Chapter 788: No Borrowing, Only Begging

Zhu Zhu Yijun clearly understood that the scale of debt was uncontrollable.

He had already planned to dissolve the Cabinet and rebuild it once the debt became utterly unpayable, blaming corrupt ministers for misleading the emperor—a tactic repeatedly played out in history.

But Wang Wang Guoguang had said from the start: the debt must be repaid; if the court didn't pay, the people would pay.

Securities were debt; paper currency was debt; salt certificates were debt—any money owed had to be repaid, the question was only who would repay it.

Under a monetary system based on silver coins and copper cash, if the court didn't repay, the loss of principal by local gentry, powerful elites, and wealthy merchants would be recouped by squeezing the poor and laborers, doubling back to recover their losses.

The court could not harshly criticize them, because the court owed them silver.

Even if, in the future, a golden narrative were spun and silver-backed treasure notes issued, debt could be repaid through another method: printing vast quantities of notes, letting inflation rapidly erode the debt.

By printing vast quantities of notes, the court's creditors held more money, but the people's money did not increase proportionally; with more money and fewer goods, the people's currency became worthless, depreciated, and the cost of soaring prices fell entirely on the people.

This too was a way of repayment—essentially all were forms of exploitation, with no fundamental difference; all were the ruling class condoning the exploitation by local elites.

Whether under a coinage system or a paper currency system, any debt incurred must be repaid.

And there was a terrifying problem here: corruption spreads.

In the process of corruption spreading and societal disorder, even the powerful elites could not remain untouched, for corruption would permeate every corner of society—even the rich could not escape.

For example, regarding security: during periods of stable order, wealthy neighborhoods enjoyed better public safety than slums, and urban security in the Great Ming far surpassed that of the countryside; but as order gradually collapsed, security became a luxury.

Five years after the famous Ming traveler Xu Xiake died, during the Zhongyuan Festival, a slave revolt erupted in his home; tenant farmers and servants stormed the Xu family mansion and slaughtered nearly the entire household, leaving only one concubine's son and one nephew alive.

For example, education: during stable order, the wealthy could enjoy superior education; even if their descendants were incompetent, they could still hire renowned masters, polish their image as literati, and live a graceful life—but when order decayed, education too became a luxury.

In the late Yuan and early Ming, Zhu Zhu Yuanzhang could not even assemble enough officials to govern the state, which is why he cracked down harshly, demanding scholars enter service, while some chose to feign madness.

But by the Emperor Wanli era, even Sun Sun Shangli's juren degree could not secure him entry into the Southern Yamen due to his poor reputation.

For example, fire prevention.

During stable order, the night watchmen in the watchtowers would patrol regularly, warning people to be careful with fire; firemen were on constant standby, rushing to extinguish fires for a small reward—yet even then, they might be scolded for arriving too late.

But in the process of spreading corruption and societal collapse, even the mansions of powerful elites might not be safe.

Borrowing to develop would likely accelerate the empire's decay—that was precisely why the Ministry of Revenue staunchly resisted; debt is debt, and it will be repaid in one way or another.

The Ming court ministers did not trust the wisdom of future generations; history had repeatedly proven that future generations were unreliable.

The main strategy of Ming statesmen was to amass a large inheritance during the dynasty's ascending phase, leaving it for descendants to squander.

It was like sliding on a watermelon rind—wherever you slid, you slid; if you fell through, the dynasty collapsed.

This was why Zhang Zhang Juzheng, Wang Wang Chonggu, and others always felt time was running out, always eager to finish things sooner.

"Your Majesty, the most urgent priority of the Official Selection Law is to establish teacher training academies," Liang Liang Menglong stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty personally tends to agriculture and sericulture, yet this barren land cannot yield a harvest."

"Land reclamation requires clearing wilderness, felling trees, uprooting stumps, removing stones and debris from the soil; newly reclaimed fields must lie fallow for three years to fully eliminate weeds. Moreover, irrigation canals must be built—without water, there is no farmland; only then does it become arable land."

"Even then, it depends on the heavens' mood—only with favorable winds and timely rains can a harvest be expected."

