Chapter 816

Song Song Shanyong was merely a schoolmaster, and after more than a decade still remained one—yet the Labor Party gathered to discuss him with such solemnity.

History teaches all: never underestimate any salt smuggler, postal courier, or schoolmaster; these three seemingly ordinary professions often unleash astonishing power at historical turning points, reshaping eras.

These three professions share key traits: humble origins; salt smugglers operating on the edge of the law; postal couriers stationed at the fringes of the system; schoolmasters rooted in cultural fissures.

They all control critical social resources: salt smugglers monopolize salt, the economic lifeline; postal couriers control information channels; schoolmasters dominate the education system and command numerous disciples.

Most importantly, they all possess formidable organizational abilities: salt smuggling is a life-or-death trade; postal couriers coordinate cargo and transmit messages; schoolmasters, as teachers, are literate and rational, able to continuously summarize experience and lessons, correcting the limitations of peasant movements.

In moments of crisis, they can unify scattered forces into a tide of history.

Any group possessing such traits must be taken seriously—this is Great Ming's historical experience and lesson: for example, the schoolmasters Hai Rui of Nanping Academy, Shen Zhao Shiqing of Nanhu Academy, and Song Song Shanyong of Tianxiong Academy.

The Labor Party's leadership valued Song Song Shanyong not only for his abilities but especially for his network; Great Ming's renewal required implementation of the Dinghai Education System and the Official Selection Law, and Song Song Shanyong's connections would expand further amid turbulent change.

But it was not for the Labor Party to court him—the Emperor had already appointed him as Sacrificial Wine Master of the Imperial University; if he excels at nurturing talent, let him nurture talent.

In the sixteenth year of Emperor Wanli, firecrackers cracked to bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new; red lanterns hung high to usher in fortune and well-being.

As the new year arrived amid firecrackers, the capital's populace was astonished: the usually frugal Emperor unexpectedly allocated twenty thousand taels of silver to host a grand fireworks spectacle at the Northern Camp.

The entire fireworks display lasted a full hour and a half.

Crowds of spectators packed the scene so tightly that soldiers from the Capital Garrison were temporarily pressed into service as Southern Yamen runners to maintain order; rows of fully armored embroidered uniform cavalry stood imposingly, deterring all pickpockets and human traffickers—pickpockets caught were sent to Java to plant cinchona trees; human traffickers were publicly tried and beheaded as a warning.

Wealthy households from the Western City also contributed substantial silver to participate in this fireworks event, enabling the display to last an hour and a half—those who paid must have expected profit.

The Northern Camp fireworks event was not open to just anyone; the threshold was extremely high, for it was not merely a fireworks show but also featured numerous stalls to display one's goods.

Households competed fiercely for these stalls, yet even then, the Capital Prefecture and the Ministry of Rites jointly vetted every applicant's qualifications.

And this

year's fireworks event was held at the Northern Camp to celebrate the Great Ming Army's six victories in Korea and its decisive triumph at Tsushima Island.

Wang Wang Xiyuan, Vice Prefect of the Capital Prefecture, found the annual fireworks ban unenforceable and chose an alternative: centralized burning in small plazas across wards.

The fireworks ban existed primarily to prevent fires, as wooden structures were highly flammable; with northerly winds, a blaze could spread across entire districts, causing catastrophic losses. Centralized burning allowed the people to welcome the new year while preventing fires, earning the Emperor's vermilion approval.

On the third day of the first month of the sixteenth year of Emperor Wanli, Gao Qi packed his bags and departed for Japan, representing Great Ming to compel Japan to surrender all mining rights—a matter vital to the empire's maritime security for decades, even centuries to come, and one of utmost importance to all levels of the court.

His journey followed the imperial highway to Mizhou, then sailed from Jiaozhou Bay to the Nagasaki Governor's Office, before proceeding to Kyoto in Japan.

"The people of Great Ming have been deceived by you—they have no idea what is truly happening in Japan! If the people of Great Ming knew, they would never endorse your actions! Slave laborers, Nanyang women, Japanese women—Great Ming has committed unspeakable crimes!" Oda Ichijo finally met the Minister of Protocol.

