Chapter 21: Deep-Seated Corruptions Become Illness, Reluctantly Accepting the Urge to Ascend

After the morning court urged his ascension, Zhu Yijun unusually left early.

The reason was simple: today was the day the Ciqing Palace was being cleared out.

Starting tonight, Zhu Yijun would take up residence in the Qianqing Palace.

These past days, the Qianqing Palace had already been prepared; the late emperor’s coffin, which had been kept there, would today be moved to another hall.

Similarly, all furnishings in the Ciqing Palace would be gathered—either sealed away as sacred relics or transported together to the Qianqing Palace.

“This coat is no longer wearable—why take it to the Qianqing Palace?” Li Imperial Consort asked, glancing at Zhu Yijun in confusion.

Zhu Yijun took the coat from Li Imperial Consort’s hands and rubbed it gently.

“This coat was sewn by Mother’s own hands; every time I wear it, I feel your warmth and love—even if I can’t wear it anymore, it’s still good for warming my feet at night.”

He skillfully deployed the weapon of maternal affection to win over Li Imperial Consort.

Li Imperial Consort pinched her son’s cheek gently and said softly, “Winter is still far off—I’ll make you a new one this year.”

Still, she ordered the maids to seal the coat away.

Zhu Yijun smiled: “Thank you, Mother.”

Li Imperial Consort felt warmth in her heart but dared not show it, so she pointed to another pile of items: “What shall you do with these—seal them away or take them to the Qianqing Palace?”

Zhu Yijun followed her gaze.

There lay a heap of childish toys: spinning tops, mechanical gadgets, and the like.

Most had been presented by eunuchs under someone’s instruction, but Zhu Yijun had barely glanced at them lately and nearly forgotten them.

Zhu Yijun shook his head: “My mind is filled with the affairs of the Nine Provinces—I have no heart left for such trinkets.”

Li Imperial Consort nodded in satisfaction and ordered the attendants to seal them all away.

“Come, let’s walk to the Qianqing Palace with me.”

Saying this, she took Zhu Yijun’s hand and stepped out of the Ciqing Palace.

As soon as they stepped outside, Feng Bao arrived with attendants carrying a palanquin: “Your Majesty, Master.”

Li Imperial Consort was about to speak when Zhu Yijun tugged her hand: “Mother, we haven’t had a proper walk together in days—let’s walk instead.”

Naturally, a mother could not refuse her son’s request; Li Imperial Consort turned to Feng Bao: “Feng Da, dismiss the palanquin—I’ll stroll with my son.”

Feng Bao quickly signaled his men to remove the palanquin and arranged for attendants to clear the path ahead, then respectfully followed behind them.

It was only just summer, and the weather was still mild.

Both mother and son wore plain robes as they walked slowly through the Forbidden City.

The imperial palace loomed majestic and splendid, its roads broad and immaculate; they chatted as they walked, occasionally making Li Imperial Consort cover her mouth and laugh, savoring this rare moment of familial joy.

Zhu Yijun pretended to glance back casually and said: “Feng Daban, keep your distance—I need to speak privately with Mother; it’s not for your ears.”

Feng Bao had been pretending to be invisible, straining to listen; suddenly called out, he froze, made no move, and instead looked at Li Imperial Consort.

Li Imperial Consort was in high spirits and waved her hand dismissively, signaling him to fall farther behind.

Feng Bao had no choice but to slow his pace.

Zhu Yijun, seeing him retreat, finally relaxed.

He turned to Li Imperial Consort and continued: “I’ve spoken so much—Mother, if you have any worries, tell me. I’ve learned many principles from my tutors lately!”

Li Imperial Consort chuckled and shook her head: “As long as you study hard and cultivate virtue, what worries could I possibly have? Even if I did, they’re state affairs—you wouldn’t understand.”

Zhu Yijun protested: “How could I not understand? Are you troubled by the Examination System and the Ministry of Revenue refusing to transfer ten thousand taels into the Inner Treasury?”

