and Nanhai, west of Your Majesty Mountain, accessible via two gates: Zhishan Gate and Taiye Bridge to the isle of Qionghua.

On the isle stood Guanghan Palace. After the Renyin Palace Incident, when palace maids nearly strangled him, Emperor Emperor Jiajing moved into Guanghan Palace in the Western Garden. Everywhere else was water; only Taiye Bridge and Chengguang Palace connected to the isle.

After the Renyin Palace Incident, Yan Song served long-term in Chengguang Palace outside Taiye Bridge.

For twenty years, Emperor Emperor Jiajing lived deep within the Western Garden, never residing in the Forbidden City, but in this palace garden outside—the Western Garden.

Zhu Yijun transformed the Hundred Fruit Garden beneath Meishan into seedling rooms and Precious Garden Palace, but he didn't put all his eggs in one basket. Precious Garden Palace was public, a target; the vast flower gardens on Qionghua Island in the Western Garden remained hidden, mirroring the layout beneath Jingshan.

"How was the harvest?" Zhu Zhu Yijun asked Zhang Hong.

Zhang Hong pulled out a small notebook and reported the figures: unprocessed seedlings yielded five shi per mu in dry weight; pinched and blanched seedlings yielded eight shi per mu—nearly identical to the yields beneath Jingshan.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng had Feng Bao as his reliable informant inside the palace—he didn't even know the Western Garden was cultivating crops, let alone others who received only vague rumors.

The young Emperor was so cautious. Even within the Forbidden City, with layers of personnel and such tight security, he still carved out a backup plot in the Western Garden, to guard against any mishap at Jingshan's Precious Garden Palace.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng never thought this was Feng Bao's idea. In the past half-year, he had interacted frequently with the Emperor—it was clearly the Emperor's doing. Who was the Emperor guarding against? Obvious: someone scheming from within.

Zhang Juzheng pondered long—perhaps he himself was on that list of suspects, for he hadn't known the Western Garden housed another Precious Garden Palace.

Where had this cunning, "three burrows of the clever rabbit," been learned?

Zhang Zhang Juzheng pondered long—it seemed he had learned it from himself…

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled broadly and said, "Excellent, excellent. I, of humble virtue and youthful age, ascend the throne, relying on the aid of civil and military ministers. This is a fine remedy for famine, a joy for Great Ming. Feng Da, give each of the twenty-seven court ministers five catties of sweet potato to take home."

A gift: sweet potatoes personally harvested by the Emperor—every one of the twenty-seven court ministers received a share.

"Thank Your Majesty's grace," the ministers bowed again. The reward held little monetary value—equivalent to one catty of rice in dry weight—but it was grown by the Emperor's own hands, its meaning profound.

Zhu Zhu Yijun glanced at Xu Zhen. Xu Zhen stared at the piles of sweet potatoes, grinning foolishly, utterly unaware the young Emperor was watching him.

Feng Bao gently nudged Xu Zhen. Xu Zhen blinked, confused, then suddenly understood. He hurried to Precious Garden Palace, retrieved a memorial, and handed it to Zhang Juzheng: "Your Excellency, this is the memorial 'Memorial on Reviving Agriculture, Emphasizing Roots, and Establishing the Precious Garden Office,' written at the Emperor's instruction."

Zhu Yijun looked at Xu Zhen, slightly exasperated. This memorial was meant to grant Xu Zhen credit—it was indeed his imperial command. The Precious Garden Office would specialize in agricultural research: tools, fertilizer, farming practices, seasonal cycles, plant protection, animal husbandry, and improvement of foreign crops.

But could he openly say it was the Emperor's idea?!

Couldn't he just say he wrote it himself?!

Xu Zhen had weighed his words carefully: credit to himself, blame to the throne, self-interest above all—but Xu Zhen could not do such a thing. If it was the Emperor's idea, then it was good; whoever received this favor would owe it to the Emperor.

Moreover, the memorial placed the Precious Garden Office's location within the Western Garden. If Xu Zhen claimed it as his own idea, who would believe him?

Zhu Zhu Yijun used Xu Zhen's hand to propose this precisely because he had not yet taken personal rule—he had to circle around it. This maneuver created political space: everyone had room to retreat or advance, none forced into a corner.

If Zhang Zhang Juzheng opposed, he would reject Xu Zhen, not the Emperor.

But Xu Zhen bluntly declared it the Emperor's idea—erasing all that space.

Xu Zhen was a talent—nothing else, only farming.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng took the memorial, read it briefly, and bowed: "Your Majesty, allow me to study it thoroughly. Before the evening drum, I shall submit a floating ticket for imperial deliberation."

Zhang Zhang Juzheng held no disrespect for the Emperor's edict—even if conveyed through Xu Zhen, he would follow every procedure, treating it with solemn care.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng was no Yan Song, no Xu Xu Jie, no Gao Gong. He had no political heir. His greatest hope was that the Emperor would mature, become capable, lead Great Ming out of its mire, restore its vigor, and revive its glory.

