Chapter 337: The Fear in Zhu Youjian's Heart (8700 Characters ~ With a Later-Era Easter Egg)

Every word and deed of the Emperor would be endlessly scrutinized and interpreted by those with an agenda.

Wenhua Hall, once an informal palace where emperors summoned ministers and debated state affairs, had gradually become the dedicated venue for "study sessions." Wuying Hall, on the other hand, had transformed from the workplace of court painters into the dedicated venue for final presentations and voting on major projects.

To those with an agenda, this revealed far too many political signals.

A hint of a martial ethos?

A declaration of opening a new world?

Or perhaps it represented some covert process of the Grand Secretariat's power being ceded to the Emperor?

These were all speculations that found considerable audiences within the official circles of the capital.

Yes, the officials of the Great Ming were not fools.

Most could see that the Emperor was gradually hollowing out the Grand Secretariat, using the Secretariat and the New Policies projects to draw power back into his own hands — and doing so directly, without the filter of the Eastern Depot or the Directorate of Ceremonial.

And what the Emperor relied upon were precisely the ancestral institutions, the boundless energy of an eighteen-year-old youth, and his unending moral narrative.

It was just that... being able to perceive it did not necessarily mean being able to oppose it effectively.

Among the several Grand Secretaries, Huang Liji was slick and devoted to papering over cracks, never a man of steely resolve.

Li Guopu was bound up in the Emperor's story and had already grown so giddy with success that he had lost all sense of where he stood.

As for Li Banghua and Zheng Sanjun, the two had only recently entered the Grand Secretariat — one might even say they were elevated into it — and were in no position to voice opposition.

The high officials of the ministries were enjoying the expansion of administrative authority that came with the project system and the weakening of the Grand Secretariat.

The young men of the Secretariat were charging into the fray, following the baton of the Emperor's command.

These two groups, naturally, would not find fault either.

Only the officials of the remonstrance circuits, who took the realm as their own burden yet were now shut out of the New Policies' inner circle, attempted to raise some voices of protest. But... it was utterly useless.

And after the eleventh month, as the function of Wuying Hall became fixed,

the Emperor had the Renzhi Hall behind Wuying Hall cleared out and prepared as a dedicated venue for summoning ministers on a large scale — which sparked a new round of speculation.

Renzhi Hall was also known as the White Tiger Hall.

So what was this choice hinting at? The White Tiger governs killing and warfare — was this meant to sweep clean the court discipline? Or to purge the public morals?

Fortunately, Zhu Youjian was as yet unaware of this undercurrent, or he would certainly have been torn between laughter and tears.

Was there not a possibility...

that We chose these two halls simply because they are closest to the Western Park?

Is commuting distance not the most important consideration for a working man!

After all, We are now someone who can freely decide where to go to work.

Only, Zhu Youjian did not know.

That in another time and space, another Yongchang Emperor had in fact ascended the throne and been crowned right here in Wuying Hall.

In the unseen workings of fate, it may not be entirely without heaven's design.

Inside Renzhi Hall, after the formalities between sovereign and minister, each took their seat.

"Your Majesty, this subject requests to present the Shaanxi strategy."

Liu Zongzhou straightened himself and spoke.

No... at work one should use the official title.

Then let us do it over again.

Liu Zongzhou:

Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, and Right Deputy Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate;

Governor-General of the Three Border Regions Military Affairs of Shaanxi, concurrently managing provisions, pay, salt, horses, princely estates, military guards, disaster relief, famine preparedness, and all related miscellaneous duties;

Imperially bestowed with the King's Command Banner and Plaque and the Imperial Sword, granted the authority to act at his discretion and to establish his own command staff, and vested with full overall responsibility for the local preparations of the Shaanxi New Policies. The above, totaling eighty-nine characters.

This was precisely why the Provincial Administration Commissioner selection examination had to be upgraded to a Governor-General selection examination.

The difference in the scope of authority between the two was simply too vast.

As for why it was Liu Zongzhou?

On one hand, the top-tier talents Zhu Youjian could remember and dig up were all currently deployed within the New Policies.

