Chapter 952: Furious Outburst

Not every proposal to reduce taxes is approved by the imperial court.

“The state treasury is empty; reducing taxes will increase the burden on the Ministry of Revenue,” Chen Xun said. “If taxes aren’t collected from farmers, they must be levied on merchants—but earlier this year, the court issued edicts encouraging commerce. Now to raise merchant taxes would be to reverse policy overnight.”

Pan Yun: “When regions suffer disasters, reducing taxes is a form of relief. Otherwise, if the people are driven to despair and rebellion breaks out, the military forces, pay, and grain needed to suppress it will cost a hundred or a thousand times more than the taxes forgone.”

Pan Yun shook her head gravely. “Healing the state is like healing a man. Treating illness before it takes root costs less and brings less suffering. Must we wait until the disease has reached the marrow before applying so-called targeted remedies?”

Yu Qian stepped forward. “Your Majesty, I agree with the State Master. Last year, fierce storms struck Jiangnan; Zhejiang and the Southern Directly Governed Region suffered heavily, with countless dead and injured. Because the court’s relief came too late, some disaster victims joined Deng Maoqi’s rebellion, delaying the imperial army’s suppression—and thus tying down many troops during the late emperor’s personal campaign against the Wala.”

“Past mistakes are teachers of the future. The court should respond swiftly now, pacify the people. Moreover, most of the affected areas are prefectures and counties under Fujian—Deng Maoqi has only just surrendered, and his rebel forces were only sent home half a year ago. If mishandled, another rebellion may erupt.”

“How can the court be blackmailed by a mob of unruly peasants?”

“When the people have no way to survive, they rebel—that’s an eternal truth,” Cao Nai said. “Knowing this, why deny them a path to live? How can we sit beneath the mirror of justice with any dignity if our officials act like this?”

Zhu Qiyu clenched his teeth. He was a monarch who came to power mid-stream, and he cared most about public sentiment. Though the treasury’s emptiness was a heavy pressure, it could be resolved later.

Moreover, he trusted the State Master.

He glanced at Pan Yun and immediately decreed: “Exempt the disaster-stricken regions from corvée labor this year. Reduce grain taxes by half. Poll taxes… also by half.”

Yu Qian and the other ministers turned to Chen Xun.

Chen Xun swiftly ran through the annual grain and poll tax figures for Quanzhou’s prefectures, and in a flash, calculated the approximate total.

Chen Xun clenched his eyes shut tightly. Yu Qian immediately knew this had crossed the Ministry of Revenue’s bottom line, so he replied: “Your Majesty’s wisdom is profound. The Grand Secretariat will draft the imperial edict at once.”

Zhu Qiyu nodded slightly. “Proclaim it throughout the realm. Send Censorate officials to deliver relief. Local officials must not impose additional taxes under any pretext.”

The hardest part was tax reduction. As for a general amnesty, there were established legal provisions—Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review knew them well.

Political prisoners were generally excluded from amnesty. Those eligible were mostly criminals charged with resisting taxes or levies, tax evasion, theft, or similar offenses.

The emperor scanned the list, checked off names, then added Pu Min’s name beneath. He handed the list to Pan Yun. “State Master, what do you think?”

Pan Yun lifted her tea, leaned forward, glanced at it, and nodded. “That’s him. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Zhu Qiyu smiled indifferently. “The State Master acts for my benefit.”

Had Pan Yun not mentioned it, he wouldn’t have known that Pu Si of Quanzhou had pledged loyalty to his elder brother.

He had heard that Pu Si had purchased several ocean-going ships and interfered in maritime trade, yet the revenues owed to the Neiwu Prefecture had still not arrived.

One rat only hoards food in its own nest, monopolizing the good things. Add another rat, and it learns to offer tribute to its parents—it can’t just eat for itself.

The Grand Secretariat reviewed the list, fell silent for an instant, then stamped it. The Ministry of Justice said nothing. The list went to the Court of Judicial Review, where the newly promoted Minister, Xue Xuan, frowned at the last name: “Isn’t this the criminal who colluded with sea pirates to ambush the envoy mission and the silver fleet? He was already given leniency by being sentenced to exile—why is he on the amnesty list?”

The official delivering the list had no idea.

He could only say: “This name was added by the emperor’s own brush. The Grand Secretariat, the Censorate, and the Ministry of Justice have all approved it.”

Xue Xuan slammed the list shut. “I won’t execute this. Send it back to the Censorate and Ministry of Justice. Make them explain why this man was added.”

Xue Xuan said: “By law, he is not eligible for amnesty.”

The official’s head throbbed. He was only a fifth-rank official—why was he made to handle this?

But everyone knew Xue Xuan’s stubborn nature. He could only slouch and take the list away.

