MLMD -Chapter 128 The Quarrel Before the Throne

The Chongzhen Emperor, Zhu Youjian, sat upon the dragon throne in the Warm Fragrance Pavilion. On his left sat the current Grand Secretary, Wen Tiren; on his right were the Minister of War Yang Sichang, the Minister of Revenue Hou Xun, the Minister of Personnel Li Changgeng, the Right Vice Censor-in-Chief Chen Xin’jia, and a resolute-looking man of about thirty.

Except for Chen Xin’jia, all of them wore the standard crimson ramie-and-silk qilin robes of second-rank court dress—crossed lapels, wide sleeves, and on their chests the embroidered motif of a crane soaring among clouds. Wen Tiren, however, wore a nine-mang, five-clawed python robe, belted with jade.

This python robe was somewhat similar to the dragon robe worn by the Chongzhen Emperor, yet it was not part of the official court uniform. Rather, it was a special garment bestowed by imperial favor upon chief ministers. Receiving such a robe was considered an extraordinary honor, and Wen Tiren had only been granted this one in the fifth year of Chongzhen’s reign.

At first sight of the emperor and this group—arguably the most powerful men in the Great Ming at present—even Lu Quanyou, himself a second-rank Commander, could not help but feel a chill of apprehension.

At that moment, the Chongzhen Emperor spoke in an even tone:
“Lu Quanyou, rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Lu Quanyou kowtowed once more before slowly standing up.

Seeing him rise, a hint of a smile appeared in Chongzhen’s eyes.
“Lu Quanyou, how did the matter I ordered you to investigate a few days ago turn out?”

Lu Quanyou cupped his hands and replied, “In reply to Your Majesty, this humble servant has already ascertained the facts. The Wuli Village of Yingzhou indeed achieved a great harvest this year, producing a total of one million dan of grain. The Yingzhou Garrison Commander, Yue Yang, is indeed a man of talent. Two years ago, with only five hundred infantrymen, he broke a force of over ten thousand roving bandits. After assuming the post of Yingzhou defender, he vigorously recruited troops and suppressed banditry. At present, within a radius of a hundred li around Yingzhou Prefecture, bandits and roving rebels have all but disappeared. Since news of Wuli Village’s bumper harvest spread, merchants have flocked there, and it can truly be called a land of peace and prosperity.”

“Mm…” The Chongzhen Emperor nodded. “It seems that what Xu Dingchen and Wei Tonghe wrote in their memorials was indeed true.”

He closed his eyes slightly, then asked softly, “What do you all think, my ministers?”

At this point, Minister of Revenue Hou Xun spoke up. “Commander Lu, this official is somewhat curious. By all logic, the land of the Three Jin is cold and barren. How could it possibly produce such an abundant harvest? This clearly defies common sense. Could you give this official an explanation?”

Hou Xun’s words represented the prevailing sentiment at court. When the memorials of Xu Dingchen and Wei Tonghe had arrived almost simultaneously, both court and capital were thrown into an uproar. The first reaction of the officials was to assume that the two men were lying.

Thus, overnight, the censorial officials sharpened their pens, preparing to stay up through the night drafting impeachments accusing Xu Dingchen, Wei Tonghe, and Yue Yang of spouting demonic nonsense to curry imperial favor. Yet as they wrote, they gradually came to their senses.

Something was off. If this had been concocted by that fellow named Yue Yang alone, it might have been plausible—but who were Xu Dingchen and Wei Tonghe? One was a provincial governor, the other the supervising eunuch of Shanxi’s Zhonggong Garrison. If a provincial governor truly had such poor judgment, would that not be a slap in the face to all of them, the learned scholars?

So the half-written memorials were tossed into wastebaskets. For several days, the court fell into an eerie silence, as if the matter had never occurred. Yet in private, the topic of Wuli Village and Yingzhou’s commander Yue Yang became the hottest subject in the capital. Even the verbal sparring so beloved by censors and officials came to a halt, as everyone used their own channels to inquire into what exactly had happened at Wuli Village.

As the emperor’s eyes and ears, the Jinyiwei naturally spared no effort. At Lu Quanyou’s command, the agents embedded in Yingzhou Prefecture sent their gathered intelligence to the capital in a steady stream.

Upon receiving Lu Quanyou’s affirmative report, a surge of inexplicable joy rose in the heart of the young Chongzhen Emperor. As he listened, he studied the expressions of the assembled ministers—especially that of Minister of Revenue Hou Xun.

Aren’t you people always crying poverty? Doesn’t Hou Xun constantly complain of difficulties? Then why can a cold, remote borderland in Shanxi produce a bumper harvest, while other wealthy regions—even the so-called lands of fish and rice—keep claiming total crop failure? What does this prove? It proves that those people are nothing but parasites occupying their posts without doing their jobs. Calling them incompetent is not enough—they should be called derelict in duty.

Thinking of this, Chongzhen—who since ascending the throne had scarcely enjoyed many happy days—smiled broadly. He said warmly, “Lu Quanyou, tell me—how exactly did this Yue Yang manage his Wuli Village, turning a barren land into a land of abundance?”

“Well…”
Lu Quanyou hesitated, then replied, “Reporting to Your Majesty, this humble servant is but a rough man and not skilled in governing a region—such matters should be handled by the ministers. However, since Your Majesty asks, I will recount what I know. Yue Yang was originally only a xiucai. Though his family owned over a hundred qing of good farmland, it could only be considered modestly prosperous. But ever since two years ago, when he was…”

Lu Quanyou, worthy of being the head of the Ming Jinyiwei, had in a short time investigated most of Yue Yang’s affairs. He recounted, one by one, how Yue Yang had fought others with weapons by the Sanggan River, unified Shanxi’s salt market, driven the Wang family out of Yingzhou Prefecture, and even gone beyond the passes to marry a Mongol woman. Had Yue Yang been present, he would surely have been stunned by the efficiency and capability of this era’s intelligence apparatus.

