Chapter 480: Consequences
Drawing in investment from the capital's wealthy was a move that killed many birds with one stone.
By the late Ming, the state finances had sunk into severe stagflation. On one end, the nation was poor and the people destitute; on the other, the gentry class hoarded vast sums of stolen state tax revenue, keeping it out of economic circulation. Disasters and man-made calamities struck everywhere, and the upper strata, already sensing the crisis, had begun stockpiling grain and fodder to winter out the storm.
Yet not one of them could ever have imagined that a man named Li Zicheng would eventually torture and plunder every last tael of silver from their hands… twenty million taels in all.
People of later generations know that for an economy to grow, currency must circulate. So the Transmigrators threw out their land-purchase plan: the capital's wealthy all had money, and rather than wait to be plundered, they might as well bring it out early and buy land.
This way, the originally clogged blood vessels would, in effect, start working again — the silver from land purchases would be used on the spot by the Transmigrators, revitalizing the northern economy, buying up northern refugees, and achieving multiple goals at once.
And the policy requiring clients to bring their own farming manpower was absolutely necessary. One could even say that this was the true purpose behind the Transmigrators' absorption of capital from the capital.
This way, the accusation of "rebels absorbing refugees" simply ceased to exist.
The ancients understood this set of tricks perfectly well; for thousands of years, their forebears had already played every variation of it. In the present chaos of frequent disasters and wars, if a power bloc was wantonly absorbing refugees, was there any explanation other than plotting rebellion?
In the previous impeachment memorials accusing Commander Cao, the most severe charge listed was precisely the absorption of refugees — a point on which the entire civil and military court tacitly agreed.
That was why Commander Cao promptly threw out the land-purchase policy to offset this very charge.
The core of the land-purchase policy lay in the false concept it gave investors: the land was bought by the master himself, and the tenant farmers were likewise the master's own estate hands — none of these assets bore the surname Cao. Since both population and land were dispersed among the various lords, shipping people to Yizhou no longer violated any rules.
Yes, up to this point, that was exactly how the lords reasoned.
Furthermore, a portion of the gentry who harbored deep hostility toward Commander Cao also kept a backup plan.
If, in the future, the man surnamed Cao knew his place, everyone would simply carry on; if he didn't, then he'd have only himself to blame. The land and population belonged to the lords, after all. If it came down to it, they could still maneuver the court into launching a campaign in Yizhou to replace native chieftains with regular administration, establishing commanderies and counties… Sure, once the County Magistrate arrived, agricultural taxes would have to be paid, but it would be none of that Cao fellow's business anymore.
This counted as a mutual-ruin backup plan.
It's still the same old story: you had your eye on someone else's XX, and someone else had their eye on… The lords' schemes all looked beautiful on paper. As for the outcome — time would tell.
In any case, after the land-purchase policy was rolled out, the greatest accusation currently facing Commander Cao simply vanished. The clause requiring investors to "bring their own farmers" shattered every legal shackle, allowing the Transmigrators to rapidly break open the situation in the north, borrow the wind to gain momentum, and carve out an even "thicker" channel for transporting population.
Once the two most critical clauses — tax exemption and self-transport of population — were negotiated, the remaining policies mattered little. After all, investors would first send teams to conduct inspections; once they went to Yizhou and experienced it for themselves, they would understand all the policies clearly.
With all matters settled, the day finally came for Commander Cao to leave the capital.
On the morning of April 27, 1630, the Loyal and Brave Count and Left Regional Commander Cao Chuan formally bid farewell to the Chongzhen Emperor in open court. After receiving yet another round of gifts bestowed by the emperor — coins, brocades, and the like — the Loyal and Brave Count, at noon that very day, said goodbye to his mansion, still under renovation, and to the remaining Adjutant Xue, then led his personal guard detachment out of the capital.
Unexpectedly, on the way out of the city, there were actually Ming People standing along the long street to see him off. Though the crowd was not large this time, the people's enthusiasm was undiminished, and Lord Cao departed the capital amid a chorus of blessings wishing him "ducal and marquisal rank for ten thousand generations."