"For the Official Selection Law to yield abundant harvests, it must succeed through the Dinghai education system led by Gao Zhu Qiyu."

Land reclamation is extremely arduous; every step—from wilderness to virgin land, from virgin to cultivated land, from cultivated to regular fields—cannot be omitted.

Beyond reclamation, roads and canals must be built; only then is reclamation truly complete. For the Official Selection Law to succeed, it must rely entirely on the success of the Dinghai education system.

Only when the Great Ming universally implements education and enough literate scholars emerge can the Official Selection Law truly select capable talent.

The bureaucratic system grows from the education system; if the education system collapses entirely and is monopolized by a few, the bureaucracy will rot.

Liang Liang Menglong continued: "In this era of rapid change in the Great Ming, where all things renew daily, fulfilling the duties of every office demands more specialized talent. Compared to the Kaocheng system, the Official Selection Law places greater emphasis on professional competence and track record—on capable, diligent officials."

"Academies must have teachers. At present, the Jiulong University Academy can still hire scholars from the Capital University Academy as instructors, and the Capital University Academy can meet this need. But under the Dinghai system, how can higher, middle, and elementary academies hire enough qualified instructors to teach and resolve doubts? I believe they cannot."

"Private academies and family schools offer higher tuition fees; public academies funded by the court cannot match those payments, so they must cultivate teachers themselves."

"At this moment, we must urgently establish teacher training academies and proceed swiftly."

"It is the Imperial Institute of Technology, not the Capital University Academy," Zhang Zhang Juzheng corrected Liang Liang Menglong's wording. Some called the Institute of Technology the Capital University Academy to strip away the words "Imperial."

The Institute of Technology belongs to His Majesty; it is fully funded, fully staffed, and maintained from the imperial treasury—hence the Ministry of Revenue says that students who do not serve the court are ungrateful.

For there is real grace: the 120 silver taels in tuition includes a 60-tael interest-free loan from His Majesty, and the stipend for food and lighting is also personally provided by the emperor.

After Zhang Zhang Juzheng corrected Liang Liang Menglong's words, the ministers fell silent; even the emperor's fingers repeatedly tapped on the table, clearly deep in thought.

Liang Liang Menglong frowned; he believed his argument was sound—why were the grand secretaries silent? This atmosphere felt wrong!

"Junior Minister of Personnel, we are out of money," Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed heavily, his sigh echoing through the Zhao Wenhua Hall.

Zhu Zhu Yijun, the richest man in the realm, admitted he was a pauper.

"Korea is at war, the Longkai expressway is under construction, and we must hoard gold to prepare for issuing treasure notes. My imperial treasury still has some silver, but only enough to repair the Jiulong University Academy—nothing more."

"The state treasury is the same."

Wang Wang Guoguang pondered and said: "There are still eight million taels in the old reserve. Should His Majesty draw them out?"

Zhu Zhu Yijun glanced at Wang Wang Guoguang in surprise—this man was the second stingiest in Great Ming!

The old reserve silver had been counted coin by coin by Wang Wang Guoguang himself and stored away; he inspected it annually, checked it daily, even verified every speck of dust.

That eight-million-tael reserve was Great Ming's lifeline; Wang Wang Guoguang had only been willing to release it before the war, but because wealthy elites had donated, it remained untouched.

Now, for education, this most miserly man had become generous.

"I am deeply comforted that the Grand Minister of Revenue is willing to release the old reserve. We must never let education suffer from lack of funds," Zhu Zhu Yijun said after thought. "Let the Tax Inspection Bureau take over taxation—I'll loosen the reins and let them operate freely."

"When the outcry reaches a fever pitch, I'll recall the Tax Inspection envoys; when the timing is right, I'll send them out again."

The cost of universal education in Great Ming would be borne by the emperor's reputation and the wealthy elites.

Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed: "Moreover, education is unsuitable for borrowing—it is not an asset; it is pure loss."

Zhao Meng, seated at the end, could no longer hold back—he stepped forward and reported: "Your Majesty, the Tax Inspection Bureau was hard to establish, and once recalled, it will be exceedingly difficult to deploy again. Please consider carefully."

