Chapter 360: Political Influence

“Fifth Brother, stop hesitating!”

“Qin Tianrui has retaken Yangzhou City; the merit aristocracy has mobilized all at once, aiming to seize Nanjing in one bold push.”

“Since the great war began, they’ve advanced steadily while we’ve been dawdling here.”

“If this drags on, the court officials will think our Liaodong Army is all show and no substance.”

Shi Jingzhong spoke with bitter indignation.

Though we are also military families, our Nine Borders generals still pale beside the merit aristocracy’s sons.

They fight on the frontier, yet their promotions can’t even match those earned suppressing rebellions inland.

Because we’ve failed to take Xuzhou Prefecture, outsiders now doubt Liaodong Garrison’s strength.

Many civil officials, lacking basic military knowledge, judge strength solely by battlefield results, believing our troops are inferior to the Two Guangs’ Six Garrisons.

If we don’t act soon, within the court, even Jiangxi’s troops will be seen as more formidable than ours.

The excuse is ready: Jiangxi’s First Garrison took Yangzhou alone, while we can’t even crush the rebels in Xuzhou.

Explanations are meaningless—only those who understand warfare know how hard it is to take Xuzhou.

The Emperor and his ministers only care about victory; they don’t care how it was won.

Once this perception becomes consensus, all the privileges Liaodong Garrison now enjoys will vanish.

In the future, negotiating with the court will become exponentially harder.

“Old Nine, you’re past your prime—how can you still be so reckless!”

“We must join the effort to retake Nanjing.”

“But Liaodong Garrison is weak in naval warfare; all southern provincial navies are under merit aristocracy control.”

“To cross the river, we must secure their support.”

“The rebels are on their last legs; the court’s victory is merely a matter of time.”

“All the hard fighting so far has been done by the merit aristocracy.”

“Now it’s time to reap the rewards—why should they let us join in?”

“Besides, to participate in retaking Nanjing, we must first capture Xuzhou, so the main army can advance south with confidence.”

Shi Jinglin immediately rebuked him.

Military merit—except for Li Mu, no one ever has too much.

The merit aristocracy’s big shots aren’t short on merit, but their subordinates are desperate for it.

So many merit aristocracy sons are counting on the glory of retaking Nanjing to secure titles and fortunes for their families.

If we join, we’re just here to split the cake.

Liaodong Garrison’s combat strength is formidable—only in the north.

In the southern waterlands, our ten points of combat power drop to five or six at best.

Xuzhou Prefecture itself is another obstacle.

Earlier, we planned to seize Huaiyang after capturing Xuzhou, turning it into our base and extracting heavy wealth from the region.

But the rebels knew Xuzhou’s importance and deployed massive forces to defend the city.

To take Xuzhou quickly, we’ve even dragged in Shandong and Henan’s imperial troops to storm the walls.

We’ve paid a terrible price—and still haven’t taken the city.

“Fifth Brother, you’re too cautious.”

“Xuzhou was hard to take before—doesn’t mean it’s hard now.”

“After losing Yangzhou, southern provincial troops have landed directly on Huai and Yang via sea.”

“All prefectures north of the Yangtze and south of the Huai River are lost to the rebels.”

“With those prefectures gone, Xuzhou is an isolated city—holding it is pointless.”

“If the merit aristocracy provides supplies, we can bypass Xuzhou entirely and join the battle to retake Nanjing!”

“It’s all about conditions on their end.”

“We’re all military men—they need our support to resist the civil officials.”

“Though I don’t believe the merit aristocracy can overpower the civil officials in court, that doesn’t stop me from supporting them.”

“The merit aristocracy taking the lead against the civil officials benefits us too.”

“If military officers can unite—even just on a few issues—they can play a vital role.”

Shi Jingzhong spoke with bitter indignation.

In the Great Yu Dynasty, military officers must learn to play politics.

In the past, Shi Jingzhong often played the brute—but that was just for show.

The Shi family dominates Liaodong; if all its members were both scholarly and martial, the court and the Emperor wouldn’t sleep a wink.

In terms of troop control, Liaodong is far tighter than the Two Guangs.

Li Mu’s Two Guangs, by contrast, are nothing but a grand alliance of merit aristocrats.

They grew rapidly only because of merit aristocracy backing.

The sheer number of senior generals they produced came from behind-the-scenes maneuvering by their patrons.

Li Mu’s role was more like a teacher guiding students—once graduated, they scattered.

