Chapter 790: I Have Only One Rule—Everything Is Settled by Bai Yin!

It is not easy to leave one's name in history; it is truly, truly difficult.

Donating can earn one lasting fame, even just a stele in a normal school.

For these extravagant households who did not know where to spend their silver, the temptation was immense; thus, the main challenge in fundraising for the Great Ming Capital Normal School was not forcing the powerful elites to donate, but dividing the spoils.

This also involved a matter of confidence: the powerful elites of Great Ming had great faith in Great Ming, and this trust was primarily in the Emperor.

The most dangerous moment of the Emperor Wanli Reforms was the tenth year of Emperor Wanli: initial results had emerged, but they were modest, and the conflict between incremental and existing distribution was most intense—that was precisely when the Emperor toured the Southern Court.

At the most perilous moment, His Majesty used forceful measures to secure his own safety and protect the achievements of the Emperor Wanli Reforms.

It is easy to plan when the state is strong, hard to devise when it is weak and chaotic.

When the state is prosperous, all decisions succeed; when it is declining, even the most brilliant strategies fail.

Great Ming has truly entered an upward cycle; thus, the length of this upward cycle depends on whether the Emperor is wise, so the extravagant households are willing to spend silver to buy reputation.

At this point, no one—not even the Emperor or the Chief Grand Secretary—can undermine the Emperor Wanli Reforms.

"Good. As long as there aren't endless complaints," Zhu Zhu Yijun said after hearing the report; knowing that the elites had nearly come to blows over the chance to be remembered in history, he finally felt at ease.

A policy that stirs up public resentment is not what the Emperor wishes to see.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng continued, hand resting: "Beyond seeking lasting fame, these powerful elites also seek spiritual ties. Heaven, Earth, Sovereign, Parent, Teacher—since they serve as teachers, transmitting the Dao, instructing, and resolving doubts, spiritual ties naturally arise; no matter who rises to prominence later, they will have some connection to them."

"Your Majesty, sometimes bribery has thresholds—and they are very high."

"Just knowing which temple to bow to is already difficult; if someone gives a hint, you can bow to the right temple. But bowing to the right temple is not enough—if the temple won't open its door, you cannot burn incense or worship."

"Spiritual ties can be used precisely here."

The teachers at the funded normal schools are part of the powerful elites' networks.

Sun Sun Kehong especially loved pouring silver into the Maritime Academy to secure his absolute advantage in maritime trade.

Not only did the Emperor understand the importance of education; the powerful elites understood it even better—the bureaucracy grew from the education system, and the Dinghai Education System was also about dividing spoils.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng spoke of another intention among these powerful elites: burning incense and worshipping—whether the deity was truly divine, whether it worked, required guidance from a master; whether one could enter the temple required a guide—and spiritual ties could be used precisely here.

Political resources are an extremely expensive resource; overt, brazen corruption will inevitably drag one down.

Yan Song's bribery was subtle, but Yan Yan Shifan's was chaotic, known to all—even extending to extorting the Prince of Yu's household; naturally, he could not be tolerated.

How to conduct bribery without any trace of vulgarity was a required course for the powerful elites;

How to quietly slip silver into one's own pocket and ensure it landed smoothly was a vast and profound art for all bureaucrats.

Bribery and corruption were never simply a matter of having silver to spend.

"I see," Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed. "The court has no money; if it did, they wouldn't even have the chance."

After a moment's thought, Zhang Zhang Juzheng chose to speak plainly: "Your Majesty, the court's grain and silver are finite; even the normal schools in each province are directly funded by the court, yet in the end, they remain local normal schools, not court schools."

"And behind them come higher academies, middle academies, primary schools—the court's silver, even if as vast as the Pacific, would still be insufficient."

Before his death, Wan Shihé submitted a memorial stating: colonizers inevitably become localized during colonization.

These colonizers, after staying long in those lands, absorbed different information and education; their thinking had grown increasingly distinct from that of Great Ming people—they looked the same, even spoke Han Chinese, but their interests could no longer fully align with Great Ming's.

Some envoys sent abroad were the same: due to distance or differing nations, they gradually became foreign barbarians, utterly disregarding Great Ming's interests, even joining local barbarians to exploit Great Ming for their own gain.

All levels of schools were likewise inevitably localized.

"Master's meaning is that Great Ming must pay special attention to whether the Nine Dragons University Academy follows the court's lead?" Zhu Zhu Yijun frowned.

Wan Shihé advocated only the Nanyang region—within the Strait of Ma Liujia—as Great Ming's core interest; beyond the Strait of Ma Liujia, where influence could not reach, it should be left to merchants.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng's implication was that the court must firmly control the Nine Dragons University Academy, so that top talent would concentrate in Great Ming's government.