Since the Battle of Incheon in Hanseong, Oda Ichijo had repeatedly petitioned the Ministry of Rites and the Bureau of Protocol, demanding Great Ming negotiate peace—each time met with a closed door.

This time, she finally met the principal figure and immediately, like a wronged woman, screamed accusations of Great Ming's atrocities in Japan.

Gao Qi remained calm, gesturing for Oda Ichijo to sit. He gazed out the window, hearing the train whistle—though he had heard it many times, he still found it miraculous.

Iron horses were truly wondrous: with nothing but coal and water, they could run endlessly, day and night without rest.

The emergence of the imperial highway allowed Great Ming to effectively control Suifeng and Liaodong; otherwise, how could the Ordos, Daining Guard, and Liaodong have been expanded—or lost?

The Princess Shengping No. 5 iron horse, pulling its train with clanging metallic sounds, departed the station; outside the window, a white expanse stretched endlessly. Suddenly, a golden streak split the eastern horizon—the rising sun illuminated the clouds, molten-gold light flowing like water over rolling snow-capped hills, turning the entire snowfield into a dazzling, shimmering amber.

Steam and morning light wove into a faint mist; snow along the rails glittered with golden ripples; as the iron horse whistled, the train rolled forward.

"I did not bid farewell to His Majesty, nor to my master—even though my master no longer recognizes me. Perhaps when I return, he will at least allow me to kneel and pay my New Year respects. Fourteen years have passed; my master has never let me pay my respects."

"Perhaps I won't return. Who knows?" Gao Qi finally snapped back to reality and gave a distracted reply to Oda Ichijo's question.

Oda Ichijo angrily said:

"The Ming court has lost the courage to confront its own accumulated crimes—the slave laborers who died on plantations, the Nanyang women and Japanese women who sold their bodies—does the Grand Minister of Protocol intend to turn a blind eye, or has it grown cowardly and begun to evade the issue?"

According to Great Ming's rites and morality, such things should never have occurred—these are acts only uncivilized barbarians of the West could commit!

"You're right," Gao Qi smiled. "Due to deliberate censorship, most of Great Ming's people know only of our victories; they know nothing of the rest. Even rumors are dismissed as unbelievable."

"The Emperor even blacked out the annual number of Japanese slaves sent south of the sea, taking all guilt upon himself."

When trouble arises, the Emperor acts—he never claims glory alone, but shoulders all blame.

In future historical judgments, the Emperor's blacked-out annotations and vermilion approvals make every crime share a single target for condemnation; these annotations prove every action originated from the Emperor's direct orders.

"Your Majesty? You ministers should have advised him," Oda Ichijo said, her face pained. "This shouldn't be the way. Great Ming has suffered greatly from Japanese raids, and Japan has suffered too—these wandering ronin and pirates stem from the chaos of the Warring States."

"Once the internal war ends, everything will improve."

Gao Qi shook his head again. "Do you think Great Ming's intervention in Korea could have been avoided? Even if Japan ends its civil war, will the pirate threat vanish? What of those warriors who only know how to kill? Will they lay down their swords and pick up hoes, obeying the Shogun's orders?"

"Don't dream."

"When Japan ends its civil war, it will invade Korea—whether under Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, or Tokugawa Ieyasu."

"How many years has Japan been shouting 'Invade Tang'? Do you think Great Ming knew nothing?"

Gao Qi told Oda Ichijo that Great Ming had long prepared for this war—it was merely a matter of time. As Japan transitioned from chaos to order, these Japanese warriors needed a place to die.

"Even without the Capital Garrison's elite troops, the Liaodong Army could push those 150,000 pirates into the sea—though losses would be heavy. Japan's defeat is inevitable," Gao Qi added further.

Oda Ichijo's heart turned to ash. She realized Great Ming had been preparing for fifteen years.

"Your Majesty is a good man—at least for the people of Great Ming," Gao Qi extended both hands. "Look: the left hand is Great Ming, the right hand is overseas—these are the two ends of a seesaw, and the five Maritime Trade Offices are the fulcrum."

"Great Ming is old—over two hundred years old, riddled with illness. To cure it requires immense cost: either borne by Great Ming's people, or by overseas barbarians—whether Japanese pirates or Nanyang barbarians."

