Chapter 863

The Ministry of Rites expended immense effort, scouring ancient texts over three months to draft a complete set of lowering-the-step suburban reception rites, only to be abruptly dismantled by the Emperor's unexpected intervention.

According to the original plan, the Great Ming army disembarked; Qi Qi Jiguang led the officers to the Suburban Reception Platform, where eighteen victory banners stood, and all troops first performed the banner-worship ritual.

The banner-worship ritual required the Minister of Rites to summon the Emperor; the Emperor would walk slowly forth as conch shells sounded in unison and the nao music played—military music, played upon a general's triumphant return, made of bronze, shaped like a bell, held upright and struck with a nao mallet.

Shen Li specially commissioned Zhu Zhu Zaiyu, Dean of the Academy of Natural Philosophy, to compose eighteen pieces of Ming nao music—all victory hymns. Zhu Zhu Zaiyu carefully selected eighteen from his own compositions, and the Ministry of Rites staff wrote lyrics for each, including "Jade Plate."

As the Emperor passed, all officers stood at attention; after he passed, they followed step by step until he reached the victory banners, when the Master of Ceremonies cried "Kneel!" The Emperor recited the green text prayer, ministers performed the five prostrations and three kowtows; after the Emperor finished his prayer to Heaven, the Master of Ceremonies proclaimed: "The sovereign and ministers bow to Heaven, victorious and returned."

Only then was the banner-worship ritual complete.

The Emperor returned to the Suburban Reception Platform, where Qi Qi Jiguang and other officers led the heroes of the eastern expedition to the octagonal pavilion; one by one, the officers presented their victory reports. When the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial finished reading each congratulatory memorial, the Emperor reclaimed the tiger tallies, fire tokens, and seals of the Regional Commander of the Expedition Against the Japanese pirates and the Expeditionary Generals, along with the imperial sword of authority granted to him; then Feng Bao read the Emperor's edict, rewarding the meritorious officers.

To the Emperor, this octagonal pavilion was the Suburban Reception Platform; to the returning soldiers, it was the Report-to-the-Monarch Platform—signifying gratitude for the monarch's patronage; this entire ceremony was also called the Audience-with-the-Monarch Ritual.

After the Audience-with-the-Monarch Ritual came the "Offering of Ears to the King," a Zhou ritual involving the cutting of enemy left ears to count battlefield kills; but since the Shang and Zhou dynasties, this custom had grown barbaric. The Ministry of Rites, adapting to new conditions and needs, transformed it into the offering of prisoners and various spoils of war, not ears.

After the offering of ears came the grand banquet and imperial feast. The Emperor appeared, delivered a brief address, and the meal began immediately, for the Ministry of Rites estimated it was already lunchtime; soldiers could endure hunger, but His Majesty could not.

After the meal, the afternoon featured the proclamation of victory banners—a traditional rite—where the nine great victories of the eastern expedition were written on banners ten feet wide, paraded through the army, then carried by couriers along the Nine Dragon Relay Road to spread the news far and wide; "proclamation" meant "exposed to sight and hearing, disseminated across the four seas."

After the proclamation, came the soldiers' favorite moment: pay distribution. The Emperor's reward was an honor to meritorious subjects, meant to uplift morale; then the Emperor, the Grand General, the Chief Minister, and all others boarded trains and returned to the Great Ming capital, where they again sacrificed to their ancestral spirits in the Imperial Ancestral Temple, announcing the army's triumphant return; afterward, the Great Ming Emperor led his ministers to the Palace of the Honored King to perform the Drinking-in-Feast Ritual.

The Drinking-in-Feast Ritual was the imperial banquet where the Son of Heaven drank nine cups.

Only then was the entire Suburban Reception Ritual completed.

But the Emperor's sudden whim had altered everything: the sovereign welcoming the loyal dead and rewarding soldiers on the parade ground became the opening act.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng, as Chief Minister, did not oppose it—even welcomed it. After all, the lowering-the-step suburban reception rites dated back to the Han dynasty; no one knew what they truly looked like anymore. Let His Majesty do as he pleased.

