Chapter 339: The Imperial Examination Begins!

"Henan / Shanxi / Shandong / Huguang / Fujian… among the thirteen provinces of the realm, this place is the pivot of the whole situation / the critical key / the point that breaks the deadlock…" — these words have been ringing out thick and fast in the Hall of Benevolent Wisdom these past few days.

But the same sentence pattern does not mean the content is exactly the same.

Pressing for tax payment, relieving the people's hardship, cleaning up local governance, preparing the new policies.

With the exception of Guizhou, these are the four tasks shared by every province's Governor-General and Governor task force.

Among them, the two items of taxation and local governance are deeply coupled.

The concepts of "nominal tax rate" and "effective tax rate," after several months of ferment, have now become the political correctness of the court. According to this theory, the Great Ming's taxes have, in fact, been collected in absolutely full measure every year — even many times over.

It is just that these regular taxes, miscellaneous levies, and even blood taxes have not flowed into the central government's hands.

Based on this theory, the court can actually accept that the localities cannot collect the taxes.

After all, natural disasters are unpredictable, and the new surtaxes levied over the past few years have indeed squeezed the common people to the breaking point; local destitution is a genuine fact. But — you cannot collect the taxes, can you not even find the corrupt officials?

Governor-General, are you serious?

Are you saying that when all the crows under heaven are black, you somehow cannot find a single black crow?

If, after layer upon layer of screening, repeated discipline, and repeated confirmation of plans, a divine talent so heedless of his own future could still emerge, Zhu Youjian could only say: a six.

In short, the rules of the new policies are actually very clear.

Either hand over the money, or hand over a head.

It can be your own head, or it can be a corrupt official's head — pick one.

Of course, that is only the bluntest version.

How could the court issue something so nakedly bare as an open decree?

Every policy, every performance target, still has to be draped in a cloak of tender warmth and high-sounding rhetoric.

If it were not so, how could the court list "relieving the people's hardship" — something exceedingly difficult to quantify — as a core assessment metric?

As for the item of preparing the new policies, that is actually the simplest.

Each province need only select one large county and three small counties to launch pilot programs.

Compared to the enormous scale of at least a hundred counties per province, this truly cannot be counted as a heavy task.

Rather than forcing the localities to produce political achievements, it is more accurate to say it is laying the groundwork for the new policies to follow.

And sharing the task of sending up trial balloons and laying groundwork alongside them are the more than six thousand examination candidates waiting in the capital.

Once the results are announced, those who fail will, after all, return to their home villages.

What they have seen and heard, which they carry back, along with the continuous stream of the Great Ming Times and other political commentary journals that follow, will ceaselessly influence the entire Great Ming.

When that time comes, that will be when the winds and waves of the new policies truly take root in this era.

And setting aside these common tasks, the thirteen provinces each have their own utterly distinct special missions.

Take, for example, the three provinces of Sichuan, Huguang, and Henan.

Because they border Shaanxi, grain production and construction naturally become the top priority.

Even if it were not originally a priority, the Yongchang Emperor would find every way to make it one.

By extension, the improvement of merchant travel and trade is also mostly listed as a secondary task.

Goods circulate, silver and coin flow freely.

Only when these two arteries are fully up and running, when the drought in Shaanxi truly spirals out of control, can these mature silver-and-goods channels, under the court's regulation, transform into grain channels and population migration channels.

This is also the one preparation Zhu Youjian can barely put in place before Shaanxi collapses.

Another example is Guizhou.

This is the meat-grinder front line of the She-An Rebellion, and it is even more different from the other provinces.

This war began in the first year of Tianqi.

And the source of the rebellion… is, in a way, also connected to Liaodong.

In the ninth month of the first year of Tianqi, the court ordered the two Pacification Commissions of Yongning and Shuixi to mobilize twenty thousand native soldiers and rush to Liaodong for battle.

