Chapter 472: Impeachment

The Emperor bestowing the title of Loyal and Brave Count on Commander Cao had invisibly nudged him a step closer toward the Meritorious Aristocracy Bloc.

The Meritorious Aristocracy Bloc was the military nobility — a hereditary aristocratic faction that rose to prominence through military achievements.

Although Commander Cao's earldom could not yet be passed down hereditarily, everyone knew that if a certain someone could just follow that blueprint and slaughter the Tartars one more time, the Emperor would certainly elevate him to Marquis and permit hereditary succession. And once it became hereditary, that would mean the man had formally become a member of the Meritorious Aristocracy Bloc.

Under the most ideal circumstances, if Commander Cao could, in the years to come, strike straight at Huang Long and utterly annihilate the Tartars, then he could be enfeoffed as Duke, or even posthumously named a King. After that, his descendants could, like the Wei Duke Xu Da, garrison a major city with an unbroken hereditary title, enjoying glory, wealth, and splendor, enduring alongside the dynasty itself.

This path was, basically, the optimal solution a Ming military man could choose. Unfortunately, the further one advanced along this route, the more it actually required increasingly sophisticated political acumen. That was why, even during the early Ming when enfeoffment was easier, aside from a select few like Xu Da who could laugh last, everyone else fell by the wayside.

By the mid-Ming, a major turning point occurred in the Great Ming's political landscape — the Tumubao Incident — where the core strength of the Meritorious Aristocracy military faction was wiped out overnight.

After Tumubao, the civil officials, represented by Yu Qian, reorganized the army groups, seized the opportunity to push the Ministry of War into issuing commands, and delivered a dimensionality reduction strike against the Five Chief Military Commissions, which had lost all its branches, fundamentally altering the Ming's military command structure.

From that point on, the Meritorious Aristocracy military men were thoroughly suppressed. The Jianjun System became a fixed institution on the front lines, and the situation of civil officials leading troops grew increasingly common — Governor-General, Fuzhou Governor, Regional Commander, Military Commissioner... there was no role left for the Meritorious Aristocracy.

Later, by the mid-to-late Ming, the military nobility and the hereditary guard-battalion system had grown decadent, and the entire faction's power became even more feeble, carrying no weight among the court's major power blocs.

As a result, the Civil Official Bloc was even less inclined to relinquish the power it had seized — even the battle-proven Qi Jiguang, obstructed by civil officials, failed to obtain a single nobility rank by the time of his death.

The earldom Cao Jiangjun had now obtained, though less valuable than those of the early Ming, remained, for the vast majority of Ming military officers, an orange-tier piece of equipment — longed for but forever out of reach.

In truth, the fact that Cao Jiangjun had successfully been enfeoffed this time without facing resistance was actually thanks to the Tartars. After all, Grandpa Qi's opponents were the Wokou pirates, and the Wokou would never dispatch a great army to besiege Beijing, annihilate entire Ming field formations, and frighten the Emperor and the entire civil and military court awake in the middle of the night, secretly preparing for their own funerals.

That said, the Loyal and Brave Count's current position was actually a bit awkward.

As for the Meritorious Aristocracy — he hadn't yet formally entered that circle. As for being Vice Minister of War — that was merely an honorary title, utterly unconnected to the civil officials.

So in the end, the Loyal and Brave Count was still just a military officer, the kind commonly known as a Qiu Ao. At court sessions, he had to stand among the crowd of military officers, and his position was relatively far back, because ahead of him were still the Cabinet Ministers and the Huangqin Guochi, figures of higher rank and seniority.

Speaking of court sessions, after resting for a day in his bestowed residence, Commander Cao officially began attending these early-morning shifts unique to the ancient world.

The day Chongzhen had hosted the National Banquet, the diligent Emperor had, uncharacteristically, granted all officials a day off the next day — no need to go to Huangji Hall for the formality of morning court... However, and yet, BUT, work still had to be done.

The Emperor himself had gone to Zumiao to make sacrificial offerings and inform the ancestors: such a great victory — shouldn't Comrade Zhu Baba be given a word about it?