Compared to Shaanxi, which might stir up earth-shaking waves, this Northern Metropolitan Region, or perhaps extending slightly into the three neighboring provinces of Shanxi, Shandong, and Henan — this was his very foundation, and his ultimate fallback.

On the other hand, after much deliberation, Zhu Youjian felt that what the man in charge of Shaanxi needed most was neither astonishing talent nor an intensely aggressive drive for advancement.

What he needed was sufficient compassion for the common people, and sufficient transparency toward the throne.

The former goes without saying.

In a situation where Shaanxi had not yet completely festered and truly ignited a single spark, a man in charge who upheld the traditional Confucian view of loving the people was absolutely far better than a ruthless official hungry for quick results.

In a place like Shaanxi, Zhu Youjian would far rather his thinking leaned toward the populace than toward the government offices.

As for the latter, Zhu Youjian needed a candidate who could genuinely and truthfully feed back the situation in Shaanxi.

Only in this way, relying on the telegraph system, could he provide faster policy support, official appointments and dismissals, fund allocation, and strategic decisions.

You say we need tax exemptions?

Good! No problem!

Where to exempt, where not to exempt, and what is the total amount to be exempted? Report it at once!

You report it, and We will trust you, directly approving it by telegraph, and then investigate it thoroughly at leisure afterward.

You say this official is corrupt? Derelict in his duty?

Good! No problem!

The Ministry of Personnel will begin selecting a replacement today, and tomorrow We will have him race out of the capital on fast horses to take over the post.

As for whether the corruption or dereliction is real, that too can be investigated slowly later.

You say you need grain and funds for relief?

Then there's even less of a problem!

The reason I've been breaking my back to raise money is precisely to spend it on this undertaking of yours!

Small grain shipments can be purchased and transported from the nearer provinces of Huguang, Henan, and Shanxi first, but the large-scale shipments will require thoroughly restructuring the entire kaizhong salt certificate supply chain. Yet the prerequisite for all this rapid support and rapid response is one thing — truth.

And this, precisely, is what gives Zhu Youjian the greatest headache, and what he fears most.

Shaanxi is simply too far away!

Even with the support of the telegraph system, it can only enable the rapid transmission of "information on paper."

And how much "truth" that "paper" actually contains depends entirely on the moral caliber of the imperial commissioner.

Therefore, love for the people and sincerity — these were the most critical criteria Zhu Youjian ultimately settled on for selecting the Governor-General of Shaanxi.

Of course, this is not to say that Liu Zongzhou had nothing else to offer beyond these two points.

His ability, his character, even his scholarship, his reputation — these were all key reasons he prevailed in this contest. Ability and character aside, his scholarship alone would allow him to effectively harness the strength of local government students, and his reputation would likewise allow him to effectively mobilize the power of the local gentry. In a Confucian society, the "worthy minister" appeal often still works.

Zhu Youjian drew a deep breath, doing his utmost to suppress the faint panic rising in his heart at the sense that history was slipping beyond his control.

"Proceed."

Liu Zongzhou cupped his hands in salute and began his earnest presentation.

This was not a comprehensive project report, but rather the imperial commissioner team's final confirmation with the Emperor before departing the capital.

So no time was wasted setting up any screen presentation.

He simply stood where he was and laid out in measured tones the plan that had been hammered out over these months of cross-cutting meetings.

"To govern Shaanxi, one must first identify Shaanxi's ills."

"The entire Shaanxi team held multiple joint discussions beforehand and ultimately determined the priority ranking of Shaanxi's current ills. From highest to lowest, the top five are: military garrisons, officials, powerful magnates, water conservancy, and princely estates."

"And earlier this month, the results of the questionnaires collected from Shaanxi-native juren have just been tabulated."

"Three hundred and seventy-eight in total. Excluding twelve that were rambling screeds not completed according to format, there are three hundred and sixty-six valid questionnaires." "After categorization, cleaning, and consolidation, the various current ills, ranked from highest to lowest, are as follows."

"Military garrisons, 87.23."

"Oppressive taxation, 73.08."