The Censorate and Ministry of Justice gnashed their teeth, privately complaining: “This was approved by the Grand Secretariat and endorsed by the emperor’s brush—how can we refuse? Xue Xuan is bold, but let him go speak to the emperor himself!”

Neither department dared approach the Grand Secretariat or the emperor. The next day, they sent another official to deliver the list again. Xue Xuan sent it back once more.

After three such exchanges, Pan Yun, who had been waiting in the Ministry of Works, grew impatient and casually asked the Director of the Spring Bureau: “Has the imperial amnesty list been issued?”

The Director of the Spring Bureau had been enjoying the drama these past days. Hearing this, he perked up, eyes gleaming. “You’ve heard about it too?”

“Heard what?”

The Director of the Spring Bureau immediately grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds and leaned close, whispering: “They say it’s karma—after all these years, the Court of Judicial Review, the Censorate, and the Ministry of Justice are at it again, and this time Xue Xuan has the upper hand.”

Pan Yun inquired further and learned the amnesty list was stuck at Xue Xuan’s desk.

She didn’t blame Xue Xuan. She simply couldn’t understand the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate: “Why don’t they explain to Xue Xuan?”

The Director of the Spring Bureau blinked. “This was endorsed by the emperor’s brush and approved by the Grand Secretariat—how can the Ministry of Justice and Censorate explain?”

“Why not?” Pan Yun asked. “It’s their duty. Doesn’t Xue Xuan’s question matter to them? If they have no answer, why not respond to his question?”

Pan Yun’s face turned stern. “The Ministry of Justice and the Censorate are derelict in duty.”

The Director of the Spring Bureau stared blankly. After a long pause, he muttered: “Didn’t you ask the emperor to add the name?”

Pan Yun glanced at him. “How do you know?”

The Director of the Spring Bureau: “Lots of people know~~”

Pan Yun: “Do the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate know?”

The Director of the Spring Bureau hesitated, then nodded. “They probably know.”

“If they know, why don’t they ask or answer?”

The Director of the Spring Bureau swallowed hard. “Are you telling them to ask… or not to ask?”

Pan Yun rose. “Whether they ask or not, I have no guilt. I uphold procedural justice.”

Pan Yun truly upheld procedural justice. As State Master, she could directly approach the emperor, who held the power of special pardon—so she could have the emperor add Pu Min’s name.

The Grand Secretariat, the Censorate, the Ministry of Justice, and the Court of Judicial Review all had the right to question and refuse.

The Grand Secretariat didn’t ask—most likely because those old men were sharp and had already guessed her and the emperor’s intent, so they chose silence.

But the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate didn’t ask—did they truly know, or were they pretending to know?

Xue Xuan had done nothing wrong.

In her view, the problem lay with the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate. It was a simple matter—just follow procedure.

Procedural justice was clear; the reason to pardon Pu Min was sufficient. Xue Xuan wasn’t a rigid old fool—Pan Yun was certain he wouldn’t oppose it once he understood.

Yet the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate refused the straightforward path, choosing instead to create complications—and they thought themselves loyal, defending the emperor?

Pan Yun ground her teeth and muttered: “Fools!”

Only after Xue Xuan sent the list back the third time was he privately informed that the name had been added at the State Master’s request.

Xue Xuan heard this, still sent the list back, and muttered the same phrase as Pan Yun: “Fools!”

Then he wrote a memorial that night, impeaching the Censorate and the Ministry of Justice.

The Censorate and Ministry of Justice had been waiting. The next day, when the impeachment arrived, both departments immediately joined forces to counter-impeach Xue Xuan.

Zhu Qiyu sat silently on the dragon throne, listening.

The night before, Pan Yun had scolded the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review for half an hour in front of him.

She’d only left when her throat was dry and her anger still unsated.

He looked down from his high seat at the furious officials of the Censorate and Ministry of Justice, his face expressionless.

Had Pan Yun not scolded them the night before, he would have despised Xue Xuan today and believed he was deliberately defying him.

But because Pan Yun had first exposed the hidden motives, Zhu Qiyu could no longer be fooled.

He even harbored one more layer of suspicion than Pan Yun.

Were they, as Pan Yun said, too afraid to offend him or the Grand Secretariat, so they ignored the irregularity to protect themselves?

Or were they deliberately provoking Xue Xuan to retaliate, hoping to make him and the Grand Secretariat despise Xue Xuan?

If the former, they were despicable—state instruments disregarding procedure, only seeking self-preservation.

If the latter, even more despicable—willing to use him and the Grand Secretariat as weapons to destroy political rivals, driven by private gain.

When the Censorate and Ministry of Justice officials finished their accusations, the emperor turned to Xue Xuan. “Xue Xuan, what do you have to say?”

Xue Xuan stepped forward. “Your Majesty, I acted strictly by law. Pu Min’s crimes are not eligible for amnesty under statute. I naturally questioned it. The Ministry of Justice and the Censorate, knowing there was irregularity, refused to answer me—that is dereliction of duty.”