In truth, Zhang Zhang Juzheng felt the Emperor's impromptu arrangement was more reasonable, aligning with his ongoing project of the Narrative of Grace.

The Narrative of Grace was Zhang Zhang Juzheng's new method to stabilize imperial authority, born from his observation that imperial power had steadily eroded during the Emperor Wanli Reforms.

The sovereign welcoming the loyal dead and rewarding soldiers on the parade ground was part of this grace: the immediate cash rewards were obvious—everyone who received money was pleased—but more importantly, the Emperor did not avoid contact with the ashes out of superstition; this too was an act of grace.

Seeing Zhang Zhang Juzheng's indifference, Shen Li gave up correcting him. The Emperor didn't care, the Chief Minister didn't intervene—what could Shen Li do?

In fact, after drafting the Suburban Reception Ritual, the Emperor had repeatedly asked the Ministry of Rites: Where are the soldiers? In the Emperor's view, the war had been won by the Great Ming soldiers; where were they in this complex, cumbersome process?

Even though Shen Li added some soldier-involving elements—such as requiring the heroes of the eastern expedition to accompany the officers in audience—the entire ceremony still had little to do with the soldiers.

Now, the soldiers were the stars: the Emperor had no intention of going to the Suburban Reception Platform, no intention of performing the banner-worship or Audience-with-the-Monarch Rituals; instead, he walked directly among the soldiers, asking those collecting rewards about battlefield scenes. The most important event of the morning became the Emperor conversing with the soldiers.

This scene was familiar to Great Ming courtiers.

Every year during the New Year, the Emperor visited the imperial workshops to question artisans about their most pressing concerns—housing, water, fuel, education, and so on. Some Ministry of Works officials thought the workshops' guilds were superfluous; didn't the Emperor's annual visits to meet artisans serve as a bottom-up corrective mechanism?

The Emperor selected whom to meet the night before, from a list; even he didn't know whom he'd meet the next day.

Previously it was artisans; now it was returning soldiers. As for security, was there any place safer for His Majesty than the Great Ming army's formation?

Many elite troops of the Beijing garrison had watched the Emperor grow from a chubby child into a handsome youth, and now into a vigorous, mature sovereign.

The Great Ming's struggle to rise had been arduous; both the Emperor and the soldiers understood this perfectly. Defeat was acceptable, loss was acceptable—but above all, victory must be achieved, and achieved completely.

Gao Qi followed the Emperor step by step, overwhelmed by honor as the focal figure of this Suburban Reception Ritual, for the Emperor had kept him close throughout—clearly signaling approval of the Nine Articles of the Kyoto Treaty.

Gao Qi regretted it: he should have upgraded the Kyoto Treaty from nine to twenty-one articles! He felt nine was too few; if nine articles brought such glory, what glory would twenty-one bring upon his return to Great Ming?

Had Gao Qi truly forced out twenty-one articles, Zhu Zhu Yijun would have granted him a noble title. Nine articles were already extremely generous; the Beijing garrison had fought for four years and was beginning to wane. If the Japanese pirates were pushed too hard, the Great Ming army might fall into strategic disadvantage.

After recuperation, Li Li Rusong and Chen Lin would lead the Great Ming army again; after Li Li Rusong came Xiong Xiong Tingbi. Great Ming's strategy toward Japan had never changed: exterminate the Japanese pirates, utterly, leaving no future threat.

To Great Ming, this was not cruel—it was standard practice. In particular, Minister of War Ceng Ceng Shengwu, who had crushed the Jiusi rebellion and annihilated the Dujiang barbarians, possessed extensive experience in total annihilation and had devised meticulous plans.

Phase One: over thirty years, reduce the Japanese pirates population below one million.

Phase Two: over fifty years, completely disperse these million Japanese pirates.

Phase Three: over a long span, erase all traces of Japan from history, culture, and writing.

The result: Japan would become, like Yelang, a historical synonym for overreaching folly.

This was the path Ceng Ceng Shengwu had laid out for Japan.