Yet at that point in time, Liaoyang and Shenyang had already fallen, and the previous wave of Sichuan native soldiers transferred there had long since died at the Battle of Sarhu. Such a demand was practically no different from ordering them to their deaths.

She Chongming seized precisely this wave of discontent, rode the sentiments of the rank-and-file native soldiers, and raised his troops in revolt.

To go to Liaodong now is death; to rise up for a great cause is also death — shall we die for our country?

However, the Great Ming may not be able to defeat Jianzhou, but can it not defeat a mere tusi? By the third year of Tianqi, the Great Ming had recovered from being caught off guard. Zhu Xieyuan united the various armies, defeated She Chongming at Yongning, and pressed on in pursuit to Longchang in Shuixi, capturing She Chongming's wife, née An, his younger brother She Chonghui, as well as the rebel Grand Secretary, Military Commissioner, Chancellor, Governor-General, and numerous other civil and military officers.

The Great Liang state thus fell, becoming a government-in-exile.

And She Chongming's home base, the Yongning Pacification Commission, was even directly abolished. The court established circuits and prefectures there, replacing native chieftains with regular officials.

Therefore, the fighting in Sichuan is now over; the real front line has shifted forward to the Shuixi Pacification Commission in Guizhou.

Yet this place is all high mountains and steep ridges, easy to defend and hard to attack.

So the court adopted the plan that Fu Zonglong had drawn up before leaving office for mourning.

Summed up in one phrase: build hard camps, fight dull battles, nibble away step by step.

The power of the An family of Shuixi is not confined to the Shuixi Pacification Commission alone; on its periphery, it is also entwined with many outer fences such as the Grand Secretary, Longzhong, and Cai Miao.

Fu Zonglong's countermeasure is a three-step process:

Step one:

Along the Yachi River, gradually seize key points and strangle these outer fences one by one.

Then dig deep moats, build high ramparts, set up beacon towers and cannons, and thereby hold the key points along the river.

Step two:

Train naval troops, refit boats and oars, and harass day and night along the river, raiding the rebels' farmland near the riverbanks so they cannot farm, shrinking their sphere of influence.

During this period, enforce a strict blockade — not a single grain of rice, not a scrap of supplies, is permitted to flow into Shuixi territory.

Step three:

Once the blockade line is fully formed, then assess merits and bestow rewards for the early gains, enfeoffing Guard Commanders, Company Commanders, and Squad Leaders.

Immediately afterward, they would settle the troops right there on the spot to farm military land, establish guard stations, and distribute the conquered fields to meritorious officers and soldiers as hereditary property.

Then they would recruit and pacify refugees, settling them on military farmland to till.

While reducing the pressure of grain and fodder supply, they would simultaneously reorganize and train the army, and overhaul military equipment.

Under this plan,

the Great Ming would sit at ease and wait for the exhausted enemy, while the rebel army would have to sustain its own troops on the pitiful output of Shuixi alone, and also feed She Chongming's remnant forces that had collapsed and retreated from southern Sichuan.

Over time, they would inevitably lose patience and launch attacks on their own initiative, or even erupt into internal strife due to grain shortages.

This utterly unheroic, even somewhat foolish-looking tortoise-shell style of warfare happened to suit the Yongchang Emperor's taste perfectly.

Steady, conservative, no mistakes.

Therefore, even though the She-An war was still devouring over a million taels in military pay each year, the central government had never issued any edict urging a quick victory. The Governor dispatched to Guizhou, after much back and forth, was finally confirmed as Fu Zonglong.

Even though the man was still at home in mourning for a parent, and was not even within the scope of this round's selection for governors and grand coordinators.

Never mind that — recall him from mourning and restore him to office! Let the able man labor more!

It's decided — you're the one! Fu Zonglong!

Anyway, he was originally from Yunnan, so this business trip couldn't really be considered too far from home.

(Attached map: locations of Yongning and Shuixi — these are what are called tusi domains; in fact, Huguang at this time also had many tusi.) As for Guangdong, Fujian, and other places,

the special missions of the dispatched governors leaned more toward preparations for opening maritime trade.

