Chapter 87: When Those Who Govern the State Make Policy Through Bribery, Officials Squeeze the People

I truly am not neglecting my duties. Volume Eighty-Seven: When Those Who Govern the State Make Policy Through Bribery, Officials Squeeze the People’s Fat to Flatter the Powerful

Xu Jie slowly lowered his hand; the letter slipped from his grasp. He bent down, picked it up, and the imperial demand for his land was tantamount to demanding his life!

“Too much! Too much! In the end, I’ve been crushed by my own student!”

“I taught you, guided you, clarified your doubts—I brought you into the Prince of Yu’s mansion—and this is how you repay me?”

“Gao Gong hunted me down, but even he wasn’t as cruel as you! He fabricated charges merely to keep me from returning to court—you’ve deployed this whole apparatus to kill me! To kill me!” Xu Jie gripped the letter, his face twisted with venomous fury.

The land was his life. Without it, Xu Jie was no longer Lord Xu—not a word he spoke would be heeded in the Great Ming, not even in Songjiang Prefecture.

He would protect his land at all costs—no one would lay a finger on it.

Xu Jie picked up his brush, intending to write to the capital. His eldest son, Xu Pan, began grinding ink. But Xu Jie held the brush, silent for a long while, then set it down.

“Father?” Xu Pan, watching his father’s hesitation, said gravely: “Why have you stopped? This is a matter of life and death for our family!”

“To whom can I write?” Xu Jie stared at his son’s half-extended neck, his eyes dull. “Write to Zhang Juzheng? When Hai Rui returned to court and raised the issue of land restitution, Zhang Juzheng took charge. He first drove Lu Shusheng from court, then had Chen Tang impeach Dong Chuance—clearly telling all my former students and subordinates: stay out of this.”

“If you interfere, you’ll end up like Dong Chuance. Corruption? In Hongwu’s time, it was a crime. Today—is it even still a crime?”

“Since Jiajing, those who govern the state make policy through bribery; officials squeeze the people’s fat to flatter the powerful!”

“All edicts are born of bribes. Without corruption, nothing gets done. Qi Jiguang is formidable, Yu Dayou is formidable—yet they still must offer tribute. Where does the money come from? Officials and local elites all strip the people’s flesh and blood to curry favor with the powerful!”

“And those who now hold power pursue nothing but leniency, becoming havens for debt, entrenching the rot beyond remedy. The realm has become a private domain of consolidation—private families grow rich, the state grows poor, the treasury depleted, the people impoverished—this is the true sickness of the realm!”

“Do I not know? Who in the realm isn’t corrupt? Even Zhang Juzheng is insatiable—does he refuse tribute?”

Xu Pan fell silent for a moment, then whispered: “Hai Rui?”

“Hai Rui truly isn’t corrupt.” Xu Jie choked on the words. Indeed, there were still upright ministers in this world—Hai Rui, Hai Gangfeng, a paragon of incorruptibility so pure that everyone found him unbearable. His presence in court made everyone uneasy.

Xu Jie’s bitter expression hardened again. “Son, corruption is easy to manage—invoke ancestral law: take fifty taels of silver, skin the man and stuff him with straw, display him at the Tudimiao, and let the people cheer. Who would dare then? But this culture of corruption has flourished for over a hundred years.”

“Do you know what the greatest problem with corruption is?”

Xu Pan frowned. The bribe-driven system had already shattered the Ming bureaucracy—what could be worse? He asked: “What is it?”

Xu Jie scoffed: “The evil of bribery is easy to cure; the evil of leniency is hard to stop. Why?”

“Bribery is punished only by fear and penalty.”

“But leniency perverts law into private gain, siphoning state wealth for personal enrichment. The high officials show leniency to court officials; court officials show leniency to local magistrates; local magistrates show leniency to clerks and wealthy merchants; clerks show leniency to scholar-officials. The Emperor protects nobles through the Eight Privileges; nobles collude with officials, nurturing parasites and wealthy merchants!”

“When the top suffers, the bottom prospers—private families grow rich, the state grows poor; private power grows strong, the public weakens. The treasury is empty, the people destitute—this is the realm’s greatest sickness. In-laws, mentors, fellow provincials, classmates—all merely transactions of profit.”