"Officials, 62.63." "Princely estates, 35.52."

"Water conservancy, 31.22."

"Banditry, 25.34."

"Powerful magnates, 21.33."

The so-called questionnaires were distributed under the aegis of the Ministry of Rites to the more than six thousand juren who had come to the capital to sit the examinations.

Each person was to write down, within three days, the most important current ills of their native place, then enter the voting hall by number badge and submit their response personally. The Ministry of Rites was responsible for formatting and cleaning the data, then forwarding the results to the various provincial governor-general and governor candidates, while retaining a copy for the archives in the Secretariat.

Liu Zongzhou paused, then continued: "Although the two rankings differ, after further internal discussion we have decided to maintain the original priority order unchanged." Zhu Youjian waved his hand: "I have already read the explanation of the priorities. I concur with the Shaanxi team's judgment. No need to elaborate — continue." This was the difference between the official perspective and the scholar-official perspective.

The main discrepancy between the two lay in the juren ranking oppressive taxation second and pushing princely estates down to fourth.

For no other reason than that these were the forces that concretely and tangibly oppressed them.

Whereas the powerful magnates, with whom the juren themselves were closely connected, were instead pushed to the very bottom of the list of current ills.

But this could not be considered entirely bad news.

That a full 21.33 percent of people were willing, in an anonymous questionnaire, to betray their own class — this already moved Zhu Youjian deeply. Although the greater likelihood was that this portion of juren had not yet become powerful magnates, or had only just become them and had not yet adjusted to the identity. The official Shaanxi ranking that Liu Zongzhou spoke of, however, was based more on "which ills need to be resolved with higher priority, and which will yield greater benefit once resolved."

From this overall perspective, oppressive taxation (the new surtax) was naturally pushed down, while the two matters of powerful magnates and water conservancy were elevated. One official, one civilian — their perspectives were naturally not identical.

Liu Zongzhou continued his presentation.

"The people of the Qin land are already utterly destitute, and their accumulated grievances run deep. If chaos breaks out under Heaven, it will surely begin in Shaanxi. The dialogue Your Majesty held with Secretary Sun at the grand assembly was indeed an insight that pierced the trends of the age."

"Therefore, after repeated deliberations, we have concluded that the fundamental strategy for governing Shaanxi is precisely this: 'Purge corrupt governance and grant the people rest and respite.'"

"And among the many corrupt practices, the military garrisons are the foremost—"

"Shaanxi's three border commands and five garrisons are where the greatest drain on fiscal resources lies, and also the very thing one would rely upon should chaos erupt. They are naturally the weightiest priority."

"Once we take up our posts, we shall begin with Yansui Garrison..."

"This place borders the Tumed tribe..."

"Then we shall proceed to... the three guards of Xi'an... the very heartland..."

Liu Zongzhou's voice continued, but Zhu Youjian's thoughts had already begun to drift.

He had read through this material over and over, countless times; it was already engraved in his memory.

Coming here today was, in truth, merely going through the motions — a final opportunity to give a few parting words of instruction.

Whether he listened or not made no real difference.

After all... when it comes to governing Shaanxi, could there truly be some ingenious method dropped from the heavens?

When all is said and done, it really comes down to those same old well-worn measures.

The crux of the matter has never lain in the method, but in the man!

Zhu Youjian's gaze swept past Liu Zongzhou's face and settled on the person behind him.

The former Governor of Liaodong who had just been supplanted by Yuan Chonghuan — Wang Zhichen.

This was the man in the Shaanxi team responsible for clearing up the inflated troop rolls and embezzled pay.

First, he had experience in the Liaodong border garrisons — his expertise matched the task.

Second, during this period back in the capital awaiting reassignment, he had been heavily impeached, and was in precisely the frame of mind to redeem himself through meritorious service.

Third, he belonged to the old eunuch faction and was at odds with Liu Zongzhou, which would provide a certain degree of reinforcement for the transparency of information coming out of Shaanxi.

Fourth, he was a native of Tongguan Guard in Shaanxi and of military household origin — he could not be more perfectly suited to clean up Shaanxi's military agricultural colonies.