Who were the local maritime merchants? What were their respective spheres of influence?

Who opposed opening the seas, and who supported it? What were the reasons behind their stances?

Get to the bottom of it, probe slowly, and finally bring everyone uniformly into the capital to negotiate face-to-face with the court.

If it truly won't work — if Fujian is unwilling to open its seas — then is Guangdong willing?

If the smuggling oligarchs of Liangguang are unwilling to open the seas, then are the legitimate merchants willing?

If the sea bandits along the coast are unwilling to open the seas…

Then what about the foreign barbarians outside — are they willing?

If Zheng Zhilong is unwilling, then is Xu Xinsu willing?

Liu Kongjing had been advocating opening the seas for so long, yet he had never once obtained the Emperor's nod of approval.

The reason was not actually that opening the seas was unworkable, but rather that Liu Kongjing, a man from a family of book merchants, had an understanding of the southeast coast that was, in truth, far too superficial.

Well of course… Liu Kongjing's family was from Jianyang County in Jianning Prefecture, Fujian. Wuyi Mountain tea — that he understood. But the great sea — that he truly did not understand. (Attached map: location of Jianyang County; a bit north is Wuyi Mountain.)

As the interviews of one imperial commissioner group after another concluded, the mission targets — set based on impressions from later ages and the results of social conditions investigations — were finalized one by one.

A great number of officials whom Zhu Youjian had never even heard of in later ages were thus scattered to every corner of the Great Ming.

But with every single person sent out, the Yongchang Emperor's inner confidence grew by a fraction.

What he was doing now, compared to what the historical Chongzhen had done, was really not all that different.

Nothing more than:

sending out a somewhat larger number of people;

setting somewhat stricter assessment targets;

making the implementation plans somewhat more explicit;

brewing the preliminary motivational talk a bit richer;

giving somewhat more generous rewards;

and the Emperor having somewhat more patience;

that's all.

Ahem.

The Emperor was like this, and so every imperial commissioner group below him, and even the accompanying Embroidered Uniform Guard officers, were all brimming with confidence, eager and ready for action.

After all, before this, the news that the Emperor had declared at the budget meeting that the million-tael grand reward distribution was unshakable had already spread throughout the officialdom. Money was a minor matter.

One million taels, if truly distributed by project, meant that even the most outstanding New Policy official might at most receive ten thousand taels per person.

Which, come to think of it, was merely the normal annual income of a regular provincial posting.

But the political significance behind it was enough to drive every ambitious official mad.

Beyond these motivational measures and reward-and-punishment measures,

the imperial commissioner groups also received a great deal of support in terms of "information."

In the convoy of carts and horses leaving the capital, apart from the officials' personal valuables, the items loaded in greatest quantity were all kinds of documents and reference materials. "Directory of Examination Degree-Holders, Gentry, Juren, and Government Students of XX Province"

"Original Drafts of the Questionnaire on Current Abuses in XX Province"

"New Policy Reference News, Issue No. 1 (Quarterly; contents include New Policy case studies, investigation reports, issuance of rewards and punishments, policy promulgations, etc.)" "New Policy Officials' Training Manual"

"Template for Local Investigation Report Completion — Using the Leting Investigation as an Example"

"Gas Well Regulations: Theory, Material Selection, Construction Methods, and Well-Drilling Instructions"

And this surging wave of rapid advance was not even confined to the imperial commissioner groups alone.

Benefiting from the earlier grand investigation into the current abuses of each province, every examination candidate waiting in the capital had already been swept up entirely into this New Policy frenzy. Every time a group of imperial commissioners left the city, the juren, Imperial Academy students, and even merchants in the capital from the corresponding province would spontaneously surge toward the city gates to see them off.

For a time, farewell poems and poems of reflection surged forth like a tide.

All sorts of fierce debates on state affairs spread through the streets and alleyways as if gone mad.

