Chapter 140: The Great Affairs of State Lie in Sacrifice and War

The wind carried a bleak, killing chill, stirring the long white mourning banners hanging beneath the eaves of the palace halls.

Dressed in heavy, pure-white mourning robes, Zhu Youjian stood silently outside the Hall of the Spirit Table.

This was the first time since his enthronement that he had missed the morning inspection of the Valiant Guard Camp.

Because today, he was to support the coffin and escort the funeral procession for his elder brother, the Tianqi Emperor, Zhu Youjiao.

The elaborate and interminable funeral procession ceremony formally began amidst solemnity.

The first step was the Commencement Offering.

The shrill voice of the Inner Usher echoed through the silent halls, every word steeped in formulaic grief.

Zhu Youjian followed the guidance and walked to the worship position. Behind him stood the Duke of Ying, Zhang Weixian, the Marquis of Baoding, Liang Shixun, and a host of other nobles and imperial relatives, all likewise dressed in mourning robes, heads bowed in solemn silence.

"Perform the four prostrations—"

Zhu Youjian moved at the sound, meticulously bowing and touching his forehead to the ground, his movements impeccably standard.

"Present the silk—"

"Offer the wine—"

"Read the eulogy—"

He watched the inner attendants present the ceremonial silk and wine goblets, listened to the Eulogy Officer intone the panegyric in cadenced rhythm, and felt a vast emptiness within.

His expression was sorrowful, the rims of his eyes reddened; every detail perfectly matched the image of a younger brother grieving as he bid farewell to his elder brother.

He saw among the assembled officials below that some wept genuine tears, some wore numb expressions, and some, beneath lowered eyelids, concealed thoughts no one could discern.

"Raise the lament—"

At the Master of Ceremonies' command, stifled sobs instantly filled the entire great hall.

"Cease the lament—"

The weeping stopped abruptly, perfectly controlled.

The Commencement Offering concluded, the functionaries filed in, swiftly removed the curtains and offerings, and wiped down the enormous catalpa coffin.

Outside the hall, the even larger dragon hearse, like a silent behemoth, was slowly pushed to the foot of the vermilion steps.

Next came the second sacrifice, the Departure Offering.

The entire procedure was as before.

When the rites ended, an inner attendant strode quickly before the catalpa coffin, fell to his knees with a crash, and loudly petitioned:

"Request the spirit carriage to set forth!"

His voice reverberated through the halls.

Other inner attendants carefully carried the posthumous title tablets, the imperial seals, the spirit silk, the inscribed funeral banner, and other items symbolizing the Tianqi Emperor's posthumous honors, exiting through the main gate of the great hall and placing each item into its respective carriage.

Everything was ready.

The functionary officers took a deep breath and together slowly lifted the heavy catalpa coffin.

Inner attendants holding enormous feathered fans flanked it on both sides, shielding the coffin like wings as they escorted it step by step down the stairs.

Another inner attendant knelt before the dragon hearse and loudly petitioned: "Request the catalpa coffin to ascend the dragon hearse!"

The catalpa coffin was securely placed upon the dragon hearse and covered with a magnificent colored canopy.

Leading the empress, consorts, and palace women, Zhu Youjian followed behind the dragon hearse, passing silently through one palace gate after another, finally stopping within the Meridian Gate.

This was the boundary between the imperial palace and the outside world, and also the place of his final farewell to Zhu Youjiao — the previous master of this Forbidden City.

Within the palace gate, the third sacrifice of the day was held, and the last sacrifice within the palace — the Farewell Offering.

The entire procedure was as before.

When the rites ended, Zhu Youjian straightened up, faced that heavy, magnificent coffin that bore the end of an era one last time, and bowed deeply.

When he straightened up again, his face was already covered in tears.

He looked at Huang Liji, Shi Fenglai, Li Guopu, and the other twenty-four coffin-bearing ministers waiting beyond the Meridian Gate, his voice hoarse, carrying a perfectly measured choke.