“Do I not know? Of course I know—but how do you eradicate this great sickness? You’re in me, I’m in you—there’s no way to root it out!”

“If leniency isn’t purged, how can bribery be cured?”

“In this world, rulers rule, ministers serve, fathers father, sons son—human relations are tangled beyond unraveling. How can a fish leave the water? All officials are trapped in the system—how can they escape the five elements? How can leniency be removed? If it could be removed, would I leave such a monumental achievement for Zhang Juzheng?”

Xu Pan fell silent for a moment, then whispered: “Zhang Juzheng?”

“Huh? It seems…” Xu Jie choked again, his expression hollow.

The letter in his hand—his student’s demand for land restitution—was phrased with such ferocity that if Xu Jie refused or caused trouble, Zhang Juzheng would show no mercy.

This move—eradicating leniency—begins with Xu Jie himself…

Xu Jie’s lips twitched. Was this son here to torment him—or to help?

Xu Jie’s expression shifted again, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Edicts are easy to break, son. Do you know how to break one?”

Xu Pan looked again at the letter and shook his head: “I don’t know. Please enlighten me, Father.”

Xu Jie rose abruptly, with firm certainty: “Push too hard, and the people will flee and rise in rebellion!”

“The people flee and rebel because corrupt officials allow scholar-officials to strip the poor, while the court offers no relief; because powerful landlords seize land, leaving the people destitute and rootless. Today, those who seize and conceal land are the powerful elite—not the common folk.”

“What does that mean?”

“The people flee and rebel because corrupt officials permit the gentry to plunder the poor, while the court offers no relief. Powerful landlords seize land, turning the poor into landless vagrants. Today, those who encroach on farmland are the powerful and wealthy—not the common folk.”

“Zhang Juzheng wants my land? I’ll return it!”

“Not only will I return mine—I’ll gather all the powerful elites of the Southern Circuit and return theirs too! Then, public outcry will swell, rumors will spread, and they’ll turn this land restitution into a revival of the well-field system. Then see who dares enforce it!”

“I don’t believe anyone can withstand this tactic.”

Xu Pan thought for a moment, realizing his father was indeed his father—he couldn’t think of anyone who could counter this move.

This was double enforcement!

Xu Jie had already planned it: he would return his land to the government offices.

Then he would spread word everywhere, showing the powerful elites of the Southern Circuit his own ruin, making them tremble, then stoke rumors: the court took Xu Jie’s land—tomorrow, it will take yours!

Then, united in outrage, they’d drown the policy in noise—Wang Daoqin would have to return every acre he seized!

Xu Pan opened his mouth to speak, but the gatekeeper rushed in, frantic, pointing outside, gasping: “Master! The Yellow Robe Envoy has arrived—he’s nearly here! He says there’s an imperial decree!”

Yu Dayou’s southern troops had arrived. He brought three thousand men, escorting the decree to the towering Taishi Tower.

Banners fluttered, heads surged. Each soldier carried a hook-spear, waist saber, musket, and second-class bow. Armor lay stacked on carts, ready to be donned. These were Qi Jiguang’s elite—half of his garrison from Jizhen had been directly transferred to Yu Dayou to stabilize Songjiang. Qi Jiguang hadn’t hesitated a moment.

Qi Jiguang’s soldiers were always the Great Ming’s soldiers.

“Imperial decree!” Two eunuchs unfurled a two-zhang scroll and shouted: “Imperial Tutor Xu Jie, receive the decree!”

Xu Jie, with Xu Pan and his entire family, froze in shock at the sight. He knew Yu Dayou had marched south—but not that he brought so many troops!

Three thousand elite soldiers could have cleared the pirates from Songjiang all the way to Guangzhou once more!

Clearly, they’d planned it: if Xu Jie refused to return the land, they’d slaughter his entire family.

“Your servant receives the decree.” Xu Jie knelt with his entire household.

Zhang Cheng stepped forward and shouted: “By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees:”

“I have heard of Lord Xu of Huating—his nature is firm and clear, his talent broad and renowned, skilled in both civil and military affairs, his fame illustrious. At a time when Yan’s faction corrupted the court and the state teetered on collapse, you exhausted your heart and strength to safeguard the realm. The empire relied on you for peace; the people found calm.”

