Chapter 3: The Founding Emperor Sends a Dream

Clearly, the Ming dynasty as a state had foundations that were not rotten at all. Not only were they not rotten, they were actually quite sound.

If one used the standards of a later-era finance dog, the Ming dynasty — this company about to suspend its listing — was in fact a company of excellent quality. It possessed products that could dominate the world market for the long term and generate enormous cash flow. And for the foreseeable future, the Ming's products had no competitors whatsoever. PetroChina and Sinopec were not as stable as it; only China Tobacco could compare.

As for the Ming's financial condition, there were short-term difficulties. As Huang Dabao had said, it was all because of a lack of money.

But the Ming's financial condition was better than the vast majority of listed companies in the later Chinese securities market!

Because the Ming court merely lacked operating cash, but it did not owe a single copper coin of debt.

A listed company with not one cent of debt, which also possessed quality products that could monopolize a vast market for the long term and bring in abundant cash flow, had its operating cash dry up merely because of certain sudden events... and that made it rotten to the core?

By that standard, could the Chinese stock market even be kept?

"The Ming's assets are actually this excellent..." Zhu Cilang folded his arms, deeply moved. "Truly worthy of the patrimony left by our ancestors — simply excellent!

But how did such an excellent Ming end up in its present state?"

"Thousand Years..." Huang Dabao, standing at his side, heard Zhu Cilang's words and thought they were addressed to him, so he answered in a low voice, "A few days ago, when His Majesty held court at the Imperial Gate, he said: We are no ruler who lost the realm; all Our ministers are ministers who lost the realm!"

Oh, so now it was not that the roots were rotten, nor that there was no money, but that the ministers were no good?

Zhu Cilang laughed and spat out two words: "Nonsense!"

In his previous life he had also been a scion of the Ming imperial house, so he naturally understood this painful history of the Ming's fall very well. Moreover, he was a financial analyst — the kind especially good at analysis — and one analysis told him that Chongzhen's words were rubbish.

A company is run into the ground, and the big boss bears no responsibility, while all the blame falls on a bunch of wage slaves below? Was that something a human being would say?

Moreover, this Chongzhen, the "ruler who did not lose the realm," had held full power for the seventeen years before the dynasty's fall — so how had he only promoted a batch of realm-losing ministers to office?

Could it be that in the whole Ming realm there truly was not one capable talent?

That too was probably pure rubbish. There were quite a few talents in the late Ming: among the rebels were Li Zicheng and Li Dingguo; among the sea bandits were Zheng Zhilong and Zheng Chenggong; among the traitors were Hong Chengchou, Wu Sangui, Geng Zhongming, Shang Kexi, and so on...

Even on the court's side there were many talents, such as Lu Xiangsheng, Sun Chuanting, and Mao Wenlong. Even Hong Chengchou, Wu Sangui, Geng Zhongming, and Shang Kexi from the traitor ranks, and Li Zicheng from the rebel ranks, had all served under the Chongzhen Emperor. As for the Zheng family sea bandits, they, together with Li Dingguo, became the mainstay of the anti-Qing resistance in the late Ming.

To say there were no talents is nonsense; to say the talents were not used well is closer to the truth!

Of course, corrupt officials certainly existed, and there were plenty of imperial clansmen idling away and waiting to die. In addition, the Ming's taxation did indeed have quite a few problems.

Otherwise it would not have been just over ten million — doubling it would not have been a problem at all!

In the years ruled by the Ming founder, the Ming had an annual revenue of over thirty million... of course, that was not silver, but mainly grain. However, during the Hongwu years the state did not have much silver in circulation either — the silver of the New World had not yet been dug out! It was quite normal that silver could not be collected.

But in the late Ming, the domestic silver stock of the Ming was at least five hundred million taels, yet the court collected only two or three million taels of silver a year (not counting grain) — that was a bit feeble-minded.

Not only feeble-minded, but also hiding a great deal of crookedness!

Based on Zhu Cilang's many years of experience in the financial markets, it was perfectly normal for merchants to be unwilling to pay taxes after making money. But it was highly abnormal for officials to be unwilling to collect taxes. There was only one reasonable explanation for this abnormal phenomenon: the merchants had paid what they owed in full, but it had not flowed into the state treasury. As for where it had gone... heh heh, this matter could hardly stump Zhu Cilang.

