Chapter 156: Building the Shrine

Several days later, in the bustling streets of Yangzhou, several hundred officials of the Lianghuai Salt Commission, including the Salt Inspection Censor, were beheaded and their bodies exposed in the market. Transport Commissioner Hu Tinglu was temporarily detained at Liang Qi's residence, awaiting the Chongzhen Emperor's disposition—barring the unexpected, he would pay a massive ransom and be sent back to his hometown.

The families of all the offending officials were supposed to be exiled to Yizhou, but halfway along the route, the salt merchants secretly ransomed them from the escorting officers, settling the bond of gratitude between themselves and the salt merchants. As for reporting to the court, Yangzhou Prefecture had plenty of excuses to offer—for instance, that the ships had suddenly encountered storms and sunk during the escort, drowning all the exiled family members except the officers.

As for these people's new identities, with the salt merchants stepping forward, the Yangzhou Prefecture authorities would naturally register new household records for them—just change the names. The salt merchants would place these family members in their own properties, which was no great matter for merchants of such vast wealth.

This affair also showed that although the salt merchants were selfish and greedy, they had not yet lost their humanity—their sense of righteousness remained.

The anticipated popular uprising never occurred. Upon learning of the court's policy, the salt merchants quickly sent men to intercept the approaching salt-boilers and explained the situation clearly to them.

The salt-boilers, who had thought they would lose their livelihoods, naturally wholeheartedly approved of the court's plan and cheerfully returned to their respective salt fields, treating the trip as a pleasure outing.

The abolished Transport Commissioner's yamen became the seat of the newly established Salt Administration Bureau, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard's Yangzhou Chiliarchy also moved in, with Liang Qi becoming its first Chiliarch.

According to the regulations drawn up by the court, all salt fields formerly under the Lianghuai Transport Salt Commission now fell under the Salt Administration Bureau's jurisdiction. The Bureau was staffed with one Salt Commissioner at the fourth rank; one Vice Commissioner at the fifth rank; two Superintendents at the sixth rank; four Salt Depot Clerks at the eighth rank; and each salt field had one Director and two Deputy Directors, all of them unranked posts.

The new Salt Inspection Censor was dispatched by the Censorate and conducted official business in the same yamen.

Ten Embroidered Uniform Guard officers were stationed at each salt field, led by one Squad Leader, to prevent salt-boilers from privately selling illicit salt to merchants.

In this way, the Censorate, the Ministry of Revenue, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard exercised mutual oversight, effectively preventing potential corruption within the Salt Administration Bureau.

The Censorate's very purpose was to supervise all officials, and the Salt Inspection Censor was specifically tasked with finding fault with the Salt Administration Bureau. The Embroidered Uniform Guard, meanwhile, was the natural enemy of civil officials—one represented the court, the other represented the Emperor, and the two sides could never collude. Under such an institutional arrangement, it was difficult for corruption networks to form.

The Salt Administration Bureau purchased salt from salt-boilers at ten wen per catty, settled entirely in silver, with no arrears permitted.

The salt-boilers' cost of boiling salt was around four to five wen per catty. This purchase price matched what they had previously gotten from selling privately to merchants, but spared them the burden of transport and loading. The measure was warmly welcomed by the vast majority of salt-boilers—it was like having someone deliver money to their doorstep.

The Salt Administration Bureau transported the purchased salt to four salt depots and sold it to merchants at fifty wen per catty. Merchants were free to set their own prices and sell freely, no longer bound by the old provincial boundaries—if you had the ability, you could even sell it in the capital.

To prevent merchants from artificially inflating salt prices, at the Chongzhen Emperor's direction, the Four Seas Trading Company began opening shops in every prefecture and county, selling salt at one hundred wen per catty—effectively setting an official ceiling price for salt.

Any other merchant trying to raise prices would find it futile, for the people would automatically choose to buy from the Four Seas Trading Company, which could never run out of stock.

If anyone tried to suppress the Four Seas Trading Company through official means or other methods, they would have to ask whether their neck was harder than the Embroidered Uniform Guard's steel blades.

Upon learning of the Four Seas Trading Company's background, no one would dare touch the tiger's backside.

The Salt Administration Bureau fell under the Ministry of Revenue's jurisdiction, and the forty wen per catty markup was split evenly between the Emperor's privy purse and the Ministry of Revenue.

This was the result of strenuous argument by court ministers, especially Minister of Revenue Hou Xun. Had it been otherwise, all salt profits would have gone into the privy purse, and the Ministry of Revenue would have had to beg the Emperor for money—which would mean kowtowing to his whims.

