IDWBE -Chapter 386 Clan Stipends

Lin Yi said, “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Keep stammering like that again and I’ll take your head to sacrifice to the banner.”

He now finally understood Old Twelve’s helplessness.

With someone like Chen Jingzhi—slick as oil, impossible to pin down—if you wanted to kill him, you truly couldn’t find a proper reason.

Yes, the man was corrupt, but he was also genuinely capable. Everything he handled was done properly and efficiently. He was useful—too useful to kill.

The more Lin Yi thought about it, the more annoyed he became.

“Your Highness,” Chen Jingzhi said meekly, lowering his brows, “these are only the clansmen within Ankang City. Once the news spreads in a few days, I fear even more will come. If things escalate, it will become increasingly difficult to control.”

The Liang Dynasty had stood for over two hundred years. Imperial sons and grandsons were countless. From birth, they never needed to work a day in their lives—the state treasury supported them entirely.

Military pay might be withheld, but the stipends of the imperial clan could not be reduced.

In the most difficult times, Emperor Delong had cautiously approached some clansmen, urging them to resign their stipends or reduce their grain allowances. No one paid him the slightest heed.

The emperor could kill his own brothers without mercy, yet toward these clansmen he was powerless.

Later, as finances worsened, neither the inner treasury nor the outer treasury could afford the stipends, and payments gradually turned into arrears.

But even then, Emperor Delong had not dared to openly abolish them.

To alter ancestral law was to shake the foundation of the state.

Chen Jingzhi harbored deep resentment toward Lin Yi. The stipends were already unpaid; they could simply continue withholding them quietly. Everyone understood the situation without saying it aloud.

Now, issuing a grand edict and provoking so many clansmen to flood the capital—how could this possibly end well?

“Hmph. I’d lend them ten times the courage and they still wouldn’t dare,” Lin Yi said smugly. “Unless some fool truly doesn’t know my reputation and dares to contend with me. Do you think the blade in my hand is just for show? As long as the blade is in my hand, what I say is truth. No objections allowed.”

In Hongzhou, Yuezhou, Nanzhou, Jiangnan—everyone knew his methods. He had simply not been back in Ankang long enough to establish deterrence here.

“Your Highness, such actions involve far-reaching consequences,” Chen Jingzhi said with an anxious expression.

“Reform is not hosting a banquet, nor writing poetry and essays. It cannot be gentle and courteous,” Lin Yi replied lazily. “It must strike like thunder. Not only my imperial kin—even those landlords and wealthy elites—I will not spare them. Behind vermilion gates, wine and meat rot; on the road, the frozen die. If this continues, the realm will become even harder to sustain. I would rather offend the nobles than offend the common people.”

The gentry bloc—composed of imperial relatives, meritorious nobles, eunuchs, bureaucrats, examination graduates, and clerks—not only enjoyed tax exemptions and privileges, but when they committed crimes, they were not punished like commoners.

They were products and beneficiaries of an unjust system. Living in comfort, abusing power, exploiting authority for personal gain, clinging rigidly to old ideas.

To preserve their vested interests, they opposed any substantive reform.

Lin Yi would not tolerate it.

If society was to develop and progress, he had to wield the knife against them.

Otherwise, superficial political gestures were meaningless.

“Your Highness is wise! The descendants of princes are scattered throughout the land, yet though they hold no duties, they receive lavish stipends. To exhaust the strength of the entire realm would still be insufficient to support them,” Yu Boxu, who had been standing behind Lin Yi, suddenly spoke loudly. “If we wait to debate only after the issue arises, we risk endless obstruction. But if we plan early and decide firmly, then within a single day official titles and laws can be renewed from above, and governance below will proceed in orderly fashion. Near or far, all will gradually adapt, as if nothing had changed.”

Lin Yi rolled his eyes. “General Yu, aren’t you a military officer?”

He hadn’t understood a word of that long speech.

But judging from context and tone, it was probably flattery.

Ma Jin suddenly spoke up, “Your Highness, General Yu holds the degree of jinshi.”

“I see.”

Lin Yi sighed. Were jinshi degrees so worthless these days? Everyone around him seemed to be one.