The discussions among the examination candidates awaiting the test were especially intense, and mainly focused on three areas:

First, the New Policy projects unfolding right before their eyes in the capital, Jiliao, Northern Zhili, and other places.

These matters were reported continuously and at great length in the "Great Ming Times."

Where more hidden fields had been surveyed and brought to light, where more "white crow" gentry had emerged to voluntarily donate silver, where years of accumulated abuses had been abolished, where some blind-to-danger petty functionaries had been dismissed or arrested, and what the latest results of the pay audit at Jinzhou city were.

If one only read the "Great Ming Times," the current situation of the New Policy everywhere was not merely decent, not merely good — it was a picture of universal excellence.

The second was the endemic ills of each province.

The Henan juren bitterly denounced the rot in the local military garrisons, the neglect of waterworks, and the fact that their province, with only eight prefectures, had to support six princely estates. The Huguang juren immediately shot back, saying that they had eight princely estates!

Guangdong had no princely estates, but they had troubles of their own.

Guangdong was a remote place where the court's authority ran thin; it had always been a disaster zone of rampant local corruption.

For one thing, Hainan Island, where convicts were banished, fell under Guangdong's jurisdiction — which tells you how far-flung it was.

In that place, on top of the regular levies prescribed by the court, there were all manner of local surcharges and miscellaneous taxes.

For instance, a duck levy, an ox levy, a rice-worm levy, and even miscellaneous taxes on brokers large and small in every market town.

All of them were powerful families and entrenched bullies colluding with the local officials, fleecing the common people under the court's name.

Was this not a perfect illustration of the "nominal tax rate" versus the "effective tax rate" that His Majesty had spoken of?

Worse still, the former Governor He Shijin had already forced the Folangji men in Macau to yield; they were willing to raise the ground rent to twenty-two thousand taels. Why, then, did the matter suddenly go nowhere? Had factional strife at court really reached the point where the state could turn a blind eye to an extra twenty thousand taels of annual revenue falling into its lap?

The common people knew the dynasty's finances were strained, and for all their hardship they bore up as best they could.

But when the revenue could plainly be drawn from foreign barbarians, why must it be drawn from the common people instead?!

Of course, amid this blaze of fervor, there were also some discordant notes.

The juren of South Zhili were complaining: why were the governors of Yingtian and Fengyang exempt from the re-examination?

—The full title of the Governor of Yingtian was: Superintendent of Grain Reserves, Commander of Military Affairs, and Concurrent Governor of Yingtian and the Surrounding Prefectures; Fengyang was the same.

These two governor posts were, in effect, the highest-ranking officials for the Jiangnan and Jiangbei regions of South Zhili.

They voiced fierce dissatisfaction with the court's reply that "South Zhili is a vital foundational region and must be governed with gradual care"! The Northern Metropolitan Region was also a vital foundational region — why did it not get governed with gradual care?

Had the metropolitan examination not been imminent, and had they not feared jeopardizing their prospects, they would probably have already banded together to submit a joint petition.

As for the third focus of debate, it was the way of science.

The various demonstrations outside Guangqu Gate were certainly stunning, and the ascent of the hot-air balloon did indeed seem a miracle.

But what truly ignited this wave of scientific fervor was something that had drawn little notice at the start: the air-pump well.

After New Year's Day, Shuntian Prefecture allocated a dedicated fund to manufacture a batch of air-pump wells, installing them first at various locations across the capital.

The Forbidden Palace and the Six Ministries and their subordinate courts went without saying.

What truly changed everything was their installation at street intersections and market wards, at the Imperial Academy, the Shuntian Prefectural School, the Military School, the Capital Camps encampments, and other such places. Altogether no more than a few hundred wells, yet in the span of a single month, the number of people using this device exploded from a few hundred to over a hundred thousand.

Nowadays, a resident of the capital who had not grasped that iron rod with his own hands, pumped it vigorously up and down a few times, and watched with his own eyes as clear well water gushed forth, could hardly claim to be a true city-dweller.