Ceng Ceng Shengwu especially disliked the Nine Classics' "Gentleness Toward Distant Peoples." To him, this was a distortion of cultural transmission: in the Shang and Zhou eras, when ancestral rites required human sacrifice from the Bi Qiang, "gentleness toward distant peoples" likely meant compassion for one's own hardy pioneers who toiled through hardship to open new lands.

Gentleness toward those who journeyed far, not toward distant foreigners.

When Shang kings sacrificed ancestors, they asked whether to slaughter oxen or sheep, how many, and by what method; but the Bi Qiang were simply slaughtered outright—dozens of methods prepared, served without question—proving, in the Shang king's eyes, the Bi Qiang were less than cattle and sheep.

The Shang and Zhou dynasties were clearly connected: "Though Zhou is ancient, its mandate is renewed." Zhou existed long before, but after defeating the Shang king, it inherited much of Shang's institutions. Thus, Ceng Ceng Shengwu believed "gentleness toward distant peoples" in Shang-Zhou times meant gentleness toward pioneering ancestors, not barbarians.

Barbarians needed no gentleness: beat them once, and they'll reconcile with you; if they refuse to reconcile, kill them.

Ceng Ceng Shengwu held this view because Great Ming's overseas expansion deeply appreciated those commoners who braved the seas to settle in the Southern Seas and the Elder Jinchi Governorate; without their contributions—bringing endless raw materials—the Emperor Wanli opening of the seas would not have succeeded so well.

Ceng Ceng Shengwu discussed his views with Shen Li, who agreed Ceng's interpretation was correct.

Cultural transmission inevitably distorts meaning—and must be corrected.

"The Great Ming army is mighty!" Emperor Zhu Zhu Yijun, after distributing rewards, looked at the disciplined Great Ming troops and calmly shouted to all.

"The might of Great Ming!" Emperor Zhu Zhu Yijun, after distributing the rewards, gazed at the disciplined Great Ming troops and called out calmly to all.

"His Majesty is mighty!"

"His Majesty is mighty!"

The soldiers roared in unison; having just returned home and received gold and silver in hand, they were delighted. If His Majesty wished to speak at length, let him speak—even a whole day's speech they'd gladly hear.

"Serve the feast!" Zhu Zhu Yijun glanced at the sun—it was mealtime. He had no patience for lengthy speeches; the Ministry of Rites' flowery congratulatory memorials made him want to sleep, let alone the soldiers. He chose to directly reward the three armies: serve the feast!

The Emperor never intended to go to the Suburban Reception Platform. After eating, he boarded the train with the officers and returned directly to the capital.

On the morning of the eleventh, the Emperor led the generals to the Imperial Ancestral Temple to sacrifice to their ancestors.

"Ancestors, hear me: the army has returned victorious; I have avenged half the Japanese pirates threat; the other half, I shall slowly pursue." Zhu Zhu Yijun tossed his written memorial into the firebowl, offering it to the ancestors; a spring breeze stirred, the yellow silk curtains fluttered wildly, flames flickered uncertainly.

The Great Ming ancestors were surely satisfied; if not, Zhu Zhu Yijun would interpret their silence as approval—he had done this many times before. Often, Zhu Zhu Yijun said: if they say nothing, it means they tacitly agree.

Each time Zhu Zhu Yijun recited a victory report, he summoned one of the meritorious officers named on it to step forward, kneel before the prayer mat, and personally cast the report into the firebowl.

The nine eastern victories were nine great triumphs; the Great Ming army fought nearly a thousand engagements in this campaign. Zhu Zhu Yijun selected over a hundred key battles to honor at the Ancestral Temple. The ceremony took long, but Zhu Zhu Yijun was patient, reciting each in detail.

Only by noon did Zhu Zhu Yijun complete the ancestral sacrifice; finally, he proceeded to the Palace of the Honored King to perform the Drinking-in-Feast Ritual, toasting the returning generals.

After setting down his wine cup, Zhu Zhu Yijun looked at the generals and said: "In the ninth month of the third year of Shaoxing, Grandmaster Yue Fei pacified the bandits Li Cheng, Zhang Yong, Cao Cheng, and the rebellions in Jizhou and Qianzhou, then came to Hangzhou's temporary court to pay homage."