Externally, they appear united; internally, they’re split into multiple factions.

Almost every old merit family has its own little fiefdom.

These small and large fiefdoms can all speak directly to the Emperor.

The merit aristocracy’s top leaders rotate among families; if one grows too dominant, the Emperor arranges political marriages.

He marries a royal princess to them, then uses the excuse that imperial clans must not interfere in politics to cut off the heir’s career.

If a family has many talented sons, he marries more princesses to them.

If the Emperor’s daughters aren’t enough, he uses daughters of regional princes.

After the marriage, the family voluntarily surrenders military power—this is the unspoken understanding.

With this ready-made method from the ancestors, the Emperor’s fear of the merit aristocracy is relatively less.

Most major merit families trace their lineage back to marriages with the imperial house.

Liaodong Garrison is different: all key military appointments are handled entirely by the Shi family.

The upper echelons of the army are almost entirely monopolized by them.

Such a system makes it impossible for the court not to fear them.

At the Shi family’s level of power, stepping back means a precipice—only forward is possible.

“Enough!”

“If you want to try, send someone to contact the merit aristocrats and see if they’re sincere.”

“Before that, we must capture Xuzhou Prefecture and prove our strength.”

“Issue orders: at all costs, take Xuzhou City within five days!”

Shi Jinglin said with a sigh of resignation.

The merit aristocrats won’t cooperate with us—if they’re not fools.

Even if they did cooperate, it would be through tacit understanding, not direct contact.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard and Eastern Depot may have weakened, but they’re not dead—they still gather intelligence.

If the Emperor learns the two largest armed factions in the realm have merged, it will be a catastrophe.

He knew there was no real chance—but he couldn’t refuse.

Shi Jingzhong’s words reflected the views of a large portion of the clan.

Only a very few saw the true nature of the matter.

…

The capital.

“Excellent!”

“Qin Tianrui is truly a pillar of the state!”

“Issue an edict: promote Qin Tianrui to General Who Stabilizes the Nation; reward: one top-grade warhorse, one hundred taels of gold, fifty bolts of silk…”

Holding the victory report, Emperor Yongning beamed and immediately granted the rewards.

Had reason not prevailed, he nearly ordered Qin Tianrui to inherit the title of Duke of Xingguo.

By convention, with Qin Tianrui’s achievements, he was fully qualified to inherit the hereditary title.

But qualification doesn’t mean entitlement.

A dukedom at this level, given to a powerful general, means another top-tier merit aristocrat is born.

In recent years, the merit aristocracy has grown rapidly—he, as Emperor, must consider power balance.

Supporting the merit aristocracy to counter civil officials may have been sincere under the former Emperor, but for Yongning, it’s merely a tool to intimidate the civil bureaucracy.

If he truly lifted up the merit aristocracy, his own suspicious nature would keep him from sleeping soundly.

If possible, he’d rather create a new title for Qin Tianrui than let him inherit the Duke of Xingguo title.

Clearly, that’s impossible.

Under Great Yu’s strict peerage system, with Qin Tianrui’s current merits, he can only receive a lifetime title.

Compared to a hereditary founding-duke title, the difference is countless tiers.

Doing so won’t win loyalty—it will push him into opposition.

“The Emperor’s wrath and grace are both benevolent”—that’s only for fools.

After years as emperor, he knew very well that those beneath him were not saints.

If Qin Tianrui’s chance of inheriting the Marquisate of Xingguo were truly cut off, this general loyal to Great Danyu would become a destabilizing element.

Great Danyu faces internal strife and external threats; now is the time to use capable men.

To destroy one’s own defenses at this moment is not the act of a wise ruler.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty, on gaining a fine general!”

“With Yangzhou Prefecture recovered, the rebels’ good days are over.”

It won’t be long before news of Nanjing’s recapture arrives.

…

Chief Minister Wan Junhui led the applause.

In the past, when such things happened, the censors would have already launched into furious denunciations.

Today’s situation is special; everyone’s mood is exceptionally good.

The rebel forces have been struck a heavy blow; the once perilous Great Danyu regime has suddenly turned from crisis to safety.

For everyone, this meant they no longer needed to consider switching allegiances.

In theory, civil officials and gentry could still serve under a new ruler.

But everyone knew that dynastic change came at a terrible cost.

Throughout human history, over ninety percent of officials from the old regime never lived to see the new dynasty established.