“Yet now, the court’s upright ministers all say Hu Zongxian died in prison, and public outcry has erupted—officials have rushed to his defense.”

“At that time, the state trembled: northern barbarians breached the passes; southern pirates burned a thousand li of coast; the dynasty faced shattering, heaven and earth on the brink of collapse. Hu Zongxian, loyal to the state, fought the pirates effectively, earned merit in pacifying rebels and securing the realm—he was the pillar of the southeast, preventing its collapse. The court has now reviewed his merits and faults, cleared his name, restored his title of Shaobao, granted him an honorable burial and ancestral rites, and posthumously honored him with the epithet Xiangmao.”

“Lord Xu holds merit in securing the throne; Hu Zongxian holds merit in pacifying rebels and securing the realm.”

“I am deeply torn.”

“The Grand Secretary has devised a plan: to restore Xu Jie’s land and quell court dissent. The court has the virtue of honoring the elderly; ancestral law permits exemption for scholar-officials. As Imperial Tutor, Xu Jie has retired; his rank is elevated one grade to First Rank, granted a stipend to live in honor, and allowed to retain ten thousand mu of prime land, as a sign of imperial grace.”

“Upon receipt of this decree, the relevant offices shall carry it out.”

“Let this decree be proclaimed throughout the realm, so all may know.”

“This is the decree.”

Zhang Cheng finished reading. Xu Jie understood the decree’s meaning—his face turned ashen.

The decree began with lavish praise, then used Hu Zongxian’s rehabilitation to implicate Xu Jie: Hu Zongxian was wronged, so those who framed him—Xu Jie—must be held accountable.

Ge Shouli told Wu Dui: Wu Dui’s treatment in the imperial prison was excellent—fine food, fine drink, no snakes or insects—because he disapproved of Xu Jie’s actions. At least Gao Gong didn’t lock Xu Jie in a cell to starve; Yang Bo didn’t imprison his rivals; Zhang Juzheng didn’t ruthlessly pursue Gao Gong in the assassination case.

Ge Shouli despised Xu Jie. When Hu Zongxian died, Yan Shifan had already been beheaded, Yan Song had left the capital, Hu Zongxian had lived in seclusion for over two years without seeking reinstatement—in effect, Hu Zongxian was already politically dead, a harmless figure.

Xu Jie’s relentless pursuit was disapproved by Ge Shouli—and by most court officials.

The decree’s meaning: the court is torn—both sides are its own flesh.

To quell dissent, it corrects Xu Jie’s minor, slight deviation—thus appeasing public anger.

Wealth is external—born with nothing, dead with nothing. Confucians disdain profit; a little wealth is merely the price of peace!

All fine words—but in essence, two words: return the land.

Xu Jie’s plan had failed again. The court demanded land return, yet raised his rank by one grade and granted him ten thousand mu—enough to support his family. But if the Emperor claimed he intended to revive the well-field system and seize all land, the powerful elites would never believe it.

Zhang Juzheng’s flawless combination strike left Xu Jie no chance to resist. Surrender now, and he keeps ten thousand mu—more than enough for his entire household.

If Xu Jie refused, things would not be so simple. Zhang Juzheng’s approval of Yu Dayou’s arrival in Songjiang meant he’d already decided to kill. Refuse to return land, and he’ll slaughter everyone. Behind this lie seventy thousand mu of illegally seized land—Xu Jie’s refusal means the entire Southern Circuit refuses.

Wang Daoqin, who hated Xu Jie and called him Qin Gui, stood right before him.

Xu Jie clung to his last hope: that Wang Daoqin still remembered their old grudge, and in enforcing the decree, would seize even his ten thousand mu.

Then, Wang Daoqin would bear the blame for overzealous enforcement—rumors and public outcry might yet be stirred.

Double enforcement need not be carried out by Xu Jie himself—Wang Daoqin, the enforcer, could do it instead!

Wang Daoqin saw Xu Jie’s entire family rise. He rushed forward with a broad smile, bowing deeply: “Lord Xu, long time no see! I still recall your glory when you governed. Today, you still shine—your spirit undimmed!”

