Chapter 112

With the spread of the news about cutting redundant officials, countless officials became busy, and for a time, the gates of all important ministers became lively.

At the beginning of the Great Dayu Dynasty, the total number of civil and military officials was no more than 20,000.

Developing to the present, the number of civil officials alone exceeded 50,000, and with military officers, it directly broke the 100,000 mark.

Because of the increase in the number of government offices or the increase in departmental workload, about 10,000 positions were added.

This increase in officials was the result of the continuous strengthening of imperial power.

Theoretically, the Great Dayu Dynasty only needed 40,000 officials to ensure the operation of the institutions well.

Compared to the existing number of officials, the degree of personnel bloating is imaginable.

Hearing that the court was going to lay off people, few officials in idle departments were not panicked.

Not going to the government office for a year or six months didn't affect the operation of the department.

If they weren't considered redundant officials, then there were no redundant officials in the world.

Considering it from the perspective of the big picture, as long as the layoffs didn't fall on their own heads, everyone supported it.

The cabinet's plan was good, but in the process of specific execution, the situation changed.

The Great Dayu was ultimately a society of human relationships; officials in the capital received the news first and carried out activities in advance.

There were people asking for favors everywhere, and apart from persuading dozens of elderly officials to retire, the layoff plan set by the cabinet encountered obstacles as soon as it began to be implemented in the capital.

The cabinet's layoff plan encountered obstacles as soon as it began to be implemented in the capital.

There are policies above and countermeasures below.

What the court wanted to cut were redundant officials; as long as one made oneself not a redundant official, it would be fine.

Communicate with superiors and refine the division of power within the government office.

If everyone who was idle had something to do, then the problem of redundant officials would cease to exist.

Make the process more complicated, and even cold government offices could be busy every day.

The ones who really worked were still those people, and the increased workload was mainly responsible for picking faults on the side.

In order to keep their official positions, those officials who didn't go to the government office in normal times also lived a life of leaving early and returning late every day.

For a time, government offices of all sizes in the capital were busy; regardless of whether they were busy for nothing, at least no idle people could be found in the government offices.

It looked like a scene of vitality, only the officials who did the work suffered.

With a group of ancestors pointing fingers on the side, the already low work efficiency became even more sluggish.

Layoffs in the capital were blocked, but the tasks assigned by the cabinet still had to be completed by the Ministry of Personnel.

The Great Dayu Dynasty had more than 160 prefectures, more than 200 departments, and more than 1,000 counties; if each of these prefectures, departments, and counties cut one official, the cabinet's task would be over-fulfilled.

However, theory is ultimately just theory; no one was willing to do a job that offended people.

No one wanted to stand on the opposite side of the bureaucratic group; collective responsibility was equivalent to no one bearing responsibility.

Yangzhou Prefecture.

The clamorous incident of cutting redundant officials spread from the center to the local areas, and Yangzhou was also affected.

As a prefecture baptized by the flames of war, Yangzhou didn't have the problem of redundant officials, but it couldn't withstand the sharp increase in the number of officials applying to be transferred here.

Everyone knew that this fire burned by the cabinet would definitely make someone unlucky.

Unable to continue muddling along, officials with connections sought real positions one after another to avoid becoming unlucky ones.

Yangzhou Prefecture, which was severely understaffed, was filled with personnel for the first time.

The prefectural office was like this, and the Yangzhou Battalion was no exception.

Generally speaking, the uncertainty of a newly formed battalion like the Yangzhou Battalion was too high.

Added to a strong superior, everyone knew there was no oil to rake in, so very few military officers were interested.

Except for a few old subordinates from the Five Cities Military Commission who had a good relationship with him and chose to stay and develop, most military officer positions were vacant.

Li Mu had never applied to the court to fill the vacant military officer positions because he wanted to use the time difference to cultivate as many confidants as possible.

Unfortunately, plans could not keep up with changes; personnel appointments in the military also had to follow rules.

Rising to the sky in one step was a very small minority; more were climbing up step by step from the bottom.

Even with the credit of pacifying the rebellion, the confidants under his command were only inserted into the positions of squad leaders and platoon leaders.

Originally, he had planned to promote the promising ones among them to acting company commanders after a year or two, and then have them handle military affairs as acting company commanders.

Moving up to the mid-level military officer sequence, the court's management of personnel appointments became strict.

As an Assistant Regional Commander, Li Mu only had the right to recommend, and it still required approval from the Ministry of War or the Grand Commander's Office.

After becoming a company commander, it was almost the ceiling for ordinary people.

To continue moving up, one either had to come from a noble background or win military merit on the battlefield.

Being the first to scale the walls, beheading generals, breaking through formations, or seizing flags—one had to achieve at least one.

The sudden change filled the vacancies in the military all at once, directly shattering Li Mu's painstaking planning.

What kind of impact a group of generals with unknown abilities would have on the Yangzhou Battalion, no one could say clearly.

Being dissatisfied was useless; the Yangzhou Battalion was the court's army, not his personal army.

"Mr. Lan, the court inserting so many people here all at once, I'm afraid it will affect command!"

Li Mu hinted obscurely.

Generally speaking, this kind of job of dealing with people was the responsibility of the dog-headed strategist.

As a commander, personally going down to squeeze out subordinates seemed too petty.

"My Lord, it is not advisable to act rashly at this time.

Most of those who can be transferred here at this time have some connections.

Perhaps before long, someone will come to greet you.

