Chapter 50: Young Zhu and Old Guo

A new screen was carried in, covered with a huge sheet of white ledger paper.

Zhu Youjian picked up the vermilion brush and personally wrote down two current debt items:

"The late Emperor's mausoleum: one million taels."

"Arrears in pay on the Nine Frontiers: 9,680,000 taels."

At this point he paused and turned his gaze toward Guo Yunhou.

"Minister Guo, what is the state of the Liaodong levy? Does it need to be listed and discussed together?"

Guo Yunhou replied:

"Reporting to Your Majesty, the Liaodong levy is fixed at 5,200,000 taels."

"Since the She-An Rebellion, the Liaodong levy from Huguang, Yunnan, Guizhou, Sichuan, and other regions is no longer forwarded to the the the Taicang treasury treasury treasury in the capital, but is diverted on the spot for suppressing the rebellion."

He paused, his voice dropping a shade lower:

"The remaining provinces total 3,640,000 taels. This year, the amount actually delivered to the the the Taicang treasury treasury treasury was only 2,500,000 taels."

Zhu Youjian's brow furrowed.

He recalled his own Gold Flower Silver — one million taels, of which only eight hundred thousand had actually reached his hands!

"Are all the provinces in arrears?"

Guo Yunhou cast a discreet glance at Minister of Rites Lai Zongdao and Shi Fenglai — the only two high officials in the hall today of Zhejiang origin.

He gritted his teeth; in the end he dared not, and had no wish to, deceive his sovereign, and spoke the truth: "In reply to Your Majesty, Zhejiang has the largest arrears, followed by Jiangxi and Shaanxi."

Zhejiang, Jiangxi… those two places again! Their home provinces produced many jinshi, so the localities had the central government to lean on, and their nerve grew bold accordingly.

But how was it that South Zhili, for once, had not defaulted?

Thoughts whirled through Zhu Youjian's mind. Unable to figure out the crux for the moment, he decided to ask Gao Shiming after court.

On the surface this was a matter of tax arrears, but if you dug deeper, it touched on the quota of examination degrees, the economic weight of each province, the factional alignments at court, local governance, and the landlord class.

This was not something his current authority and strength could lay bare, so he could only set it aside for now.

Zhu Youjian put on an air of indifference. "Then how much of this year's Liaodong levy is still outstanding?"

"Your Majesty need not worry," Guo Yunhou answered. "In recent years the Liaodong levy has been the realm's first priority. This year's levy has already been forwarded in full to Liaodong."

Zhu Youjian could not help but breathe a secret sigh of relief. He nodded and said:

"Good. Then let us tackle them one by one — the easy ones first, the hard ones later."

His gaze shifted to the Minister of Works, Xue Fengxiang.

"Minister Xue, what is the construction timeline for the late Emperor's mausoleum?"

Xue Fengxiang's heart gave a thump. He had already vaguely guessed the Emperor's line of thought, but when questioned before the throne, he could not refuse to answer.

He stepped forward from the ranks, his voice dry: "In reply to Your Majesty, if it is to be… perfect in every way, I fear it will take more than five years."

"More than five years?" Zhu Youjian nodded. "Then this one million taels of silver cannot possibly be spent entirely in the first year, can it?"

"No…" Sweat was already beading on Xue Fengxiang's forehead.

Hearing this answer, Zhu Youjian frowned, his face full of puzzlement.

"Then why did you demand one million taels in a single sum?"

"I may be young, but I imagine that even when a landlord hires laborers to harvest wheat, he settles accounts day by day, does he not?"

"Can it be that the august Ministry of Works of the Great Ming settles accounts only once every five years?"

Xue Fengxiang was so cornered by these words that his face flushed scarlet, and his heart was filled with the bitterest regret.

"This subject is dull-witted. It is indeed as Your Majesty says."

"To begin work on the mausoleum, timber, bricks, and stone must first be prepared, so the first year will cost somewhat more, but not to the tune of a million."

"This subject will discuss it with his colleagues upon returning and will certainly report an accurate figure."

Zhu Youjian nodded and said, "Apart from paying in installments, is there any other method?"

Xue Fengxiang's mind raced, but he could think of nothing in the short time allowed.

In the autumn hall, though a cool breeze clearly wafted through, he felt as if he had been cast into a steamer, sweat pouring out like broth.

