Chapter 1006

Besides Cao Rong's bedroom, the Embroidered Uniform Guards had searched every possible corner of the Cao mansion, even lifting three roof tiles from each of the family's storage warehouses.

According to the Embroidered Uniform Guards stationed on the roof, the three warehouses held immense value—so much so that, given Cao Rong's annual stipend, he would need to live a thousand years to earn that much.

Hearing this, Pan Yun and the others understood clearly: this household could be seized.

The sky had just begun to lighten; the servants of the Cao mansion were slowly rising, but the masters still slept.

Xue Shao glanced toward the main bedroom and nodded to Pan Yun: "I'll meet Jiao Tong this morning. You shouldn't show your face—do whatever you need to do."

He handed the list he'd recorded in the treasure vault to An Chen, took the original ledger of the vault for himself, and left all the seized gold, silver, and jewels in Pan Yun's hands.

It was a perfect triangle, extremely stable.

Neither An Chen nor Pan Yun objected.

The group slipped back to the inn where they'd stayed the previous night and, with time still left, collapsed onto their beds and slept soundly.

Pan Yun slept the most deeply—she washed her hands and face, changed her clothes, then pulled the quilt over herself and slept peacefully.

The Embroidered Uniform Guards simply dozed on their beds; an hour later, they woke, went to An Chen's room, and awaited orders.

Xue Shao, however, didn't sleep at all. He returned to his room, washed his face and hands, then sat at the table in deep thought—no one knew what he pondered, but he sat there for a full hour.

When the hour of Chen arrived, Xue Shao woke up the snoring Xi Jin, had him wash up, then went downstairs for breakfast.

Then he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked with Xi Jin to the Provincial Administration Commissioner's office.

That day, the news that Censor Xue Shao had arrived in Guangzhou spread through the officialdom.

Ordinary commoners knew nothing yet; they carried on with their lives exactly as before.

But all officials in Guangzhou, from top to bottom, tightened their skin, felt their hearts leap, and grew anxious.

"This Censor Xue has a reputation—he won't leave Guangzhou unless he uncovers something."

"A strong dragon doesn't suppress earthbound snakes—this is Lingnan, not Jiangnan. If he acts recklessly, not even the local tusi and villagers will stand for it—Jiao Daoren won't approve either."

Jiao Tong indeed disapproved. After a private meeting with Xue Shao, he flatly refused: "Lingnan's situation is complex—it cannot be handled like Jiangnan."

"Cao Rong is a malignant tumor. Leaving him in Guangzhou means the entire Guangdong will be overrun with smaller tumors."

"He is a tumor, yes—but he holds back even worse, more urgent diseases," Jiao Tong said. "After the late Emperor's failed campaign last year, Guangxi has remained in rebellion, and it's still not quelled. Do you know that?"

Xue Shao: "Only small-scale uprisings—the imperial court didn't even dispatch reinforcements from Jingcheng, only called on the garrisons of Hubei and Hunan."

Jiao Tong snorted: "Yet even this minor rebellion has dragged on for nearly a year since last October and remains uncrushed."

Xue Shao fell silent for a moment: "Guangxi is mountainous—when rebels flee into the hills, the imperial army can't reach them…"

"Precisely. And unlike the Luchuan campaign, the minority peoples of Guangxi can be pacified with minimal conciliation, so the court doesn't take them seriously," Jiao Tong sneered. "But if we just drag this out, wasting garrison troops against rebels—is that truly a solution?"

"I don't understand warfare, but I understand hearts," Jiao Tong said. "I can guarantee that if the court offers no real solution, this rebellion in Guangxi will expand—not only affecting Guangdong, but spilling into Hunan. I know Cao Rong embezzles pay and seizes military farmland, but he controls Guangdong's garrisons and suppresses its tusi and villagers."

Xue Shao frowned.

Jiao Tong said: "In these troubled times, I believe stillness is better than action. If you move against him, either bring a general with greater prestige than his in Guangdong to suppress him—or wait until the Guangxi rebellion is fully resolved."

Xue Shao lowered his gaze and thought long—until Jiao Tong nearly believed he had given up—then raised his head and said: "Jiao Daoren, I am a Censor, tasked with inspecting the people's livelihoods, evaluating officials' conduct and virtue, correcting chaos, and restoring clarity to the people's world. Cao Rong—I will deal with him."

Jiao Tong frowned: "I thought you were different from your uncle—at least you'd understand you can't smash an egg against a stone. Yet you and your uncle share the same stubbornness: ignoring consequences, clinging blindly to legal principle."

Xue Shao: "If we abandon legal principle, how can the state govern?"