"Contradiction teaches us: everything is like a coin's two sides—every action has a cost. This is why all dynastic reforms have failed."

"When the cost cannot be borne domestically, opposition to reform becomes consensus."

"When the cost can be borne—especially when others bear it—support for reform becomes consensus."

The blood cost of the Emperor Wanli Reforms must be borne by someone. Without opening the seas, only Great Ming's poor laborers would bear it—further destabilizing the empire's already precarious state.

"You take all the benefits and dump all the burdens overseas—is this Great Ming's millennia-old moral as the Celestial Kingdom?!" Oda Ichijo nearly screamed, her once-elegant face twisted in fury.

Gao Qi smiled broadly. "No, this is not Great Ming's morality. Didn't I say? The Emperor bears it all."

"Li Li Yashi said: Your Majesty's towering figure shoulders it all—especially the historical condemnation of these crimes. Your Majesty prevents moral judgment from falling upon your people and ministers."

"All this was created by the Emperor's love of grandeur—just as Jiangnan literati still sneer at the founding Emperor and the Emperor Chengzu Emperor, though these were collective choices of their time."

"Perhaps future generations will not thank Your Majesty—but I live now, and I know."

Gao Qi turned to the eunuch beside him—a palace eunuch named Huang Bin, the chief eunuch of this mission to Japan, one of the Emperor's training companions, stationed long-term at the Eastern Depot, specializing in investigating misconduct among civil and military officials—a senior eunuch.

Gao Qi was not afraid his words would reach the Emperor's ears, for many of them were the Emperor's own.

Future generations of Great Ming may not thank the Emperor—that may be his fate after his passing—and the Emperor knows this well.

Gao Qi stared intently at Oda Ichijo. "Do you really believe the court is hiding the empire's crimes from the people, rather than suppressing the people's boiling outrage? Do you know how many petitions requesting voluntary donations the Emperor received? I'll tell you: one hundred and eighty-four!"

"These powerful elites and wealthy merchants love nothing more than opposing the Emperor—doing nothing, saying nothing, yet secretly resisting and seeking private gain. Yet on the matter of destroying Japan, they voluntarily donated."

"A million households in the southeast, each draped in white mourning, bearing blood feuds—no cowards in their arrow formations and blade forests."

Oda Ichijo's face turned pale. She realized she had overlooked a critical question: in destroying Japan, was it the court or the people who were more fervent?

The answer was obvious: the people's fury was greater.

Oda Ichijo's hands trembled. She whispered:

"Then why send envoys to negotiate peace? If you still have strength, why not keep fighting?"

Gao Qi sighed. "Because the Emperor does not wish the Capital Garrison soldiers to face a moral crisis—they were carefully cultivated to protect Great Ming, not to slaughter."

"Because the Emperor does not wish Great Ming's overall morality to decline. After all, the advantage of high morality lies within Great Ming—generations of loyal ministers have upheld the Han dynasty's legacy; its disadvantage lies only in opening the seas."

"The Emperor believes moral corruption should be borne by one man alone."

Oda Ichijo finally understood the Emperor's true intent and fell silent. The long whistle of the steam engine and the clanging of the train drowned out the entire carriage.

Destroying Japan was not impossible—it could be done with total effort. But the Emperor loved the Capital Garrison soldiers, loved the people of Great Ming, loved the beauty of the empire.

"Your Majesty has good fortune—he has the Grand Secretary and General Qi," Oda Ichijo said mournfully. In contrast, Oda Nobunaga fought alone; his vassals all harbored treacherous intentions.

"Your Majesty has truly good fortune, with a Grand Secretary and General Qi," Oda Ichii said wistfully; in contrast, Oda Nobunaga fought alone, his vassals all harboring ulterior motives.

The Emperor Wanli Reforms reached this point not by luck, but through the Emperor's efforts. Before leaving the capital, he left behind a poem—if he did not return, it would be his final verse.

Iron horses bear clouds from the imperial capital; golden spears gleam as seas to the east are calmed; bones piled like mountains under a lone white moon; benevolent hearts flow like water, illuminating ten thousand lamps.

Dare the mountain of sin defy the brush of history? Benevolent banners raised again, banners for ten thousand generations; do not say mending heaven is easy—only lone loyalty can mend the broken golden vessel.