"Emperor Gaozong of Song, Zhao Gou, bestowed armor and banners upon Grandmaster Yue Fei; on the banners were written 'Loyal and Devoted, Grandmaster Yue Fei,' as his personal standard. At the time, Zhao Gou rebuked Grandmaster Yue Fei for drunkenly assaulting Zhao Bingyuan and ordered him to abstain from alcohol; Grandmaster Yue Fei never drank again."

"At that time, Zhao Gou promised Grandmaster Yue Fei: once the old mountains and rivers were restored, we shall drink together, not returning until drunk."

"But Zhao Gou never kept his promise. When Grandmaster Yue Fei was truly about to restore the old lands, Zhao Gou grew afraid."

"I promised General Qi: 'With golden spears and iron horses, I shall swallow ten thousand miles like a tiger.' I also promised General Qi: after granting him the title of Duke of Duke Fengguo, he would still lead troops into battle—and I kept my word. General Qi promised me: he would restore for me a Beijing garrison whose splendor dazzled Heaven, whose swords steadied the seas—and he kept his word."

Qi Qi Jiguang immediately bowed low and said: "It is my great honor."

"General Li, your father murdered a man in the street; I had no choice but to punish him, exiling the Marquis of Marquis Ningyuan to the Western Regions." Zhu Zhu Yijun had already restored Li Li Chengliang's marquis title, reducing it by only one rank for a few months—but he still explained the matter clearly to Li Li Rusong face to face.

Li Li Rusong replied, puzzled: "Wasn't that sending Father to earn merit? He can't sit idle. As a retired marquis in the capital, he'd fall ill from boredom."

True, southern Jiangnan's soft charms were better; but the capital was no better than Liaodong. Winter and spring brought sandstorms from the north, blotting out the sky—hardly livable.

Li Li Rusong fully understood the Emperor's decision. His father had nearly become a warlord in Liaodong; he couldn't stay in the capital, but a sharp blade left too long grows dull. Sent to the Western Regions, he would earn merit—not be exiled.

Li Li Rusong regretted only that he had hoped to use his father, Li Li Chengliang, as a source of battlefield merit—and failed.

Li Li Chengliang was old; he could no longer match Li Li Rusong in combat. As long as Li Li Chengliang remained in Liaodong, Liaodong would inevitably become a semi-independent fiefdom—then it would be Li Li Rusong's stage.

"The Master said: when there is a rift, make it clear, so slander cannot enter. General Li understands the depth of my arrangement; I am pleased." Zhu Zhu Yijun nodded.

When rifts or suspicions arise, sovereign and minister must speak plainly—so slander cannot exploit them. Otherwise, trust erodes, loyalty breaks, and enmity follows.

"Your subject thanks Your Majesty's great grace." Li Li Rusong bowed again. He now only hoped his father would prove himself, rise to greatness, conquer the entire Western Regions—so their family could be elevated to a ducal house. A ducal house endures with the state; ordinary political storms cannot breach its gates.

Zhu Zhu Yijun spoke at length with the generals about frontline conditions. The Great Ming army seemed unstoppable, but battlefield realities were far less smooth than the reports suggested. The Japanese pirates in Korea resisted fiercely.

Each mountain fortress required two to three assaults; the worst was at Weishan, where the army entered and exited nine times, slaughtering every Japanese pirates before the battle ended.

At the time, the Great Ming army had already launched a surprise capture of Fushan; the Japanese pirates in Weishan were trapped beasts. They refused to surrender, and only after relentless bombardment and repeated assaults by iron-armored shock troops were they annihilated—only then was the battle over.

Qi Qi Jiguang believed the Japanese pirates remained a formidable force in combat will, military equipment, and organizational coordination—not a weak, easily crushed rabble. Otherwise, they could not have advanced from Fushan to Pyongyang in a single month.

Qi Qi Jiguang's face was grave: "Your Majesty, if the Japanese pirates ever land, launch raids from Incheon against our Shandong and Liaodong, and attack our Liaodong overland, they could become a great disaster in the northeast."