"Legal principle must yield to the greater good. You know prosecuting Cao Rong might trigger a major rebellion and cost more lives—still, will you proceed?"

Xue Shao: "Since the founding of Great Ming, rebellions have never ceased across the land. Why? Because the court always addresses only surface causes, never the root—and never resolves the root. Thus rebellions, like embers, extinguish one only to spark two, smolder for a while, then reignite—endlessly."

Xue Shao, rarely showing anger, confronted Jiao Tong: "Jiao Shibo, let's set aside our ranks and positions for now. If your late grandfather were here and asked you—tell me, why do the people of Guangdong and Guangxi rebel endlessly? Why do these common folk risk execution to rise up?"

Jiao Tong clenched his fists and said grimly: "They seek to force the court to concede, to split the nation."

Xue Shao scoffed: "Lingnan has always been Chinese soil. In bloodline, its people descend from Yan and Huang—or from Chiyou. Jiaozhi still harbors rebellious thoughts, but when has Lingnan ever dreamed of independence? If they truly wanted to split the nation, they'd install a tusi as their ruler—so why do the rebel commoners attack not only imperial troops, but also tusi?"

Jiao Tong opened his mouth, then closed it. The Guangxi rebellion truly differed from the Si Jifa family's.

The Si Jifa family genuinely sought independence, to declare themselves kings and make Great Ming their suzerain.

But Luchuan had long been Great Ming territory—under heaven, all land belonged to the Emperor. Great Ming could not stand by as Si Jifa led its own subjects to death, enslaving them like beasts—hence the need to crush them.

The Guangxi rebellion, in truth…

Jiao Tong rubbed his forehead and fell silent.

Xue Shao pressed harder: "Jiao Shibo, tell me the reason—or do you not even know the root cause?"

Jiao Tong remained silent.

"Do you not know—or dare not speak?"

Jiao Tong sighed: "Xue Shao, if something cannot be changed, what use is speaking of it? Only added sorrow."

"If you don't speak, how do you know it's useless?" Xue Shao said. "Besides, you know—but others don't. If you don't reveal the root cause, they'll still believe Guangxi's commoners are merely greedy, rebellious, and insubordinate."

"The more people who know, the more minds will turn to it. With so many clever people in the world, perhaps one will devise a solution," Xue Shao said. "Even if no one finds a permanent fix—if a hundred know, a thousand, ten thousand—even a hundred thousand—each changes a little, each takes one small step—then the problem is solved."

Jiao Tong mocked Xue Shao's naivety: "You've been an official for years, serving as Censor—how can you still be so naive? How could a hundred thousand people change simultaneously? Even a hundred is impossible."

Xue Shao did not smile. He thought of the commoners who knelt before Pan Yun, worshipping her as their faith, and shook his head: "No. Precisely because I am a Censor, I know nothing is impossible."

"I once thought things I found powerless and bitter could be changed. All people yearn for beauty—common folk yearn for it even more fiercely. If you tell them, I believe they will change," Xue Shao said. "Jiao Shibo, you and I—and countless officials—all came from students. And students—all came from common folk."

"If we had understood this when we were common folk, held fast to our convictions as students, then when we became officials, we would naturally strive to remove these injustices."

Jiao Tong sneered: "Then you'd have to start with children—wait until they pass the imperial exams and become officials, at least thirty years. But how many students can you teach at once?"

Jiao Tong said: "Even the most revered teachers have influence only in Hedong and Sichuan. For court officials and education, you must look to Jiangnan. Can you interfere with Jiangnan's education?"

"The people of Zhejiang, Fujian, Jiangxi, and the Southern Directly Governed Region—they don't even fear the Emperor. You, a minor Censor from Hedong—how could you implant your ideas into their children's minds?" Jiao Tong shook his head slightly. "Is this not despair?"

Xue Shao shook his head: "Not despair. Only determination."

Jiao Tong: "Obstinate fool."

Jiao Tong turned to leave.

Xue Shao reached out and stopped him: "Jiao Shibo, you haven't told me the root cause of Guangxi's rebellion."

Jiao Tong paused, then said: "It stems from excessive oppression. During the reign of the founding Emperor, though wary of these minority peoples, he sincerely sought to win their loyalty—so he offered leniency, light taxes. But the realm was newly settled, and banditry in Guangdong and Guangxi was rampant. To quell the bandits and prevent tusi rebellion, the Emperor stationed fierce generals in the two provinces. Yet…"

"With the realm newly stabilized, everyone was being rewarded according to merit; officers who had fought for half their lives wanted to enjoy better lives, so they ran rampant in the local areas." Xue Shao picked up his words: "In Guangdong and Guangxi, especially Guangxi, mountains outnumbered flat land, and the economy was extremely underdeveloped. For officers to live as lavishly as the nobles of Jingcheng, they needed more native people to support them—this was one of the key reasons for the persistent rebellions in Guangdong and Guangxi during the early years of our Great Ming."