The emperor could clearly distinguish between a full meal and a half-meal—but wasn't this the only option now?

We must focus on the immediate.

To implement the Dinghai education system, the Jiulong University Academy and the teacher training academies must advance together; otherwise, even if the university is built, there will be no students—since higher, middle, elementary, artisan, and primary academies have no pupils, where will the university get its students?

Talent does not grow from the ground like crops, maturing once a year or even nine times every two years; cultivating one talent under the Dinghai system requires at least fifteen years—not ten years of hardship, but fifteen.

"Your Majesty, the Tax Inspection Bureau must not be abolished due to overzealous taxation—it is the court's purse. Money, after all, is simple," Zhang Zhang Juzheng stepped forward immediately upon seeing the emperor troubled by silver. Isn't it just silver?

The Tax Inspection Bureau's approach mirrors anti-corruption: it raises the cost of tax evasion, curbs the scale of tax avoidance within and beyond Great Ming, reduces inspection scope through voluntary reporting, uses Li Kaifang's formula to screen targets, increases the probability of successful inspections, and lowers inspection costs.

Great Ming spent fifteen full years establishing a preliminarily effective Tax Inspection Bureau; its tax laws and collection systems revolve almost entirely around this bureau.

If the Tax Inspection Bureau vanished, it would be like the emperor losing his Capital Garrison—Great Ming's tax system would immediately become perilous.

The existence of the Tax Inspection Bureau is more vital than His Majesty imagines—it is a crucial force in local power struggles.

"I will issue official letters to provincial governors, urging local elites to donate funds for building teacher training academies," Zhang Zhang Juzheng said calmly. "If the funds are genuinely used for academies—not diverted elsewhere—the elites will accept it."

Not all Great Ming elites and gentry are rebels determined to oppose the court.

Great Ming's campaign against the Japanese in Korea raised enough grain and funds to support the army for two full years; some even heard the news late, hesitated, and later tried to donate—but had no way to do so.

Yin Yin Zhengmao and Ling Ling Yunyi in Guangdong and Guangxi forced elites to donate military funds; when Yin and Ling truly defeated the Japanese, the Guangxi elites accepted it.

After the two departed, Guangxi elites all missed Minister Yin and Minister Ling—because at least they were straightforward, acted boldly and clearly, leaving no room for guesswork.

If the court asks the wealthy to donate, and if the donation amount is clearly inscribed on a stele in the academy and recorded in local gazetteers, many will willingly contribute.

"Publicize it clearly—post notices. If the silver is truly used for education, invite local elites to unveil the stele at the opening ceremony, let them enjoy the praise, and their resentment will diminish." Zhang Zhang Juzheng succinctly explained his plan.

He knew the imperial and state treasuries had little silver left—otherwise the emperor would not have mentioned borrowing.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's method was simple: no borrowing, only begging.

Begging is not shameful; the founding emperor of Great Ming, Zhu Zhu Yuanzhang, was a beggar himself, and he preserved his beggar past—not to boast, but to prevent future generations from fabricating falsehoods.

It was ancestral precedent.

Since Liang Liang Menglong proposed this, he must have consulted his teacher Zhang Zhang Juzheng; fiscal strain was the current reality, and until the Longkai expressway was completed, the court would likely remain strained.

Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed: "Master's method is good, but it may not be enough—education is expensive."

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's eyes narrowed slightly, calmly saying: "If they refuse to donate, simply add refusal to donate to the list of conditions for tax evasion. If they meet this condition, combined with others, they become targets for targeted tax inspection."

"Post notices seeking tax evasion tips: I donated, but you didn't? The elites will naturally report what they know to the Tax Inspection Bureau."

"To defy the court's orders is to refuse loyalty to the sovereign and the state, to refuse promoting education and the cultural heritage of one's hometown—it is to refuse governing the land and caring for the people."

These are no ordinary elites; decisive action is required!

Screening.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng understood these elites and gentry well: if rigorously examined, one out of nine might be an upright man with strict family discipline—that would be lucky. A thorough review would inevitably uncover problems.