"My imperial brother… I entrust him to you, my ministers."

Huang Liji led the assembled ministers in kneeling, crying out like a mountain echo: "Your Majesty, restrain your grief. Your subjects shall not fail this trust!"

Zhu Youjian said no more, only stood where he was, watching in silence.

An inner attendant, following protocol, requested: "Your Majesty, please return to the palace."

Zhu Youjian ignored him, just watching in silence.

The dragon hearse began to move. The enormous carriage, surrounded by hundreds of attendants, ponderously and slowly passed through the Meridian Gate, merging into that white sea formed by civil and military officials and the guardsmen of the Imperial Guard.

Thousands of encircling guards would line the route from here all the way to the Great Ming Gate, then turn from within the city toward the Desheng Gate, and finally proceed to the Thirteen Tombs north of the capital.

Spirit paper money swirled in the air, wailing shook the heavens. The residents of the capital, clad in sackcloth and mourning bands, knelt in unison along both sides of the road, their lamentations filling the countryside.

The bells of temples throughout the capital tolled in succession, their booming unceasing.

Zhu Youjian stood there until that vast procession completely vanished from the edge of his vision.

The look of sorrow still lingered on his face, but in his eyes remained only an abyss-like calm.

Zhu Youjian cast one last glance toward the direction the dragon hearse had gone, abruptly swept his sleeve, turned, and returned to the palace.

Qianqing Palace.

Zhu Youjian sat alone behind the imperial desk, lost in a moment of dazed stillness.

From this day forward, this vast and empty Forbidden City truly held only one Emperor.

And he, under the reign title "Yongchang," would guide this ancient dynasty as it stumbled forward.

His guidance would begin from this Qianqing Palace, from these memorials before his eyes.

These memorials would fly like snowflakes to every prefecture, subprefecture, and county under heaven.

Across that vast land, civil officials at every level of the Great Ming would carry out, distort, neglect, and even exploit his orders…

And the merit and blame, the rise and fall, the survival or ruin of all under heaven, would ultimately rest upon him alone.

Such is the fate of an emperor — it has always been so.

Zhu Youjian shook his head lightly, cast that tangle of stray thoughts from his mind, drew a deep breath, and said in a grave voice:

"Companion Gao, bring up today's memorials."

Gao Shiming bowed in acknowledgment. Before long, the first top-priority memorial was presented before the throne.

Memorial on the Investigation of the Shandong Flood Disaster — Jin Lan, Censor of the Shandong Circuit

Zhu Youjian opened the memorial and began reading it carefully.

Jin Lan wrote in his memorial that upon reaching Shandong he dared not be remiss, touring every area without pause. So far he had only inspected the vicinity of Jinan Prefecture, and what he had seen was appalling.

Since the sixth month, days of unrelenting rain had caused the rivers along their banks to swell violently, submerging farmland and washing away houses.

Fortunately, by the time the torrential rains struck, the wheat had already been stored in granaries, so the people were not left utterly without grain.

However, the summer-planted beans and the spring-planted cotton were all soaked by the floodwaters — not a single grain was harvested.

The Grand Secretariat's draft rescript was simple: Jinan Prefecture could be exempted from fifty percent of next year's summer tax, with the remainder commuted to silver payments; the exempted portion would be spread evenly among the other unaffected prefectures and counties to make up the shortfall.

"So it wasn't the staple grain that was flooded…"

Zhu Youjian, who in his previous life had never farmed a day, could not help rubbing his face.

He silently resolved that agricultural knowledge absolutely must be incorporated into next month's study plan.

High-yield crops like potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn he certainly needed to understand.

But he also had to get a clear grasp of the Ming dynasty's mainstream crops.

Cotton, hemp, beans, wheat, rice — when each was sown, when each was harvested, and what the per-mu yields were — all of this was essential common knowledge.