It was as if the Nine Dragons University Academy were the eldest son; the other schools, if the court had surplus, would receive more; if not, they could be left to fend for themselves.

"Your Majesty is wise," Zhang Zhang Juzheng bowed. He hoped the Emperor would be realistic: those provincial schools would ultimately fall under local administration.

The court's energy was not infinite; its silver was not infinite.

"Master speaks wisely," Zhu Zhu Yijun accepted Zhang Zhang Juzheng's suggestion; Gao Qi had proposed the framework of the Dinghai Education System, but the framework needed refinement.

One must clearly distinguish urgency and importance, and also discern closeness and distance.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng no longer recognized Gao Qi as his student, yet he still actively offered advice and strategies for the Dinghai Education System Gao Qi had devised, supplementing problems Gao Qi had overlooked.

"Your Majesty, this year's Manila galleon has arrived, and the Western silver brought is only three million taels, but this time there are one hundred twenty thousand taels of gold," Zhang Zhang Juzheng mentioned his other purpose for visiting the palace: diplomacy.

Bai Yin inflow was visibly slowing; Felipe's dispatched galleon still could not supply sufficient silver—this was truly hard for Great Ming to accept.

Great Ming's official exchange rate was one tael of gold equal to sixteen taels of silver, though this rate fluctuated wildly under Wang Qian's manipulation.

This galleon's arrival, including gold, amounted to five million taels in silver equivalent, but the one hundred twenty thousand taels of gold were not counted as monetary liquidity—Great Ming's currency remained silver and copper cash.

"With silver inflow slowing, prices in major cities may stagnate. Fortunately, we halted the Single Whip Tax at the start of the year; otherwise, I would not be a hero of the Emperor Wanli Reforms, but a criminal," Zhang Zhang Juzheng said, still shaken.

The irregular flow of Western silver had nearly cost Zhang Zhang Juzheng his position.

Without sufficient silver supply, the Single Whip Tax could not be implemented.

Falling prices led to reduced production scale in workshops;

Without scale to spread costs, overall profits declined; workshop owners could only squeeze labor costs;

This further caused reduced output due to shrinking scale, vicious competition among workshops, lowered wages, widespread unwillingness to purchase nonessential goods, declining consumption, reduced demand, and ultimately deeper economic stagnation.

If the Great Ming court now used the Single Whip Tax to extract silver, it would be equivalent to draining silver, reducing commodity liquidity, and further worsening the silver shortage and deflation.

"Your Majesty, Great Ming is too vast—it needs far too much silver," Zhang Zhang Juzheng sighed.

The core issue was Great Ming's enormous scale: 130 million households, vast and complex territory—all made the transition from small-farmer economy to commodity economy as difficult as climbing to heaven.

Relying solely on silver as currency simply would not work.

But issuing treasure notes was not yet the right time.

Zhu Zhu Yijun helplessly said: "Before we complete gold accumulation, the silver shortage will likely persist for some time."

"Your Majesty, we could issue an additional one million taels in overseas circulating treasure notes, anchored to tobacco. Few in Great Ming recognize them, but many in Nanyang do," Zhang Zhang Juzheng proposed.

To make Great Ming great again, neither ruler nor minister had ever thanked free trade; now Zhang Zhang Juzheng's meaning was to make the Nanyang barbarians suffer a little more, to contribute to Great Ming's monetary liquidity.

Should we make the already suffering Great Ming people suffer more?

For Westerners, such a thing would raise no doubt—no need for debate. Great Ming's high moral disadvantage in the colonial era was real; the very idea of making barbarians suffer required thought, proposal, and weighing.

Such a mindset hinders colonial expansion.

"Then that's the only way," Zhu Zhu Yijun paused, then agreed: "The plantation slaves are already suffering. I've checked my pockets—there's little silver left; I can't afford to be charitable. I have no choice but to issue one million taels in treasure notes to supplement the currency."

Zhu Zhu Yijun was Emperor, but also a man—not an omnipotent god. He could not conjure silver. True silver abundance would only come with the Third Industrial Scientific Revolution, when silver became a byproduct of electrolytic aluminum, yielding nearly infinite supply.

This one million tael in overseas circulating treasure notes would primarily be used to exchange for copper from Lu Song.

"Your Majesty, this time the Falanxi envoy is a woman—she is the Grand Patriarch of the Great Light Church, Ma Minister Liang de Montmorency," Zhang Zhang Juzheng leaned forward slightly, concerned: "She founded the Free Knights Order, a 12,000-man religious army—its speed is too fast."