Even Zhang Zhang Juzheng himself, if investigated by Hai Rui's standards, would have had enough bribes from his early years to warrant dismissal and stripping of his titles and scholarly degrees.

He had stolen. And not a little.

The Tax Inspection Bureau only handles tax inspection; tax inspection itself is an extremely sharp blade.

In the Zhao Wenhua Hall, even Liang Liang Menglong and the other ministers glanced at Zhang Zhang Juzheng—this was unmistakably his style: never strike unless striking hard, and when he struck, it was a series of blows, each harder and deadlier than the last.

"Then let it be as Master suggests," Zhu Zhu Yijun thought for a moment and approved Zhang Zhang Juzheng's plan.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's method was simple: it circled around the problem—many matters in court gained flexibility by circling, rather than trapping oneself in utter passivity.

Wang Wang Chonggu excelled in speed, rushing headlong; Zhang Zhang Juzheng excelled in detours, turning the path.

"Your Majesty is wise," Zhang Zhang Juzheng returned to his high-backed chair. The emperor was indeed wise; ministers must learn to ease the emperor's burdens.

The emperor had not slacked off—yesterday's and the day before's memorials had already been annotated; they were merely delivered to the Cabinet today, demonstrating attitude, not laziness.

The Daoist Master once slacked off, appearing and disappearing like a divine dragon—ministers could not even meet him.

The emperor would not. Even if he stole half a day's rest, he would visit the Capital Garrison to inspect troops—giving his ministers the chance to confront him.

On the third day of the fifth month of the fifteenth year of Emperor Wanli, the capital of Great Ming grew lively again due to the Kaihu Inspection Day; major wine merchants were all striving fiercely to win the title of the empire's finest wine, with this year's favorites being Attendant Shen Zhang Xian Wine from Shanghai County and Kuaiqu Wine from the Northern Southern Yamen.

Because the Imperial Institute of Technology and the Shanghai Academy held unique advantages in microbial engineering.

Both academies had isolated hundreds of microbial strains from various wine ferments; these strains produced diverse flavor compounds during fermentation—flavors of sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty, umami, astringent, and more.

The progress of research on microbial communities, flavor compounds, and taste determined the rankings on Kaihu Inspection Day—the more thoroughly one understood these, the more delicious their wine became.

The competition over wine ferments, the competition in microbial engineering—between the northern and southern academies—was a clash of sharp points, determined to claim the top prize on this Kaihu Inspection Day.

The fifth year of the Great Ming's Kai Gu Dianjian has arrived; apart from the hasty first year, every subsequent year has granted enormous economic benefits to the distillery that won the top prize.

Some distilleries expanded their production scale several-fold within a single year; their hearths blazed like houses, smoke rising high, visible for miles.

The national liquor brewed from the dregs of sweet potato and potato starch production tasted poor—even failing to qualify as grain liquor—yet it remained the top-selling liquor in the Great Ming.

After all, this stuff was sold only at the imperial estates: unpleasant to drink and absurdly expensive, yet no one dared say it tasted bad, fearing they'd be kicked down their door by the Embroidered Uniform Guard for tax inspection the next day.

As the Great Ming vigorously launched its Kai Gu Dianjian, the Korean theater witnessed new developments.

Even though Qi Qi Jiguang carefully controlled the pace of advance, the Great Ming army still reached the outskirts of Chungju City; the main force and the central command tent were stationed at Son of Heaven Mountain's Wanfu Pagoda, while the vanguard had already arrived beneath Chungju's walls.

The capital of Korea was called Hancheng; a river ran through it called the Hanjiang, and Chungju lay upstream on the Hanjiang. After capturing Chungju, the Japanese invaders would face an open plain to the north.

"Chungju sits upstream of the Hanjiang, the gateway to the Korean capital region. If Chungju falls, hundreds of miles along the river become enemy territory. Unless our army takes Chungju, we cannot advance southeast to reclaim lost lands—Chungju is vital," Chen Da explained Chungju's strategic position.

Since both Chungju and Hancheng draw water from the Hanjiang, the Great Ming army must first seize Chungju to operate broadly and reclaim territory; otherwise, the battles for Hancheng and Incheon would have been in vain.