Li Imperial Consort looked at him in surprise.

Curious, she asked: “Oh? Suppose I am—what wisdom do you have to offer me?”

She did not fly into anger at the mention of her edict being rejected; instead, she watched Zhu Yijun with keen interest.

In truth, the matter had already been thoroughly discussed these past days.

First, the late emperor repeatedly drew silver from the Imperial Treasury and the Guanglu Temple’s stores without ever repaying it—blurring public and private funds, he had no moral standing.

Second, the current Ministry of Revenue was truly stretched thin.

The late emperor’s death came suddenly, bringing unexpected expenses for the mausoleum and ceremonies; the Yellow River was in summer flood season, and the Ministry of Works had already diverted funds; let alone the unpaid military pay and salaries from prior years.

Gao Gong’s intervention to block the palace’s hand was not merely his own will—it had won the support or tacit approval of nearly half the court, from the Ministries of Works, War, Rites, and Revenue.

Li Imperial Consort understood the gravity and did not escalate the matter.

Zhu Yijun now had the Embroidered Uniform Guard as his eyes and ears—these matters had not escaped him.

He weighed his words, chose his opening, and spoke slowly: “Let’s begin with the silver.”

“Mother, as a benevolent elder, you surely don’t covet these ten thousand taels—you fear this will become a precedent, eroding the Inner Treasury’s authority and leaving me no full treasury to inherit, correct?”

Whether true or not, first place the crown on his head, then steer the argument—ignoring the fact that the Ministry of Personnel had withheld funds, if the question is how to replenish the Inner Treasury, I do have ideas.

Li Imperial Consort thought for a moment; though she might have some interest in the silver, the rest rang true enough. After hesitation, she nodded.

Zhu Yijun remained expressionless: “If you wish to replenish the Inner Treasury… Mother, I have a solution that benefits both sides.”

Li Imperial Consort blinked: “A solution that benefits both sides?”

Zhu Yijun paused, then, under Li Imperial Consort’s puzzled gaze, said: “Mother, let me give you an example.”

“Do you know how much tribute tea the palace consumed last year?”

Though she held high rank, Li Imperial Consort rarely paid attention to such details; after careful thought, she replied: “Fourteen thousand jin?”

This was the figure the late emperor had mentioned in casual conversation—the tribute tea quota was capped at this amount.

It included gifts, sacrifices, and allocations to the Ministry of Revenue and Nanjing.

Zhu Yijun shook his head: “Mother, last year, it was eighty thousand jin.”

Li Imperial Consort gasped: “Eighty thousand jin? How could the palace possibly use so much?!”

Zhu Yijun sighed: “During Emperor Taizu’s Hongwu reign, tribute tea amounted to only four thousand jin; the Emperor, deeming it burdensome to the people, established five hundred tea households, exempted them from labor duties, and assigned them solely to tea production—what we call imperial gardens and official kilns.”

“Beyond these imperial gardens and kilns, other provinces’ tea growers produced tea independently, paying the Inner Treasury six fen of silver per jin.”

“During your late husband’s reign, though the quota was set at fourteen thousand jin, according to Guanglu Temple’s accounts, the Inner Treasury’s tea consumption increased yearly—by last year, it had reached eighty thousand jin!”

“That extra sixty thousand jin amounts to a full thirty-six thousand taels of silver!”

Zhu Yijun glanced at the attendants behind them.

Li Imperial Consort was no fool—she immediately understood: palace staff had been pocketing profits.

By inflating losses, each person could siphon off multiples of the actual amount.

She fell silent for a moment before saying: “No wonder the Inner Treasury is always short of silver.”

She did not mention investigating the matter—she couldn’t investigate everything; what if she uncovered something worse?

She knew well that court officials lived by corruption; she held no illusions about eunuchs.

But she had never imagined the numbers were this outrageous!

