MLMD -Chapter 127 Petitioning for Merit

Time passed quietly on, and the sixth year of the Chongzhen reign was no exception. In the blink of an eye, it gave way to the seventh year.

The earth awakened and revived from winter’s chill. From the old stubble of grass and plants that had been cut down by human hands, tender shoots once again sprang forth with wild vitality. Without any careful tending, they grew under the caress of wind and rain and the gentle illumination of the sun.

Counting it up, Yue Yang had been in this time and space for nearly two years now. Like a tiny butterfly, he flapped his wings with all his might, striving to change something. Yet because his wings were still too small, what he could alter so far was limited to Wuli Fort and the prefecture of Yingzhou alone.

After more than a year of painstaking effort, Wuli Fort had undergone earth-shaking changes. In the past, the fort had fewer than twenty thousand inhabitants, and its most prosperous spot was nothing more than a street less than a hundred meters long, where every gust of wind sent yellow sand filling the sky.

But in just a single year, Wuli Fort had been transformed beyond recognition. Now, both the fort and its surrounding areas were planted with high-yield crop seeds Yue Yang had brought from the modern age—potatoes, sweet potatoes, wheat, and other high-yield crops flourished everywhere in Wuli Fort and the nearby villages. Grain output reached a historic high. By last autumn’s harvest, Hai Lou had led tens of thousands of refugees in reclaiming two hundred thousand mu of wasteland, producing eighty thousand tons of grain. Wuli Fort had truly become Shanxi’s great granary.

As a result, Wuli Fort gained fame—and notoriety. In these years of widespread famine and chronic grain shortages, once word spread, countless refugees flocked there. In just half a year, sixty thousand refugees poured into Yingzhou Prefecture. Such a massive influx brought enormous pressure. Faced with refugees filling the city and its outskirts, Zheng Fakui panicked and hurried to consult Yue Yang.

Yue Yang, however, was calm and confident. He proposed several countermeasures to Zheng Fakui: gather up the impoverished scholars in Yingzhou City and send them down to serve as clerks, registrars, or minor officials. Disperse them among the countryside, factories, mines, and farms. Mine where mining was possible, reclaim land where land could be reclaimed, and run livestock operations where feasible. In this way, the refugees could quickly be absorbed and settled. At the same time, Yue Yang also sent people throughout Shanxi to spread the word, enticing scholars from all regions to come to Wuli Fort to work.

In the third lunar month of the seventh year of Chongzhen, Yue Yang—then serving as the garrison commander of Yingzhou—welcomed two distinguished guests from Taiyuan Prefecture at Wuli Fort: Shanxi Provincial Governor Xu Dingchen and the supervising eunuch Wei Tonghe.

The spring sun lazily bathed the fields. Yue Yang and Zheng Fakui led Shunbao, Hu Laosan, Wu Chengfeng, Hai Lou, Yue Laifu, and others, escorting Xu Dingchen and Wei Tonghe in a grand procession along the field ridges. Around them were common folk leading oxen and carrying hoes. The people of Wuli Fort were no longer what they had been two years ago—now that they had enough to eat, they walked through the fields full of vigor and spirit.

Seeing the energetic expressions of the people around him, Xu Dingchen stroked his beard and nodded with a smile. Inspired, he recited aloud:

“The tillers gather by the towered boats,
Spring grass spreads green across ten thousand fields.
From Wu’s gate one glimpses town and wall—
At Qingming, how many hearths send up new smoke?”

“Excellent… an excellent poem!”
Yue Yang nodded in admiration. Just as he was about to add a few words of flattery, Zheng Fakui spoke up with a smile, “My lord has an impressive memory. Zhang Ji’s Scenes at the Village Gate is indeed a fine poem, and it perfectly matches the scenery before us.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Yue Yang’s face flushed red.

“Damn it—good thing I hadn’t finished flattering yet. If Zheng Fakui hadn’t spoken first, I’d have thought this poem was composed by old Xu Dingchen himself. If I’d praised him for it, I’d have humiliated myself completely.”

“Yes indeed,” Wei Tonghe said with a chuckle. “Though this old servant is but a useless man, even I can’t help but feel delighted at such a sight. Garrison Commander Yue truly knows how to manage affairs.”

“Ahem… this is all thanks to everyone’s efforts,” Yue Yang replied, waving his hands modestly.

They arrived at a field, where an elderly farmer led over an ox draped in red silk. Yue Yang took the reins from the farmer and handed them to Xu Dingchen. “My lord, as the saying goes, the year’s plans begin in spring. Spring plowing is the foremost task of the year. As one who shepherds a region on behalf of the Son of Heaven, such a task should naturally begin with you. I ask that you do not begrudge us your guidance.”

Xu Dingchen took the reins and pointed at Yue Yang, laughing loudly. “You rascal Yue Zhenghong! I’m already an old bag of bones—do you still want me to plow fields for you? Be careful, or I’ll impeach you for disrespecting the elderly!”

Knowing Xu Dingchen was joking, Yue Yang grinned slyly. “Governor, please don’t frighten your subordinate. Isn’t Eunuch Wei right beside you? The two of you can plow together. You lead the ox, Eunuch Wei holds the plow—doesn’t that work just as well?”