Qi Qi Jiguang was never arrogant; he always planned for defeat before victory, preparing for the worst.

If the Japanese pirates landed, using Incheon as a port to raid Liaodong, Tianjin, Shandong, departing at dawn and returning at dusk, they could plunge the entire northern coastline into chaos. If Great Ming became exhausted defending these areas, Liaodong's defenses would inevitably weaken. If the Japanese pirates allied with the Jianzhou Jurchens and other tribes, it would be a catastrophic disaster.

Qi Qi Jiguang sincerely said: "I have always been cautious, fearing any mistake that might grant the Japanese pirates an advantage. Your Majesty, I believe the Liaodong army deserves the foremost merit."

"After the Japanese pirates invaded, the Liaodong army swiftly assembled at Jiuliancheng under the Marquis of Marquis Ningyuan's orders. Even if the Beijing garrison's mobilization faltered, the Liaodong army could enter Korea at any moment."

"Your Majesty, observe Korea's terrain: if Uiju falls to the Japanese pirates, it will be nearly impossible to intervene again."

Warfare requires timing, terrain, and unity. The Liaodong army's rapid response laid the solid foundation for this campaign's victory. With Uiju, Great Ming had a bridgehead, could deploy its formation; no matter how elite the army, without deployment, it has no combat power.

Zu Su Chengxun, eating his meal, froze. The Liaodong army's role in this campaign was primarily auxiliary to the Beijing garrison; discipline was decent, no major combat tasks—mainly maintaining rear stability. Zu Su Chengxun had merely come for the meal; after eating, he would return to Korea to continue garrison duty.

Yet Qi Qi Jiguang had specifically petitioned for merit on behalf of Zu Su Chengxun and the Liaodong army.

Zhu Zhu Yijun fully understood Qi Qi Jiguang's reasoning. In the second year of Emperor Longqing, when Qi Qi Jiguang was transferred from Fujian to Jizhou, his main challenge was the tension between southern and northern troops, between the Beijing garrison and frontier armies. These tensions erupted directly when Qi Qi Jiguang returned to the capital for rewards.

The Liaodong army initially resented it: why was the Beijing garrison the main force? Was the Liaodong army inferior? When the Korean war broke out, the Emperor mobilized the Beijing garrison and ignored the Liaodong army—this planted the seeds of the southern-northern and garrison-frontier conflicts.

Only after the Battle of Pyongyang did Zu Su Chengxun witness the line infantry's volley tactics and finally acknowledge the Beijing garrison's formidable combat power, accepting his auxiliary role—thus avoiding the disastrous infighting seen in the Northern Song's five-pronged attack on the Western Zi Xia. One force must be the main; otherwise, internal strife arises.

Now the war is over, rewards are distributed. The Beijing garrison received noticeably more—this was natural. But the Liaodong army fought throughout, never once seeking personal glory to disrupt battlefield conditions.

At first, the Liaodong Army resented this—why were the Beijing Garrison troops the main force? Were the Liaodong troops inferior? When war broke out in Korea, His Majesty mobilized the Beijing Garrison for campaign, ignoring the Liaodong Army—this sowed the seeds of conflict between southern troops and northern troops, between the Beijing Garrison and the frontier forces.

If another joint campaign arises, and the Liaodong army resents being auxiliary, desires to be main force, and rushes forward for glory, the battlefield's balance could instantly collapse.

"General Qi speaks wisely. Had the Liaodong army not swiftly assembled at Jiuliancheng, crossed the Yalu River, and advanced into Uiju as vanguard, the entire campaign would not have proceeded so smoothly. Thus, the Liaodong army deserves the vanguard merit: each soldier receives an additional five taels of silver as special reward for their decisive contribution." Zhu Zhu Yijun accepted Qi Qi Jiguang's suggestion, granting an extra ten thousand taels of silver—enough to mend the rift between southern and northern troops, between garrison and frontier armies.

Zhu Zhu Yijun observed the expressions of the Beijing garrison officers. When Qi Qi Jiguang spoke, none showed discontent—clearly, this petition for merit had been discussed with the Beijing garrison officers beforehand, not made unilaterally.