After that day passed, by the early hours of the following morning, His Excellency the Loyal and Brave Count had no choice but to crawl out of his warm bed and prepare for court.

In theory, as long as one was a Beijing official, or a provincial official on assignment in Beijing, one had the right to attend court.

And the rule of attending morning court every single day had been established by the Great Ming's old-generation model worker, Zhu Yuanzhang.

Old Zhu came from a farming background. Later, after abolishing the position of Chancellor, he feared being deceived by others, so he instituted the rule of daily morning court for all officials, his original intent being to observe the people's conditions firsthand and avoid being misled. After this, a few Emperors also observed daily morning court as an ancestral institution, the most formidable among them being the new-generation model worker, Chongzhen.

According to the Great Ming Collected Statutes: on a morning court day, high officials had to rise at midnight, traverse half of Beijing, and then arrive outside the Meridian Gate by 3 a. m. to wait.

And so, in the shivering cold winds of an early April northern night during the Little Ice Age, His Excellency the Loyal and Brave Count, full of pent-up resentment, had no choice but to blend into the pitch-black, dense crowd, waiting in front of the Meridian Gate and drinking the wind.

"This is just pure fucking disregard for employees as human beings — are they counting on the Great Ming having no labor arbitration?"

Zhang Dongdong, who came from later generations, found this inhumane way of commuting especially unbearable. The moment he thought about how this agony would continue for some time to come, the Loyal and Brave Count's killing intent surged: "No wonder they wanted to overthrow the old society — just for this alone, it's worth doing!"

After mentally fantasizing about seven or eight different plans for arresting the entire civil and military court and torturing their family assets out of them, 5 a. m. finally arrived. Drums sounded atop the Meridian Gate tower, and the palace gates swung open.

At this point, the officials had to line up and enter in sequence, cross Jin Shui Bridge, and then assemble in formation on the plaza. When all preparations were complete and the sky began to pale, the Emperor, surrounded by a large retinue of eunuchs and guards, arrived at Huangji Gate.

Mingled within the ranks, Zhang Dongdong could only obediently advance and retreat with the formation at this moment, following the master of ceremonies' chanting and performing the grand ritual of one kneel and three kowtows alongside the hundred officials.

At this point, His Excellency the Loyal and Brave Count had completed the full set of Great Ming formalist procedures. From here on, he only needed to act as a human background board, just like the generals and Meritorious Aristocracy members beside him. If his luck was good, court would be dismissed before long, and he could return to his residence for a morning catch-up nap.

Today's morning court indeed had nothing to do with the Loyal and Brave Count, because everyone knew the Emperor's agenda had only one item: sending off the various King's Rescue troops.

Because this Jisi Incident marked the Later Jin's first breach of the passes, virtually all of the Great Ming's Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces — including the Nine Border Garrisons and various frontier tribal chieftain forces — had dispatched King's Rescue troops.

Now that the northern barbarians had withdrawn and all critical border passes had been recovered, it was time to send the troops from each province back to their original stations. After all, with so many troops massed in the outskirts of Beijing, the logistical pressure was immense, and the Emperor, a poor wretch, simply could not afford to keep them any longer.

And so, over the time that followed, Provincial Regional Commanders, Vice Generals, and the like from various provinces continuously stepped forward from the crowd to receive their commendations. Each time a military officer finished receiving the rewards the Emperor bestowed, he would also take the opportunity to bid farewell to Chongzhen.

It is worth mentioning that the Cannibal Zu Dashou today, just as in history, feared the Emperor would turn hostile and seize him, and therefore still did not appear in Beijing. The Guanning Army's representative was Cao Wenzhao.

In this timeline, due to the appearance of the Transmigrators, the Guanning Army's situation was even slightly worse than it had been historically.

In this King's Rescue operation, aside from the 300 Tartar heads from the Zunhua garrison, the Guanning Army had not obtained any further merits. Although Chongzhen had generously bestowed the credit for recovering the four cities upon Sun Chengzong and Ma Shilong, in truth, everyone knew perfectly well who had actually taken those four cities.