Seeing the Emperor willing to act—and capable of succeeding—he was delighted, not obstructive.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng needed to confirm the palace eunuchs had not deceived the Emperor.

As for the Precious Garden Office's expenses, Zhang Cheng and Luo Gongchen had just returned from the Imperial Southern Treasury with a large sum of silver—more than sufficient.

"Your Majesty, I humbly request the recall of Marquis Qi Qi Jiguang to the capital to oversee the cultivation of sweet potato seedlings in the three frontier garrisons." Zhang Zhang Juzheng bowed.

Qi Qi Jiguang was a frontier general—how could he easily return to the capital? But the Emperor had granted him the title Marquis of An, transforming him into a military noble. Now he could return at any time. Though military nobles had declined, they remained nobles. When stationed locally, they were "guest officers"—visitors elsewhere.

With his military noble status, Qi Qi Jiguang could return to the capital anytime.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng petitioned for Qi Qi Jiguang's recall primarily because the time had come to appoint a commander for the capital troops. Neither Wu Wu Baipeng, Left Vice Minister of War, nor Deputy Commander Yang Wen was suitable. Qi Qi Jiguang was.

Put plainly: Yang Wen and Wu Wu Baipeng could not control the unruly officers. They needed to summon General Qi—the great deity—to hold the line.

Ge Ge Shouli immediately stepped forward and bowed: "Your Majesty, I humbly request the recall of former Commander of Datong, Ma Fang, to oversee sweet potato cultivation in Xuan and Da."

Qi Qi Jiguang could fight—and the Jin Party's Ma Fang could fight too!

Ma Fang's status was awkward. As a child, he was captured; as a youth, he escaped back. His southern return identity made him distrusted during the intense Ming-Tatar conflicts from Emperor Jiajing 32 to 45. He rose from a common soldier through battlefield merit alone. Had Emperor Emperor Jiajing not declared, "No one fights better than Ma Fang," he would never have reached the rank of Regional Commander.

"Marquis Ma's third eye"—that was Ma Fang, the general with eyes in the back of his head.

Ge Ge Shouli was blunt, but he remembered every word Yang Bo had told him: uphold the Emperor's authority. If Zhang Zhang Juzheng acted, the Jin Party would follow.

If Zhang Zhang Juzheng succeeded, it was his due. If the Jin Party achieved anything, it proved their loyalty.

Zhang Juzheng paused, then said: "Marquis Ge speaks wisely. Frontier lands are barren, irrigation difficult. Cultivating sweet potatoes for famine relief is perfect. Xuanfu and Datong must also cultivate them to strengthen the frontier."

Zhang Zhang Juzheng needed the Jin Party—or any other faction—to maintain balance, at least the appearance of it. A man becomes an adult at fifteen, marries, and establishes his household at twenty. The Emperor must reach fifteen to assume personal rule, and twenty to govern fully.

For these ten years, Zhang Zhang Juzheng could not allow a one-party monopoly. Otherwise, even if he did not wish it, others would push him forward.

The position of Grand Secretary: one step back is an abyss, one step forward, a traitor of history.

Hence Hai Rui thought, then bowed: "Your Majesty, I suggest summoning Yu Yu Dayou to the capital to lead sweet potato cultivation and maintain his troops' fighting spirit."

Yu Yu Dayou was summoned because of Hence Hai Rui's "Memorial on Securing Stability," which advocated opening the seas. Opening the seas would bring many troubles—without sharp blades, it could never proceed peacefully.

"Then each of you draft a memorial. We shall deliberate tomorrow." Zhu Zhu Yijun waved his small hand. "That's all for today. I return to the palace to practice martial arts."

Zhu Zhu Yijun looked at the piles of sweet potatoes and smiled.

"We humbly bid farewell to Your Majesty." The ministers bowed. The twenty-seven court ministers of Great Ming's power center had indeed disgraced their dignity today—but sweet potatoes were the top among miscellaneous crops, the foremost means of famine relief. In future, they could say: "I helped relieve famine!"

That night, in the Zhao Wenchang Pavilion of the Quanchu Guildhall, lights burned bright. Zhang Zhang Juzheng sat at the head, Yang Bo on the left, Hence Hai Rui on the right.

"I summoned you both today for one matter: Grand Minister Yang has submitted his resignation, and Lu Lu Shusheng has too. Two ministries now lie vacant." Zhang Zhang Juzheng stated plainly why he had called Yang Bo and Hence Hai Rui to the Quanchu Guildhall.

It wasn't that Hence Hai Rui held great influence—it was his clean reputation. Let him witness: if censors protested this round of appointments, Hence Hai Rui had seen it with his own eyes—there would be a neutral witness.

To avoid endless public criticism that would leave everyone humiliated, Zhang Zhang Juzheng had welcomed Hence Hai Rui's return partly to use him.

Politics is this cold, ruthless game.

"Will Grand Minister Yang truly not stay?" Zhang Zhang Juzheng asked Yang Bo with genuine concern.

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