Acting rashly to squeeze people out will easily offend the people behind them; it is better to wait and see.

For those who like to muddle along, let them continue to muddle along, and arrange for others to handle military affairs in their stead.

For those with ideals and ambitions, use them for the time being.

Use those with ability heavily, and use those without ability cautiously.

The money and grain are in your hands, and the soldiers were recruited and trained by you; a few outsiders can't stir up big waves.

If they look pleasing to the eye, keep them and use them for a few more years; if they look unpleasant, wait two or three years and recommend them for promotion and departure.

This will neither offend people nor affect your control over the army."

Lan Lan Linjie persuaded tactfully.

He was truly not good at dealing with people, especially squeezing out a group of imperial officials, which was full of risks.

The military also had laws and regulations; in the absence of major mistakes, the commander could not deal with a general for no reason.

Essentially, the court transferring generals from outside had the meaning of power balance.

"Forget it, let's do it this way for now!"

Li Mu said helplessly.

There was a lack of talent under his command, and no one could shoulder the heavy responsibility.

The only one who could barely be seen was this private secretary.

However, Mr. Lan's main talent was in handling internal affairs, and he was not good at devising strategies.

The group of direct descendants he cultivated were all rough men with well-developed limbs and simple minds.

Letting them fight and hack people was barely okay, but devising strategies was not something to embarrass them with.

Within the next year, if they could learn all the common Chinese characters, that would be considered having strong enterprising spirit.

The truly top-notch talents were either in officialdom or on the way to entering officialdom.

Li Mu had tried to recruit, but finally found embarrassingly that those who came to apply were all down-and-out scholars.

Influenced by the era, the lower the reader, the more severely poisoned they were by the Four Books and Five Classics.

Their thoughts were locked in a cage, and their perspective on problems was very limited.

Unless this cognition could be broken, no matter how high their talent, their growth space would be very limited.

Decades of inherent cognition were clearly not something that could be broken in a few words; he could only explore slowly by himself.

Troubled times produce talents; the biggest reason is that the traditional order collapses, everyone's inherent cognition is broken, and the thoughts bound by the ruling group are released.

The small episode ended, and Li Mu once again devoted his energy to military training.

He had already thought it through: if the newly appointed military officers were obedient, that was fine; if they were restless, then he would carry out "key cultivation."

Training according to the most stringent standards, he didn't believe those guys who were used to being pampered could stand the tossing.

On top of Xiaocang Mountain.

Today was a good day for harvest; after processing through multiple procedures, the first batch of copper was officially smelted.

Looking at the copper ingots before him, Li Mu revealed a long-lost smile.

Copper smelting technology had been born for thousands of years, and by the Great Dayu Dynasty, the craftsmanship was relatively mature.

Copper was smelted out, and the next step was just to process it into copper coins, and the whole set of procedures would be completed.

Although the court strictly prohibited private casting of copper coins by the people, these decrees had long existed in name only.

Developing to the present, the main force of casting copper coins was no longer the government, but the scholar-officials in various places.

The flood of private money triggered bad money driving out good money.

This led to a sharp decrease in the court's coinage revenue, and the government-run coinage office even suffered losses.

To make up for the deficit, the quality of official money cast by the court also declined.

Under the vicious cycle, the coinage industry of the Great Dayu Dynasty became a mess.

Everything was a disaster caused by interests; copper coin casting technology was too simple, and the profits were too generous.

Compared to selling copper directly, after casting it into coins, the net profit increased by at least 50%.

"How many catties of copper can this copper mine produce per month?"

Li Mu asked with concern.

"Replying to the Lord, according to the current progress, it can smelt about 5,000 catties of copper per month.

If the mining scale is expanded later, the output can be expanded a bit more."

Hearing the craftsman's answer, Li Mu was stunned on the spot.

Although he had expectations in his heart and knew that copper output was low, he hadn't expected it to be this low.

A monthly output of 5,000 catties, not 5,000 tons; he even doubted if something was wrong with his ears.

According to the Great Dayu Dynasty's official coinage regulations, one catty of copper could produce 160 copper coins, and casting private money on the market could produce about 200 coins.

5,000 catties of copper could only produce 800,000 to 1,000,000 copper coins, equivalent to 800 to 1,000 taels of silver.

When the financial resources are abundant, I will also learn from the border troops and try to build artillery myself."

The problem was that this was just the output value; after deducting production costs, the net profit was probably only 500 or 600 taels.

Profiteering is profiteering, but this production capacity was too touching.

Relying on the copper mine to get rich overnight was clearly not something to count on.

"Well done, strive to make persistent efforts to increase production capacity.

Each craftsman will receive a reward of one tael of silver, and the old master will receive two taels.

From now on, everyone's treatment, in addition to the basic monthly salary, will have an additional production capacity bonus.

For every doubling of production capacity, everyone's income will increase by 20%."

Li Mu then started drawing small cakes.

The current profiteering was based on the premise of free labor.

If labor costs were calculated, the mine's revenue would shrink significantly.

With low revenue, the treatment naturally couldn't be very good.

Of course, it was more because the current production capacity base was too low, and the growth space was really too large.

Not to mention doubling production capacity, even if production capacity grew ten times or a hundred times, it was very possible.

If it weren't for the Great Dayu Dynasty's lack of copper, this small-scale mining would have no competitiveness at all.

"Thank you, Lord, for the reward!"

The old man hurriedly kowtowed in thanks.

(End of chapter)