His previous-life profession... was it not playing with money? So money was not the problem! But that did not mean there were no difficulties now facing Zhu Cilang.

"There is a way to save it... but We, the Crown Prince, must get out of Beijing before We can display Our abilities?" Zhu Cilang muttered to himself. "Old Ancestor! The time You gave is too tight! And... how do We get out of Beijing? Could You at least give a method?"

"Thousand Years," Huang Dabao suddenly spoke up, "Director Wang has come and wishes to see you."

"Director Wang?" Zhu Cilang asked. "Which one?"

"It is the brush-holding eunuch, Wang Cheng'en, Director of the Eastern Depot!" Huang Dabao said. "A few days ago His Majesty ordered him to take overall command of the inner and outer military camps and concurrently supervise the nine gates... I do not know how he still has time to walk about the palace."

Zhu Cilang slammed the table: "That is the way out the Old Ancestor gave me!"

...

"Huang Dabao, go stand guard outside and send away all idlers."

After Huang Dabao and the attendants had all been dismissed, only Zhu Cilang and Wang Cheng'en remained in the Duanjing Hall of the Duanben Palace.

In the dim lamplight, Zhu Cilang sat upright behind the writing desk, while Wang Cheng'en, dressed in a bright red python robe, stood opposite the desk, a slight smile on his face, looking like a kindly elder watching over a junior.

As for Wang Cheng'en, Zhu Cilang's memory held one very definite assessment — an honest man!

Eunuchs were not all crafty old schemers; even among the great eunuchs there were many simple, honest sorts. Nor should one think that honest eunuchs had no future in the palace — in fact, the masters in the palace all liked honest people. Eunuchs were household slaves; how many masters would like a household slave full of evil schemes?

And Wang Cheng'en, deeply favored by the Chongzhen Emperor, was just such an honest eunuch without strong opinions.

This point was beyond doubt!

Historically, the reason Chongzhen ended up hanging from the crooked-necked tree on Coal Hill was, apart from his own refusal to lose face, precisely because Wang Cheng'en was too honest and did not know to arrange an escape for his master. The master refused to lose face and would not issue an edict to move the capital — could you, a slave, not arrange your master's flight for him?

As a result, when disaster struck, they could not even get out of the city gates!

Had it been Eunuch Wei and the Carpenter Emperor instead, whether they could have captured and killed Li Zicheng is hard to say, but they certainly would not have sat in Beijing waiting to die — they would have fled to Jiangnan long ago to live at ease.

But looking at this Wang Cheng'en, the man the Chongzhen Emperor trusted most, one could probably tell what sort of people this "ruler who was no ruler who lost the realm" — this ruler who did lose the realm — actually employed.

Although Wang Cheng'en was not fit for great responsibilities, if Zhu Cilang wanted to rescue the Ming dynasty, he could not do without his help.

Because without his help, Zhu Cilang would find it hard even to leave the Forbidden City, let alone flee to Jiangnan.

If he could not get out, then in a few more days he would be Li Zicheng's prisoner, and the Ming's quality assets would belong to someone else, with nothing to do with him.

But how was he to persuade the honest eunuch most trusted by the Chongzhen Emperor to help arrange his escape?

Just as Zhu Cilang was at a loss for how to begin, "Honest Wang" spoke up on his own and solved the problem for him.

"Thousand Years, this old slave heard from Divine Physician Zeng that your sleeping for a day and a night was no illness, but rather the Old Ancestor sending you a dream. Is this true?"

A dream sent by the ancestor! Zhu Cilang caught on instantly and immediately had a plan.

In his previous life he had been a veteran practitioner who had struggled in the financial industry for over a decade; apart from analytical skills, bluffing and resisting bluffing were also essential abilities.

In the later-era Lujiazui financial grunt circles he had a nickname, "Pig Can Fly" — even a pig, he could blow it up into the sky. His bluffing skills were far inferior to great bluffers like "Fake Medicine Ting," but to bluff one "Honest Wang" — what problem could there be?

(End of Chapter)