Liu Zongzhou's voice continued:

"And the ill of 'officials' is not merely corruption, but even more so incompetence, mediocrity, and unfilled vacancies."

"Shaanxi is remote, and frequently raided by border barbarians. It has always been regarded by those seeking advancement or wealth as a perilous path to be dreaded."

"Aside from a few major counties, most county magistrates elsewhere are not examination-degree holders."

"Assistant magistrates are even more likely to be elderly tribute students — either men who spent years grinding out a tribute appointment, or those who borrowed heavily in the capital to bribe their way into office."

"Not only that, many places even have long-standing vacancies..."

"To cure this ill, the first step is to speak with the Ministry of Personnel: we must broaden the selection process and fill the ranks..."

"Once they take up their posts, begin by purging a batch of the past corrupt and cruel, then slowly set things right..."

"The second step... government students... the new jinshi..."

Yes... Shaanxi is different from the other provinces.

Elsewhere there are too many officials; in Shaanxi there are too few, and they are too poor in quality.

Apart from the core, most fertile Wei River basin, and Huamachi with its salt-trade profits, everywhere else gets only the inferior officials.

By inferior, I mean without talent, without ambition, without connections, without prospects.

Next year's new jinshi, after their training, could be dispatched... assigned in greater numbers to that region.

Zhu Youjian followed Liu Zongzhou's words in his mind, his gaze shifting to another man.

Right Vice-Director of the Court of Judicial Review, Liu Tingxuan.

This was the man tasked with rectifying local official discipline.

First, in the third year of Tianqi he had served as Regional Inspector in Shaanxi and knew the local conditions.

At the very least... he was thoroughly familiar with the local bribery rates and methods, and was willing to explain them candidly to His Majesty.

That alone was already excellent.

Second, his fellow-townsman Zhang Guorui was the current Provincial Administration Commissioner of Shaanxi, which would aid his work.

Third, judging by the "government-student new policies" case reported from Leting County, this man seemed to have mobilized his entire clan to fully support the new policies. Yet the fact that he threw himself in so completely, while staying utterly silent during the early phase of the new policies and only committing wholeheartedly several months later, was genuinely puzzling. Perhaps he was watching and waiting in the early stage... that would be understandable.

But daring to place a bet is still worthy of encouragement.

"As for the evil of the powerful magnates, it lies in concealing landholdings, fraudulent transfers and parcel-splitting, so that the dynasty's tax revenues fall into arrears and the common people are left impoverished and powerless."

"Henceforth, in any prefecture where there is no disaster, drought, or flood, yet the taxes still cannot be collected in full, then within that prefecture pursue the wealthiest household first; within a county, squeeze its local strongmen. They must be made to understand the grace and might of the court..."

Hearing this, Zhu Youjian could not help but snap back to attention and glance at Liu Zongzhou.

..."Where there is no disaster" — Old Liu, those are dangerous words.

The moment you say that, I have a feeling not a single drop of rain will fall on Shaanxi this year...

Zhu Youjian grumbled inwardly and shifted his gaze to the next person in the Shaanxi group.

A white-haired old man — Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, Governor-General of the River Channels, Nan Juyi, a native of Weinan County, Shaanxi.

This was the man in the Shaanxi group responsible for water conservancy.

But that was only a front.

Shaanxi's water conservancy is not complicated — nothing more than storing water, channeling water, and digging plenty of wells, far simpler than in Henan, Shandong, or Northern Zhili.

In those three regions, water conservancy is not just water conservancy; it is bound up with the grain-transport system, tangled and complex.

Besides, the old man was already sixty-two this year; Zhu Youjian did not expect him to give off much light or heat.

What the Emperor had his eye on was the substantial official's purse the old man had accumulated over a career of provincial postings.

If Shaanxi truly suffered a drought, this smiling old fellow would be the perfect entry point for leading the local gentry and wealthy households in donating grain and funds.

"On the matter of water conservancy... there is only... the gas-well device... we..."

Liu Zongzhou's report continued.

But to Zhu Youjian's ears, it had become barely audible.

