Chapter 353: Concern for the Nation

The last small court session ended in discord.

But no matter how unhappy they were, the young emperor still put on a cheerful face the next day to announce the sealing of the court and grant everyone a holiday.

Most officials went home for the New Year, only a few remained to take turns on duty.

Yang Shiqi was already very old; he rarely attended court in normal times, let alone took duty shifts.

Since the fourth year of Zhengtong, he had gradually transferred his authority to his subordinates and reduced his involvement in state affairs.

The young eunuch respectfully supported Yang Shiqi and whispered, "Your Majesty wishes to see the Grand Secretary; I have been sent by Mr. Wang to fetch you."

Yang Shiqi smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Wang."

When Yang Shiqi arrived at the imperial study, Wang Zhen came out personally, standing by the door with a slight bow, smiling: "Grand Secretary, please enter."

Yang Shiqi gave a slight nod, pressed his hand against the young eunuch's arm, and stepped inside.

The young emperor stood sideways, staring blankly at a massive map.

Yang Shiqi halted and prepared to kneel, but the emperor, snapping back to awareness, called out: "Quickly, support Mr. Yang."

The emperor himself stepped forward and took Yang Shiqi's arm. "Why must you be so formal with me, Mr. Yang?"

Yang Shiqi: "Ritual must not be neglected."

The emperor waved his hand. "These formalities don't matter. Come, Mr. Yang, look here."

He pulled Yang Shiqi to the map and pointed southwest. "Si Jifa's entire family—wife and children—have been captured by General Wang. Yunnan has been reclaimed. But it is infuriating that Si Renfa and Si Jifa fled to Burma, and Burma has been playing both sides, refusing to hand over the fugitives. This shows our imperial authority still lacks weight in the southwest. If we advance again and punish the Burmese king, all the southwestern vassal states will dare no longer to pay lip service while secretly defying our laws and decrees."

Yang Shiqi squinted at the map, nodded, and stroked his beard. "Your Majesty, the Luchuan campaign has dragged on for years. Not only are our soldiers exhausted, the people are too. We must uphold imperial prestige, but to exhaust the state treasury for this is not worth it."

The young emperor withdrew his hand. "So you also think I shouldn't have launched this Luchuan campaign?"

Yang Shiqi shook his head slightly. "No, the war must be fought—but how it is fought matters."

He sighed. "Si Renfa and his son have defied the court multiple times and spoken disrespectfully to Your Majesty. If we do nothing, our imperial authority will vanish entirely, and other southwestern vassal states will surely rise in rebellion. But… to expend such vast military and financial resources for this war is not worth it."

He said: "Last year, when Si Renfa and his son begged for peace, Your Majesty should have agreed."

The young emperor's face darkened; he said nothing.

Last year, after Wang Ji's great victory, Si Renfa and his son submitted a petition for peace. Half the court agreed; half opposed.

The emperor felt that after causing such a massive disturbance, for them to simply apologize and beg for reconciliation—and for him to forgive them outright—would be too lenient toward Si Renfa and his son.

The anger in his chest would not dissipate, and Wang Zhen strongly agreed with him, so he refused peace and ordered Wang Ji to continue fighting.

But he had not anticipated that the subsequent campaigns would be erratic, with wins and losses alike; to win, they had to pour in even more troops and funds.

The young emperor clenched his teeth, cheeks tightening. After a moment, he asked: "Mr. Yang, should our troops now be stationed along the southwestern border—or the northern one?"

Yang Shiqi: "The north."

He paused, then said: "The Oirats have grown steadily stronger in recent years, repeatedly seizing grasslands and livestock from the Tatars. Now, the Tatars' power has been pushed closer to Great Ming. Toghto Bukha and Esen are closely allied…"

He slowed his speech, took a breath, and continued: "Your Majesty, on this land of China, since ancient times, it has always been easier to attack from north to south, harder to conquer from south to north."

The young emperor scoffed: "Mr. Yang, they're merely ants. Why bring this up as a matter of national defense? These barbarians are not worthy of being called a threat to our realm."

"A ruler must think of danger even in times of peace," Yang Shiqi said, then seeing the emperor's displeased expression, smiled: "Of course, with Your Majesty's majestic presence, these are trivial matters. Great Ming's army is strong and well-equipped; there is no need to overly fear them."

The young emperor nodded. "These are trivial matters. Silver is the real issue."

He said: "As long as we have silver, our military equipment can keep pace—what do our soldiers of Great Ming have to fear?"

Yang Shiqi remained silent.

Seeing his silence, the young emperor asked directly: "Mr. Yang, you are a Jiang Xiren. Tell me—what is going on with Jiangxi's silver mines?"

Yang Shiqi paused a moment, then said: "Simply local officials illegally opening mines, or landlords and gentry stealing silver, bribing officials."

The young emperor slammed his fist on the table, furious: "Investigate them!"

Yang Shiqi lowered his eyes, then said: "Your Majesty, Jiangxi's silver mines yield no more than a few thousand taels a year—mere drops in the ocean for the state treasury. The treasury's emptiness is not due to silver mines, but to other causes."

The young emperor: "If small problems are not fixed, how can great ones be solved? But what, in your view, is the root of the treasury's emptiness?"

Yang Shiqi: "In officialdom. In taxation."

He said: "The common people already pay heavy taxes, yet the treasury still cannot cover expenditures. The problem lies in official corruption and extravagant spending. If Your Majesty wishes to restore the treasury, you must reform officialdom—and the inner court and imperial clan."

