Chapter 49: The Great Ming Debt Restructuring Begins!

Yang Jingchen sat in his seat, so agitated he seemed to lose his bearings — but that can wait.

Over here, Chief Grand Secretary Huang Liji and Minister of Revenue Guo Yunhou had already walked together to stand before that enormous screen.

"Your Majesty's method… is indeed clear and lucid."

Gazing at the data on the screen, freshly transcribed into Suzhou numerals and arranged in tables, Huang Liji offered a heartfelt word of praise.

Guo Yunhou cupped his hands in salute, seconding the sentiment, but his mind was elsewhere, his brow furrowed into a deep, tight crease.

Zhu Youjian walked over as well, looking at the figures on the screen.

The faint ease he had felt moments ago, brought by the pleasant surprise of Lu Xiangsheng, had now vanished entirely.

He extended a finger, not touching any of the dense line items, but pointing straight to the summary figures at the very bottom of the table, specially written in vermilion ink.

"So, from the final years of Wanli until today, the arrears in military pay across the Nine Frontiers total… nine million six hundred eighty-seven thousand four hundred twenty-three taels?"

Earlier, some ministers had been sitting far back; old and dim-sighted, they could not see clearly.

Now, hearing that figure, every one of them drew a sharp, cold breath.

"All of you, come and take a look."

Zhu Youjian said it flatly.

At once, the space before the screen, which had been fairly roomy, was instantly packed with people.

Guo Yunhou stepped forward on his own initiative, bowed deeply to Zhu Youjian, and spoke in a voice full of bleakness and helplessness.

"Your Majesty… this is how things stand."

He raised his head; this Minister of Revenue, who held the purse strings of the Great Ming, now looked like an old man in his twilight years, frail as a candle guttering in the wind.

"The annual revenue of the the the Taicang treasury treasury treasury, in the early years of Tianqi, still amounted to seven million five hundred fifty thousand taels. Yet… yet today, barely three million three hundred thousand taels remain."

"And the Liaodong levy is five million two hundred thousand, the pay and provisions for the troops of the Nine Frontiers three million two hundred eighty thousand… the fixed annual quotas total eight million four hundred eighty thousand."

"Even setting aside the accumulated arrears of the Nine Frontiers, expenditure still exceeds income; each year will run a deficit of over five million."

By this point, Guo Yunhou's voice had grown somewhat choked.

"Those who spend wealth grow more numerous by the day, while those who generate it find no path! This subject… this subject has tried every means to raise funds, yet in the end… in the end, I can conceive of no solution!"

Only then did Zhu Youjian truly look at this Minister of Revenue with serious attention.

He saw that the man's hair was already streaked with white, his eye sockets red and swollen, and beneath his eyes were two dark, heavy patches of livid black, as if he had not closed his eyes for dozens of days and nights.

His entire spirit seemed drained away, plainly the decaying look of a man at death's door.

A sudden understanding dawned on Zhu Youjian — no wonder that on the list of the eunuch faction's members that Wei, Wang, and Tian had pieced together, the Ministry of Revenue had only two or three small fry.

A mess like this — what opportunistic climber would willingly touch it?

Everyone was silent; even Li Guopu's brows were tightly knit.

They all knew the Great Ming's finances had collapsed, but never before had this catastrophic scene been laid out so clearly before everyone's eyes, before the Emperor's eyes, as it was today.

This gaping, heaven-high hole — who could fill it? Who would dare fill it?

The atmosphere in the great hall was so oppressive that one could scarcely breathe.

Yet in Zhu Youjian's heart, there was no discouragement.

Transmigrating into Chongzhen was a heaven-sent opening hand — but "heaven-sent" is only when compared to the other doomed last emperors. (Yang Guang and Zhao Ji, don't even try to squeeze in here, thanks.)

This Great Ming of 1627 was already a tottering edifice on the verge of collapse, the very image of a dying dynasty.

It was just that the people aboard this wreck of a ship were still muddled, most of them believing they could simply patch things up.

— Unaware that the true storm had already begun to howl above the skies of the Central Plains.

Zhu Youjian was about to speak, to say a few words to boost morale, and then slowly lay out his plans.

Xue Fengxiang, the Minister of Works, hesitated again and again, and in the end steeled himself and stepped out from the ranks.

"Your Majesty…"

"Now that the Late Emperor has passed on, to construct his imperial tomb, according to regulation, one million taels of silver will be required. By established precedent, this is to be allocated from the privy purse."

He truly dared not keep silent.

This was a matter that had to be reported today. If he did not speak now, and His Majesty issued a decree diverting the entire privy purse to plug the holes in the Nine Frontiers, his Ministry of Works would be left holding an impossible mess.