"Her father is Marshal of the Falanxi Army; her motives are not pure."

Had she come merely as Grand Patriarch of the Great Light Church, Zhang Zhang Juzheng would not have thought much; but now, Ma Minister Liang was also Falanxi's envoy.

What this meant was obvious.

The Falanxi royal family, due to succession issues, was in turmoil—like a piece of meat, everyone was watching. The Montmorency family's ambition to replace them was as clear as Tan Sima Zhao's intent.

Zhu Zhu Yijun immediately said: "Without sufficient benefit, I will not provide more support or aid merely to enfeoff another overseas vassal king. That is empty prestige—whether 'King of Kings' or 'Empire Where the Sun Never Sets'—it matters not."

"I have only one phrase: everything is settled by silver!"

"I agree. The West is too distant; Great Ming cannot directly interfere. Falanxi is entirely different from Portugal, and Ma Minister Liang is entirely different from Antonio. Without Your Majesty's support, can Antonio even retain his throne?" Zhang Zhang Juzheng warned of the risks.

In the thirty-fourth year of Emperor Jiajing, Falanxi launched an attack on Rio de Janeiro, capital of Spain's Brazilian Governorate, but failed; afterward, relying on the North Atlantic route, it pursued colonial activities in northeastern North America, but with little success.

Overall, Falanxi still lacked the qualifications to sit at the colonial table.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng frowned: "At present, Ma Minister Liang has little to offer. The only noteworthy item is the North Atlantic route charts and compass maps—but due to geography, their value to Great Ming is not high."

"As for Ma Minister Liang's propagation of the Great Light Church, I see no great necessity."

Zhang Zhang Juzheng was a scholar-official; he never understood what was so worth fussing about with religion? The West had bled over such matters.

Most Great Ming scholar-officials struggled to understand why religion had become the representative of Western order.

Portugal's King Antonio received Great Ming's aid because Great Ming urgently needed a foothold in the West, so it granted war loans paid in five-masted ocean-going ships.

The return on this investment was high: Portugal paid a forty-year term at 4% interest; Great Ming had long recovered its cost and now profited purely.

At that time, the cost of five-masted ocean-going ships was not high, but their price was extremely expensive—even then, Felipe II had to wait in line to buy them.

Great Ming's excessive interference in Western affairs was not worth the cost; interference required manpower, material, and financial expenditure.

"Your Majesty, the Shah's envoy has arrived—he brought with him the Mughal Prince Salim." The eunuch entered the imperial study to report the envoys' arrival.

"Admit them."

Salim was the eldest son of Akbar, the current Mughal ruler. Salim was no easy child—he made Akbar both love and hate him; unable to cope, Akbar sent Salim to Great Ming to study, hoping he would stay away for a while.

Salim did nothing but grew impatient waiting for succession; he stirred up minor rebellions, nearly succeeding.

Akbar was the de facto founding emperor of the Mughal Empire; without him, the Mughal Dynasty would not have ruled the Indian subcontinent for over two centuries. To nearly succeed in treason under such a formidable ruler required real ability.

Akbar had three sons; only Salim proved truly talented, displaying extraordinary wisdom from childhood.

Emperor Akbar, having ruled with brilliance throughout his life, had lost his former decisiveness and iron will on the issue of succession; he chose to forgive Salim and sent him to Great Ming for study.

"Your Majesty, I pay my respects. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years in golden peace," Shah Muhammad bowed respectfully—then came the thing that made his head throb!

Salim did not kneel; instead, he stared curiously at the Great Ming Emperor.

"Shah's envoy, rise."

"Bold indeed," Zhu Zhu Yijun said calmly, studying Salim: eighteen or nineteen, the rebellious age of "heaven above, earth below, I am third"—typical Turkic-Mongol attire, wearing a gold-and-black turban, a yellow riding jacket embroidered with various patterns.

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled: "So, you resent kneeling to me?"

"Young king, you have no glorious achievements—why should I kneel to you?" Salim raised his head slightly, proudly.

Shah Muhammad did not know how to translate; this troublemaking prince had committed a grave offense—he had no idea what kind of being he had angered.

One order from the Emperor, and 130,000 naval troops might station in the Indian Ocean, dragging his father to the capital to be charged with disrespect.

Zhu Zhu Yijun did not wait for translation; Salim's face brimmed with defiance, clearly written: "I refuse to submit!"

For such a child, Zhu Zhu Yijun had experience—Zhu Zhu Yiliu had shown this expression many times. For rebellious children, the best method was to beat them—once was not enough; if needed, beat them again.