Every time the Great Ming army moves, the Japanese will rush to attack, leaving the Ming forces caught between two fronts.

"Actually, the Korean righteous armies could hold Hancheng," Li Li Shunchen had arrived from Pyongyang at the frontline of Son of Heaven Mountain's Wanfu Pagoda.

He proposed that Korean troops defend Hancheng, Yangpyeong, and Hwaseong, while the Great Ming army advanced southeast to reclaim Qingzhou, Jinsan, Gunsan, Jeonju, and Gwangju.

The only issue was whether the Korean army could hold Hancheng.

Qi Qi Jiguang shook his head: "At present, Tian'an is defended by the Liaodong troops. Let's take Chungju first. It's not that I distrust the Korean righteous armies—I know well that General Li's forces are entirely different from the old Korean army."

"But General Li must also consider: the Great Ming army crossed the sea; we cannot afford even a single failure. A defeat means total collapse—not just Korea loses, but the Great Ming loses, and the Emperor Wanli Reforms lose."

"Do you understand? His Majesty has staked the Great Ming's fate on this war to save Korea—a battle where victory is mandatory, and defeat is unthinkable."

Qi Qi Jiguang gave his reasons: it was not a lack of faith in the Korean righteous armies' combat power.

The bravery of these righteous troops had even earned Li Li Rusong's repeated praise.

Li Li Rusong, through his telescope, had seen a Korean righteous soldier, wounded by three slashes—one on the arm, one on the shoulder, one on the head—yet he clamped his teeth onto the Japanese soldier's hand, using elbows, shoulders, teeth, gouging eyes, and kicking the groin to wrest the short sword away and kill his foe in a ditch.

The entire fight lasted nearly fifteen minutes; by the time Li Li Rusong arrived with reinforcements, the righteous soldier had already slain his opponent.

The accompanying medic treated him; though he wouldn't die, he had permanently lost one eye.

The righteous armies sought revenge—fierce, unrelenting revenge. Their sole reason for living was to kill the Japanese.

Their hatred for the Japanese stemmed from shattered homes, a ruined nation, and bloody vengeance; the Korean righteous armies had suffered thousands of casualties, literally chewing through a Japanese-built mountain fortress.

These were a very brave group of men.

The Korean righteous armies had a ninety percent chance of holding off the Japanese mad dogs, but the remaining ten percent risked defeat—and Qi Qi Jiguang could not make such a gamble.

Call him cowardly, call him fearful—if he lost this war, Qi Qi Jiguang could not afford it.

The Japanese invaded; the Great Ming had no choice but to fight. Otherwise, if the Japanese landed, the Great Ming would know no peace for a thousand generations.

"Chungju is hard to take," Li Li Shunchen placed the Chungju topographic map on the table, his face grim. "Two tributaries of the Hanjiang converge at Dangyeon Terrace, their currents swift. Outside Chungju City stand four mountain fortresses: Jiming Mountain Fortress, Nanshan Mountain Fortress, Houshan Mountain Fortress, and Dalin Mountain Fortress."

"Nanshan Mountain Fortress and Chungju City form a pincer formation—this only adds insult to injury."

"To cross the river and attack, we must capture each surrounding mountain fortress before we can fully seize Chungju."

Chungju—a hard bone to chew. Without taking Chungju, the Great Ming cannot continue reclaiming lost territory; yet taking it is extremely difficult.

"Indeed, Chungju is surrounded by mountains on two sides and water on two others, nestled against hills and rivers—no matter how you look at it, it's a pass where one man can hold off ten thousand. How, then, did such a vital city fall?"

"It collapsed without a fight—it was handed over," Wang Wang Rulong said to Li Li Shunchen. "If the deposed King Yi Yeon hadn't made such disastrous decisions, why would the Great Ming army have to chew such a hard bone?"

"If Yi Yeon had been even half a man, could Chungju have fallen? The Japanese didn't grow wings—could he fly away?"

The Southern Song once had a similar city: Diaoyu City. Even Möngke Khan, who nearly conquered the West, died in defeat before Diaoyu's walls.