Damn it—trying to find even a third-class graduate was difficult!

Chen Jingzhi instinctively stepped back again when Ma Jin spoke.

Ma Jin continued, “Your Highness, the Founding Emperor himself established laws and revised them countless times over a century before they were perfected. To alter them rashly may be seen as grave disrespect.”

“Ma Jin, you’re a clever man. Must you oppose me just to show how different you are?”

Lin Yi glared at him. “Don’t you always say, ‘The ruler is the boat; the people are the water. Water can carry the boat; water can also overturn it’? But when it comes to actually doing something for the people, you all become timid. The Great Liang feeds so many parasites—do you think that’s good?”

Sometimes he truly wanted to kick these stubborn old men to death.

But if he really killed them, there would be no one left to use.

“Your Highness…”

Ma Jin’s face flushed red.

He was Junior Guardian, Minister of Rites, Grand Scholar of Wenhua Hall—a pillar of the court.

Neither the smiling, dagger-in-the-sleeve Crown Prince nor the domineering, honey-tongued Emperor Delong had ever spoken to him like this.

Even emperors understood the principle of mutual respect. One had to give face.

To speak like Prince He—was this not the sign of a tyrant?

A wave of sorrow rose within him.

Was it still possible to change allegiance?

From Emperor Delong to the Crown Prince, then from the Crown Prince to Prince He—if he switched again, would he not be branded a thrice-serving slave?

Would his lifelong reputation survive?

“Enough. No explanations,” Lin Yi waved impatiently. “Do as I say. Make it clear: from now on, if a prince breaks the law, he will be punished like a commoner. The Eight Deliberations—where major crimes are discussed and minor ones pardoned—are abolished. They want privilege? I won’t indulge them.”

This system allowed nobles to reduce major crimes to minor ones and erase minor ones entirely. In essence, it was legalized privilege—‘punishment does not reach the high officials.’

As the highest class, nobles and bureaucrats could commit evil freely.

A stable society may have distinctions of role—some ride in sedan chairs, others carry them; some feast, others drink plain water—but it must not divide people into inherently noble and base.

Every life is a life.

“Your Highness, please reconsider!”

Everyone was horrified.

This did not only affect imperial kin—it implicated them and their families too!

How were they supposed to function afterward?

“Objections overruled,” Lin Yi said firmly. “Of course, if any of you perform well, I can petition for special pardon.”

He did not care whether others had privileges.

But he himself must have them—

For example, the power of pardon.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

The ministers laughed bitterly.

“Draft the specifics yourselves in the Cabinet,” Lin Yi continued. “Then submit it for His Majesty’s review.”

Whether his father agreed or not did not matter.

The process had to be followed.

The clansmen and nobles needed to know the edict came from Qilin Palace.

It had nothing whatsoever to do with him. He was still an innocent child.

“Yes.”

The ministers were helpless.

Wasn’t this covering one’s ears while stealing a bell?

Did he think the nobles wouldn’t curse him anyway? Dream on.

“Strictly speaking, I’ve already been merciful,” Lin Yi said, taking a sip of tea and gazing toward the Meridian Gate. “I’ve only stopped their stipends and revoked their privileges. I haven’t investigated their past misdeeds or confiscated their lands. They can still live in luxury. Minister Gan.”

Gan Mao knelt with a thud. “Your servant is here.”

His heart pounded. Whenever Prince He called someone by name, it rarely ended well.

Lin Yi said, “You’ve been complaining that the Ministry of Revenue has no money. This is your chance to get rich. Anyone opposing the new law or crossing me—have the Clan Court accompany you to confiscate their property. Let the Three Judicial Offices jointly investigate and try them. Make sure they die knowing exactly why. Let them understand: I will not wrong a good man, nor will I spare a bad one.”

Anyone who opposed him was a bad person.

“Your Highness may rest assured. I will spare no effort,” Gan Mao declared loudly.

“Good. Minister Gong.”

“Your servant is here.”

“For the Ministry of Personnel’s grand examination, I will personally set the questions. You and He Jixiang may discuss the rest.”

“As you command.”