The Emperor Wanli Reforms reached this point not by luck, but through the relentless dedication of countless righteous souls: Zhang Zhang Juzheng stood behind officials seeking to mend the heavens' cracks; Qi Qi Jiguang stood behind one hundred thousand elite Capital Garrison troops and one hundred thirty thousand naval soldiers.

The Emperor Wanli Reforms have reached this point not by luck, but through the relentless dedication of countless virtuous souls: behind Zhang Zhang Juzheng stood upright officials eager to mend the empire's fractures; behind Qi Qi Jiguang stood ten thousand elite troops of the Capital Garrison and thirteen thousand naval soldiers.

Gao Qi traveled swiftly; twenty-two days later, he arrived at the Nagasaki Governor's Office. In January, a thin layer of ice still covered the harbor, but it did not impede navigation.

Water heats and cools slowly; proximity to water bodies reduces the impact of microglacial climates. Nagasaki and Busan remain ice-free ports; the thin ice does not hinder sailing.

Governor Xu Wei, Maritime Trade Commissioner Sun Sun Hongyi, Nagasaki Regional Military Commander Li Cheng, Chief Eunuch of the Maritime Trade Office Wang Chao, and Inspector Luo Ying met Gao Qi at the harbor.

The Nagasaki Governor's Office occupied 180 mu; beyond it lay 3,000 mu of official residences fulfilling the governor's functions. Beyond those 3,000 mu stretched a ring of over twenty li of connected houses—this was the Han Chinese zone, enclosed by brick-and-stone walls, moats, gentle slopes, and irregular bastions projecting from the walls to mount mortars.

Outside the walls, the area was originally designated for Japanese activity, but over the years, the Japanese population in Nagasaki had steadily declined; Han Chinese territory had gradually expanded to encompass the entire island of Kyushu.

Japanese slaves and Japanese women were among Japan's most important mineral resources.

"How is the situation in Japan?" Gao Qi asked Governor Xu Wei.

Xu Wei's face was grim. "The rapid fall of Tsushima has plunged Japan into panic. Food shortages and soaring prices have become Japan's top crisis—more and more people hoard grain, terrified the Ming army will advance further; hoarding has become everyone's choice."

"Even in Hiroshima, a coastal city, people are already starving. Robberies of grain shops have erupted multiple times—but even the grain shops have no food."

"Oda Nobunaga has issued a stand-fast order, determined to resist to the end."

Gao Qi exclaimed in surprise: "He intends to resist to the end?"

Sun Sun Kehong explained: "This is the consensus among Japanese daimyo. Kublai Khan's two invasions of Japan both ended in disaster. If the main battlefield is on Japanese soil, they believe Japan can win."

"Great Ming relies entirely on long-distance supply lines; the vast distances and long seas make it easy for Japan to ambush and disrupt our logistics, crippling our army."

"Meanwhile, Japan's mountain fortresses are their core confidence. These mountain fortresses differ entirely from Korea's temporary ones—some have stood for centuries, with winding paths and tighter defenses. Great Ming's siege artillery, limited by transport and logistics, cannot unleash its full power on Japanese soil."

"Moreover, the Japanese daimyo believe the Ming army will not advance swiftly. Great Ming is in a period of rapid change, burdened by internal problems requiring Qi Qi Jiguang's return. He has been away two years already; if he does not return soon, the Emperor's authority will be challenged."

These were the three reasons the Japanese daimyo planned to hold firm: vast distances and long seas, home-ground advantage, and the Capital Garrison's inability to sustain prolonged warfare.

"Wait—how can these Japanese be so self-centered? They love rebellion from below, so they assume Your Majesty depends entirely on Qi Qi Jiguang's personal prestige?" Gao Qi exclaimed, shaking his head repeatedly.

These were the three reasons the Japanese lords prepared to hold their ground: the lofty skies and long waters, the advantage of fighting on home ground, and the fact that the Capital Troops could not sustain prolonged combat.

"Hmm, these Japanese people—why do they always project their own ways onto others? They themselves revel in rebellion from below, so they assume His Majesty relies entirely on Qi Qi Jiguang's personal prestige?" Gao Qi was stunned, shaking his head repeatedly.