She had accepted that palace maids and eunuchs took two or three percent—but she hadn’t realized the palace itself was taking two percent!

A single tribute tea scheme had thirty-six thousand taels of fraud—what of gold flowers, paper money, grain, silk, tea, wax, and pigments?

Every year, hundreds of thousands of taels poured into the Inner Treasury—and vanished completely!

Zhu Yijun nodded: “Mother, this is only the hidden corruption.”

“There is also open theft: half the calligraphy, paintings, and rare books in the Wenyuan Pavilion are now forgeries.”

“The bolder ones simply stole them outright.”

He glanced sidelong at Feng Bao.

The famed painting “Along the River During the Qingming Festival,” now housed in the Palace Museum, still bore Feng Bao’s personal seal.

It boldly bore the inscription: “Even the Pearl of Sui and the Jade of He are not worth comparing—it is truly a treasure of the age, to be cherished.” How brazen it was.

Li Imperial Consort grew even more silent; she now realized how difficult it was to run this household.

Zhu Yijun pressed on: “If things continue this way, even if you force the Ministry of Revenue to send silver to the Inner Treasury every year, it won’t be enough for those below to divide—and we’ll earn the reputation of villains.”

“Mother, I’ll speak later about the Ministry of Revenue’s diversion of Inner Treasury funds; right now, if you wish to replenish the Inner Treasury, you must cut expenditures.”

His tone was gentle, persuasive.

But Li Imperial Consort suddenly realized something: “How do you know all this?”

She frowned: “Who has been whispering palace secrets to you?”

These matters were unknown even to her—how could her ignorant son know them so clearly?

The court debates, tea regulations, book thefts—they involved the Ministry of Revenue, Guanglu Temple, and the inner court; none of this was casual gossip.

Could it be Gao Gong…?

Li Imperial Consort feared an outside minister had manipulated her son, sent as a spy.

Zhu Yijun did not answer directly.

Instead, calmly and firmly, he shook his head: “Mother, the Book of Changes says: ‘A ruler who is not discreet loses his ministers.’ As ruler, I have received the trust of my ministers—I cannot be ‘indiscreet.’ I beg your pardon, but I cannot answer your question.”

To blurt out, "This came from Cao Wushang," like a tyrant, would be sheer folly.

A ruler must stand firm.

Li Imperial Consort’s expression darkened instantly.

Zhu Yijun saw her mood sour but did not retreat.

He gripped Li Imperial Consort’s hand tightly and spoke earnestly, word by word: “Mother, I am the new Emperor of Great Ming.”

Li Imperial Consort’s gaze sharpened.

Her son’s reaction was entirely beyond her expectations.

In a flash, the boy who had wept and begged forgiveness, timid and fragile, blurred away—replaced by the resolute, outwardly gentle yet inwardly firm new Emperor of Great Ming.

She had merely thought her son was growing wiser, calmer, more filial and insightful—and felt proud.

Now she suddenly realized: how would the eunuchs of the inner court and the ministers outside react to this new Emperor?

Is this the people’s heartfelt allegiance? Is this the universal expectation?

Right under her own nose, he had quietly built a core of loyal ministers—something she had never anticipated.

If her son were unworthy, she would be anxious; now that he had suddenly become sensible, her emotions were still deeply complicated.

She suddenly understood, just a little, how Empress Chen must have felt, helplessly watching her rule the inner palace.

After much inner turmoil and long deliberation, Lady Li had not yet been fully corrupted by power—she finally softened her expression and simply let the matter pass: “My son has truly grown up.”

Zhu Yijun exhaled in relief.

He had not merely acted out of sincerity—he had also intended to test her, to prepare her in advance.

If he tasted the flavor of power and became uncontrollable, the situation would become dire; fortunately, judging by his current demeanor, he still knew his limits.