Lin Yi handed his tea cup back, removed the dog-fur hat he had taken from Yu Xiaoshi, shook off the snow, and said, “That’s all. Go about your duties.”

After the others left, Xiao Xizi stepped forward. “Your Highness, His Majesty’s health has worsened these days.”

“He was never well to begin with,” Lin Yi said, rubbing his forehead. “Have the Imperial Physicians remain at Qilin Palace. They must be on call at all times.”

“Yes.”

Heavy snow fell for three days straight.

Qilin Palace, usually deserted, was blanketed in white from roof to ground.

“Excellent! Truly my good son! Ignorance makes him fearless!”

Emperor Delong slammed a memorial onto the table and glared at Qi Yong beside him. “Minister Qi, will you accompany him in madness?”

Qi Yong, kneeling on the ground, slowly raised his head and said expressionlessly, “Your Majesty, the Regent insists. We ministers are helpless.”

Qi Yong bore no particular loyalty to Prince He.

But Prince He had accomplished what generations of emperors had wanted yet never dared to do. Qi Yong felt an inexplicable thrill.

At least in the future, when meeting the Princes Dai and Yong’an, he would no longer need to kneel.

At his age, that was no small relief.

“Since it’s already decided, why ask me?” Emperor Delong said coldly. “Tell my good son—I won’t die so easily. I’ll keep watching him.”

“I obey.”

Qi Yong withdrew slowly.

Outside, he said to Chen Jingzhi, who was waiting, “His Majesty has grown old.”

Chen Jingzhi, startled that the arrogant prime minister would speak to him, forced a smile. Matters concerning the emperor were not his place to comment. “Minister, the wind is strong. We should go.”

“Yes, the wind is strong today,” Qi Yong stroked his beard. “Take my card to the Clan Court. Invite the Director to discuss matters. Minister He Jixiang is correct—bandits are a minor ailment; unrest among the princes is a grave one.”

Chen Jingzhi wondered if the old man had changed temperament—so polite all of a sudden.

But he dared not delay. “Please wait, Minister. I’ll go at once.”

The news of abolishing clan stipends and the Eight Deliberations spread throughout the land.

Some cursed furiously; others rejoiced wildly.

The strongest reaction came from Ankang’s nobles. Some old men threatened daily to dash themselves against the Meridian Gate—but after making a show of it, not a single person even tried to stop them. It lost much of its drama.

Seeing the newly painted white characters on the gate—“Confess and receive leniency; resist and be punished severely”—many began reconsidering.

With houses, land, and beautiful wives at home, was it worth risking everything for a stipend?

“Are we still arresting people?” Zhou Xun asked Cao Xiaohuan.

“Can your Supreme Court prison hold any more?” Cao Xiaohuan sighed.

“Even the Clan Court’s cells are nearly full,” Zhou replied wryly. “We have no space left.”

“These old fools are too idle,” Liu Kan snorted. “If this were Sanhe, they’d be sent to labor reform. The Prince is merciful not to deal with them harshly.”

“Those who speak disrespectfully of His Highness must still be arrested,” Cao Xiaohuan said.

Zhou hesitated. “Even if we arrest them, it’s hard to convict them. Just wastes food.”

“You’re wrong,” Liu Kan sneered. “Prince He said these people drip blood and filth from every pore since birth. Investigate them and none will be clean. Maybe one or two exceptions—but a little suffering won’t hurt them.”

“I’ll consult Minister Ma first,” Zhou said.

“I’ll go with you,” Cao replied.

They left together.

After they were gone, Tao Yingyi turned meaningfully to Liu Kan. “You two aren’t young anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Liu Kan scratched his head.

“There’s no wall without cracks,” Tao smiled. “I heard your grandfather plans to propose marriage to the Zhou family?”

“That’s nonsense!” Liu Kan’s face flushed red.

Tao lowered his voice. “I speak as a brother. Be cautious. You are Commander of the Banner Guard; she is Chief Constable of the Supreme Court. You should avoid suspicion. You’re still young. Don’t ruin your future over a woman.”

“You worry too much,” Liu Kan said with a faint smile. “There’s nothing between us.”

He turned and walked away.

Tao Yingyi watched his back and sighed.