To the Japanese, Qi Qi Jiguang had been away too long—three years was the limit; if he stayed away longer, the rebels within Great Ming might once again develop other ambitions.

This clearly applied the Japanese model of shogun and emperor relations to Great Ming.

"No, many Japanese daimyo believe Zhang Zhang Juzheng and Qi Qi Jiguang have jointly sidelined His Majesty, and all current decisions are made by Zhang Zhang Juzheng and Qi Qi Jiguang wielding the emperor as a puppet," Xu Wei said with a peculiar expression.

This belief was not confined to Japan—many within Great Ming also held it; Xu Wei and Sun Sun Keyi had both been asked about it.

"Utter nonsense," Gao Qi said, his face a mixture of emotions, clearly at a loss for words. Compared to His Majesty, Qi Qi Jiguang and Zhang Zhang Juzheng were extreme conservatives!

His Majesty is the leader of the young and vigorous faction!

How many young and vigorous officials resent the court's elder statesmen for being too old, fearful of wolves ahead and tigers behind, hesitant and indecisive in action?

Volume Three of the Struggle Treatise was written by His Majesty himself, and Zhang Zhang Juzheng has always obstructed it.

Gao Qi never believed Qi Qi Jiguang's departure from the capital undermined the emperor's authority; on the contrary, the hundred officials of the capital all looked forward to Qi Qi Jiguang's early return.

With Qi Qi Jiguang present, at least he could counsel His Majesty not to impulsively want to overturn the table! The table stands there perfectly fine; everyone eats at it. If there's an issue, we can discuss it calmly—what's the point of overturning the table at the first disagreement?

"But one thing is true: we have no shortage of rebels within our borders," added Wang Yushi Luo Ying.

Gao Qi also nodded in agreement: "That's true."

This is a consensus: His Majesty's actions have never been easy or simple; widespread hypocrisy and resistance are common, and sometimes they provoke His Majesty's anger.

"Aside from grain prices, the most terrifying is the spread of the Bliss Sect," Xu Wei said, his face still haunted by fear. He shook his head repeatedly: "A bunch of madmen."

"Let me explain," said Wang Yushi Luo Ying, describing the terrifying speed at which the Bliss Sect had spread in Japan.

The Bliss Sect, a heretical cult, always thrives amid social unrest. Due to war, Japan's government institutions lacked the capacity to prune its growth; the entire process was chaotic and disorderly, with violent incidents erupting rapidly across the country.

The East Asian trade system dominated by Great Ming had taken shape, and for various reasons, Japan became an peripheral economy, resulting in an dependent economic model: its port towns became entirely centers for raw material exports and extremely basic processing.

This single economic structure inevitably led to distorted population concentration.

Japan's geographical constraints and lack of depth intensified this distorted population concentration, causing a complete imbalance between urban and rural populations.

As the Japanese gradually realized that the expected returns of fulfilling traditional obligations—such as marriage and childbearing, honoring ancestors, or achieving success—were far lower than the cost of immediate pleasure, immediate pleasure became the sole spiritual compensation in this wretched world.

Even the most basic biological instinct for reproduction was being dissolved by rational calculation, creating ideal conditions for the Bliss Sect's frenzied spread.

"Abandoning spouse for pleasure quarters—not because one refuses marriage, but because dowries are impossibly high; forsaking fame and office for gambling—not because one despises nobility, but because the imperial examination path is blocked; their desires are not truly lost, but rather, in desperate straits, they feign freedom."

"Indeed: 'A man without marriage or office loses half his desire; a man without food or clothing loses the bond between ruler and subject,'" Luo Ying remarked with amazement.

Japan destroying Japan is happening—and growing worse.

Luo Ying listed many scenarios.

The courtesans of the pleasure quarters, accidentally pregnant, would drown their infants in basins, rest a few days, then resume serving clients; any silver earned was squandered in the gilded, intoxicating world of brothels—market design was always so clever, perfectly extracting every last coin;

The dock laborers, after a day's toil, would spend their earnings in the pleasure quarters, drunk until oblivion, living day to day with no thought for tomorrow;

The young and vigorous sailed overseas for profit, while the elderly in the countryside tilled the fields; the old men's nightly hopes brought only bad news—few ever returned, or simply died abroad;

Children, who should have been protected, were forced to work at age five or six—either crawling through factory chimneys, or having their legs broken to beg on the streets, or lurking in taverns stealing and pilfering; if caught, they were beaten, and if beaten severely, they died unnoticed in lonely corners.