Seeing Lady Li’s attitude soften, he immediately seized her hand with a flattering smile: “Mother, now that I’ve grown, I can serve you better.”

Lady Li looked at her son’s childish plea and sighed, shaking her head: “Go on. What’s the connection between streamlining expenditures and the Assessment Method? How can both be achieved?”

Zhu Yijun wisely let the matter drop: “Mother, the Assessment Method need not be applied solely to civil and military officials.”

The Assessment Method does more than urge officials to complete their duties—it inherently carries an anti-corruption function.

Zhang Juzheng’s Assessment Method entrusts the Six Ministries and the Censorate with recording the deadlines for all tasks assigned to their subordinate officials, establishing three ledgers.

These ledgers record the expected completion dates for each task: one kept by the Six Ministries and the Censorate, one sent to the Six Censorial Offices, and one submitted to the Grand Secretariat.

According to these ledgers, the Six Ministries and the Censorate must inspect officials’ progress monthly, marking each completed task; uncompleted tasks must be reported truthfully, or punishment will follow.

Though it seems unrelated to anti-corruption, it inherently possesses two functions: clear assignment of authority and responsibility, and documented record-keeping.

That is, defined job roles and ledger documentation.

With these two tools, superiors can trace actions, and subordinates can be held accountable.

Wasn’t the tribute tea consumption increased by sixty thousand jin?

Who was responsible? Where did it all go?

Previously, management was chaotic, with no records to check.

Once the Assessment Method is enforced, with clear authority and responsibility, it becomes immediate to identify who was in charge—and who is naked in the water will be instantly exposed; no one can evade blame.

Likewise, with ledger records, every transfer and use leaves a trace: who handled it, how much was used, and the discrepancy becomes instantly clear.

When something goes wrong, whether superiors pursue accountability becomes a single decision.

This is the sword hanging over every official’s head—and one of the main reasons for the fierce resistance today.

This method may not be perfect, but at least it takes the first institutional step toward anti-corruption and official discipline; as for what comes after… too big a step risks tearing your groin.

That’s enough. Rectifying officialdom has never had an endpoint; as long as he lives, this will never stop.

When the demon advances a foot, the Dao advances two; when the demon advances three feet, the Dao advances further still—this is the spiral upward.

Lady Li immediately understood: “You want to implement the Assessment Method inside the palace!?”

Zhu Yijun shook his head.

To play such a game in the core departments—any day you might wake up strangled without knowing why—you must first sound the warning drum.

He carefully said: “Mother, this matter is too harsh for the inner court; to roll it out abruptly would harm your virtuous reputation.”

“You already fear disorder; I am here to ease your burdens, not add to them.”

This was precisely the concern Lady Li harbored.

She had hesitated even over the Assessment Method in the outer court—how could she possibly approve its implementation inside the palace?

Thus, Zhu Yijun needed to dispel her doubts.

She asked, puzzled: “Then what is your intention, my son?”

Zhu Yijun spoke slowly: “Mother, I have an idea.”

“First, this matter is too large to roll out abruptly; better to start with one or two pilot areas, proceed gradually.”

Lady Li pressed: “How will you proceed gradually?”

Zhu Yijun answered frankly: “Outside the palace, implement the Assessment Method only within Shuntian Prefecture; no further expansion for now.”

“Inside the palace, use the Needlework Bureau as a trial, assign it to Zhang Hong to oversee, with you watching—then we can see if it works, and avoid being deceived by outer court ministers.”

“I, too, can learn by observing and accumulating experience.”

“Though this will take longer, it allows us to identify shortcomings and errors, and to cultivate a group of experienced personnel for future expansion.”

“If it proves ineffective, halt it immediately; if effective, it will save funds for the inner treasury.”

Lady Li had always favored compromise.

To implement the Assessment Method across both capitals and the thirteen provinces might leave her indecisive.

But if limited to the tiny Needlework Bureau and the modest Shuntian Prefecture, she could accept it far more readily.