If there is another coordinated battle and the Liaodong troops resent being auxiliary, refuse to support, and seek to become the main force, greedily pressing forward, the battlefield's balance could shift instantly.

"Marshal Qi's words are sound; had the Liaodong troops not responded swiftly

and assembled at Jiuliancheng, crossed the Yalujiang, and advanced into Yizhou as vanguard, the entire campaign might not have proceeded so smoothly. Thus, the Liaodong troops deserve the vanguard merit; each man shall receive an additional five taels of silver as special reward for this decisive contribution." Zhu Zhu Yijun acceded to Qi Qi Jiguang's suggestion, granting an extra sum of silver—only one hundred thousand taels total—yet enough to reconcile the tensions between southern troops, northern troops, the capital garrison, and frontier forces.

Zhu Zhu Yijun observed the expressions of the capital garrison commanders; when Qi Qi Jiguang spoke, none showed any dissatisfaction, clearly indicating that Qi Qi Jiguang had consulted with the capital garrison commanders before making this request, rather than acting on his own initiative.

Qi Qi Jiguang has led troops in battle for so many years; his actions are always measured and balanced—he wouldn't say this without reason.

After the Yinzhi Ceremony ended, Zhu Zhu Yijun specifically kept Qi Qi Jiguang behind to ask for details, and only then learned why Qi Qi Jiguang had separately petitioned for merit recognition for the Liaodong Army.

The Liaodong Army did plenty of work, but all the hard battles were fought by the Capital Garrison; the Ming military merit system primarily rewards frontline achievements—grants for expanding the front are generous, while those for holding the line are far fewer.

Rewards should not be feared for being few, but for being unfair; punishments should not be feared for being strict, but for being unequal; rewards promote virtue, punishments deter wickedness.

Holding the line is equally vital. The Capital Garrison relies entirely on firearms, and full-firearm warfare demands extremely high logistical support. The Liaodong Army, which secures the rear, receives far too little reward: a Liaodong soldier who fought for three years averaged only twenty taels in bonuses, whereas a Capital Garrison elite, over the same period, received anywhere from thirty to fifty taels per reward, and sometimes as much as a hundred.

Five taels in extra reward may seem small, but this extra grant signifies the Emperor remembers the Liaodong Army's merits. For the Liaodong troops, the amount matters less than the acknowledgment—it is immensely important for soldiers fighting far from home.

This is affirmation from His Majesty.

"If that's the case," Zhu Zhu Yijun said with deep feeling, "then although the Five-Tier Merit Reward system is more reasonable than the head-count system, it still has inequities—it distorts the contributions of troops holding the rear. General Qi's reminder came at just the right time."

Qi Qi Jiguang bowed and said, "The Capital Garrison officers and soldiers harbor no resentment; after all, this extra reward from His Majesty is recognition of this great victory."

The Emperor has always granted the Capital Garrison extremely generous rewards and never slighted them. His Majesty's willingness to give a little more to the Liaodong troops as fellow forces is part of strengthening the military, and the Capital Garrison officers and soldiers welcome it—they haven't lost their own share.

"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince has returned to the palace to report," Feng Bao said as soon as the Emperor finished his official business. Zhu Zhu Changzhi had returned after overseeing the burial of the fallen soldiers.

"Admit him."

Zhu Zhu Yijun explained to Qi Qi Jiguang why the Jiaolao Ceremony had changed form, and only then did Qi Qi Jiguang understand why they hadn't gone to the Jiaolao Terrace—it was to welcome the martyrs home. Only now did he learn it was the Crown Prince who had volunteered.

After paying his respects, Zhu Zhu Changzhi reported on the burial of the martyrs

one by one. The boy spoke at length, some details unclear; Xu Jue would promptly fill in the gaps. Overall, Crown Prince Zhu Zhu Changzhi had not disgraced the Emperor—he had personally buried the ashes of one soldier and erected a stele in his honor.