The young emperor frowned slightly. "Reform officialdom… who would you entrust with this?"

Yang Shiqi refused outright—he was seventy-nine, could barely walk; how could he possibly undertake the reform of officialdom?

The young emperor seized the chance: "Do you have any recommendations?"

Yang Shiqi lowered his eyes, thought a moment, then said: "Former Vice Minister of Justice Xue Xuan is upright and stern, unafraid of power. He might be worth a try."

The emperor was displeased.

Xue Xuan had been dismissed and banished from Jingcheng, and the emperor had once issued an order forbidding his return.

Bringing him back to reform officialdom? That would only bring himself discomfort.

The emperor asked: "Who else is fit?"

Yang Shiqi felt a faint disappointment but kept his smile. "Yu Qian, Right Vice Minister of War, is resolute and capable. He too could be used."

The emperor: "Yu Qian?" Yang Shiqi nodded, smiling: "He is currently touring Henan, Shanxi, and other regions. If Your Majesty wishes to reform officialdom, recall and appoint him."

The emperor fell into thought.

When Yang Shiqi was escorted out of the palace, night was nearly fallen, but many colleagues still waited at his gate.

There were civil officials, military generals, and noble lords.

Seeing Yang Shiqi, they immediately rushed forward, helped him down, and surrounded him as they ushered him inside.

Yang Shiqi leaned on his steward's arm as he crossed the threshold, then turned and said softly: "It's cold. You should all go home."

"Grand Secretary, will Your Majesty launch another campaign against Luchuan?"

"The Oirats grow ever bolder in the north—will Your Majesty also wage war there?"

"The treasury is empty—will we have to raise taxes again next year?"

"What of the Jiangxi silver mines?"

"The legend of Quanzhou's treasure has still yielded no answers; Lord Wang and the Embroidered Uniform Guard remain outside, and Fujian is still filled with public unease."

!.

The ministers chattered all at once, each raising a question, like ducks quacking noisily around Yang Shiqi's ears.

Yang Shiqi raised his hand to quiet them, speaking gently: "The Emperor is a sage ruler; he naturally hears wise counsel. Do not rush—return home peacefully for the New Year. Matters can be discussed again next year."

The ministers exchanged glances, then stepped back in unison, raising their hands in a respectful bow: "Yes, Grand Secretary."

They departed after offering Yang Shiqi their New Year greetings in advance.

Yang Shiqi, leaning on his steward's arm, stood at the gate watching them leave in small groups, motionless for a long while.

The steward tried twice to help him move but could not, so he softly called: "Old Master?"

Yang Shiqi sighed: "Look—they cluster in groups of three or five; some are sharply divided, others rush forward to merge together."

The steward was baffled, not understanding the meaning, and could only smile: "Perhaps these officials are close, with things to discuss."

"Yes, close..." Yang Shiqi turned and leaned on the steward's arm as they walked into the courtyard, murmuring: "The factional struggle has already taken shape. How difficult it is for the Emperor to break this deadlock."

Yang Shiqi's heart clenched tightly; he whispered: "Too late to regret, too late to regret..."

The steward did not know what he regretted, so he said nothing, only fell silent.

"Old Master, shall I have the kitchen send food over?"

Yang Shiqi waved his hand: "I cannot eat."

The steward: "Let the kitchen make you a bowl of egg custard. At least take something."

Yang Shiqi finally sighed in assent, lamenting: "I am old. I can no longer change the times. If only my strength could return to five years ago—no, even three years ago—I would dare to fight."

The steward smiled: "You are the Grand Secretary and the Junior Tutor. The late Emperor entrusted you with his heir—you are already the pinnacle of civil officials. What more is there to fight for?"

"You do not understand," Yang Shiqi said. "These are all empty titles. I have failed the late Emperor's trust."

The steward was startled and whispered: "Old Master, is the Emperor... at fault?"

Yang Shiqi's face was expressionless: "He is good. The Emperor is gifted, wise, Heavy-hearted, and ambitious—but too proud."

Too proud—that can be called arrogance.

The steward bowed his head just as the egg custard arrived. He quickly took it, stirred it gently with sesame oil, and handed it to Yang Shiqi: "Old Master, everyone has their own fate. He is the Emperor—not clay. You cannot mold him into whatever shape you wish."

Yang Shiqi looked at the steward with admiration: "You have deep insight. It took me seventy-five years to understand this truth, then I let go—only to regret it four years later. Now, hearing your words, I have awakened once more, and my heart feels less heavy."

The steward smiled: "That's all because of your teaching, Old Master. For years you've spoken of self-reflection, self-reflection—this saying is yours. I merely added a few words, and spoke it in my own way."

"It's not as elegant as your words, but I only wanted to ease your heart."

Yang Shiqi smiled warmly: "It eases my heart indeed. Enough. Let them go. I am an old man now—what can I still manage?"

"Exactly. Old Master, you've long reached the time to enjoy peace."

Though he said so and heard it, Yang Shiqi still lay awake that night.

How can Great Ming break free from this predicament?

Yang Shiqi did not wish to harm the Emperor, nor the ministers, nor the common people.

But to pursue all three at once is impossible.

Everything has its advantage and its cost. To fill the state treasury without harming the people, someone must suffer.

The world bustles for profit—even unjust gains, once in hand, are never willingly surrendered, and losses are fiercely resisted.

They will oppose. They will resist.

Where there is resistance, there are victims.

The Emperor, the people, the ministers—all may suffer.

Yang Shiqi sighed, and could not sleep again.

(End of Chapter)