The next person was Supervising Secretary of the Office of Military Scrutiny Liu Mao, a native of Lintong County, Shaanxi.

This was the man in the Shaanxi group responsible for reorganizing the postal relay stations.

This man had been thrusting himself into Zhu Youjian's presence since the eleventh month of last year, submitting memorial after memorial on abolishing the relay stations. Zhu Youjian shelved, ignored, and delayed, yet nothing could stop his brimming enthusiasm.

Yet as he kept blocking him... Zhu Youjian suddenly had a dawning realization...

Damn, isn't this the very fellow who, historically, drove Li Zicheng to rebellion?!

Zhu Youjian thought it over and simply kicked him out of the capital, tossing him into Shaanxi to overhaul the relay stations.

Dressing it up in fine words: letting him first bring benefit to his home region.

In fact, it genuinely was bringing benefit to his home region — because this relay-station overhaul project would not abolish anything, only "lighten the burden."

Every burden that should never have been piled onto the relay station runners would be swept away and abolished, thereby easing the suffering of every relay runner in Shaanxi.

So long as this measure could suppress some Wang Zicheng or Ma Zicheng by thirty percent, it would be worth Old Liu's salary. Next... and the next.

Zhu Youjian's gaze swept across the faces of each minister in the hall.

Zhou Yanru, member of the Secretariat's Shaanxi group, currently dispatched to Shaanxi for a half-year term.

After dealing with this man for a while, Zhu Youjian had grasped his character.

In the workplaces of later ages, there was a certain type of person he closely resembled.

This type channels every ambition for promotion into "keeping the boss happy."

Every judgment of right and wrong, every decision, revolves around the boss's preferences.

It is not that such people are useless, but against this era's backdrop and the demands of the new policies, they can never be counted as top-tier.

Unable to see his true colors clearly for the moment, Zhu Youjian simply tossed him into Shaanxi to test him out.

Wu Sheng, Investigating Censor.

Previously served successive terms as county magistrate, with a solid record in suppressing local strongmen, disaster relief and famine preparedness, and opening up wasteland and military farmland.

This man was nothing special, nor was he any historical figure Zhu Youjian remembered.

But he had entered through the regular evaluation process, his abilities in all respects were adequate, so he was naturally given a regular appointment.

Xu Yunzhen, heir of the Duke of Ding, Secretariat intern.

He brought along the other three or four interns of noble background to assist Liu Zongzhou.

In reality, Zhu Youjian planned, when the moment was right, to use them to attempt dialogue with the four princely feudatories in Qin.

Entrusting such words to Liu Zongzhou to relay would be inappropriate; sending them through palace eunuchs or the Embroidered Guard horsemen would seem far too insincere.

It was precisely someone like Xu Yunzhen, a scion of a house pledged to endure with the dynasty, who was most suitable.

As for the rest, there were also some clerks and copyists with decent attitudes, pre-selected earlier by the Ministry of Personnel.

Embroidered Uniform Guard horsemen detached from the Guard to accompany the mission — younger men, of better attitude, with no past record of misconduct.

And the dozen or so middle-aged Imperial Academy students newly selected by the Ministry of Personnel, intended to fill local posts as county magistrates and assistant magistrates.

None of them were anything special.

The only special thing was that Zhu Youjian had also slipped Li Zicheng and Gao Yingxiang into the group.

They were under the Embroidered Uniform Guard's roster.

On the one hand, they were responsible for protecting the imperial commission's work as it proceeded.

On the other hand, they were to provide their experience with border trade beyond the passes and with the barbarian tribes.

As for rebellion?

Who on earth, once they had secured the iron rice bowl of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, would still go off to rebel?

In over two hundred years since the Great Ming's founding, no one had ever heard of such a bizarre thing.

Besides, Li Zicheng had nearly forgotten his lovely wife back home, and in the capital had shacked up with a half-veiled courtesan — his days were more comfortable than he ever knew.

"Your Majesty… that is the entirety of the plan." Liu Zongzhou's voice sharpened once more in Zhu Youjian's ears.