And most importantly, Chongzhen was not, as he had been historically, in a position where he could not survive without the Guanning Army — the Emperor now had the Loyal and Brave Count.

So Zu Dashou's absence was the correct choice. Knowing Chongzhen's temperament, if he saw him, there was a real chance the Emperor would turn hostile and throw that scoundrel into the imperial prison.

The long and complicated commendation process was excruciatingly tedious. Out of sheer boredom, the Loyal and Brave Count could only half-close his eyes, standing in the ranks in a state between sleep and wakefulness, his head half-lowered in a pose of piety.

When the time reached 9 a. m., the lengthy commendation activities finally concluded. By this point, the entire civil and military court had been standing on the plaza before Huangji Hall for a full three hours... Clearly, being an official in the Ming dynasty was no easy task. No matter your age, you rose before dawn, stood through winter's coldest days and summer's hottest — employee abuse, confirmed.

When the duty eunuch stepped forward and, following custom, shrieked out that classic line — "If there is business, report early; if there is none, withdraw from court" — every employee on the plaza let out a deep breath.

Now they only needed to endure a few more seconds. Once the eunuch called out the word "Withdraw," the comrades could disperse and go back to drink tea.

Just at that moment, a ringing voice burst from the ranks: "Your servant has a memorial to present!"

In the next instant, under the furious gazes of over a thousand employees, an official wearing a Seventh Rank green robe stepped out of formation, raised his memorial high with both hands, and, staring straight ahead without a sideways glance, made his way to the foot of the white marble steps and knelt firmly: "Your servant, Gongke Jishizhong Wei Xu, submits a memorial to impeach the Loyal and Brave Count Cao Chuan for a total of twelve major crimes, including cruelty to the people, overstepping his authority, and plotting rebellion."

A wave of noise erupted — the previously drowsy crowd of officials, upon hearing such explosive impeachment content, burst into an uproar, and a buzzing murmur instantly filled the plaza.

At the same time, the previously drowsy Loyal and Brave Count snapped his eyes wide open, his face a picture of shock: "What the hell, someone actually filed an impeachment against me? Wasn't this supposed to be the honeymoon period, with no one coming to stir up trouble?"

Feeling the intense gazes cast at him from all around, Zhang Dongdong's heart raced, and adrenaline began pumping in large quantities: "They're forcing me to flesh out my character profile, huh. Fine, fine, fine — want to play? Then let's play!"

Just as His Excellency the Loyal and Brave Count's eyes gleamed with ferocity and his face filled with killing intent, the Chongzhen Emperor, seated high atop the three-tiered dais, was likewise ashen-faced.

Grabbing a paperweight from the desk and hurling it down violently, the Emperor said in a furious voice: "Grandstanding for attention! Guards, strip this clown of his hat and drag him away for interrogation!"

The Emperor's outburst was not without reason.

The good melon-farmer Commander Cao, who had just finished participating in the prisoner-presentation ceremony and delivering melons to Beijing, was, in the parlance of later generations, a super-advanced model citizen.

Not to mention that Chongzhen still intended to have a thorough discussion with Commander Cao about the matter of the northern barbarians. Even if someone wanted to impeach him, they should have waited a period of time, until the heat had died down, right? How could anyone play this game on such a special ceremonial occasion as today?

At this critical juncture, for such a clueless clown to jump out and disgust everyone — this was a naked slap in Chongzhen's face.

Thus, the young Emperor was beside himself with rage. Not only did he lose his composure and hurl the paperweight, but he also ordered on the spot that Wei Xu be stripped of his official post, intending to throw this clown into prison first and ask questions later.

However, this clown was, after all, a member of the Scholar-Official bloc. The Emperor could not simply have the final say in everything.

In the next moment, a high-ranking official in a red robe stepped forward. After emerging from the ranks, this man declared in a clear voice: "Your Majesty, it is the ancestral institution that the court does not punish a man for his words. Moreover, Wei Xu, in his capacity as a Supervising Secretary, is merely performing his duty by submitting an impeachment memorial — how can he be punished for this? I beseech Your Majesty to retract your decree!"