As Chongzhen listened, his expression remained composed, but within his heart a tempest raged. This Yue Yang was truly audacious. Selling illicit salt was one thing—if he did not do it, someone else would. But daring to marry a Mongol woman, and one who was the daughter of a chieftain of the Khorchin tribe allied with Later Jin—this was no ordinary boldness. Was he truly not afraid of being punished?

Seeing Chongzhen remain silent, Wen Tiren’s eyes flickered. He stepped forward, bowed, and spoke loudly:
“Reporting to Your Majesty, though Yue Yang has gained some minor fame and is indeed adept at agricultural colonization, he has arbitrarily taken a Mongol woman as his wife—and not just any Mongol woman, but the daughter of an enemy chieftain. This old minister believes that although he may possess some talent, he is not worthy of being entrusted with important responsibilities by the court. Even if he is not punished for colluding with enemy chieftains, he should certainly not be promoted. Otherwise, where would the laws of our Great Ming stand?”

“Tsk, tsk…”
As soon as Wen Tiren finished speaking, everyone present fell into contemplation. His words were not without reason, yet they somehow felt off.

Minister of Revenue Hou Xun stood up and cupped his hands toward Wen Tiren. “Grand Secretary Wen, this subordinate believes that although Yue Yang took a Mongol woman as his wife, it is not such a grave matter, nor can it be said that he colluded with enemy chieftains. If he is not rewarded, would that not chill the hearts of meritorious subjects?”

He then turned to Chongzhen. “Your Majesty, the realm now suffers from severe drought, and harvests everywhere are poor. Only Wuli Village has achieved a great yield. The court should commend it. Moreover, the Ministry of Revenue has long been without grain. It would be fitting to dispatch officials to Yingzhou Prefecture to escort and levy grain tax to the capital, to supplement the court’s needs.”

Hou Xun was forty-four this year, a jinshi of the Bingchen cohort of Wanli forty-four (1616), ranked thirty-first in the third class. He had served successively as Censor of Shanxi Circuit, Censor of Henan Circuit, Vice Minister of the Imperial Stud, and Minister of Revenue—rising step by step to his current position.

Hou Xun had always advocated frugality, repeatedly proposing cuts to court expenditures and the stipends of regional princes. These proposals, however, were opposed by civil officials led by Wen Tiren and ultimately came to nothing.

In terms of function, the Ming Minister of Revenue was akin to a later-era finance minister. Long accustomed to an empty treasury, Hou Xun’s first thought upon hearing of Wuli Village’s bumper harvest was taxation. Though the grain tax from Wuli Village would be negligible compared to the entire Ming realm, even a mosquito’s leg was still meat—whatever could be collected was better than nothing.

Yet Hou Xun’s proposal was immediately opposed by Yang Sichang. Yang stepped forward and said, “Lord Hou’s words are mistaken. Though Wuli Village has had a good harvest, the Founder long ago decreed that newly reclaimed land be exempt from grain tax for three years. Yue Yang has only just completed the first year of cultivation, and already the court is eagerly rushing to collect silver—would that not chill the hearts of the people? If so, who would dare reclaim land and plant grain in the future?

“Moreover, this official has heard that Yue Yang commands eight thousand soldiers, whose annual grain consumption is considerable. If too much is levied and there is not even enough grain to feed the troops, and mutiny breaks out, who will take responsibility?”

Yang Sichang hailed from a distinguished family. His grandfather Yang Shifang was a renowned scholar of Wuling; his father Yang He was famous as a supervising general. Yang Sichang became a jinshi in Wanli thirty-eight (1610), serving successively as Professor of Hangzhou Prefecture, Doctor of the Nanjing Imperial Academy, and Ministry of Revenue Director. During the Tianqi era, he was sidelined by the eunuch faction and retired on grounds of illness. In Chongzhen’s first year, he was recalled as Vice Commissioner of Henan, promoted to Right Assistant Surveillance Commissioner, then to Right Vice Censor-in-Chief and Governor of Yongping. In Chongzhen’s sixth year, he became Governor of Shanhai, and in the seventh year rose to Minister of War.

Yang Sichang and Hou Xun had long been at odds. As Minister of War, Yang vigorously expanded troop recruitment and demanded that the court allocate grain and silver. Hou Xun, however, always opposed these requests on the grounds of an empty treasury. Since the Ministry of Revenue held the purse strings, Yang could only swallow his frustration. Now, upon hearing Hou Xun propose collecting grain, Yang immediately jumped out in opposition.

Hou Xun retorted at once, “But the court treasury is empty. If we do not levy taxes, may this old man ask Lord Yang—how are court expenditures to be maintained?”

Yang Sichang laughed. “That is a matter for your Ministry of Revenue. Why does Lord Hou ask this official instead?”

Hou Xun sneered. “Indeed. When Lord Yang reaches out to ask this official for silver, why do you not say that then? Very well—so long as Lord Yang agrees that from now on the Ministry of Revenue need not issue military stipends, this official will agree to exempt Wuli Village from grain tax!”

“These are two different matters.”

“No… they are the same matter…”

The two men began arguing back and forth before the throne…