Chapter 136: Scheming

Qin Liangyu's Sichuan army held down Hanzhong, sealing the critical pass through which the bandits of Shaanxi could enter Sichuan via the plank road, and stood ready to march north to support Fengxiang Prefecture at any moment.

Currently stationed around Fengxiang were the brave general Cao Wenzhao and his nephew Cao Bianjiao. The two led three thousand men in a bitter struggle against several bands of roving bandits under Ma Jinzhong, Hun Tianwang, and others, and the two sides were at a stalemate. The main reason was that Ma Jinzhong's men were mostly cavalry, while the government troops were few in number, with only Cao Bianjiao's five hundred as their entire mounted force. The government troops fought mainly on the defensive, while the adventure-loving Cao Bianjiao took his cavalry out seeking opportunities for surprise attacks.

The greatest achievement of Sun Chuanting's military farmland was that it enormously lightened the burden on the court, on the local officials of northern Shaanxi, and on the common people.

Setting aside the soldiers' pay, the mere grain consumed by the government troops was a staggering figure. The court constantly had to expend vast amounts of manpower and resources, taking grain shipped by canal from the south to the capital, then organizing transport teams of several thousand men to haul it by cart and shoulder pole all the way to Shaanxi.

Thinking of that spectacular scene, Chongzhen rather admired these court officials.

On this point alone, you couldn't curse them out and dismiss them as utterly worthless.

Because Shaanxi had suffered drought for years on end, most fields had failed to produce harvests year after year, and it was impossible for the government troops to levy grain locally. If there had been grain, would the common people have rebelled?

So organizing men and supplies from the capital to transport to Shaanxi became the only channel.

Each time one or several thousand conscript laborers transported grain over a distance of nearly two thousand li—just think how much those laborers themselves consumed? Because they were double-counted—they had to go and also come back.

All of this had to be calculated in meticulous detail by the officials of the Ministry of War, the Ministry of Revenue, and Shuntian Prefecture: the number of government troops, the number of laborers, how much grain each person consumed per day, how much fodder the war horses and pack horses needed, how many days' worth of consumption the grain could supply once delivered—and they also had to factor in a margin for losses, such as carts overturning, encountering floods, things falling into rivers, and other such accidents.

Don't forget this wasn't a one-time problem; in recent years it had to be repeated several times annually. In this era of extremely backward roads and transport, this was absolutely a remarkable feat. The History of Ming was written by the Manchus, so naturally they concealed the good things about the Great Ming and magnified its flaws without limit. If things were truly as the History of Ming described—the emperor rash and suspicious, the court officials caring only for private gain—the Great Ming would have collapsed long ago.

The reason Chongzhen could still hold on for seventeen years was precisely because there were still many obscure officials quietly doing real work. Though they too embezzled and used their positions for private gain, on matters of principle they truly had no stain.

Self-interest is human nature. Chongzhen had never expected others to give without seeking return. Reward merit, punish fault—as long as one upheld clear rewards and punishments, most problems could be solved.

Because Shaanxi's situation was exceptional, with only a handful of prefectures and counties untouched by war, the court had no choice but to reduce Shaanxi's taxes for several consecutive years. It couldn't not reduce them—in many places the grain levies simply couldn't be collected. Better to make a show of it, telling the gentry and commoners of other provinces: see that? The court cares for its people, knows of Shaanxi's great drought and the people's hardship, and has directly waived the grain levies.

The grain harvested from the military farmland of Xi'an Prefecture could directly supply the army's needs, eliminating the enormous consumption and waste caused by long-distance transport—this was equivalent to paying taxes to the court.

On this point alone, even if Sun Chuanting never captured Gao Yingxiang, he had already rendered great merit.

Thinking of this, Chongzhen again felt somewhat sorry for this stalwart. The man had solved a great difficulty that had plagued the court for years—and he only gave him this paltry reward?

No, he had to add more.

An hour later, several members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard galloped off bearing a personal edict written by Chongzhen to Daizhou in Shanxi. The edict's content was to have Sun Chuanting's son Sun Kedi enter the Imperial Academy to study. After delivering the edict, the men would escort Sun Kedi back to the capital together.

This was more of a gesture, to let Sun Chuanting understand: your son's future is now secure—so go fight your heart out at the front.

Chongzhen's position was now quite secure. Many destabilizing factors had been eliminated one by one. In his hands he held both a powerful army under complete control and an organization capable of probing officialdom and public sentiment—he need not fear being sidelined by court officials or finding himself unable to command anyone.

The late Chongzhen era in history was quite miserable. Li Zicheng's army besieged the capital, and in desperation Chongzhen finally set aside his face and pride, wanting to leave a path of survival for his own children. So he found Imperial Son-in-law Gong Yonggu, asking this loyal brother-in-law of his to take the Crown Prince and Prince Ding to Nanjing, to prolong the Great Ming's dynastic line.

But Gong Yonggu told him very frankly that he had no men available, only a single household servant—escaping to Nanjing with the Crown Prince was simply impossible.

Think about it: if a sovereign had usable men at his disposal, why would he have sought out Gong Yonggu?

