Chapter 706: Soft Words, Not Hard Force

Xue Shao arrived outside Jingcheng last night; as soon as the city gates opened in the morning, he entered, immediately went to the relay station to wash and change into his official robe, took the memorials he had written on the journey, and entered the palace to request an audience.

The Emperor was still diligent, holding a grand court session today.

As Xue Shao stood outside the hall waiting for the guards to announce him, he happened to hear them arguing about the southern miners' rebellion.

Investigate the cause?

Xue Shao let out a bitter laugh—if the Emperor had read the memorial he submitted in mid-May, he would have known the reason.

The miners, silk reeling workers, and dye workers in the south suffered terribly and were paid extremely low wages.

The silk reeling and dye workers were less problematic; they were employed by merchants and gentry, and when they rebelled, they could strike or bargain with merchants and gentry, at worst escalating into armed clashes.

Only the miners were different: private mines were somewhat less severe, first because mine owners used a mix of kindness and intimidation, fearing too much harshness would provoke conflict with the miners;

second, private mine owners did not enforce discipline so strictly, allowing miners to sneak around and make life slightly easier, so they could merely endure.

But imperial mines were different—harsh, with low wages and long hours; these problems existed not only in southern mines but also elsewhere.

Of course, there were some benevolent officials who managed mines well—but they were extremely rare.

During his inspection tour in the south, Xue Shao had visited several mines in Zhejiang and Fujian, where he had seen on the miners' faces a numbness hiding beneath it anger and resentment.

But they had suppressed these emotions deep inside, never letting them erupt.

At the time, he had been alarmed, fearing that if things continued, official oppression would force the people to rebel—and it would be hard to quell.

So in late May, he submitted a memorial urging the Emperor to improve the miners' conditions, raise their wages, and shorten their time underground;

second, to investigate corrupt officials and overseers who abused miners and embezzled funds;

third, to request the Emperor send troops to patrol the mines and deter those with ill intentions…

He had not waited for a reply before sailing to Japan.

Clearly, the Emperor had not taken that memorial seriously—otherwise, a month later, he would not still be debating the cause of the miners' rebellion in court.

Xue Shao wondered: how had Deng Maoqi, a farmer who had killed someone and knew only one miner, grown from an initial force of eight hundred to over thirty thousand in barely half a month, capturing five cities?

Naturally, because they were willing to follow him in rebellion!

Xue Shao thought this, and said it: kneeling in the great hall, he said respectfully, "Your Majesty, for some, rebellion is a stepping stone—a path to resources and profit; I cannot say there are no such people behind Deng Maoqi's rebellion;

but for the most ordinary people at the bottom, they rebel only because they can no longer survive—and neither can their families!

And these people are the majority; Deng Maoqi raised thirty thousand in half a month and captured five cities; next, even more will join him and take even more cities.

At this point, has Your Majesty or any of the ministers ever considered why the people would risk execution of their entire clans to follow Deng Maoqi in rebellion?"

The Emperor's face turned black.

Wang Zhen roared: "Audacious! Xue Shao, how dare you so covertly mock the Emperor? Guards, drag him out!"

"Your Majesty!" Xue Shao raised a memorial above his head and said solemnly, "This is what I witnessed on my way back to Jingcheng—the southern region has been ravaged by wind and flood: homes destroyed, livestock dead, farmland ruined, the people displaced; it has been over twenty days since the disaster, yet the imperial court has sent no relief grain or dispatched any censor to investigate…"

"Xue Shao, you are the Censor who inspected the south," Wang Wen snapped. "This is your negligence, yet now you blame the court and the Emperor? How neatly you absolve yourself!"

Xue Shao said solemnly, "This is indeed my fault, and I accept punishment—but when the wind and flood struck, I was not in the south; I was aboard the Jiangnan Naval Command's ships, hunting pirates in Japan…"

"Pirate suppression is the Navy's duty—what does it have to do with you, a censor?"

"I reported this to the Censorate," Xue Shao said, raising his head to meet Wang Wen's gaze coldly. "The Censor-in-Chief should have known I was not in the south. As soon as the disaster struck, the Censor-in-Chief should have immediately dispatched a new censor to investigate. I am guilty—but my lord, you too are guilty of negligence and dereliction of duty!"

"You—!"

Cao Nai stepped forward and asked, "As the Censor who inspected the south, what is your view on how to resolve the southern rebels?"

Xue Shao said solemnly, "We must first seek to pacify them. Your Majesty, I volunteer to serve as envoy to negotiate the surrender of Deng Maoqi and others."

"No!" Wang Zhen objected. "Your Majesty, these rabble are accustomed to pushing for more; if we pacify them today and grant their demands, tomorrow others will copy them—rebellion will become a tool to achieve their ends, and peace will vanish from the realm."

Wang Wen agreed: "We must crush them with force, instilling fear so they dare not rebel again."

The Emperor asked, "What do you ministers think?"

The hall immediately split into three factions: one sided with Wang Zhen, mostly military officers, who believed these rebels—armed with nothing, lacking even weapons or armor—were no different from watermelons to be sliced open.

There was no need for impeachment; just send a thousand troops, with local garrisons assisting, and they could crush them effortlessly.

The second faction sided with Xue Shao, led by civil officials such as Chen Xun and Cao Nai.

They believed that since the south was already suffering from disaster, it was better to use funds and grain for pacification than for military campaigns, saving resources to aid the victims.

Besides, only a few leaders were involved; if we gave them minor official posts and raised the workers' wages, everyone would get what they wanted—and the rebellion would dissolve.

To be honest, they truly believed the miners' wages were too low and their hours too long.

The third faction was neutral, silent, each man minding his own business, heads bowed as if they did not exist.

Like Yin Song, who sought to drift along.

The Emperor was a stubborn man—he responded to softness, not hardness.

He deeply despised these rebels who constantly rose up and trampled his dignity underfoot;

moreover, he suspected they were instigated by former private mine owners, colluding with local gentry and southern officials to foment rebellion.

What about low wages?

Were low wages a matter of one or two days?

Why did they never rebel before—only now, after the silver mine reopened?

The Emperor immediately said, "Song Zhang of Fujian is useless in battle. Liu Ju, Chen Rong—"

Deputy Commander Liu Ju and Ministry of War official Chen Rong stepped forward, bowing: "Your servants are here."

"I appoint you two as Regional Commander and Deputy Regional Commander, leading ten thousand troops to suppress the rebellion!"

They accepted the order.

Xue Shao lowered his head, closed his eyes in sorrow, then raised them again—his expression had returned to calm.

Wang Zhen's lips curled slightly as he glanced at him with self-satisfaction.

The Emperor added, "Zhang Kai—"

Censor Zhang Kai stepped forward: "Your servant is here."

"I order you to oversee the army. You must quell the rebellion and pacify the people within one month!"

Zhang Kai bowed and accepted: "Yes!" (End of chapter)