Zhu Zhu Changzhi said solemnly, "Huang Xu Jie was a cook from Wenzhou Prefecture, Zhejiang. He began cooking for others at age six, after his parents died when he was twelve, he joined the Zhejiang Nine Camps, was later selected for the Capital Garrison, and because of his skill in arithmetic, entered the artillery unit as an artilleryman."

"During the Battle of Zhongzhou, a Japanese reconnaissance unit crept near the artillery camp under cover of night. Huang Xu Jie raised the alarm and was killed by the enemy."

Huang Xu Jie was the martyr Zhu Zhu Changzhi buried himself. He was the night watchman that night; his alarm exposed his position. Though he fought bravely and killed three Japanese soldiers, he was ultimately slain at his post. That entire Japanese unit was later annihilated outside the artillery camp.

This is a microcosm of the Ming battlefield.

"Zhi'er, you did well," Zhu Zhu Yijun affirmed. His willingness to personally engage with these matters shows he truly recognizes the soldiers' sacrifices and their devotion to the state. No one forced him to do any of this.

Zhu Zhu Yijun did not keep Qi Qi Jiguang long, but asked after his health. Learning Qi Qi Jiguang ate well and was in excellent condition, he dismissed him back to the Grand General's Mansion.

"Your Majesty," Qi Qi Jiguang asked before leaving, "I heard in Japan that the capital has developed composite bows and composite crossbows?" As a soldier by training, he greatly admired such weapons. He had inquired before—now they were being issued to the Police Inspectorate, and civilian possession of crossbows was banned—so he simply asked outright for a reward.

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled and said, "Yes. After the various composite bows and crossbows are completed, they will all be sent to your Grand General's Mansion."

"Your servant thanks Your Majesty for this great grace," Qi Qi Jiguang exclaimed, overjoyed, and returned happily to the Grand General's Mansion.

Zhu Zhu Yijun watched Qi Qi Jiguang's retreating figure. In the original historical timeline, Qi Qi Jiguang had already died on the twentieth day of the twelfth month of the fifteenth year of Emperor Wanli. When the court learned of his death, it granted him no funeral honors, no posthumous title, no official burial, and even denied his hereditary title—the hereditary post of Commander of Dengzhou Garrison was not allowed to be inherited.

In the seventeenth year of Emperor Wanli, Qi Qi Jiguang's eldest son, Qi Qi Zuoguo, came to the capital to petition for posthumous honors, and only then was an official burial granted. It wasn't until the disastrous Battle of Sarhu, when the Ming suffered a crushing defeat, that the Emperor Wanli Emperor finally bestowed upon Qi Qi Jiguang the posthumous title Wuzhuang. It was only during the Emperor Tianqi era that it was changed to Wu Yi.

Thirteen years of military service, glorious battlefield achievements—ended in such a fate.

Now, Qi Qi Jiguang shows no sign of illness. With so many victories, he suffers few wounds. The attending imperial physician reports his condition every seven days—he remains robust. Though he can no longer draw the Tiger Strength bow, he can still fire a hundred-pound bow ten times in succession.

On the thirteenth day, Zhu Zhu Yijun issued an edict to prepare for his southern tour. On this day, early in the morning,

the court deliberated, and he held a memorial recently submitted by Zhang Zhang Youxin, newly appointed Prefect of Tianjin Prefecture.

Zhang Zhang Youxin's memorial requested imperial grace to permit the construction of a Martyrs' Cemetery in Tianjin Prefecture to bury the spirits of Tianjin's heroic dead.

The court need not spend a single tael, nor even the Tianjin Prefecture—local gentry, wealthy patrons, and powerful clans were willing to fund it themselves, requiring only that their names and donation amounts be inscribed on a small, inconspicuous stele placed in a corner.

Zhu Zhu Yijun red-penciled the memorial and shook his head. "Should such a noble deed be left to them? I will fund it myself and issue an imperial edict for its construction. Altogether, it won't exceed two hundred thousand taels."

Money was unimportant—Zhu Zhu Yijun certainly didn't lack two hundred thousand taels. As for the chance to leave one's name behind, he would never grant it to local power brokers.