Jiao Tong sighed and nodded: "Yes, the grudges were forged then. Later, the High Emperor Taizu executed many military officers, and Guangdong and Guangxi temporarily stabilized. But when the imperial court later launched campaigns against the north and Jiaozhi, it not only conscripted troops from Guangdong and Guangxi, but also levied taxes and grain supplies. For every tael the court demanded, local chieftains would extract three taels from the natives; after handing over one tael, they kept two for themselves. When the natives couldn't pay, and life became unbearable, they naturally rebelled."

Moreover, Guangxi had many minority groups, whose people were notoriously fierce—not like the ordinary folk of the Central Plains or Jiangnan, who, when exploited, would endure, then endure again, enduring until they sold their children, even themselves, only rebelling when even selling themselves wouldn't let them survive. The native people of Guangxi, upon realizing they were being treated unjustly and had to sell their children just to fill the hole, would simply hide their children in the mountains and rise up en masse, village by village.

They skipped the middle stage of silent endurance entirely.

Thus, the imperial court always found the native people of Guangxi especially difficult to handle, with rebellions occurring every year—thankfully, each was confined to a single village or stockade, never large in scale.

Aside from one or two major rebellions during the early founding years that required troop deployments to suppress, the rest were usually handled by local garrisons, at most drawing on troops from Guangdong and Hunan.

Especially Guangdong's garrison: of ten rebellions in Guangxi, Guangdong had to send troops to suppress seven of them.

But this also had a drawback.

The native people of Guangdong, seeing their neighbors in the mountains rebel, would occasionally respond in kind.

So every time someone rebelled in Guangxi, Jiao Tong had to maintain ties with Cao Rong, urging him to strengthen patrols to prevent locals from rising up in sympathy with their neighbors.

"So, Uncle Jiao understands the root cause. You know, if the native people of Guangxi were treated fairly—if they were treated well, given a chance to survive—they wouldn't rebel. If they could live well, they would remain loyal to the Emperor and protect the nation."

"I know," Jiao Tong said. "Do you think the ministers in the court don't know? But who can solve it? And who dares to solve it?"

He said: "Do you know how many ethnic groups there are in Guangxi? Villages and stockades separated by just one mountain may belong to different ethnicities, with different customs, different chieftains, and different attitudes toward those chieftains. Do you know who the officials sent to Liuzhou Prefecture are?"

Jiao Tong said: "Most are exiled officials punished for offenses. If even Liuzhou's officials are like this, how much worse are those in other counties and prefectures of Guangxi? To govern this place properly requires a man of great wisdom."

"And who with great wisdom would come to Guangdong and Guangxi to serve as an official?" Jiao Tong pointed to himself: "I came to Lingnan only because I petitioned on behalf of your uncle's injustice. When Wang Zhen held power, he exiled me here. I was originally meant for Hubei or Hunan—both lands of rice and fish."

"If I could help it, I wouldn't have come here," Jiao Tong said. "If even I feel this way, how much more so others?"

Xue Shao fell silent.

"So I don't support you moving against Cao Rong," Jiao Tong said sternly. "If you move against Cao Rong, Guangdong has a seventy percent chance of falling into chaos."

Xue Shao said: "What if Cao Rong stays in his position, and Guangdong has an eighty percent chance of falling into chaos?"

Jiao Tong's eyes narrowed slightly: "What are you planning?"

Xue Shao said: "Cao Rong is arrogant, pocketing empty rations, seizing military farmland. I don't believe the hundreds of thousands of military households here don't resent him. And these hundreds of thousands of military households are the ones who interact most with the local civilians—they've lived here for three generations; surely many have married into local families."

Jiao Tong gasped: "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Xue Shao said sternly: "Uncle Jiao, you don't have to help me—but at least don't stand in my way!"

"I am the Provincial Administration Commissioner of Guangdong," Jiao Tong said grimly. "If Guangdong erupts in chaos, I am the first to bear the blame. You ask me not to stand in your way?"

"Uncle Jiao, you've forgotten the root cause again. If public outrage is boiling over, remove the cause of that outrage—and won't the anger subside?" Xue Shao said. "Meanwhile, Guangdong will rid itself of one great poison and a string of lesser ones." (End of Chapter)