Otherwise, he, a man from a later age, might very well commit the error of asking why the starving did not simply eat meat.

Later, he would have the Directorate of Ceremonial compile a nationwide table of farming seasons, and then find a few genuine old farmers to serve as his teachers.

Then he would personally work a plot of land within the palace grounds — which could conveniently be developed later into an experimental field and an agricultural academy.

Though he did wonder — had Tianqi or Chongzhen ever tilled the soil with their own hands?

Surely… they must have? With the realm in such a state, they would have studied diligently, wouldn't they?

Zhu Youjian shook his head and continued reading.

In the memorial's latter half, the brush-stroke suddenly shifted, and it began enumerating the ten great crimes of Li Jingbai, the Governor of Shandong.

First, incompetence in office and sluggish disaster relief. Second, empty government granaries with no grain available for distribution. Third, corruption and bribe-taking, shielding the gentry from tax evasion while shifting the burden onto the common people…

Zhu Youjian's brow furrowed deeply.

Absolutely classic. Was this not the most familiar plotline from those later Qing court dramas?

A great local disaster, officials concealing the truth, an imperial commissioner dispatched to investigate, the dark curtain torn open, the Emperor's dragon countenance ablaze with fury, the heads of corrupt officials rolling to the ground, and the common people weeping with gratitude.

Ah, no — for a Qing court drama, the Emperor would have to tour the realm incognito.

Without the Emperor personally touring, there would not be enough gratification points — you could not even make a television drama out of it.

Still…

Now that Jin Lan had handed him this ladder, should he climb it and stage a little "fury"?

Zhu Youjian pondered for a moment, then closed the memorial, handed it to Gao Shiming, and in a flat tone issued a string of commands:

"Issue an edict to Censor Jin Lan, promoting him to Regional Inspector of Shandong, with a special commission to investigate the case of Li Jingbai."

"Send him all the current statecraft documents. Have him report in the statecraft style — no more of this vagueness."

"Have Tian Ergeng select two banners of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. One banner is to be placed at Jin Lan's disposal; the other is to conduct its own independent investigation and report directly to us."

"Convey our verbal decree to Li Jingbai, Governor of Shandong: he is to submit a memorial in self-defense, while at the same time diligently carrying out disaster relief, urgently arranging replanting, and minimizing the losses."

"Finally, grant them radio authorization. Once the capital–Dengzhou line opens next month, have the results reported up via radio."

Gao Shiming committed each item to memory, bowed, and accepted the orders.

Zhu Youjian let out a quiet sigh.

He did not trust Li Jingbai — but as for this Jin Lan, could he fully trust him either?

Even Lu Xiangsheng had his own master-disciple ties and native-place loyalties, did he not?

Only by letting them snap at each other could he glimpse more of the truth.

He picked up the second memorial and was just about to open it when something suddenly struck him as amiss.

He shot to his feet, snatched back Jin Lan's memorial, and opened it again.

His gaze roamed for a moment, then finally fixed upon those eight characters: "caused the rivers along their banks to swell violently."

Along their banks?

The banks of what? What river?

"Companion Gao!" Zhu Youjian looked up, his eyes sharp. "Bring the memorial Li Jingbai previously submitted reporting the disaster! And find us a map of Shandong as well!"

Very soon, both the map and the memorial were delivered.

Li Jingbai's original report had listed over thirty prefectures and counties, merely stating that torrential rains had fallen continuously, submerging countless areas.

At the time, Zhu Youjian had disliked this sprawling, enumerative style of writing, but he had not thought much of it, simply assuming that all Ming men were of this tiresome sort.

But Jin Lan's two words — "along their banks" — struck like a bolt of lightning, cleaving through the fog.

Zhu Youjian picked up the vermilion brush and began marking the map.

Licheng, Changqiu, Changqing, Qidong, Jiyang, Qihe…

One disaster-stricken location after another was marked, and their distribution traced, astonishingly, a clear and distinct line!