“Lord Xu, our soldiers have marched long distances—might we be granted temporary lodging?”

Xu Jie, broken, muttered: “Of course, of course.”

Wang Daoqin had decided: twenty-four thousand mu of illegally seized land—exactly that, not one mu more, not one mu less. He had no intention of doubling it.

Wang Daoqin hated Xu Jie—he longed to see him ruined.

Wang Daoqin had spent years campaigning for Hu Zongxian’s rehabilitation. The night Hu Zongxian was cleared, Wang Daoqin got roaring drunk, wept uncontrollably, hugged a pillar as if it were Hu Zongxian, pouring out years of pent-up grief.

Hu Zongxian was Wang Daoqin’s battle-brother, fellow townsman. They’d fought side by side for twelve years against the pirates. The pirates were defeated—but Hu Zongxian died in prison. Wang Daoqin hated him—he wanted to eat Xu Jie’s flesh, tear out his heart, drink his blood!

But reality was harsh: Hu Zongxian’s rehabilitation was already a miracle. Wang Daoqin knew clearly: this land restitution targeted the former Chief Grand Secretary.

If Wang Daoqin pushed too hard, he might trigger rebellion by overzealous enforcement and derail the policy.

Xu Jie was a veteran of the court, a cunning, patient man who had destroyed the Yan faction after twenty years of concealment. Wang Daoqin knew he was no match for him.

Such a man must be dealt with by the Grand Secretary.

The Grand Secretary had made thorough arrangements. Wang Daoqin would not recklessly sabotage this land restitution.

Wang Daoqin knew exactly why he’d come to Songjiang: the Songjiang Customs Office was state policy—he would not ruin national strategy for personal vengeance.

So Wang Daoqin appeared with a smile, feigning reluctance: “I wish I could refuse, but the Emperor’s decree and court consensus leave me no choice—I must enforce it.”

He hated it to the core, yet smiled brightly—that was the basic duty of a bureaucrat.

Xu Jie’s servants began packing. The Jinze Garden villa was among the lands to be reclaimed—Xu Jie could no longer live there.

Yu Dayou, Wang Daoqin, and Zhang Cheng all treated him with polite courtesy, yet watched every servant remove every last item from the grand villa.

Xu Jie stood before the Taishi Tower, utterly desolate. His every tactic—Zhang Juzheng knew them all! Zhang Juzheng was his own hand-picked pupil!

When Zhang Juzheng moved against Xu Jie, Xu Jie had no chance to resist.

At present, Zhang Juzheng holds power; with authority firmly in his hands, Xu Jie still treats him with such caution—how can Xu Jie possibly respond!

Xu Fan looked at Wang Daoqun’s expression, fell silent for a long while, then said: “Father, you just said—who could subdue such overwhelming tactics? Look, there’s an imperial edict…”

“Which side are you on?! Which side?! Are you deliberately provoking me?! Are you?!” Xu Jie flew into a rage, snatched up his cane, and swung at Xu Fan, who dodged aside. The father and son chased each other for a while before finally stopping.

“Father, beating me won’t help. Wang Daoqun is your enemy. When you held power, he submitted memorials with such fierce language he nearly wanted to devour us both. Today’s behavior of his? He was surely warned by the Grand Secretary before coming. The stakes were made perfectly clear—we cannot defeat Gao Gong, let alone Zhang Juzheng.”

“Father, let’s surrender.” Xu Fan leaned on the table, urging Xu Jie to yield.

Xu Fan saw Xu Jie’s expression soften and continued: “Send a letter of thanks. Once the court learns we harbor loyal intentions, they might even grant us some favor. After all, the Regional Governor of Nanjing, Song Yangshan, still needs to investigate land encroachments—and he still needs us to pacify the southern gentry.”

“He wants my life—am I supposed to offer my neck?!” Xu Jie remained stubborn: “This isn’t farmland—it’s my life!”

Xu Fan fell silent for a moment, then said: “But Father, Zhang Juzheng still left you ten thousand mu of prime farmland.”