And a noble of merit like Gong Yonggu likewise had no men!

Those brainless stories about transmigrating into the body of a Chongzhen about to hang himself and then immediately slaughtering in all directions are pure nonsense.

You'd kill this one and that one—at that time, you couldn't even command a single eunuch. No one listened to you at all, and if you annoyed them, they'd quietly do you in.

The capital's sanitation was worrying. Apart from the Imperial City, virtually all of the capital's other roads were dirt roads. Dust in clear weather, mud in rain—that was the daily reality of the capital.

Moreover, whether residents or merchants, everyone had the habit of discarding trash carelessly. The underground drainage channels in the city were mostly severely clogged, and relieving oneself anywhere in public was a commonplace thing for peddlers and laborers.

In view of this situation, Chongzhen recalled another function of the Embroidered Uniform Guard—overseeing the repair of the capital's streets and the maintenance of its pipes and channels.

So Chongzhen issued an edict, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard joined forces with Shuntian Prefecture to launch a vigorous patriotic sanitation campaign.

Shuntian Prefecture posted announcements everywhere and sent men through the streets and alleys beating gongs and drums to proclaim far and wide: from this day forward, dumping trash and relieving oneself in public are forbidden within the capital. Whoever is caught, regardless of who they are—for serious offenses, a beating with the board; for minor ones, a fine in copper cash.

After three days of publicity, the Embroidered Uniform Guard and Shuntian Prefecture formed a joint enforcement team, divided into several groups, and began patrolling the capital daily.

On the very first day of patrol, the enforcement team arrested over a thousand violators. For those willing to pay, fines were levied according to the severity of the offense: ten cash for dumping trash, fifty cash for relieving oneself in public. Those penniless wretches without money were immediately held down and given ten strokes of the board on the spot.

Within a mere half month, the capital's streets and alleys were visibly cleaner. This vile habit accumulated over many years was basically thoroughly resolved—after all, no one was so rich that they'd pay fines while tossing trash, and besides, being watched by so many people was too embarrassing.

Shuntian Prefecture built a trash pit every hundred paces within the city. Whether households or merchants, everyone had to pile their trash into the pits, and at night Shuntian Prefecture hired dedicated personnel to cart it outside the city for burial.

Considering that the capital had many out-of-towners whose urgent needs required solving, Shuntian Prefecture, following instructions, built public latrines every two li in densely populated districts of the city, and one every li in the marketplaces. The latrines were separated by gender, with dedicated staff hired to clean them. Neither of these two services charged fees—the government paid uniformly, though in truth it was Chongzhen's own money. After all, he came from a later age and couldn't abide such uncivilized phenomena.

Chongzhen also allocated silver from the privy purse to the Embroidered Uniform Guard for purchasing blue bricks and stone materials and hiring workers to repair the city's roads. The main thoroughfares were to be paved primarily with stone, while the streets and alleys were laid with blue bricks.

This project would take a very long time, mainly because there were too few kilns firing bricks and stone was not easy to quarry—the paving itself wasn't that time-consuming. But that was fine; once everything was repaired, a brand-new capital would appear before everyone's eyes.

The work of dredging the underground channels proceeded simultaneously. Though these years had been dry with little rain, one couldn't only look at the present—one had to plan for the future as well.

There were now several avenues for earning money, but the big expenditures were far more numerous—just thinking about it gave Chongzhen a headache.

The two biggest drains were Liaodong and the imperial clan—these two could both be said to be direct causes of the court's bankruptcy.

Anyone with a bit of historical knowledge knows about Liaodong—its annual military pay amounted to several million taels. After Chongzhen transmigrated over, he had successively transferred out units like Zu Kuan's, and the military pay allocated to Liaodong was correspondingly reduced somewhat, but this didn't fundamentally solve the problem. The Liaodong military commanders' memorials demanding pay arrived basically every few days, as if hounding him to death. Looking at old Hou Xun's bitter gourd face, Chongzhen couldn't bear it, so he allocated funds twice, two hundred thousand taels each time, and had the Grand Secretariat send a document reprimanding Liaodong: "You have built not an inch of merit—what face do you have to demand pay?"

Once the roving bandits of northern Shaanxi were dealt with, solving the Liaodong problem would be placed on the agenda. The key was how to thoroughly resolve it without leaving future troubles—Chongzhen hadn't yet thought of a good method. He could only use such tactics as granting Zu Kuan and Li Chongjin the title of Regional Commander, bestowing a residence in the capital upon each, and letting it leak that if the two continued to build merit, the court was considering ennobling them as counts—all as a probe. Whether the Liaodong military commanders could be divided and dissolved had yet to show results; he didn't know what Zu and Li were truly thinking.

There was another nearly unsolvable problem—the imperial clan.

Toward these bloodsuckers and parasites on the Great Ming, Chongzhen felt deep disgust from his heart, yet he couldn't openly break with them. If the problem of the imperial clan could be resolved, the court's days would surely be much better, and the common people around the various princely mansions would be greatly relieved as well.

But how to solve this century-old challenge?