Zhu Youjian rose with perfect composure, his expression unruffled, as though his mind had not wandered at all.

"Excellent!"

"We see nothing that requires amendment. Proceed according to this plan."

He stood, his gaze sweeping across the assembly, maintaining ample eye contact with every person.

"Many believe that going to Shaanxi is banishment, that it means a dead end for one's career."

"A colossal mistake!"

"In Our heart, among the Great Ming's two capitals and thirteen provinces, none is more vital than Shaanxi!"

"Every one of you was handpicked by Us from dozens of candidates."

"Every draft of the plan you produced, We have carefully reviewed."

"We believe in you, just as We believe in Ourself!"

"Simply go and act with boldness. Should you encounter any obstruction, telegraph back directly, and We shall personally back you!"

"This day next year, in this very place, shall be the moment we, sovereign and ministers, reunite to celebrate our shared success!"

The assembly, stirred by his words, bowed low in unison and roared their gratitude.

Zhu Youjian kept his smile, his gaze slowly passing over them, and said warmly:

"Rise, all of you. For months on end, in meetings and planning sessions without pause, We trust you are all utterly exhausted in body and spirit."

"Today, tomorrow, and the day after, We grant all personnel leave to rest. Return to your homes, recuperate, gather your strength, and then pack to leave the capital and take up your duties." The officials in the hall, delight plain on their faces, gave thanks again.

Only Liu Zongzhou furrowed his brow, yet constrained by court protocol before the sovereign, he could hardly rebuff the Emperor's gracious concern for his subjects, and had no choice but to hold his tongue. Zhu Youjian noted this, gave a hearty laugh, and waved a hand. "We shall return to the palace first."

The officials bowed their heads and inclined their bodies, solemnly escorting the imperial departure.

Back in the Hall of Earnestness, after dismissing his attendants,

Zhu Youjian's ramrod-straight back finally sagged.

He leaned back, tilted his head to stare at the carved ceiling, and stared blankly for a long while, eyes vacant.

The sovereign authority and confident composure he had displayed before his ministers just moments ago had vanished utterly.

After an indeterminate time, he let out a long sigh and came back to himself.

He picked up the Shaanxi plan from the table once more and leafed through it.

But what he wanted to see was not the main text of the Shaanxi plan.

As noted earlier, for governing Shaanxi, the plan itself was not that critical.

What Zhu Youjian wanted to examine was an inconspicuous appendix behind the plan: "A Table of Drought and Flood Conditions Across All Provinces Since the First Year of Tianqi." The light red areas indicated mild drought; the deep red, severe drought.

The earthen yellow indicated normal conditions.

The light blue and deep blue indicated mild flood and severe flood, respectively.

(Attached chart: all figures are proportions of drought/flood occurrences; extremes are proportions of severe drought/severe flood occurrences. The first year of Yongchang is listed separately, for readers' eyes only, not for Zhu Youjian to see.)

The findings of this investigation were the true source of the anxiety, even dread, in Zhu Youjian's heart.

Because this investigative report diverged drastically from what he remembered from his past life!

If one looked only at the results on this table,

the most afflicted region in the Great Ming at present was not Shaanxi at all, but Northern Zhili!

If his memory were erased and he were asked to pick, among the northern provinces, the place most likely to erupt in mass rebellion,

his first choice would be Northern Zhili and Shanxi, his second, Shandong.

And Shaanxi? He was sorry, but it could sit at the same table as Henan.

Judging solely from the current data, who would think Shaanxi was about to collapse this year?

This reality — both wonderful and terrible — profoundly shaped Zhu Youjian's actions.

It was wonderful because, as the saying goes, "three years of accumulation can withstand a famine."

Over the past few years, Shaanxi's climatic conditions had not been too poor; only in the seventh year of Tianqi did localized mild drought begin, with severe drought in Xi'an Prefecture.

(Note: Xi'an lies in the Wei River basin; as long as there is not a continuous severe drought that cuts off the river's flow, the harvest will have a guaranteed minimum.)

