Chapter 186: Great Ming National Salvation Task List v2.0!

Before the Gate of Embracing Heaven, a squad of junior eunuchs finished posting the imperial proclamations and withdrew directly.

Beneath the placards, a dense, dark mass of people had long since gathered — among them, officials newly recalled to office were especially numerous.

They had arrived in the capital anywhere from a dozen-odd days to just a few days ago, expecting to plunge at once into the heated currents of court politics, only to find themselves idle men.

His Majesty had indeed issued a decree stating clearly "reinstatement to original office," but times had changed; they had been demoted and banished for years — how could their former posts have remained vacant until now?

This was no longer the Wanli era, when the realm was short of officials everywhere.

Only a fortunate few encountered their original posts vacant and were thus just in time to fill them.

Every last one of the rest was an "additional appointment" Vice Minister, an "additional appointment" Supervising Secretary, an "additional appointment" Censor…

So these men, with time on their hands and nothing to do, either racked their brains writing statecraft memorials or else drafted a few impeachment indictments; of proper business, there was not a single item.

But after this latest grand court assembly, the writing of indictments had abruptly fallen off somewhat, while statecraft memorials had grown more numerous.

The many booksellers outside Zhengyang Gate were making money hand over fist.

It was one thing that the ordinary Collected Statecraft Memorials (Capital New Policies Edition), the Collected Three Daily Lectures, and The Debate over People and Land (with the Latest Charts) were selling very well.

That newly circulating Xue Guoguan's Road-Building Memorial: Collected Revisions (His Majesty's Personally Annotated Edition) was driving people absolutely mad.

This work collected and collated all seven sets of opinions personally endorsed by His Majesty after Xue Guoguan submitted his memorial on road-building, along with every revised version Xue Guoguan produced in response to those opinions.

Because some of His Majesty's language therein was rather blunt, no bookseller dared print it; they could only copy it out by hand.

As a result, the market price was brutally driven up to thirty taels.

Thirty taels! A full year's salary for a rank-seven capital official!

The Great Ming imperial capital, a place where literary culture had long lain desolate, had now gone utterly mad!

Yuan Keli stood at the outer edge of the crowd, his full head of white hair strikingly conspicuous among the throng.

He raised his head and studied the three imperial proclamations with care.

His gaze fell first upon the first placard on the far left, whose heading read — "Task List for the Various New Policies."

This placard was no traditional public notice or sacred edict, but a chart that the people of the capital had gradually grown accustomed to and at ease with.

Yet… it was a chart of unprecedented, immense scale.

(The attached chart basically covers all the policies to be advanced at present, but please do not assume that all of these have been carried out — only a few are complete; the great majority have just been started or merely had an order issued, and the plans may well be revised for another month or two.)

Upon it were clearly listed the names of the various new policies, their responsible ministries and bureaus, the persons in charge, the total number of red marks required, and the number of red marks already applied.

Yuan Keli's eyes moved slowly down the chart.

Inner Palace New Policies, Capital New Policies, Northern Zhili New Policies, Reform of Old Institutions…

Beneath these four broad categories, specific tasks were broken down one by one, like a finely woven net enfolding the entire future course of Great Ming.

Yuan Keli nodded slowly.

This chart method complemented the categorization of the new policies remarkably well, producing — one could not quite say why — a sense of orderly, uniform satisfaction.

The chart was exceedingly long; Yuan Keli looked for a great while before he reached the bottom.

There, a line of small characters read: "This chart was first produced on the third day of the tenth month; hereafter it shall be updated once after each grand court assembly on the third day of every month. Supervised by the Directorate of Ceremonial."

At the sight of the words "Directorate of Ceremonial," Yuan Keli's brow furrowed involuntarily.

Just at that moment, the crowd around him suddenly erupted in a burst of barely suppressed exclamations and commotion.

"Twenty-nine! I've counted them — a full twenty-nine tasks listed!" a young Bureau Secretary in a cyan official robe cried out loudly.

His words instantly drew a retort from a companion: "It's definitely more than that! Didn't you see that the column under Northern Zhili New Policies is blank? It only says 'To be separately listed upon confirmation'! When that time really comes, I fear the number of tasks will multiply fivefold or more!"

"No, no," another man analyzed, wagging his head. "In my view, when the time comes, they'll surely open a separate 'Northern Zhili Task List' specifically for Northern Zhili assignments!"

A Northern Zhili Task List? At these words, the cyan-robed officials stirred with interest.