More than merely misjudging the winning side, many officials were killed before they even had a chance to re-bet.

A dynastic revolution does not merely overthrow the former emperor—it also dismantles the entrenched interest groups.

Those who risked execution of their entire clans to join the rebellion did not do so for nothing.

Without eliminating the entrenched interest groups, what would you use to reward those who served with merit?

Private complaints aside, serving in Great Danyu’s bureaucracy was still very comfortable.

“Hahaha…”

“The Chief Minister speaks truly: while submitting the victory report, Marquis Wuyang also submitted his next campaign plan.

According to his plan, the army will concentrate its forces to fully recapture Nanjingcheng.

I find it excellent and will support it.

The only issue is that prolonged warfare has placed enormous financial strain on all provinces.

Ministry of Revenue, how much grain and funds can you spare to support the recapture of Nanjing?”

Emperor Yongning asked with concern.

Great Danyu’s greatest problem was its finances; all current issues revolved around them.

If the court had sufficient grain and funds, there would never have been so many rebels.

“Your Majesty, the Ministry of Revenue has always been strapped for cash.

The autumn taxes just collected have been used immediately to plug the holes.

The imperial treasury is now empty…”

Pang Chengjie instinctively chose to plead poverty.

Of course, the Ministry of Revenue was genuinely broke.

The court owed countless debts; creditors were all watching the Ministry, leaving no money in the treasury.

Even collecting taxes for another ten years would not repay the old debts.

To balance the books, the Ministry had no choice but to use paper money—worthless as scrap paper—as filler.

Yet these worthless notes could pay officials, imperial clan members, and nobles their stipends, but could not pay soldiers’ wages.

Since Great Danyu’s founding, inflation had multiplied many times over, yet soldiers’ pay had never increased and was often withheld.

If even this final lifeline of wages were paid in paper money,

the notes would be issued in the morning and mutiny would break out by afternoon; by the next day, banners reading “Clear the Court of Corrupt Ministers” would fly from the city walls.

It had nothing to do with loyalty or righteousness—it was simply that soldiers needed to survive.

If you leave them no way to live, then everyone goes to hell together.

“Enough!”

“I don’t want to hear these old excuses.

If you have no grain or funds, find a way to raise them.

Should everything fall to me? What good is a Minister of Revenue if not to act?

The Grand Secretariat must also get involved—ensure a sum of military pay is raised.”

Emperor Yongning said irritably.

Every time his mood improved, something would inevitably spoil it.

In suppressing the Bai Lian rebellion, Great Danyu had only provided funds, grain, and troops in the early stages.

Once the imperial treasury was drained and the late emperor’s private vault emptied, the suppression forces had to rely on local administrations to raise their own supplies.

Though southern provinces were wealthy, they had all been ravaged by rebels and suffered heavy losses.

The newly recovered prefectures and counties had not yet had time to restore production.

Under these circumstances, the suppression army demanding funds from the court should at least receive some token support.

“Your Majesty, please calm down!”

“It’s not that Minister Pang is evading responsibility—the Ministry of Revenue truly faces hardship.

The court’s debts are too great; creditors are all watching the Ministry, leaving no money in the treasury…”

…

Gu Jiaxi hurried to speak in defense.

As a Grand Secretary, he had little personal connection with Pang Chengjie; his plea was purely for the public good.

Replacing the Minister of Revenue was easy; the hard part was the mess left behind—no one wanted to clean it up.

Pang Chengjie, though stingy, had managed to keep things going.

If a new Minister were appointed without this frugal, prudent ability, the situation would only worsen.

“Your Majesty, Grand Secretary Gu speaks wisely—this cannot be blamed entirely on Minister Pang.

The Ministry of Revenue truly struggles; to…”

Wan Junhui joined in to explain.

Over the past year, he had endured immense pressure, and his health had deteriorated sharply.

He had already submitted his resignation; he only awaited the emperor’s approval to leave the storm and retire to his hometown.

At this critical moment, if the Ministry of Revenue collapsed, he as Chief Minister would not escape unscathed.

“Hmph!”

“Don’t whine here. The Ministry of Revenue manages the empire’s grain and funds—it must fulfill its duty.

I can wait, but the frontline troops cannot.

I give you three more days—show me results.”

Emperor Yongning ordered coldly.

The battle for Nanjingcheng was about to begin—the very moment when morale must be lifted; the court must demonstrate its support.

…

(End of Chapter)