Chapter 31: Filing a Complaint

As more officials became entangled, the commotion grew ever larger. Watching the flood of wealth pouring in, Li Mu felt something big was about to happen.

Past factional struggles aimed only to destroy rivals. From now on, factional struggles would have a new goal—making money!

It was simply too easy to profit. Imprisoned officials had all found wealthy victims to extort, and these fools willingly paid up.

The target set by Marquis Wuyang, Li Mu had originally planned to fulfill at a thirty percent discount.

Leaders always draw bigger pies. Achieving seventy percent in execution is already an outstanding accomplishment.

Now he saw he had been too conservative.

Officials of Great Ming were poor, yet officials of Great Ming were also rich.

The key was knowing whom to target.

This internal strike was a precise lock-on.

The targets chosen were all wealthy households, with incriminating evidence in others’ hands, forcing them to pay to avoid disaster.

…

“Notify the Eastern Depot—send men immediately to collect the money!”

Li Mu ordered with a grave expression.

Gold and silver stir the heart.

Large sums of silver left at the Battalion Command had become a burning coal.

If even a single slip occurred, he could not bear the consequences.

To guard these treasures, five hundred soldiers had been deployed for round-the-clock duty. Li Mu, as Battalion Commander, had not returned to Hou Fu for two straight days, eating and sleeping in the yamen.

“Yes, sir!”

The personal guard finished speaking and turned to leave the room, when Li Mu added:

“Wait!

First send someone to invite Marquis Wuyang—he must be present as witness during the handover.”

For a transaction involving over a million taels, he dared not place his trust in the Eastern Depot’s integrity.

If those eunuchs, gripped by greed, tried to seize everything at once, Li Mu wasn’t sure he could withstand the pressure.

Avoiding risk is always the first rule of officialdom.

With his superior present, if the Eastern Depot grew greedy, the first to confront them would be Marquis Wuyang.

The eunuchs emerging from the palace might turn on noble youths for profit, but they would never dare lay hands on Marquis Wuyang.

If he couldn’t handle the Emperor’s nephew, could he not handle the Empress Dowager’s sister? The prohibition against imperial consorts interfering in state affairs applied only to governance—executing a few eunuchs meant nothing.

Only the top few eunuchs held real weight in Emperor Tianyuan’s eyes. The lower-ranking ones rarely even saw the Emperor; their lives were worthless.

…

Qianqing Palace.

Emperor Tianyuan, feigning illness to avoid affairs, was cornered by cabinet ministers. Spittle flew as they all came to lodge complaints.

Bribes were a tacit rule in officialdom—but never before had anyone made such a public spectacle, nearly laying the transactions bare.

If word got out, it would disgrace the court—but worse, once the Emperor tasted the sweetness, such operations would surely recur at regular intervals.

Then officials would suffer: their hard-earned fortunes, amassed at great risk of ruin, would merely be stored for others.

From the standpoint of the civil official bloc, the cabinet elders must firmly resist and extinguish the Emperor’s notion entirely.

Even the two cabinet elders branded as eunuch faction members now stepped forward to strongly oppose.

This proved how deeply unpopular this scheme was.

In truth, neither the pure stream nor the eunuch faction had strong internal discipline.

They came together only for shared interests; when group interests clashed with personal ones, opposing each other was no surprise.

Fundamentally, they were cooperative, not subordinate.

Especially these cabinet ministers—each had his own base. Even if severed from their original faction, they could still build their own power base.

The chaotic factions in Great Ming’s court had all arisen this way.

Seen together, they appeared as only three forces: eunuch faction, pure stream, and neutrals. But scattered, they formed over a dozen regional political factions.

If further subdivided, these factions spawned countless smaller groups based on closeness and distance.

Sometimes cooperating, sometimes opposing.

Political stance depended entirely on the issue at hand.

To push any matter, one usually had to negotiate privately, securing support from most members of the faction before raising it in court.

The scene where a faction leader gave one order and everyone blindly obeyed was nearly impossible.

If such a scene ever occurred in court, it would mean the imperial succession cycle was about to begin again.

Temporary disagreements on policy were not major matters. As long as the broad direction aligned, they remained allies afterward.

“Are you all tired? Sit down, have some tea before continuing.”

“Zuo Guang’en, why are you standing there? Quickly bring tea for the cabinet elders!”

Emperor Tianyuan’s words left the ministers speechless.

All their efforts had been wasted—the Emperor hadn’t taken a single word to heart.

“Your Majesty, this concerns the very foundation of the state—we must take it seriously!”

Cabinet Minister Pang could not help raising his voice.

Compared to the other four, he was already a victim. Even if others paid, being dragged in against his will was unbearable.

“Zuo Guang’en, you heard that.”

“How can you be so careless in your duties!”

“The cabinet elders have come to block my door—word of this will spread, and the world will call me a foolish ruler.”

“Enough. I won’t blame you entirely.”

“Past matters, I shall not mention again.”

“From now on, you handle it as you see fit.”

Emperor Tianyuan’s response nearly sent Cabinet Minister Pang into a faint.

That’s it?

Even if only for show, he should have at least scolded Zuo Guang’en and fined him several months’ salary as reparation.

The outcome clearly showed Emperor Tianyuan had chosen to brush it off.

The message sent was practically a public commendation to Zuo Guang’en: “Well done!”

“Your Majesty, the court is in turmoil—we must calm the officials’ hearts!”

Chief Minister Song Haidong could not help urging.

The Emperor’s constant disdain for officials was unacceptable.

Had Emperor Tianyuan not skillfully used eunuchs as scapegoats, the conflict between the two sides would have erupted long ago.

His life experience told him this situation, if continued, would inevitably lead to disaster.

“Chief Minister speaks wisely—let this be the last time.”

“Zuo, in your daily duties, consult more with the cabinet elders.”

“Don’t make every decision on your own.”

“Had it not been for the cabinet elders stabilizing the situation, who knows what chaos would have erupted!”

Emperor Tianyuan’s half-hearted reprimand left Song Haidong without any fire.

The Emperor was too clever—this made the Chief Minister’s job unbearable.

The old tricks of moral persuasion no longer worked on him.

Fortunately, he was nearing retirement. As long as he caused no trouble in his final term, the next man could deal with what came after.

“Your Majesty, this servant will learn from this lesson and serve the court with all diligence!”

Zuo Guang’en said, visibly moved.

Just now, Emperor Tianyuan had called him “qing”—perhaps unintentionally, but he had memorized it.

In Great Ming, “qing” was reserved for officials. Its use toward him, a eunuch, was clearly the Emperor’s recognition.

(End of Chapter)