Zhang Juzheng has truly been most considerate. With the tide of court opinion turning toward rehabilitating Hu Zongxian and bestowing posthumous honors, Zhang Juzheng has managed to preserve Xu Jie’s remaining reputation and ten thousand mu of land—this is already extreme mercy. Given Zhang Juzheng’s vengeful nature, if you had refused to comply, would he have acted so gently?

Xu Jie knew clearly he would not.

Facing overwhelming force, only facts can speak. Only by adhering strictly to truth and enforcing harsh laws can one respond at all.

“My disciple is stronger than I am.” Xu Jie sighed. In court, he had never outmaneuvered Gao Gong, let alone Zhang Juzheng.

When Xu Jie hunted down the remnants of Yan Song’s family and engineered Hu Zongxian’s wrongful case, he harmed the virtuous and immediately fell into a defensive position. Gao Gong seized the opportunity, relentlessly attacking until Xu Jie was forced to submit nine memorials resigning and returning to his hometown.

Now Zhang Juzheng is purging Gao Gong’s remnants and the Xinzheng faction—like the Jin Party. Has Zhang Juzheng been anything less than ruthless? Yet throughout, he never caused the kind of public alienation that Hu Zongxian’s case triggered, never plunged himself into absolute disadvantage.

Prince Chengguo Zhu Xixiao had long waited for harmony. He waited for Xia Yan, Yan Song, Xu Jie, Gao Gong—and finally, he waited for Zhang Juzheng, backed by the Emperor. But he passed away. This is why Prince Chengguo, at his final moment, recommended Qi Jiguang.

Prince Chengguo knew he had finally obtained harmony.

Xu Fan reread the imperial edict, and the more he read, the more suspicious it became. He hurried over and said: “Father, this edict bears the Emperor’s own handwriting. Look here—‘Upon receipt, the responsible offices shall immediately execute it.’ This phrase clearly was written by a ten-year-old child…”

A child’s handwriting, due to lack of experience, is instantly recognizable. Most of the edict clearly bears Zhang Juzheng’s draft, but the final line—“Upon receipt, the responsible offices shall immediately execute it”—has entirely different script.

The Directorate of Ceremonial may suggest revisions to draft edicts from the Grand Secretariat and return them for redrafting, but only the Emperor himself may write directly on a finalized edict.

“Hmm? Ah.” Xu Jie glanced at it, sighed deeply, and waved his hand: “Enough. Enough.”

With imperial authority backing imperial authority—what could Xu Jie possibly use to fight?

Xu Jie signaled his son to follow Wang Daoqun and gradually settle the land restitution matters.

He stood at the gate of the Jinze Garden villa, took one last look at his home, and chose to leave. No matter how bitter his resentment, he had no recourse.

“General Yu, what do you think Xu Jie is thinking right now?” Wang Daoqun stood on the second floor of Taishi Tower, watching Xu’s household carts depart, his brow furrowed.

Yu Dayou shook his head: “Not regret. Xu Jie knows full well where the Great Ming’s great flaws lie—but he knowingly violates them. He knows this is wrong, yet he still does it.”

“We’ve taken our first victory. Watch—Xu Jie will surely stir up trouble to obstruct the Southern Command’s clearance of encroached lands. He’s unwilling to yield. Look at his lingering gaze—he’s unwilling. He’s staring at Taishi Tower—how could he possibly accept it?”

“It’s fine. I still have a few good years left. I’ll wait for him.”

Yu Dayou gripped the Emperor’s sword tightly. The young Emperor had earnestly hoped that Yu Dayou, this “Yu Dragon,” could uphold the southeastern sky.

Yu Dayou would use this sword to hold up the sky for His Majesty!

Wang Daoqun smiled: “True enough. Thank you, General Yu, for recruiting vagrants and tenant farmers into the military colonies. That’s indeed troublesome.”

“You scholar-officials struggle to handle common folk, but we southern troops are different,” Yu Dayou smiled. “During the pirate campaigns, when our scouts didn’t know where the pirates were, the common people always knew perfectly well.”

“No trouble. Just spread the word: Yu Dayou is recruiting soldiers in Songjiang Prefecture to pacify the seas. In a few days, I’ll have them all.”