The Chongzhen Emperor's goal was to take all salt profits out of private hands, and that goal had now been essentially achieved. From now on, salt profits would be divided among the Emperor, the court, and the salt merchants, eliminating the Transport Commission and other middlemen from profiting. The Chongzhen Emperor and the Great Ming court would no longer worry about money.

Based on the nation's population of roughly 120 million at this time, with each person consuming seven catties of salt per year, the forty wen per catty profit would be an astronomical figure—even halved, it was a staggering sum of silver.

Liu Zuo's visit to Shi Bangyao at the inn was a goodwill gesture made amid the salt merchants' fear that the imperial envoy would take advantage of the situation to settle accounts. Shi Bangyao had long received instructions from the Chongzhen Emperor not to implicate others by association, but to pressure the salt merchants, he still sternly condemned their actions. He stated that Chen Qiyu had come with the Xuzhou Camp, and that if a popular uprising erupted, the court would adopt iron-fisted measures to suppress it resolutely, and would confiscate the property and exterminate the families of the masterminds behind it—even some officials would not escape blame.

Finally, Liu Zuo, on behalf of the salt merchants, declared that the matter of a popular uprising was pure fabrication—the salt merchants were all loyal and patriotic people of good character. Now that the court was waging war on all fronts and finances were stretched thin, the salt merchants were willing to donate funds to support the military as a token of sincerity—the donation amounted to one million taels of silver.

Shi Bangyao pretended to deliberate at length before reluctantly accepting the salt merchants' goodwill, stating that their donation must be converted entirely into grain and handed over to the Grain Transport Commission, which would issue receipts. The Chongzhen Emperor had originally instructed Shi Bangyao to use part of the confiscated illicit silver to purchase grain for Chen Qiyu. Seeing this windfall arrive, Shi Bangyao simply took the initiative and converted it into grain as well.

As for the salt merchants' instigation of popular unrest against the court, Shi Bangyao stated that he would not pursue the matter—but if such actions occurred again, what awaited them would be the court's severe punishment.

With everything properly arranged, the imperial envoy departed Yangzhou for the capital. Most of the several hundred Embroidered Uniform Guard officers who had accompanied him remained in Yangzhou; only a few dozen escorted the fleet of boats laden with confiscated silver and goods back with him.

Chen Qiyu had gained nothing from this trip to Yangzhou and was deeply frustrated, but upon hearing His Majesty's decree ordering him to establish a number of granaries along the Grand Canal, his mood improved somewhat. As long as His Majesty still assigned him tasks outside his regular duties, it showed that his abilities were still highly regarded.

The two most important customs barriers on the Grand Canal, at Linqing and Yangzhou, would naturally be handled by the Ministry of Revenue and the Censorate. Per the Chongzhen Emperor's decree, the rectification of the customs barriers would only target officials, not clerks and runners, because they would still need these insiders to do the work in the future. As long as oversight was in place and official business details were made public, it would effectively prevent hidden hands from operating in the dark.

The oversight mechanism was no different from that of the Salt Administration Bureau—all parties stationed personnel there. How effective it would actually be could only be known after it had operated for some time.

The Chongzhen Emperor looked at the confiscation inventory submitted by Shi Bangyao, and his heart blossomed with joy.

The Transport Commission truly was a big sheep pen, and the sheep inside were all plump and fat.

This haul had netted over 2.7 million taels of silver, tens of thousands of mu of farmland, over a dozen shops, and numerous antiques, calligraphy, and paintings whose value could not yet be estimated.

Another windfall! Haha!

Moreover, this kind of external wealth came simply, directly, and effortlessly—it was easy to get addicted to.

But this method must be used sparingly in the future, or it would drive people to thoughts of disaffection. There were already plenty of ways to bring in money; there was no need to resort to confiscation and exile at every turn. If even officials could not feel secure in their posts, the common people below would be even less stable. No one wanted disaster to fall from the sky while sitting at home. Private property rights must be strongly protected—unless one had violated the criminal law.

The Chongzhen Emperor highly praised Shi Bangyao's decision to convert the salt merchants' atonement silver into grain. That old man, who looked so stern and orthodox, actually had a fairly flexible mind. Officials like him—upright yet capable of compromise—should be given important posts in the future.

The Chongzhen Emperor instinctively glanced at the palace gate. There was no sign of Hou Xun.

After every confiscation, Hou Xun somehow got wind of it and would immediately come to court to demand a share of the spoils. The Chongzhen Emperor was truly afraid of that old man.

"Minister Shi traveled far to Jianghuai and handled matters excellently! You completed the abolition and nipped a popular uprising in the bud—my heart is greatly comforted! This trip to Jiangnan yielded rich results, and I specially award you three thousand taels of fine silver as recognition! Now hurry home and rest!"