Exiting the capital, they rendezvoused with the main force at the encampment outside the city. Turning back for one last look at the ancient city gradually receding into the distance, the group of Transmigrators gave their horses free rein and led the column toward Tianjin.
From this moment on, the Jisi Incident — which had lasted half a year and historically marked the official start of the Ming state's death-knell countdown — was stamped with a special full stop, its course altered by the Transmigrators.
Historically, the Jisi Incident had far-reaching influence and immense significance.
This campaign was far more than just the Later Jin's first breach of the passes to plunder. It dealt an incalculable blow to Ming's politics and economy, and even to the confidence for war, from court to countryside.
Moreover, it was during this very Jisi Incident that certain changes — seemingly inconspicuous yet profoundly consequential — also quietly emerged.
Looking at the surface impact: first, this campaign shook the Ming state's altars of state and rocked the temple halls.
Huang Taiji's siege of the city with his army signaled the shattering of the Chongzhen restoration dream. During the campaign, the defensive system of the Ming Capital Region was dealt a devastating blow; six high-ranking officers — Regional Commanders Zhao Shuai Jiao, Man Gui, Sun Zushou, Ma Dengyun, Hei Yunlong, and Zhu Guoyan — were either killed or captured.
Additionally, Minister of War Wang Qia, Minister of Works Zhang Fengxiang, Governor of Jizhou and Liaodong Yuan Chonghuan, Grand Coordinator of Zunhua Wang Yuanya, and Regional Commander of Jizhou and Liaodong Defense Liu Ce, among others, either died or were imprisoned. Panic gripped the court, and the bureaucratic apparatus suffered a grievous wound to its vital energy.
Second, court politics fell into chaos. After the Later Jin army withdrew, the Ming Court, far from learning its lesson, seized the opportunity for factional infighting. From Cabinet Grand Secretaries of the Donglin Party — Han Kuang, Qian Longxi, Cheng Jiming, Li Biao — on down, officials were dismissed, replaced by men like Zhou Yanru and Wen Tiren entering the Cabinet; the Six Ministries and Nine Ministers were reshuffled accordingly.
Third, the capital's defenses were hollow and slack. Before this, the capital had enjoyed 180 years of peace. When war suddenly descended, there was no practical preparation whatsoever from top to bottom; the defending troops fell into utter chaos, and the capital nearly fell into Later Jin hands.
Finally, wealth was plundered and the people were plunged into misery. The Capital Region and Jingdong area were subjected to large-scale looting and pillaging; the people suffered grievously, and every trade withered. All of the above intensified Ming's social contradictions and accelerated its demise.
This campaign holds extremely great significance in history. It marked a major shift in the strategic situation between Ming and Qing: the Ming's previous policies of fortress advancement, economic blockade, and diplomatic alliances all successively collapsed around this campaign, and Ming permanently lost the strategic initiative.
Beyond these losses, other things also escaped from Pandora's box.
Shortly after the Jisi Incident, the Great Ming Court, under crushing fiscal pressure, lifted the restrictions on "purchased offices" and began selling official posts on a massive scale.
Before this, successive courts had also sold offices, but that was limited to selling merchants the title of Imperial Academy student, merely to facilitate their sons' and younger kin's future participation in the civil examinations — the total volume was controllable.
This time, however, the sale of offices was large-scale: anyone across the entire realm who put up the money could become an official, and could even buy substantive, real-power posts. This trend then grew ever more virulent, until by the late Chongzhen years, a single capital-official post was selling for three thousand taels of silver.
As everyone knows, whenever a court starts selling offices on a grand scale, it's about to go bankrupt — the late Han, the late Qing, the late Ming, all without exception.
While opening the floodgates to sell offices, Chongzhen also continued raising taxes. Historically, the very next year, the Emperor raised the levy on lower-grade fields from nine-tenths of a candareen to one and two-tenths candareens per mu, imposing a quota of over 6.67 million taels, with actual collection of over 5.22 million taels. Adding customs duties, salt levies, and miscellaneous items, the total levied came to 7,408,298 taels.