The emperor turned to the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate.

Their officials leapt up, claiming Xue Xuan was deliberately harassing them, settling old scores, and delaying state affairs.

“The list was reviewed by the Grand Secretariat—what problem could there be?”

The emperor asked: “If there’s no problem, why didn’t you answer the Court of Judicial Review?”

“I said there was no problem…”

The emperor countered: “What’s your reason?”

The official choked, sensing the atmosphere had turned, and lowered his voice eightfold: “This was endorsed by the emperor’s brush and reviewed by the Grand Secretariat—what problem could there be?”

The official grew more confident, his voice rising again: “Besides, review is the Grand Secretariat’s and Censorate’s duty. The Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review only execute. I have no authority to review.”

Zhu Qiyu suppressed his temper. “What does the Censorate say?”

The Censorate also believed that an edict approved by the emperor and the Grand Secretariat could have no flaw.

Zhu Qiyu flew into a rage. For the first time in a grand court assembly, he pointed at the noses of the Minister of Justice and the Censorate’s Chief Censor. “You are state parasites! Incompetents! A simple matter has been delayed five days by your three departments. The Censorate’s relief envoys have already reached Quanzhou, yet you still bicker over a list!”

He scolded the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate for caring only for personal gain and power, ignoring clear irregularities to please him and the Grand Secretariat.

He also scolded Xue Xuan for being inflexible: “You knew you wouldn’t get answers from the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate, yet you didn’t report or ask—do you think you can’t see me? Or can’t come to me?”

“The State Master said you all care only for yourselves—and she was right. Great Ming is cursed to have you! Five days! If any criminal eligible for amnesty dies during this delay, the sin falls on you!”

The emperor imposed heavy penalties on the Ministry of Justice and the Censorate. As for Xue Xuan, because he upheld procedural justice, the emperor only reprimanded him—no punishment.

The Ministry of Justice and the Censorate were not only punished but also formally reprimanded by imperial decree.

In recent years, these two departments had been reprimanded twice—and both times, it was because of Xue Xuan.

Wang Wen walked out of the hall, his face ashen. He glanced wearily at the silent Xue Xuan, then turned and left without expression.

The emperor, before the entire court, explained the list.

“Pu Min is talented—he is precisely the kind of talent I can use. Hence, I have granted him amnesty.”

This reason was sufficient and followed procedure. The ministers accepted it.

The list was then stamped and approved. That same day, the Court of Judicial Review issued the pardon notices to the places of imprisonment and the convicts’ home jurisdictions.

From this incident, all officials understood: this emperor was alert and rule-bound, and despised those who pursued private gain at the expense of state affairs.

As the ruler goes, so go the subjects. Officials gradually became more restrained, adhering to procedure, fearing that any deviation might be caught and used against them.

Yu Qian was greatly relieved. That night, he went home and spent money to send his young son to the general store to buy two taels of wine. After drinking it, he sighed contentedly to his wife: “The emperor’s outburst this time has done more to clean up the bureaucracy than my six months of efforts. Indeed, as the ruler goes, so go the subjects. When the emperor upholds law, officials uphold law. When the emperor cares for the people, officials care for the people.”

Dong Shi smiled: “Are you happy inside?”

Yu Qian nodded generously in admission: “Happy! Extremely happy!”

Many ministers in court shared Yu Qian’s joy, and they also understood why His Majesty had reacted that way.

Afterwards, they all learned that the night before the incident, the State Tutor had visited the Emperor.

The name was added by the Emperor at the State Tutor’s request; she did not blame Xue Xuan for blocking the list, but instead taught the Emperor to view this matter from the perspective of the state and the law.

“The State Tutor… she is teaching His Majesty how to be a true emperor. His Majesty ascended the throne mid-reign—a misfortune for the nation—but with the State Tutor as his advisor, it is truly a blessing for the state.”

“It’s a pity the State Tutor is a Daoist priest—what of the future…”

“She doesn’t refine elixirs; she loves refining artifacts. Thank goodness, thank goodness…”

Many ministers felt relieved, and the Ministry of Works also felt very satisfied.

Since Pan Yun became State Tutor, their Ministry’s budget has steadily increased—and so has the actual amount disbursed.

The pardon edicts had already left the capital, and Pan Yun was just about to depart when officials from the Ministry of Works rushed to the Imperial Astronomical Bureau to find her, exclaiming joyfully: “State Tutor, we’ve built six telegraph machines; two of them developed issues during testing. We don’t know where the faults lie—please come and inspect them.”

Pan Yun could only go with them first, then wrote to Wang Cong and others in Quanzhou: “I’m busy—focus on relief efforts. Once I’m free, I’ll come find you, or once your relief work is done, come to the capital to find me.”