And beside this line lay a winding river.

(See attached: Distribution of Shandong Flood Disaster Sites)

"What is the name of this river?" Zhu Youjian asked, pointing at the map.

Gao Shiming leaned in for a closer look, then cupped his hands and replied, "Your Majesty, this river is called the Daqing River."

"After the great river passes Kaifeng, it splits into two channels — one enters the Huai, and the other enters the sea from this river here."

"For that reason, the Daqing River accumulates heavy silt, its bed is very high, and flooding is indeed frequent."

Zhu Youjian furrowed his brow.

Was this an inadvertent oversight...

Or a deliberate concealment?

Did they not want to manage the river? Or did they simply not consider river management an important matter?

Neither Jin Lan nor Li Jingbai had mentioned this?

And, more importantly, his memories of the late Ming included the great Shaanxi drought, but he recalled nothing of any major Shandong flood.

Could it be that it was never a serious problem?

For a moment, Zhu Youjian half suspected he was being overly paranoid.

Stroking his chin, he began searching through the mind for memories belonging to the Chongzhen Emperor.

Very well... a complete blank. His predecessor had no idea about this either.

His predecessor did, however, know about something else.

Zhu Youjian opened his mouth and asked,

"Does the Yongding River in the capital region also flood frequently?"

"It does, Your Majesty," Gao Shiming replied. "Dredging of the Yongding River has been inadequate. Whenever spring and summer bring heavy rain, it overflows and causes disaster."

Zhu Youjian nodded, understanding in his heart.

— Fine. The geography of the realm, river courses, and water conservancy engineering will have to be added to the study curriculum.

The Daily Lecture, the Daily Lecture — why do you never lecture on these things?

If you lectured on these, I would certainly attend obediently!

Zhu Youjian handed the memorial back and regained his composure. "It is nothing. Draft the edict as I instructed just now."

Though puzzled, Gao Shiming dared not ask further and left to carry out the order.

The next several matters were far less complex, yet their importance was no less — if anything, greater.

Memorial requesting retirement — Shi Fenglai

Shi Fenglai, Second Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat, wished to retire.

His memorial stated that he was old and frail, his eyesight dim, and even cited the example that Jin Lan's memorial had arrived on the seventeenth of the ninth month, but after reviewing it he had forgotten to report it and only remembered today.

Zhu Youjian gave a cold laugh.

Trying to jump ship, was he? And afraid of repeating Zhang Ruitu's fate of being impeached and dismissed, so he deliberately offered up a pretext?

Was it because he saw the Donglin men about to enter the capital and did not want to be purged while bearing the label of "eunuch faction," or had these past days of his own actions made this old fox scent danger, prompting him to seek self-preservation?

So be it.

A sixty-four-year-old man — it was time for a change anyway.

"Companion Gao, draft some polite formalities and just run through the three-offers-three-refusals procedure," Zhu Youjian said flatly.

Memorial requesting troop redeployment to Datong — Sun Chengzong

This was a secret memorial sent from Tongzhou.

Zhu Youjian's heart skipped a beat.

He quickly unfolded it. Sun Chengzong's handwriting was bold and forceful.

Six thousand cavalry had finished assembling at Tongzhou, and guides from friendly tribes beyond the passes had also been found.

The latest military intelligence: the Beile's forces had already gathered at Xianning Lake. The various right-wing Mongol tribes were responding one after another, and many of the thirty-six Duoyan clans were also taking part.

The various tribes were in high spirits, prepared to fight a decisive battle to the death against the aggressive Ligdan Khan.

At the same time, they had also discreetly and somewhat humbly conveyed, through military officers beyond the passes, a desire for Ming forces to join this fight.

Sun Chengzong requested that these six thousand cavalry be immediately redeployed to Datong to await the moment of opportunity.

Meanwhile, he himself would soon depart for Shanhai Pass. Henceforth, matters in the lands south of the Gobi would be reported directly to the Emperor in secret by Regional Commander Ma Shilong.