Recruiting vagrants and tenant farmers into military colonies was a practical task, but Yu Dayou’s decades-long reputation as a pirate suppressor remained unshaken. Could the “Yu Dragon,” who had stirred chaos in Songjiang Prefecture, possibly lack vagrants and tenant farmers?

Wasn’t this precisely why the Emperor sent him?

Not long after, the Orderly Officer rushed into the Jinze Garden villa, found Yu Dayou, and handed him a courier report, bowing deeply: “General Yu! Twelve bands of bandits and two pirate groups have been spotted in Songjiang Prefecture!”

“Deploy scouts to investigate, gather full intelligence, and prepare to crush the bandits and pacify the pirates!” Yu Dayou rose after reading the report.

During the pirate campaigns, Yu Dayou, Qi Jiguang, and other southern troops had a proven method to swiftly win popular support: crush the bandits and pacify the pirates.

These bandits and pirates were the most direct executioners of the people; killing them earned the people’s support. With the people’s backing, logistics, supplies, and reconnaissance all became effortless.

Yu Dayou was old, but when it came to his old trade, he remained perfectly at ease.

Thirteen days later, Yu Dayou’s southern troops marched out. In just three days, they captured fourteen bandit dens and four water fortresses, beheaded over three hundred, captured more than two thousand three hundred, and shook Songjiang Prefecture to its core!

The entire Southern Command heard of Yu Dayou’s victory and dared not stir. The “Yu Dragon,” who had once crushed pirates so thoroughly they dared not invade the southeast, was leading troops again!

As for the captives, they would all be forced laborers—any dirty, exhausting work fell to them.

“Father, don’t stir up trouble! Look how fierce this Yu Dragon is—he cleared out the bandit dens and water fortresses that had festered in Songjiang for decades in just seventeen days, not a single hair left! That’s too terrifying!”

“If we insist on causing trouble, when Yu Dragon’s axe falls upon us, how can we possibly survive?!” Xu Fan was truly afraid.

Xu Fan knew well the danger posed by Songjiang’s bandits and pirates; Yu Dayou had wiped them out cleanly in seventeen days—the people cheered.

Even if we used cunning to eliminate Yu Dayou, the court still had Qi Jiguang. When the Great Ming’s southern army marched, not a single member of Xu Jie’s household would escape.

“Submit a letter of thanks—thank the Emperor’s grace.” Xu Jie waved his hand, signaling Xu Fan to draft the thank-you memorial. Xu Fan had once served in court and even helped repair the Yongshou Palace for Emperor Jiajing. He could certainly write a proper thank-you memorial.

When Zhu Yijun received Xu Jie’s thank-you memorial and Yu Dayou’s victory report, he smiled knowingly. The “Yu Dragon” truly was the Yu Dragon.

“It’s not that Zhang Yuanfu’s tactics were so brilliant—Xu Jie would have caused no end of trouble otherwise. General Yu is still formidable.” Zhu Yijun held both memorials, smiling at Zhang Hong. Yu Dayou had not disappointed him. Entrusting the newly established naval force of Songjiang’s Maritime Customs to Yu Dayou had been the right choice.

Zhang Hong bowed: “The Yu Dragon and the Qi Tiger—these are our Great Ming’s two most formidable generals in suppressing pirates. The southeast relies heavily on them.”

“Hu Zongxian’s wrongful case can only be investigated this far. I am displeased. I am very displeased.” Zhu Yijun stamped both memorials: on Xu Jie’s thank-you memorial, he wrote: “I have received it.” On Yu Dayou’s victory report, he wrote: “I am pleased.”

Zhu Yijun said firmly: “Zhang Hong, record this: just as the powerful families of Liyang County in Suzhou Prefecture encroached on farmland, so too must this be noted. One day, I will settle this matter.”

The young Emperor’s heart was smaller than a needlepoint.

Zhang Hong thought for a moment and said: “Your Majesty, how could Xu Jie possibly refrain from stirring trouble? Forcing him to return land is like cutting his flesh and drinking his blood. He’s returned it only because the tide has turned. In a few days, he’ll cause trouble again. I believe it won’t take long.”

Zhu Yijun nodded: “Perfect.”

Zhang Hong bowed: “Your Majesty, the secret chamber is ready.”