"How does one get into a Northern Zhili new-policy assignment? As things stand now, in all the prefectures, subprefectures, and counties, there don't seem to be many vacancies, do there?"

"Look over there! The placard on the far right! It's written with the rules and procedures for self-recommendation and registration for the new policies!"

No one knew who shouted that line; the crowd went "boom," and a great mass of cyan and green official robes scrambled and shoved their way toward the far-right imperial proclamation.

In an instant, the space beneath the formerly packed task list loosened considerably.

Watching this scene so full of vitality and eagerness, Yuan Keli's tightly knit brow relaxed of its own accord, and he could not help shaking his head with a rueful laugh.

This court had been stagnant for far too long; now, at last, it had taken on a little of the look of living water.

"Jiehuan Gong, it has been too long."

A mild voice came from behind him.

Yuan Keli turned around; it was none other than Fang Kezhuang.

A slight smile rose unbidden to his face. "So it is Yangchu."

Fang Kezhuang cupped his hands and bowed with deep respect, his eyes full of veneration: "To this day, I still recall that before I set out to serve as Regional Inspector of Southern Zhili, I had the good fortune to converse with you day and night, Jiehuan Gong. Your instruction still rings in my ears."

His work as Judge in Southern Zhili was among the proudest achievements of Yuan Keli's life.

At these words, he could not help stroking his beard with a smile and said, "This old man has also heard of your accomplishments in the salt inspection of the Two Huai; they may indeed be called a sweeping away of the abuses of the day."

Fang Kezhuang smiled. "Had you not, back then, pointed out to me the many entrenched malpractices in Southern Zhili, I would never have been able to go so far."

He smoothly made a gesture of invitation. "Jiehuan Gong, shall we view this second placard together?"

"Please."

The two men walked side by side and came to stand beneath the middle imperial proclamation.

This second placard was titled "New Policies Rewards and Punishments Ranking."

Unlike the complex detail of the first placard, this one was simple and clear to the extreme, divided into only two colors: red and green.

The red list above, the green list below.

On the lists were written only personal names, the reason for adding a red or green mark, and the cumulative number of red or green marks.

The names on the red list were few, but the number of marks noted after each name was, astonishingly, completely identical — all were "one mark."

On the green list, the name of former Grand Secretary Zhang Ruitu stood at the very top, followed by a glaring figure — "ten marks."

Close behind him was Li Jingbai, Governor of Shandong, with a green stripe added.

(Attached image — I didn't expect everyone to get a red stripe either, haha… I still haven't figured out which stock is going to hit the daily limit, so everyone feel free to place your bets. Don't bother betting on Zhang Ruitu — that stock's already been delisted.)

Yuan Keli's gaze drifted downward, and sure enough, at the very bottom of the list he spotted another line of small print, likewise updated once a month.

The two men fell silent for a moment.

Fang Kezhuang spoke first, a trace of emotion in his voice:

"This rather reminds me of Lord Jiangling's 'Performance Review Law.' I've heard that back then, assessments were also conducted once a month — though it seems they never had such a starkly clear distinction between red and green."

Yuan Keli slowly shook his head. "This old man passed the jinshi examination in the seventeenth year of Wanli. By then the Performance Review Law had long since fallen into disuse. As for its specifics, I never experienced them firsthand, so I dare not speak rashly."

The two chatted a while longer, then were about to move on to view the final notice board.

Just at that moment, atop the gate tower of Chengtian Gate, red flags suddenly unfurled and waved, their banners slicing urgent arcs through the air with a sharp, snapping sound.

The officials beneath the notice boards all instinctively raised their heads to look.

A few of the more widely experienced ones quickly recognized what it was and explained to those around them, unconcerned: "Don't be alarmed. This is merely the routine trial operation of the 'Thousand-Li Lightning Signal Station' — nothing of great importance."

"Indeed, indeed," someone chimed in. "This thing drills several dozen times every day. Nothing special about it."

Everyone understood, and soon their attention was once again fixed upon the imperial notice boards.

After all, under the New Policies, a Provincial Administration Commissioner was of the upper second rank, a Prefect of the principal fourth rank, a Subprefectural Magistrate of the lower fifth rank, and a County Magistrate of the principal seventh rank…

These tangible, visible rungs of the promotion ladder, from high to low, with something to suit every ambition — how could any of that be less interesting than those signal-flag semaphores they had long since grown tired of watching?

This time, however, something seemed different.

No one noticed that today, this "Thousand-Li Lightning Signal Station" had, in the brief span of a single stick of incense, waved the red flags three times in succession.

And… each time more urgent than the last.