For every tael of tax the court imposed, the petty officials below would seize the chance to collect at least three taels to line their own pockets; thus was the lifeblood of the Great Ming drained dry, round after round.
The final vile consequence of the Jisi Incident was that it led to the swelling strength of the Shanshan Peasant Army.
Previously, when Chongzhen saw the Later Jin grand army breach the passes, he issued the King Qin Decree.
Upon receiving the decree, Grand Coordinator of Yansui Zhang Mengjing, Grand Coordinator of Shaanxi Liu Guangsheng, Governor-General of the Three Borders of Shaanxi Yang He, Gansu Grand Coordinator Mei Zhihuan, and others promptly drew over ten thousand elite troops from the various border garrisons, with the Regional Commanders of the Five Major Border Garrisons leading their forces to march on the capital for the King's Rescue.
On the road to the capital for the King's Relief Army, the nightmare began.
First, the Ming Dynasty had this regulation: when a guest army arrived at its designated location, the local authorities were not required to issue grain.
After the army of Shanxi Regional Commander Zhang Honggong reached the Jingji Area, the Ministry of War, in a panic, first ordered the force to garrison Tongzhou, then redirected it the next day to Changping, and on the third day ordered it to defend Liangxiang.
This resulted in Zhang Honggong's army going three days without food or water.
By the late Ming, the military system of the various border garrisons was already rotten to the core, with virtually no discipline to speak of. Soldiers had long gone without grain and with their pay in arrears, and were already full of grievances; now, after marching a thousand li for the King's Rescue, they could not even fill their stomachs in the end.
Famished and desperate, the soldiers had no choice but to plunder civilian grain in their garrison areas.
A farcical scene unfolded: the court, citing the failure of Shanxi Regional Commander Zhang Honggong and Grand Coordinator of Shanxi Geng Ruqi to maintain discipline, had the two men arrested and thrown into prison.
The border-army soldiers they had brought then scattered in a hubbub and fled back to Shanxi. After this, the court executed Zhang Honggong and Geng Ruqi, and this entire route of the King's Relief Army was effectively gone.
Separately, on the Yansui route of the King's Relief Army, because Regional Commander Wu Zimian embezzled military grain rations (a very common situation among late Ming border armies), large numbers of soldiers deserted midway and fled back to Yansui.
And the Grand Coordinator of Yansui, Zhang Mengjing, both terrified and enraged by this affair, actually died of distress and fury — another route of the King's Relief Army was gone.
Likewise, because no settlement grain was issued, the Gansu King's Relief Army also mutinied at Anding County: after tensions boiled over, soldier Wang Jincai and others incited the troops to kill the Assistant Regional Commander who tried to stop them, then seized the camp's money and grain and fled back to their old home.
Thus, the several routes of the King's Relief border armies, which had set out with such bluster, all disintegrated and scattered halfway, all because of the court's fiscal problems and corruption.
Most terrifying of all, the majority of these deserters, who possessed military skills, later joined the various peasant armies then rising up in the mountains of Shaanxi: Gao Yingxiang, Wang Jiayin, Zhang Xianzhong, and the already-emerging Li Express Delivery — the deserters became the backbone forces of the various Dashing King Old Camps.
The resulting impact: the border garrisons' crack troops were drained away, and the peasant armies' strength swelled dramatically. Taking the third year of Chongzhen as a dividing line, the various Dashing Kings further consolidated their power and began probing large-scale, wide-ranging marauding across the Ming north.
If, before the Jisi Incident, the Great Ming was still a building with a dilapidated exterior, then after it, that building had lost a load-bearing pillar and become a genuine death trap.
And in this timeline, although the Transmigrators acted promptly to apply patches, the steel bars inside the Ming's crumbling edifice had long since rusted through. Viewed holistically, the collapse was irreversible; the Transmigrators could not salvage the situation.
Or perhaps, the Transmigrators did not actually want to salvage it — without destruction, there can be no construction.
End of Chapter