The Chongzhen Emperor was quite generous—this silver had come for free, so spending it to win people's hearts did not pain him. Besides, the man had rendered meritorious service; rewards and punishments should be clearly distinguished.

Shi Bangyao bowed and said, "This is merely your servant's duty, unworthy of Your Majesty's praise! Your servant still has important matters to report!"

The Chongzhen Emperor said warmly, "Minister Shi, please speak freely!"

Thereupon Shi Bangyao reported in full detail how the Yangzhou Prefecture officials had colluded with the salt merchants, caring only for private gain while disregarding the court.

The Chongzhen Emperor naturally knew of what Shi Bangyao reported, but the current priority was suppressing the bandits; rectifying officialdom would have to wait for later. He thus comforted Shi Bangyao with warm words, warned him not to tell Hou Xun the amount of the confiscated silver, and watched him depart.

Regarding Hu Tinglu's turning himself in, the Chongzhen Emperor deliberated for some time before issuing a decree to Luo Yangxing, ordering Hu Tinglu in the Imperial Prison to donate three hundred thousand taels to atone for his crimes. His Yangzhou residence would be auctioned off to the state, after which he would be dismissed from office and sent back to his native place. This was also done to show some consideration for Zhou Yanru—after all, the man had served as Chief Grand Secretary for two years under the Emperor's predecessor, and some courtesy between sovereign and minister should be maintained. Moreover, it left a sliver of hope for the many corrupt officials, lest they cause trouble knowing they were doomed to die.

Hu Tinglu was, of course, utterly satisfied with this disposition. He had already heard that Song Sizhang and the others had all been beheaded and exposed in the market. His desperate gamble had not only bought back his life but also spared his family from harm. After donating three hundred thousand taels, he still had a considerable fortune left—enough to live comfortably for several generations.

Shi Bangyao, as the second-ranking figure in the Censorate, was ordinarily incorruptible and cautious, and his family members had never abused his position. Receiving this large reward silver, he was inwardly overjoyed as well.

The silver in the Inner Storage Treasury had now piled up like a small mountain. He could not just leave it there to admire like some provincial rich man—it had to be spent.

The first thing the Chongzhen Emperor thought of was the Martyrs' Shrine he had promised.

The construction of the Martyrs' Shrine had met with fierce opposition from civil officials from the very start. Even Wen Tiren, who had always sided with him, had this time firmly opposed it, which was why construction had not yet begun.

There was no helping it—men of letters had always looked down on military officers at their core. In their eyes, these crude, barbaric warriors were the chief culprits in bringing chaos to the realm. Even mighty dynasties like Han and Tang had ultimately fallen because of the havoc wreaked by warriors, had they not?

As for the soldiers who shed blood and fought for the court, they were even more selectively ignored—why should such vulgar people be worth discussing? The fresh lives lost for the nation were, to them, nothing but a pile of cold numbers.

The civil officials believed that since soldiers drew military pay and rations, and their families received burial money after death, whether they died in battle or were crippled—wasn't that all simply as it should be? Why build shrines to honor them? Wouldn't it be better to bury them in their ancestral graves back home?

Moreover, on every major holiday, civil officials would have to go offer sacrifices—wasn't that a disgrace to scholarly dignity? A bunch of dead roughnecks hardly deserved such treatment.

The Chongzhen Emperor did not want to break completely with his ministers over this matter, but he had already spoken the words from his golden mouth. If he went back on them, it would chill the hearts of his soldiers. What was he to do?

Just as he was at his wit's end, a few words from Wang Cheng'en suddenly opened his eyes.

"Your Majesty, this old servant believes that these civil officials—good or bad, loyal or treacherous—all hope to leave their names in history! But how many of them actually get their wish? When Your Majesty has the soldiers' names carved and shrines built for them, in their eyes that is precisely leaving one's name in history! These lofty officials never received such honor themselves—how could they let others take it away?"

Wang Cheng'en spoke unhurriedly, his back bent.

"Hahaha! Companion! You're the clever one! If not for your crippled body, with that insight and mind of yours, you'd be a shoo-in for the Grand Secretariat!"

Chongzhen laughed heartily as he praised him. Wang Cheng'en's words had awakened him—this matter could proceed in a way that pleased everyone.

Seeing Chongzhen so delighted, Wang Cheng'en felt even happier in his heart than if he had received His Majesty's praise.

His Majesty's smile is truly handsome! Wang Cheng'en looked up at the Emperor before him with affectionate eyes.