“Gah-gah-gah…” Wei Tonghe laughed in his distinctive raspy voice. “Now I see it clearly—today, Lord Yue didn’t invite us here for an inspection at all. He invited two unpaid laborers!”

“Hahaha…”
Everyone burst into laughter. Behind Xu Dingchen, Tang Xueying and Zheng Fakui exchanged glances and smiled knowingly. Looking at Yue Yang, a sense of approval rose in their hearts.

Spring plowing had always been a major affair throughout the dynasties. At this time of year, even the emperor himself would go down to the fields to demonstrate its importance. Inviting Xu Dingchen and Wei Tonghe to take part was not an insult at all—it was a subtle form of flattery. If word spread, no one at court would mock them; on the contrary, they would praise their closeness to the people. Politically, it was a net gain. That was why Zheng Fakui and Tang Xueying admired Yue Yang’s cleverness—this kind of flattery was far more effective than directly gifting silver.

Sure enough, when Xu Dingchen and Wei Tonghe began plowing, two village elders approached, followed by a group of men and women farmers. As they walked, they sang loudly:

Plow deep in autumn, plow shallow in spring.
Spring plowing flips pancakes, autumn plowing digs wells.
One inch deeper in spring plowing
Beats one round of fertilizing.
Skip spring plowing in haste,
And hunger will yellow your face in autumn.
Plow well, harrow well—
Crops grow, weeds do not.
Crops don’t know father or mother,
Careful tilling brings abundant grain.

The atmosphere reached its peak. Someone nearby set off firecrackers, and the crackling sounds and acrid smoke blanketed a wide stretch of farmland…

After the lively spring plowing concluded, more than ten days later, back in Taiyuan, Xu Dingchen took up his wolf-hair brush in his study and began drafting a memorial:

“Your servant Xu Dingchen, Governor of Shanxi, respectfully submits:
In the spring of the seventh year, I was ordered to enter Jin to inspect grain storage in Shanxi. This year has seen drought and severe famine; along the roads, villages stand without cooking smoke, desolate and miserable beyond bearing. Only in northern Shanxi, in the land of Wuli Fort, do the people live in peace, with sufficient money and grain. Stores exceed one million dan—all due to the merit of Garrison Commander Yue Yang…

In my humble view, Wuli Fort lies on open plains without natural defenses and has long been a gathering place for soldiers and bandits. Now its population is dense and commerce flourishing, making it a tempting target for brigands. Moreover, the forests of Lüyashan provide cover for bandits to gather. External threats and internal troubles must both be guarded against. To rely on a single garrison commander is insufficient in emergencies. I propose establishing a roaming battalion and fortifying defenses, drawing on commercial taxes without additional burdens, thereby achieving both defense against invaders and suppression of banditry…”

At the same time, in another room, the supervising eunuch Wei Tonghe was also writing a secret memorial:

“This servant, Wei Tonghe, supervising eunuch of the Inner Palace in Shanxi, humbly wishes Your Majesty peace:
By imperial command, this servant inspected various regions of Shanxi and found banditry rampant everywhere—only Yingzhou Prefecture enjoys peace. There, Garrison Commander Yue Yang leads soldiers and civilians in land reclamation and farming, yielding countless grains, roughly estimated at over a million dan. Refugees flock there upon hearing the news, yet Yue Yang remains unflustered, gathering them in while distributing seed grain and ordering them to reclaim wasteland to stabilize hearts.

At present, Yingzhou has become the region with the highest output in Shanxi. In this servant’s humble opinion, Yue Yang is a man of great talent. The post of garrison commander no longer suffices to employ his abilities. I humbly suggest he be rewarded, to reassure the people’s hearts…”

On the third day of the fourth lunar month, 1634, before the Meridian Gate of the Forbidden City in the capital.

A middle-aged man in a brocade robe stood respectfully in the vast square before the Gate of Imperial Supremacy, head bowed as he awaited summons. He was Lu Quanyou, Commander of the Jinyiwei.

After some time, a eunuch approached and said shrilly, “Lord Lu, His Majesty summons you. Please follow me.”

Though Lu Quanyou wielded immense power as Commander of the Jinyiwei, he still dared not slight the eunuchs who served the emperor day and night. He slipped a silver ingot from his sleeve into the eunuch’s hand and smiled quietly. “Thank you for your trouble, sir. May I ask how His Majesty’s mood is today?”

The eunuch quickly withdrew his hand, weighing the silver discreetly in his sleeve, and smiled. “Lord Lu is too courteous. But rest assured—His Majesty is in excellent spirits today. Whatever Lord Lu has to say, feel free to present it.”

“My thanks, sir.”

Passing beneath layer after layer of double-eaved halls, surrounded by indescribable splendor and majesty, Lu Quanyou—though a frequent visitor to the palace—dared not look around, hurrying along behind the eunuch.

After some time, they reached the Warm Fragrance Pavilion. The eunuch said, “Lord Lu, please wait here while I report to His Majesty.”

“Please,” Lu Quanyou said with a bow.

Soon the eunuch returned. “Lord Lu, you may enter. His Majesty summons you.”

Entering the imperial study, Lu Quanyou knelt at once. “Your servant, Lu Quanyou, Commander of the Jinyiwei, kowtows before Your Majesty!”