“Tomorrow,” Zhu Yijun waved his small hand. “Early to bed, early to rise, grow tall. I’m tired. Time to sleep!”

Zhu Yijun had been busy all day—court deliberations, lectures, martial training, inspecting the capital garrisons, serving at the Baoqi Office, stamping memorials, reading agricultural texts. He had been working from dawn to dusk. In half a year, his weight had dropped from 103 jin to 85 jin.

Winter arrived. The cold wind cut like knives across the capital’s land, whipping up vast clouds of yellow dust. Winter Solstice neared, and the weather grew colder. Zhu Yijun specially ordered the side hall of the Wenhua Palace opened, so the Great Ming’s ministers could wait for court deliberations inside, rather than freezing outside.

“Your subjects pay homage, Your Majesty. How is Your Majesty’s health?”

“Rise. I am well—and in excellent spirits. General Yu captured eighteen bandit strongholds within three days of arriving in Songjiang. The bandits and pirates of the region have been swept clean. I am greatly delighted. Grand Secretary, issue an imperial decree according to protocol to commend his merit.” Zhu Yijun waved his small hand, his mood bright.

Was there anything more beautiful than a victory?

“Your servant obeys.” Zhang Juzheng accepted the order. He had received the courier report yesterday and had already drafted the edict—waiting only for the Emperor’s seal.

Drafting edicts for the Emperor was the original duty of the Grand Secretariat—to serve as the Emperor’s secretary, handling daily documents. The Grand Secretariat gradually grew powerful because it stood at the apex of civil authority. From the moment its ministers began attaching marginal notes to memorials, its current form was inevitable.

Because marginal notes were partial decision-making power.

Zhang Hong placed Lü Diaoyang’s drafted edict on the desk. Zhu Yijun read it carefully, then took the Wanli Imperial Seal and stamped it.

The edict was official bureaucratic rhetoric.

In essence: Yu Dayou’s eighteen victories in Songjiang greatly intimidated the powerful families in the Southern Command who had been emboldened by Xu Jie’s land return campaign, utterly shattering their unrealistic fantasy of colluding with bandits and pirates to defy imperial authority, laying a solid foundation for reclaiming encroached lands in the Southern Command and fundamentally enhancing the people’s sense of security in Songjiang. The court was deeply gratified, and the young emperor specially issued an imperial decree to reward him.

“Begin the court deliberation. I’m going to read.” Zhu Yijun waved his small hand, signaling the ministers to begin their bickering.

“Grand Secretary Hai, Xu Gong has returned the land. Is this matter settled? If he stirs up trouble again, should we resume investigation?” Zhang Juzheng first raised Xu Jie’s land return, wanting to close the case before proceeding.

Hai Rui, of course, knew Xu Jie had returned the land. He smiled: “If he doesn’t cause trouble, I have no grudge against him—I won’t pursue him. But if he does cause trouble, it won’t be a dispute with me, Hai Rui—it will be a conflict with the Grand Secretary. Then, naturally, the Grand Secretary will deal with him. It won’t be my place.”

The brilliance lay here: every tactic forcing Xu Jie to return land had been orchestrated entirely by Zhang Juzheng. If Xu Jie refused to return land—or returned it and then stirred trouble—it would be an offense against the sitting Grand Secretary, and Zhang Juzheng would deal with him.

Hai Rui realized Zhang Juzheng’s nature: either do nothing, feign compliance—or act thoroughly, to the very end.

Seven hundred thousand mu of land—seventy thousand qing—still awaited clearance of encroachments in the Southern Command. This grand drama had only just begun.

Zhang Juzheng nodded: “Agreed.”

“Luo Gongchen submitted a memorial urging reconsideration of the maritime trade tax. Foreign ships crossing the ocean carry vast amounts of silver. The state has the Single Whip Law, which requires enormous silver reserves. If foreign ships are not taxed, private wealth grows daily while the state’s treasury dwindles.”

“Let me state my view first.”

The Southern Command’s campaign to clear encroachments and reclaim land continued until the sixth year of Wanli, fully completed—including the lands of Xu Jie and his in-laws. In the tenth year of Wanli, Zhang Juzheng, amid universal acclaim, passed away. Those lands returned to the hands of the encroaching powerful families. A long sigh.