When Möngke joined the Mongol Great Western Campaign, he conquered Rus' and became the founder of the Golden Horde, which collected taxes there until Hongzhi Fifteen.

The Chungju City the Great Ming army faced bore some resemblance to Diaoyu City.

Hard to take.

Qi Qi Jiguang ordered: "Li Li Rusong and Ma Fang each lead two infantry battalions across the river from the northeast to attack Jiming Mountain."

"Chen Da and Wang Wang Rulong each lead two infantry battalions across the river from the southwest to attack Dalin Mountain and Houshan."

"Li Li Shunchen, lead your own force in a feint attack on Dangyeon Terrace—make a great show: beat the drums, blow the horns. I'll give you one hundred and twenty boats. At dawn tomorrow, create maximum noise to draw the Japanese attention in Chungju."

"Win Chungju within three days!"

"Your servant accepts the order!" All commanders replied.

Qi Qi Jiguang had made his deployment: the hardest bone went to Li Li Rusong and Ma Fang; the relatively weaker Dalin and Houshan sectors went to Chen Da, whose role was primarily to divert the enemy's attention, making them believe they were under attack from all sides.

"Commander Qi, will the Great Ming army use elite troops to fill the mountain fortresses?" Li Li Shunchen clenched his fist. "Give me Nanshan Mountain Fortress—I'll chew it!"

Japanese mountain fortresses, with their labyrinthine designs, were impossible to defend against—only human lives could break them.

"Of course not," Qi Qi Jiguang shook his head. "Nine-jin cannons will crack open the turtle shells. Then our troops walk in."

"Huh?" Li Li Shunchen blinked.

Qi Qi Jiguang smiled broadly: "His Majesty, sensing the mountain fortresses were stalling our advance, specially ordered ten thousand sets of iron-reinforced armor from the rear—using heavy infantry to crack open the turtle shells."

Li Li Shunchen's eyes widened. "Ten thousand sets?!"

Li Li Shunchen knew full well how terrifying the Great Ming's iron-reinforced armor was.

Even the Hu Li bow and Ping Yi musket needed sixty paces to pierce it—and even then, only if aimed precisely; otherwise, the curved surfaces would deflect arrows and lead balls, rendering them ineffective.

The Japanese standard sixty-jin bow could not penetrate it at all.

Ten thousand sets of iron-reinforced armor, combined with the Great Ming army's already high armor-wearing rate, were enough to let every soldier wear armor and crack open the turtle shells.

Qi Qi Jiguang sighed: "In my Treatise on War, I repeatedly emphasized that war is a contest of manpower, material, and morale. The Great Ming's strength allows it to deploy tailored responses to any complex battlefield."

"Undoubtedly, in open terrain, unarmored musketeers move more freely and carry more gunpowder to kill more efficiently."

"But in siege warfare—especially against Japanese mountain fortresses built along narrow paths—heavy infantry is their natural counter."

The Treatise on War was a military doctrine bridging the transition from cold weapons to firearms.

He had begun contemplating it since arriving in Jizhou to resist the barbarians, but had lacked the means to test it—practicing its principles was simply too expensive.

A theory without practical validation, no matter how visionary, was mere paper warfare.

Muskets, cannons, gunpowder, quality recruits, and intense training all required real gold and silver.

Only after fifteen years of the Great Ming's vast resources and His Majesty's prudent foresight did Qi Qi Jiguang finally receive the chance to test his theories.

Previously, Li Li Rusong believed heavy cavalry and heavy infantry—clumsy units—would vanish with the rise of firearms. Yet Qi Qi Jiguang had preserved training for three thousand heavy cavalry and heavy infantry.

Now, they were put to use.

Qi Qi Jiguang bowed toward the capital: "His Majesty is not skilled in commanding troops, yet he understands the weight of logistics—thus he can plan within the tent and decide victory a thousand miles away."

"His Majesty is wise."

His Majesty had given far too much!

Before commanding the Capital Troops, his victories were indeed due to his own brilliance. But since taking command of the Capital Troops, half his victories owed to His Majesty's virtue.