Zhu Youjian drew a deep breath, doing his utmost to calm himself.

The great affairs of state lie in war and sacrifice — and today he had encountered both at once.

Was it coincidence, or the Mandate of Heaven?

He turned his head and said to Gao Shiming, "Issue the order at once! Have Tian Ergeng prioritize laying the telegraph line to Datong. Spare no cost, spare no manpower. Do not survey for the optimal route — proceed on multiple paths simultaneously. Even some redundancy is not to be feared."

"As commanded!"

Gao Shiming had keenly detected the Emperor's anxiety and dared not delay. He turned at once to instruct the junior eunuchs.

The memorials were soon dealt with. Zhu Youjian stretched and looked toward Wang Tiqian, who had been standing in attendance the whole time.

"What is the situation?"

Wang Tiqian now stepped forward and bowed in reply:

"In reply to Your Majesty, among the officers who sat the examination yesterday, roughly one in four sent men out with letters after leaving the palace — all bound for the nine border garrisons."

Zhu Youjian nodded, his face expressionless. "I am aware."

Loyalty was never something that could be bought with a few empty promises.

It required sustained positive incentives and precise negative punishments.

During the Wanli Emperor's three great campaigns, ennoblements had been promised to all — yet in the end, none were granted.

The Tianqi Emperor's offer of ennoblement for success in the Liaodong campaign was still hanging there unredeemed.

Yesterday's promise of ducal and marquisate rewards had merely leveraged the added weight of an imperial audience to provide a spur.

To make the entire realm truly go mad for it, he would still have to employ further measures.

So the fact that only one in four had chosen to notify their original commanding generals was, in fact, far lower than he had expected.

Wang Tiqian continued, "Yesterday, the Shandong Guild Hall and the Shanxi Guild Hall each held welcome-back banquets, with several dozen attendees apiece — both officials recalled to the capital and those currently in office were present."

He handed over a slip of paper. "This is the list of the principal officials who attended."

Zhu Youjian took it and swept his eyes briefly over it.

Shanxi natives: Han Kuang, Sun Chuanting…

Shandong natives: Liu Hongxun, Bi Ziyan, Guo Yunhou, Xue Fengxiang…

His face remained utterly impassive. "We are aware."

Native place, master-disciple ties, shared interests, kin and friends — there are as many ways for men to form bonds as there are ways to form factions.

This was perfectly normal.

Wang Tiqian went on, "As for the ennobled houses, the Marquis of Baoding yesterday threw a grand banquet under the pretext of his mother's birthday, but… the response was sparse."

The corner of Zhu Youjian's eye twitched almost imperceptibly. Still, he said, "We are aware."

Liang Shixun, Marquis of Baoding, commanded the Capital Camps.

His holding a birthday banquet was perfectly normal. What was abnormal was that no one came!

Where had these people gotten their information?

From the palace? Had Huo Weihua and his associates been careless? Or had they guessed on their own?

In that case, had they learned of the Capital Camps affair…

Or had they also learned of his plan to reorganize the Northern Metropolitan Region?

"Everything else remains as usual," Wang Tiqian concluded.

Zhu Youjian clapped him on the shoulder. "Well done. Keep watching."

Then he turned to Gao Shiming. "Has word been sent out for tomorrow's Daily Lecture?"

Gao Shiming nodded. "In reply to Your Majesty, the Nine Ministers of the Six Ministries, the Vice Ministers of each ministry, the Supervising Secretaries of the Six Offices of Scrutiny, the full staff of the Hanlin Academy, and the ennobled houses in the capital have all been notified. Officials recalled to service who previously held rank of the fourth grade or above are to attend the lecture at Huangji Hall tomorrow."

Zhu Youjian's gaze grew distant and shadowed. He said nothing more.

— The Daily Lecture, the Daily Lecture. Since none of you know how to give one, then let Us give it!