This was precisely why, at the recent royal auction, the second item up for bid was the "Air-Pump Well Centralized Procurement Project."

Demand had been thoroughly validated; the form and materials, after more than three months of iteration, had reached initial maturity. This year, the air-pump well was destined to spread across the entire north.

As for why the juren were so frenzied — to the point of doing this right before the metropolitan examination, when they ought to have been making their final sprint —

why they were so passionately debating these topics that had nothing to do with the classics —

the root cause: the questionnaire was merely a tiny spark.

The real reason had to be traced back to the first imperial edict His Majesty issued after the Lantern Festival.

"After the Jiangling reforms, the dynasty's fortunes rallied for a time; discipline was somewhat restored, and a measure of vigor returned to the court and the realm."

"Yet now, more than fifty years on, the old achievements of reform have steadily faded, the former laws have gradually slackened, accumulated abuses have crept in, and the old decadence has revived."

"The dynasty has declined to such a state, yet now it confronts a transformation unseen in a thousand ages: the contest between man and land, border clashes erupting one after another, internal and external crises pressing in at once — the difficulties of the present moment far surpass those of antiquity."

"Now that the new policies have begun, We desire to set the realm to rights, purge the ills of the age, rectify the crumbling order, and forge the Great Ming anew. For this, We precisely need extraordinary talents to undertake extraordinary tasks. Therefore, in this metropolitan examination, true talent shall be selected to meet the world's changes, practical learning shall be sought to reverse the decadent tide, and worthies shall be raised to shore up the state."

"Across all three sessions, equal weight shall be given to each. Shun flowery rhetoric and empty disquisitions; reject those who are vain and insubstantial. Take care to identify and promote men versed in practical affairs, to prepare them for the court's use in renovating governance and securing the realm."

"Let every examiner grasp Our intent: hold the scales justly, reject pretension and honor substance, choose true talent with care. Do not bend the rules for private ends or admit the unworthy, burying the able and the virtuous, and so betray Our heart's desire to seek worthies, govern well, carry forward the past, and open the future."

"So decreed."

This edict was very, very long.

But for the juren, only one line truly mattered:

Across all three sessions, equal weight shall be given to each.

The three sessions of the Great Ming metropolitan examination tested, respectively: the classics and their meanings from the Four Books; legal judgments, edicts, and official forms; and policy essays on current affairs.

The first, needless to say, was the eight-legged essay.

The second consisted of legal questions and edict-drafting exercises — more akin to official document writing, where you might be asked to adjudicate a case or draft an edict for enfeoffing a princely estate, and so on. The third was policy proposals addressing contemporary issues.

"Equal weight across all three sessions" — if this did not refer to the policy essays of the third session, could it possibly mean the legal judgments and edicts of the second?

Just like that.

No need to reform the examinations, no need to revise any of the examination textbooks.

Just one imperial edict.

Just one unmistakable expression of inclination.

The will of the new policies swept through like a great gale, toppling all hesitation and fence-sitting with the force of a wrecking storm, and built up the greatest surge of opinion since the contest over land and population.

Yet however clamorous this surge, it ultimately subsided little by little, and under the edicts that advanced day by day, it came to an abrupt halt. "On the first day of the second month, the Ministry of Rites shall conduct the metropolitan examination, and requests the appointment of examination officials."

"On the fifth day of the second month, the decree was issued: Grand Secretaries Zheng Sanjun and Li Banghua were appointed chief and deputy examiners, and twenty associate examiners were designated."

"On the sixth day of the second month, the Grand Secretaries and associate examiners, having expressed their gratitude at the palace gate, withdrew, changed into auspicious robes, and together attended a banquet at the Ministry of Rites. The banquet concluded, they were escorted into the examination compound, the gates were locked, and the session was sealed." The metropolitan examination of the first year of Great Ming Yongchang...

was about to begin!!

(Here the author takes bets on who will be the top metropolitan graduate. But I suggest you don't bet, because the house is crooked this time.)