This meant the local populace surely still possessed considerable stored grain, which could be redistributed through administrative and commercial means. This was precisely why he had devoted the energy of the first year of Yongchang to raising funds, rather than raising grain.

Money can dig wells, buy grain, and pay wages — it has broad uses and is far more efficient to transport.

Faced with this verified reality, money was indeed, for the moment, more useful than grain.

And the worst part was that this very situation in turn constrained the means he could actually deploy right now.

"Treating disease before it arises" — three simple words, yet harder to achieve than scaling the heavens.

The moral narrative of the New Policies rested on the vague and illusory "doctrine of national collapse" and the "struggle between man and land."

Using fictional threats of this caliber to drive reform was, in truth, already exceedingly difficult.

And for Zhu Youjian to now cast all caution aside and directly amass vast quantities of grain to ship to Guanzhong was even more unrealistic. The officials and commoners of Northern Zhili, Shandong, and Shanxi would collectively demand:

Your Majesty, why, in your eyes, do you not see us, who are suffering even more grievously right now?

The allusion to hiding one's illness and dreading the physician is laughable, yet who in this world is not Duke Huan of Cai?

One need not wait until the sickness has entered the marrow to seek treatment, but at the very least it must first reach the stomach and the flesh before a ruler can justifiably act. Zhu Youjian sat before his desk, lost in thought for a long while.

One moment he suspected his memory was faulty; the next he wondered if he had transmigrated into the wrong world.

How could this be? Where exactly had things gone wrong?

Until a thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

— Perhaps, back then, the Chongzhen Emperor had looked upon these very same reports in just this way?

Could it be that this was the true death-trap that brought down the Great Ming?

Faced with such a heaven-sent cataclysm — one that defied the natural order, that refused to play by the rules, that struck with an unbroken, unexplained chain of blows —

The sovereign could only scramble to parry the myriad shifting crises rushing at him, yet always half a beat too slow, every single decision landing on the wrong square.

One misstep, then misstep after misstep, until the entire board was lost.

Seventeen years of rising before dawn and eating after dusk, of bitter, dogged endurance, only to be trapped at last in a death-spiral too far gone to reverse — his heart's strength spent, utterly collapsing.

"Could this… be the truth?"

Zhu Youjian's throat tightened; he murmured low to himself.

The fading twilight slanted through the carved window lattice and fell into the hall, striking Zhu Youjian's face and rousing him from his shock.

— Enough. Things having come to this pass, I might as well eat first.

Eat your fill, and you can live longer; live longer, and any problem becomes easier to solve.

If all else fails, can't I simply outlive Li Zicheng and Hong Taiji?

Those men are all quite a few years older than Us, after all.

… Ah, no, wait — Li Zicheng won't be rising in revolt anymore.

The eighteen-year-old young Son of Heaven, leveraging his greatest advantage, swiftly completed his self-adjustment.

He rose with a light step and strode out, heading straight for the Secretariat.

Pick a group at random and have dinner with them.

And incidentally, use the progress of their work to ease the anxiety in his heart a little — that would be good too.

Ah… or after dinner, why not just have a rousing, all-out game of war chess.

I'll take the Jianzhou forces with fifty thousand troops and thrash the opponent holding twenty thousand Ming troops!

For the young Son of Heaven, troubles came quickly and dissipated just as fast.

And as his figure moved aside, the setting sun, no longer blocked by the Emperor, spilled unreservedly onto the pages of that booklet.

A shard of dying light, sliced by the window lattice, like a long, narrow blade, slowly swept across the booklet as time passed.

Northern Zhili, Shandong, Henan…

The patch of light finally came to rest upon the two characters "Shaanxi."

Steeped in the lingering glow of the setting sun, those two characters first blazed crimson as blood.

Gradually, as the sun sank in the west, the blood color drained away, turning dim and lusterless.

Then, darkness fell.

In the darkness, after who knows how long, flickering candlelight was rekindled.

This booklet was once again picked up by a pair of hands bearing thin calluses between thumb and forefinger, rubbed and pondered over and over deep into the night.

And then, it was the morning of another new day — the morning of many, many days.

Later still, it was gently gathered up by a young eunuch, its cover closed, and placed properly into a bookcase.