"You look like a martial artist—come, let's take a tour of my martial chamber." Zhu Zhu Yijun rose and asked Zhang Zhang Juzheng, "Has Luo Battalion Commander arrived?"

"He has, Your Majesty…" Zhang Zhang Juzheng bowed low.

"Master, rest assured—I'm no longer a child. He's disrespectful and doesn't grasp gravity. I am the sovereign of this realm." Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled. "I won't fight him. I'll let Luo Luo Sigong fight him."

"Also summon Xiong Da."

"Your Majesty's wisdom is profound." Zhang Zhang Juzheng bowed again. The Emperor is the pillar of the state; to brawl recklessly with a foreign prince would be a diplomatic catastrophe of mountain-collapsing proportions if anything went wrong.

Xiong Xiong Tingbi wished to go to Korea to exterminate the Japanese pirates, and to return to Suifeng to quell bandits, but the Emperor refused to let him go, urging him to prepare thoroughly for the imperial examinations—first earn the Ming Jinshi degree, not rush for merit, and carefully reflect on his gains from Suifeng.

It would be better to bring him out one by one for sparring—don't let anyone say Luo Luo Sigong is bullying him with age.

About fifteen minutes later, Zhu Zhu Yijun donned his armor, warmed up, and began sparring with Luo Luo Sigong—clashing, clanging, striking hard. Luo Luo Sigong had a stubborn temper and showed no deference; his strikes were brutal and swift. Those unaware might have thought they were fighting a father's murderer.

The Emperor had ordered: fight with full strength, no holding back.

Zhu Zhu Yijun handled himself with ease. In twenty rounds, Luo Luo Sigong won only one, lost eighteen.

In the final round, Luo Luo Sigong was already exhausted. Zhu Zhu Yijun seized an opening, hooked his left foot with a swift, precise, powerful kick, sending Luo Luo Sigong crashing to the ground.

"You're still the same—your stance is unstable." Zhu Zhu Yijun extended his hand and pulled Luo Luo Sigong up.

Luo Luo Sigong had once been humiliated when he lost his stance and fell—just like now. Back then, the Emperor had reached out, pulled him up, and lifted him from the hell of public scorn.

Combat ultimately tests fundamentals. The stronger your foundation, the more naturally you fight. When skill reaches mastery, movements become instinctive.

Luo Luo Sigong's talent is inferior to the Emperor's, especially in lower-body strength; the older he grows, the more often he loses.

"Your servant is ashamed," Luo Luo Sigong said helplessly. "I'm no longer worthy to be your sparring partner."

"No matter. After all these years, you're the only one bold enough to fight me with full force." Zhu Zhu Yijun removed his helmet, smiling. "Take a braised goose home when you leave. The dodo is too rare—I won't eat it."

It was true. Even Zhu Zhu Yiliu felt the same—grown older, the Prince of Lu dared not strike with full force; eventually, he stopped even defending. Before the blade reached him, he'd already fallen, always playing the role of "His Majesty is invincible!"

"Thank Your Majesty for this great grace," Luo Luo Sigong bowed deeply.

After every sparring session, the Emperor rewarded them with food. What exactly they ate didn't matter—it was the sign of imperial favor.

"Give him a good beating," Zhu Zhu Yijun muttered to Salim, who stood nearby.

Salim was indeed a martial artist. He saw clearly: just now, Emperor and minister had fought with full strength, no restraint—each strike lethal.

Salim accepted Luo Luo Sigong's challenge—and was defeated.

Even after battling the Emperor through twenty rounds and expending most of his strength, Luo Luo Sigong still crushed Salim mercilessly. Salim had no chance to counter—he was beaten as easily as a child by an adult.

Strength in combat is instantly visible. Luo Luo Sigong possessed the prowess of a vanguard elite; Salim was no match.

"Now, this stubborn brat has finally been humbled," Zhu Zhu Yijun sat in the martial chamber's high-backed chair, chuckling to Zhang Zhang Juzheng.

Only ten rounds were fought. Salim won none, and made no effective attack. Luo Luo Sigong held back even further, toying with Salim for all ten rounds.

The Emperor ordered him to beat him—not kill him.

"Very ordinary. He couldn't even enter the Capital Garrison," Luo Luo Sigong said after stepping down, offering a fair assessment.

Salim had no chance to display his defiance—because next up was Xiong Xiong Tingbi!

Xiong Xiong Tingbi showed no mercy. They were the same age—why hold back?

Full power. Peak form!