If anything went wrong with the Late Emperor's mausoleum, then his name, Xue Fengxiang, would be strung up and flogged over and over by later generations in the annals of history!

At this, even Zhu Youjian felt his composure starting to crack.

Good heavens — each one was more adept than the last at twisting the knife.

He rapidly calculated in his mind the meager family fortune he had on hand.

The privy purse still held one million four hundred thirty thousand taels.

The confiscated estates of Wei Zhongxian, Madam Ke, and the rest of the traitorous clique totaled one million sixty thousand taels.

Add to that the fifty thousand taels Wang Tiqian had voluntarily surrendered, and the seventy thousand taels from Tian Ergeng's side…

At the absolute maximum, he now had two million six hundred ten thousand taels.

Wonderful.

A self-mocking curve tugged at the corner of Zhu Youjian's mouth.

Never mind filling this ten-million-plus hole — even plugging a quarter of the gap would be a stretch.

He exhaled softly, then asked in a steady tone:

"In that case, what are the annual revenues of each treasury now? And what silver do they hold?"

Guo Yunhou cupped his hands and replied, "The the the Taicang treasury treasury treasury, as I have already stated, has an annual revenue of 3.3 million taels, and currently holds roughly 330,000 taels in silver."

Huo Weihua, the Right Vice Minister of War acting in charge, followed immediately: "The Ever-Full Treasury of the Ministry of War has an annual revenue of over 800,000 taels, and currently holds 167,000 taels in silver."

Xue Fengxiang, the Minister of Works, also answered: "The Frugal-Savings Treasury of the Ministry of Works has an annual revenue of 800,000 taels, and currently holds somewhat over 100,000 taels in silver."

Zhu Youjian felt his head swelling.

Zhu Yuanzhang's ingenious design had truly bequeathed a boundless legacy of trouble.

Of the state's cash revenue, one million taels sits with the Emperor, eight hundred thousand with the Ministry of War, eight hundred thousand with the Ministry of Works — only the remaining coin and grain falls under the Ministry of Revenue.

Yet even adding all the outer court's annual income to his privy purse revenue, the total at present is barely over six million taels — still short of the annual quota of more than eight million.

Zhu Youjian sighed inwardly.

He turned away, no longer looking at that maddening screen, and fixed his gaze once more on Guo Yunhou, who seemed on the verge of collapse.

"We knew the state's affairs were difficult, but We never imagined they had reached such a pass."

His voice was gentle, tinged with a trace of apology, and also a trace of admiration.

"For my minister to have raised funds from every quarter and struggled to hold things together under such circumstances — it has been no easy feat."

He paused, then turned to Gao Shiming, the brush-holding eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial standing in attendance beside him, and instructed: "Add a red mark for Minister Guo."

Guo Yunhou jerked his head up; a flicker of surprise and emotion passed through his clouded eyes.

When he had received this assignment three days ago, he had in truth already prepared himself.

The personal memorial requesting leave to retire was inside his sleeve — it was only that Zhang Ruitu's fate had been somewhat terrifying, and he dared not pull it out just yet.

Since ancient times, the man who exposes a problem has always been more hated than the man who creates it.

He had never expected to receive such forbearance today.

Zhu Youjian paid no heed to his astonishment. He simply patted Guo Yunhou lightly on the shoulder and said, in a mild tone:

"We observe that my minister's countenance is haggard and his spirits are scattered — no doubt from over-exertion in the state's service. Yet however weighty the state's affairs, my minister must also look after his own health."

Zhu Youjian paused, then spoke with solemn emphasis.

"My minister, you must take care of yourself. Eat an extra bowl of rice each day. The Great Ming cannot do without you — and neither can We."

Guo Yunhou's lips trembled. He stood frozen a moment, then bowed deeply from the waist. His voice was hoarse but resolute: "Your Majesty's sacred grace is boundless — this subject dares not refuse to give his life!"

Zhu Youjian did not help him up. He simply accepted the bow in silence.

In truth, he did not know whether Guo Yunhou was sincere.

But it did not matter. As the saying went: play the sage your whole life, and even if you are not one, you become one.

An emperor's grace is like a blade — it is never obtained without paying some price.

After this small performance, Zhu Youjian slowly turned around, faced the assembled ministers with their varied expressions, and declared in a ringing voice:

"My ministers — "

"The state's affairs stand thus. Despondency avails nothing!"

At these words, every minister felt a jolt in his heart and unconsciously straightened his back.

The young Emperor let his gaze meet each of these grand officials in turn, then shifted it to Gao Shiming.

"Gao Shiming, bring another new screen."

"Today, We mean to see just how well you ministers wield the blade that carves order in the realm!"