Chapter 24: The First Step of Disaster Relief

Since he had been ordered by imperial decree to soothe the people, Zhu Cilang could not return to the palace every day—only after completing the decree's mission could he go back to report. So he led a group of Eastern Palace guards into the Prince Duan Residence in the outer city.

The master of the Prince Duan Residence was Prince Duan, Zhu Changhao, the fifth son of the Wanli Emperor, two generations senior to Zhu Cilang. Twelve years ago he had gone to his fief in Hanzhong, leaving only a steward and a few servants to manage the residence.

According to the ancestral regulations of the Great Ming, members of the imperial family traveling outside could not casually stay in government offices. Government offices were places for official business, belonging to the public, not the private property of the imperial house. Even the Emperor of the Great Ming could only stay in temporary palaces or, when nearby, in the residences of feudal princes.

Unlike the later Manchu Qing, which treated the state as private property—where all under heaven were the imperial family's slaves, and a southern tour could casually lodge in government offices or ministers' homes under the fine-sounding pretext of "being close to the people."

Zhu Cilang had originally wanted to stay at the Prince Xin Residence, where Chongzhen had lived before becoming Emperor. The Prince Xin Residence was extremely large, twice the size of the Prince Duan Residence. But it was still inside the imperial city, too far away, and inconvenient to travel back and forth.

This Prince Duan Residence occupied less than a hundred mu—not even a fraction of the Forbidden City—just the standard scale of a princely residence. Perhaps because Prince Duan had never been favored by the Wanli Emperor, he had only been given an ordinary residence in the outer city.

Because it was cleaned regularly year-round, the Prince Duan Residence did not look run-down. Hearing that His Highness the Crown Prince would be staying there, the steward hurriedly arranged for the entire residence to be thoroughly cleaned inside and out.

The Prince Duan Residence was built in strict accordance with the Ming dynasty's regulations for feudal prince residences. At the front stood the Duanli Gate, with four gateways—front and back, left and right. The main hall in the center was called the Chengyun Hall, a name common to all feudal prince residences.

Behind Chengyun Hall were the bedchambers, and at the very back was the imperial garden. In addition, there were four halls, four pavilions, and over fifty terraces, towers, verandas, chambers, and rooms—grand in scale, far more luxurious than the mansions of high officials and nobles in the capital.

Zhu Cilang took a brief tour of the Prince Duan Residence, then rested for a while in Chengyun Hall, eating pastries brought from the palace by his attendants while pondering his plans.

After a moment, Zhu Cilang summoned his personal bodyguard Xu Sheng and said, "Xu Sheng, go have the Southern City Troops and Horses Command send some men to set up ten porridge stations in spacious, sparsely populated areas of the city. Give the refugees two meals of porridge each day, morning and evening, and make sure a pair of chopsticks stuck in the porridge stands upright. Anyone who dares to embezzle a single grain of food—behead them and confiscate their property. Have Li Tingbiao send some Embroidered Uniform Guard men to keep watch. Also, remember to have them put up the banner proclaiming that this prince is soothing the people by imperial decree."

The ten thousand taels of silver from the Ministry of Revenue would be enough to feed tens of thousands of refugees porridge for several days. Now that he had left the palace, Zhu Cilang could not delay—he had to start working.

Zhu Cilang was well aware of the tricks and schemes of the officials below. If he didn't send people to keep watch, that ten thousand taels would probably only buy two days of porridge at most.

Xu Sheng left to carry out his orders, and Zhu Cilang summoned Wu Zhong, instructing him, "Companion Wu, go to the Northern Provost Office and have Li Tingbiao come see me."

Wu Zhong said, "Young Master, Lord Li is already waiting outside the Prince Duan Residence."

"How does he happen to be here?" The Northern Provost Office was still in the imperial city—how had Li Tingbiao slipped out to the outer city? Zhu Cilang was puzzled.

Wu Zhong explained, "For this trip of Young Master's out of the palace to soothe the people, the Five Wards Troops and Horses Offices, the Patrol Censors, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard all sent men to secretly protect Your Highness. The man leading the Embroidered Uniform Guard contingent this time is Lord Li."

"Mm, let him in. I have matters to assign." Zhu Cilang nodded, thinking to himself that Luo Yangxing really knew how to pick his men.

When Li Tingbiao arrived at Chengyun Hall and paid his respects, Zhu Cilang did not chat with him much and directly assigned the task.

He was to compile a list of wealthy officials and rich merchants in Beijing within five days, with the standard being family assets of over one hundred thousand taels of silver, and preferably to ascertain the approximate wealth of these people.

Li Tingbiao's heart skipped a beat—surely His Highness the Crown Prince hadn't gotten addicted to confiscating property and wanted the Embroidered Uniform Guard to seize these people's homes!

This thought was strangled the moment it surfaced. It was impossible—His Highness was far too clever to do something that would shake the foundations of the state.

Zhu Cilang noticed the odd look in his eyes and smiled, saying, "This prince isn't stupid enough to do something that would bring fire down on his own head. This time I merely want to organize a donation drive, to get those wealthy types to contribute a bit of effort."

In the late Ming, the court was poor and the common people were poor, but the landlords, rich merchants, and officials were not poor at all—on the contrary, they were all dripping with wealth. It could be said that most of the Great Ming's riches were held in the pockets of this tiny minority.

Zhu Cilang wanted to reach into these people's pockets. Of course, he couldn't rob them—he could only solicit donations, begging them to give money. But as for how to "beg," that was still up to him to decide.

Li Tingbiao breathed a sigh of relief. After leaving the Prince Duan Residence, he immediately set about arranging for men to investigate in secret, using only people he trusted himself.

His philosophy of work was: safety matters more than efficiency.

After Xu Sheng conveyed the Eastern Palace's orders, the men of the Southern City Troops and Horses Command sprang into action, marking out ten porridge stations scattered across the outer city, rapidly transporting grain and setting up the stations. Their efficiency was truly on point.

That very afternoon, the ten porridge stations began serving the public. At the first meal, some scrambling broke out among the refugees—many who hadn't eaten for days saw the gleaming white millet porridge and immediately lunged forward.

But what they had to face were the yamen runners of the Southern City Troops and Horses Command. Seeing people rush forward to grab, these runners directly picked up the thick wooden clubs they had prepared in advance and laid into them with a vicious beating, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Several ringleaders of the scramble were arrested on the spot. After being beaten with clubs, they were tied to wooden stakes, eyes bulging and drooling as they watched others drink porridge.

Under harsh penalties in chaotic times, the refugees immediately quieted down. In truth, the main reason was that the porridge was provided in ample supply—whether you came early or late, you could still get your bowl, so there was no need to scramble. Thus, at subsequent servings, the refugees lined up of their own accord, and order at mealtimes improved greatly.

A patrol colonel from the Southern City Troops and Horses Command ladled porridge for the refugees with a scoop while loudly proclaiming, "His Highness the Crown Prince is soothing the people by imperial decree, and has specially ordered us to serve porridge here. Don't you forget to be grateful for the grace of the Son of Heaven and His Highness!"

The crowd of refugees merely agreed profusely, each holding a bowl and lining up to receive porridge. Those at the back kept craning their necks, waiting anxiously—who cared whose grace it was, they hadn't even gotten food in their mouths yet.

Those in front who had received their full bowls squatted down wherever they could find a spot, wolfing down their food ravenously.

In recent days, they had survived by gnawing on chaff, wild vegetables, and tree bark. Even after arriving in the capital, they had only eaten leftover scraps. Many, looking at the pure, thick porridge in their bowls, tears streamed down their faces—only then did they recall the words the patrol colonel had just spoken.