Children who should have been protected were forced to work from age five or six—either crawling through factory chimneys, or having their legs broken and sent to beg on the streets, or lurking in taverns stealing and pilfering; caught, they were beaten, and if the beating was severe, they often died in lonely, forgotten corners.

Japan's order was collapsing rapidly.

"Under such internal turmoil and external threat, Oda Nobunaga still issued his order of consolidation," Gao Qi said, frowning. "I understand now—he intends to use Great Ming's overwhelming external force to forcibly unify Japan, rather than leaving it as the scattered, fragmented state it once was, completing the construction of a nation-state."

"Brothers quarrel within the walls, yet when external enemies come, they stand shoulder to shoulder; states contend internally, yet when foreign threats arrive, they unite in resistance; external pressure sharpens, internal unity becomes a jewel—this is shared hatred against a common foe."

Shared hatred against a common foe is also a method of state-building—and a highly effective one.

In the process of state-building, using hatred or enmity to establish a common enemy strengthens internal cohesion and forges consensus; this approach effectively redirects internal contradictions into external ones, easing the crisis of ruling legitimacy.

This high-risk strategy, in essence, masks structural problems by manufacturing opposition—it treats symptoms, not root causes.

Only by turning the blade inward, confronting internal contradictions directly, and resolving these endogenous problems, can lasting peace and stability be achieved.

Gao Qi understood Oda Nobunaga's strategy: facing Great Ming's aggressive posture, Oda Nobunaga chose a narrative of hatred. The risk was great, but the potential reward was greater.

"Therefore, he will absolutely refuse to surrender—and will even adopt an even more confrontational stance toward Great Ming's envoys," Gao Qi said to Xu Wei. "It seems my journey is truly perilous."

"Why not this: let the Grand Grand Honglu remain at the Nagasaki Viceroyalty, report the situation to the court, and avoid the mission altogether? Oda Nobunaga is sharpening his knives; if the Grand Grand Honglu goes, he may lose his life," Xu Wei said firmly. "Grand Grand Honglu, I will submit a memorial detailing the situation."

"I came on the Emperor's command—I will not abandon my mission halfway," Gao Qi said calmly. "They had better kill me. The fate of killing a Han envoy—Japan may not have known before, but they will soon learn."

"I offer my blood to the Xuanyuan, daring to lay bare my heart and liver to the annals of history."

This was His Majesty's solemn promise to the people of Great Ming; His Majesty said it, and His Majesty lived it—and this was also Gao Qi's personal creed.

With His Majesty's nature, if he truly died in Japan, he would sink the entire country to join him in death; as for his posthumous affairs, he need not worry—future historians would dedicate a full page to his merits and faults, granting him eternal fame.

"I will accompany the Grand Grand Honglu with fifteen hundred troops from the Osaka Bay Garrison," said Li Li Chengliang, Commander of the Nagasaki Regional Military Commission, immediately. "I didn't save Oda Nobunaga's life once—he would have burned to death in the Honnō-ji Incident. Let's see how he dares to act."

Oda Nobunaga owed Li Li Chengliang his life from the Honnō-ji Incident; if Oda Nobunaga truly laid ambushes with swordsmen, Li Li Chengliang would carve a bloody path to escort Gao Qi back to Great Ming.

To kill one's own savior—Oda Nobunaga, as shogun, would no longer be fit to rule; all his vassals would grow suspicious, and some might strike first to secure their own safety.

At the Honnō-ji Incident, Oda Nobunaga owed Li Cheng a life; if Oda Nobunaga had truly laid an ambush with swordsmen and axemen, Li Cheng would have carved a path through blood to return Gao Zhu Qiyu to Great Ming.

To kill one's own savior—Oda Nobunaga, this shogun, need no longer hold office; all his retainers would harbor suspicion, even strike first to secure their safety.