In ten rounds, Salim, clad in armor, was slammed to the ground ten times—each fall a brutal crash. By the end, he couldn't even rise, lying on the ground, removing his helmet, gasping for breath.

At this moment, Salim lay on the ground, questioning his very existence.

Of the three Ming champions, the Emperor was strongest, then Xiong Xiong Tingbi, then Luo Luo Sigong. In Mughal lands, he had been invincible—but here, he couldn't survive a single round.

Xiong Xiong Tingbi stepped before the Emperor and bowed: "Very ordinary. Not fit for the Capital Garrison."

"Good. Take a braised goose when you leave," Zhu Zhu Yijun said with a smile.

"Thank Your Majesty," Xiong Xiong Tingbi also received his goose.

Shah Mahmud approached, visibly agitated, scolding Salim, helping him rise, removing his armor, then reapproaching the Emperor to pay proper respects.

"Your servant bows before Your Majesty. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand ten thousand years!" Salim performed an awkward five-kowtows-three-bows salute in halting Chinese.

"Do you know why your father sent you to the Ming?" Zhu Zhu Yijun did not let him rise. After Shah Mahmud translated, the Emperor continued: "Your father told me he doesn't know who he is. That is a profound sorrow."

"Your father, you, and your descendants—generation after generation—must ponder this question: Who am I?"

Zhu Zhu Yijun had Feng Bao bring forth the letter written in Akbar's own hand—full of errors in Mongolian, yet fluent in Persian.

"You are not yet king. You are young. You do not yet grasp the importance of 'Who am I?'" Zhu Zhu Yijun held up the letter. "If you refuse to study in the Ming, I will refund your tuition. You may return home."

"I am having you study in the Ming because of your father's earnest plea."

"Who am I?"—this matters deeply. It touches the very foundation of state identity.

Akbar called this study abroad program "seeking one's roots."

For a ruler, not knowing who one is or where one comes from is a profound sorrow and irony. Identity crisis makes rule precarious.

Akbar truly pleaded: please teach these students something—even if not science or engineering, just the Four Books and Five Classics would be a great gift.

The tuition for these students was exorbitant: ten thousand taels of silver per student, not counting the 3% discount on cotton trade.

"Do you wish to return?" Zhu Zhu Yijun asked Salim.

Salim pondered long before bowing again: "No. I will return only after I have mastered my studies."

Salim was truly a fool. Akbar would have executed him long ago. He failed in rebellion, yet still lives as crown prince—Akbar still holds great hope for him.

"I sincerely apologize for my rashness," Salim bowed again, speaking urgently with Shah Mahmud. "I have a treasure to offer Your Majesty as reparation."

Shah Mahmud apologized to the Emperor, then left the martial chamber.

Salim remained kneeling—apologizing with empty hands lacked sincerity.

Zhu Zhu Yijun and Zhang Zhang Juzheng discussed state affairs, chiefly the Korean War—many issues remained.

For example, Korea needs more officials, but the Ming can spare few scholar-officials. No one wants to serve remote regions; in Ming scholar-officials' eyes, Korea is less desirable than Suifeng or Liaodong. Yet Korea's own scholars cannot be appointed—they are all from the civil-military aristocracy. Korea can only establish schools.

Until Korea trains its own scholar-officials, it will remain under semi-military rule.

"Your Majesty, this is Prince Salim's offering," Shah Mahmud stepped forward, holding a box, his face twisted in visible pain—clearly, the contents were extraordinarily precious.

As Feng Bao took the box from Shah Mahmud, the latter hesitated to let go.

Feng Bao examined the box for a long time, then, stunned, turned it toward the Emperor: "A massive diamond—brilliant, radiant."

Before Zhu Zhu Yijun lay a diamond the size of an infant's fist. He had never seen one so large. He picked it up, inspecting it—pure, flawless, luminous.

"Send it to the Empress," Zhu Zhu Yijun said indifferently. When he had something fine, he always thought of Wang Yao.

Shah Mahmud winced: "This is the Koh-i-Noor—the Mountain of Light. Discovered over two centuries ago on Mount Kohl. It is exceedingly rare, Your Majesty. I am certain Prince Salim's sincerity is genuine."

Even Shah Mahmud felt it was too valuable—a true treasure.

"Rise," Zhu Zhu Yijun said calmly. "His sincerity is clear."

Salim trembled as he bowed again, earnestly saying: "Your Majesty is truly a philosopher-king. Facing such a treasure, you show no greed. Even my father feared this Mountain of Light."

"My father said: 'The philosopher-king is free even in chains—not ruled by fear or desire.'"

"Nonsense!" Zhu Zhu Yijun shook his head. "I simply prefer silver."