The vermilion nanmu cabinet door slammed shut, and then never opened again.

The Dipper turned, the stars shifted, and the years flowed on.

Dust settled in the silent space and was brushed away; bookworms probed at the edges of the paper and were driven off.

Beyond the window, the palace walls greened and yellowed, and yellowed and were blanketed in white snow.

Countless clamors and cannon-fire surged beyond the walls, and beyond the walls subsided.

This booklet simply rested here in stillness, passing the quietest stretch of time since its own creation.

Until, three hundred years later.

Museum lights shone down on the glass case, refracting a faint, glimmering light.

"Aren't you the one who posts on the forum every day, saying the Yongchang Emperor is just a 'Once-in-a-Millennium Emperor' forcibly packaged by the Zhu Ming imperial house to bolster their legitimacy?" Outside the glass display case, a student wearing black-framed glasses pointed at the open booklet inside, his expression agitated.

"Take a look at this 'Comprehensive Chart of Floods and Droughts Under Heaven Since the First Year of Tianqi'! Look at this exact point in time!"

"At that juncture — the seventh year of Tianqi, the first year of Yongchang — the land was covered in famine! Northern Zhili, Shandong — which of them didn't look more wretched than Shaanxi?"

"Without a master-level strategic vision that was a cut above the rest, verging on the miraculous!"

"Who would have overridden all dissent and placed the focus of governance on Shaanxi, a thousand li away?!"

"This is an unrepeatable political genius! The ironclad proof is right here — what do you have to say now?"

The person being refuted was named Jiahao.

At this moment, he too was plunged into immense shock, staring fixedly at the booklet inside.

Though the paper had yellowed with age into a brittle, withered hue, and the edges of the handwriting had dimmed somewhat, the vermilion endorsements and every figure in the data remained clearly legible.

How could this be? It makes no sense…

Jiahua's mind raced at full speed, the various "deconstructionist historiography" theories he had read over the years colliding madly in his head.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up, as if he had seized a life-saving straw. His face flushed crimson with agitation, and he loudly launched a counterattack:

"You—what do you know!"

"This must be a forgery!"

"Exactly! This is fundamentally forged historical material, utterly untrustworthy!"

"This is material deliberately fabricated by the Zhu Ming imperial house to preserve what little social standing they have left in modern society!"

The more Jiahua spoke, the smoother it flowed, and he even took on a hint of superiority, as if he had seen through everything.

"If you believe this, you're falling for the Zhu Ming imperial house's lies!"

"They've colluded with those vested-interest civil official cliques! Together they've packaged an omniscient, omnipotent, godlike ancestor to maintain their prestige in the eyes of the modern populace!"

He straightened up and looked at his companion with a condescending, pitying gaze, as if he had seen through the truth of the entire world.

"You, my friend, are still far too superficial in how you look at things."

"What do historical materials count for? Historical materials can be forged!"

"How can you trust historical materials when studying history!"

"The key is the fundamental logic of how the world operates—do you understand?!"

"Materialism tells us there are no gods or emperors!"

"The Yongchang Emperor was, in essence, a representative of the early bourgeoisie! He was also the true driving force behind the later 'Great Migration Massacre'!"

"He is to be nailed to the pillar of shame in history!"

"This is determined by class nature! It is an objective fact that no amount of forged historical materials, no amount of god-making, can ever change!"

Seeing his companion dumbstruck, Jiahua's sense of heroic righteousness swelled even higher, and he sneered:

"Don't spend all your days lost in the breathtaking beauty of your Eldest Princess."

"She's just a figure deliberately pushed forward by the Zhu Ming imperial house. It's all a manufactured persona, nothing but a crimson-powdered skeleton—do you get it? You need to see through the political intent behind them pushing this figure!"

Jiahua shook his head, his eyes full of disdain:

"People like you will never understand, I suppose. How dull."

He turned and walked away, unilaterally declaring his own victory.

"Who first awakens from the great dream? I alone know it in this life."

"In this world, those as clear-eyed as I am are, in the end, still far too few."