Zhu Youjian watched his wretched state, gave a soft sigh, and only then spoke to prompt him.

"Minister Xue, have you perhaps forgotten the traitor Wei's living shrines spread across the land?"

"I have heard that the shrines in every locality are magnificent and opulent, each costing no less than ten thousand in gold."

"I shall assign all these living shrines to you. Send men to inspect each shrine for any large timbers that can be used. If they are insufficient, then sell them off for silver."

"When the time comes, submit the accounts, and we can discuss whatever shortfall remains."

Xue Fengxiang was left speechless and could only mumble his assent.

Having done a little papering over, Zhu Youjian turned his gaze back to the day's main topic — the old arrears on the Nine Frontiers.

The 9,680,000 taels written in vermilion brush, the characters fresh and red as blood, like a hideous, gaping wound.

This was the truly deadly problem…

To a modern mind, what damned mausoleum needed a million taels!

A hundred years from now, just burn the body and scatter the ashes into the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers — clean, hygienic, and grand!

A pity that he had only just ascended the throne, his wings not yet grown, his footing unsteady.

He could only obediently pay for the mausoleum; otherwise the great hat of unfiliality would be clapped onto his head, and he would instantly be drowned by the spittle of those civil officials.

When that time came, even these eunuch-faction men would indignantly pose as incorruptible purists and take pride in receiving a court flogging.

An opportunity to earn a name in the histories without having to do any real work was not something that came along every day.

But the pay arrears on the Nine Frontiers were different.

If this problem could not be solved, and then next year the great drought in Guanzhong was added on top of it… that single spark would truly be able to set the whole prairie ablaze.

He drew a deep breath and once again looked toward the Minister of Revenue, Guo Yunhou.

"The old arrears on the nine-border pay are enormous. My minister… do you have any good counsel for me?"

Guo Yunhou cupped his hands in salute, his old face wrinkling like a bitter gourd.

"This subject does have a few papering-over methods, but I dare not call them good counsel, still less a way to govern the realm."

Zhu Youjian neither agreed nor disagreed; he simply watched him quietly, waiting for what came next.

"The first is the method of 'repaying the new while dragging out the old.'" Guo Yunhou began. "At each of the nine-border garrisons, military pay is broadly divided into two portions. Half is the 'civil transport' — funds raised and shipped by the local authorities themselves. The other half is the 'capital transport' — funds disbursed from the capital."

"That the capital-transport pay falls into arrears year after year is already the normal state of affairs. But that does not mean the garrison troops at the borders receive not a single copper cash."

"Relying solely on the silver and rations from the civil transport, the troops can barely keep themselves fed. It is just that their days are passed… in considerable hardship."

"The usual practice, therefore, is this: so long as the court can issue half a year's — no, even just three or four months' — worth of the old capital-transport arrears, the border troops' resentment can be eased somewhat, and morale can be barely steadied."

At this point he paused, and a note of helplessness crept into his voice.

"So in truth, the greater part of these 9,680,000 taels consists of… old arrears accumulated over many years."

"To put it bluntly, since they have been owed for so many years, being owed them is simply… owed."

He spoke these last few words indistinctly, his voice so low it was barely audible, his old face flushing scarlet.

Wait!

Zhu Youjian suddenly recalled something…

The night before the first court assembly — Governor Hu Tingyan of Shaanxi's routine memorial!

It was filled top to bottom with accounts of military pay in arrears for two or three years, five or six years, across various parts of Shaanxi.

And the moment he saw it was Shaanxi, he had reacted on pure reflex.

It had never occurred to him that those figures were all notional, all stale old accounts!

And so the very next day he had brandished that memorial and exploded in the assembly.

He had even declared with absolute certainty — why was there no advance warning, why was there no comprehensive tally…

And now Guo Yunhou, in just three days, had laid out the capital-border silver regulations with perfect clarity — which showed the man had long had all this worked out in his head.

So at the time, the way those people looked at him — wasn't it exactly the way one looks at a fool?

Damn it. Not even a week since the transmigration, and he had already died a social death on the spot…

Zhu Youjian stood rooted to the spot, his own face flushing crimson before he knew it, his big toe digging hard into the sole of his boot.

For a moment, young Zhu and old Guo, both of them bright red in the face, made a sight that was each amusing in its own way.