MLMD -Chapter 360 Dividing Up the Silver

Cheng Guoxiang shot Jiang Fengyuan a look full of contempt, as if he were staring at an idiot, and said disdainfully, “Minister Jiang, you’d better stop worrying about the affairs of the Ministry of Revenue. Go back to your Ministry of Rites and mind your own business.”

“You are outrageous—” Being ignored by Cheng Guoxiang, and even scorned like this in front of the emperor and all the grand secretaries, Jiang Fengyuan felt that if he didn’t react now, he would never again have the face to attend such meetings.

Jiang Fengyuan immediately jumped up, his voice trembling as he shouted, “Cheng Guoxiang… you… you are audacious!”

Having said that, Jiang Fengyuan immediately knelt before Zhu Youjian and cried out, “Your Majesty… Your Majesty! Cheng Guoxiang not only deceives the throne, he even dares to insult his fellow officials. Your Majesty must seek justice for this old minister!”

At this outburst, Chongzhen felt both angry and amused. This Jiang Fengyuan, like Cheng Guoxiang, had only begun serving as minister last year. He was not only pedantic but also excessively petty. In Chongzhen’s eyes, Jiang Fengyuan was merely a bookish pedant who had read himself stupid. However, the Ministry of Rites needed exactly such a person, so Chongzhen usually turned a blind eye to his flaws. He hadn’t expected that today Jiang Fengyuan would pick a fight with Cheng Guoxiang—and even slap the charge of “deceiving the emperor” onto him.

Looking at Jiang Fengyuan kneeling on the floor and sobbing, Chongzhen helplessly shot Yang Sichang a look. The meaning was clear: you’re the class monitor here—deal with it yourself.

Yang Sichang was annoyed as well. We’re discussing major state affairs here. You, a minister of the rites, should just stand aside and watch. Yet you insist on jumping out and making trouble. Are you trying to get yourself killed?

“Cough…” Left with no choice, Yang Sichang cleared his throat and said to Jiang Fengyuan, “Minister Jiang, you should say no more about this matter. His Majesty and I know how to handle it.”

Normally, since the “class monitor” had already spoken on behalf of the boss, someone like Jiang Fengyuan—who was basically just here to make up the numbers—should have taken the hint and backed off. But this newly appointed minister, not yet a year in office, refused to let it go. Had he lived in later times, he would probably have been the type who said, ‘I love my teacher, but I love truth even more.’ Not only did he fail to rein himself in, he craned his neck stubbornly and said, “Grand Secretary Yang, that’s not right. The one million taels of silver paid by the Marquis of Zhongyong were all replaced with silver dollars. The court hasn’t even pursued the crime of his private minting of currency—that alone is already lenient enough. Yet each of these silver pieces weighs only eight mace and eight candareens. The more of these silver dollars that are minted over in Shanxi, the greater the profit. Who knows how much wealth the Marquis of Zhongyong has amassed through this. Shouldn’t the court investigate this at all?”

Jiang Fengyuan spoke with such righteous indignation that anyone unaware of the truth would surely feel nothing but respect upon hearing him. But to Chongzhen and the surrounding ministers, his words were nothing but irritating.

Yang Sichang was truly angered now. This Jiang Fengyuan was utterly incapable of reading the situation. As the grand secretary of the realm, Yang had followed the emperor’s wishes and already given him a way out—it was face enough. Yet Jiang kept pressing. What exactly was he trying to do?

His face darkened immediately as he said coldly, “Minister Jiang, you just said that the Marquis of Zhongyong used these silver dollars to amass wealth on a large scale, and that Minister Cheng deceived the throne. Is that correct?”

“Exactly!” Jiang Fengyuan shouted indignantly, determined to get to the bottom of it. “We are deeply favored by imperial grace—now is precisely the time to repay His Majesty’s kindness. Yet Minister Cheng, as Minister of Revenue, accepted these underweight silver dollars into the national treasury. This is gross dereliction of duty! I wish to impeach him for negligence!”

Today, Jiang Fengyuan had completely locked horns with Cheng Guoxiang, pursuing him relentlessly.

“Foolish!” Yang Sichang could no longer hold back. He pointed at Jiang Fengyuan’s nose and cursed, “Minister Jiang, I’ve shown you respect as a senior official who has served two reigns, but you truly don’t know what’s good for you. Let me ask you this: these silver dollars are already widely used in Shanxi and the Jiangnan region, and even in the capital people are using them. A silver dollar has always been treated as equivalent to one tael of silver. Are all the merchants and commoners under heaven blind? Do they not know these silver dollars are underweight? Do you really need to remind His Majesty of this?”

“Eh… that’s true.” Only now did Jiang Fengyuan come to his senses. It really did make sense. These silver dollars had been in circulation for over two years. There was no way that merchants and commoners outside didn’t know they were underweight—so why had no one spoken ill of them? Instead, they had become more and more widely used.

Jiang Fengyuan cast a puzzled glance around the room and only then noticed that everyone was looking at him with mocking expressions. Only then did he realize that he seemed to have made a disastrous move. Anyone who could rise to the position of Minister of Rites was no fool, and Jiang Fengyuan was no exception. He had simply been blinded by selfish motives in the heat of the moment and fired off a reckless attack without thinking things through. Now, hearing Yang Sichang’s words, he immediately sensed that something was amiss.

Sure enough, Yang Sichang continued, “The reason these silver dollars have become so popular in Shanxi and Jiangnan is not without cause. Would everyone agree that they are finely made and of excellent quality?”

“Yes, what Minister Yang says is correct!” Chongzhen was the first to speak. Looking at the shining silver dollar in his hand, he nodded firmly. Coins of such exquisite workmanship were not unheard of in the imperial palace, but they were always painstakingly crafted by master artisans and used by the imperial household as rewards for officials or consorts. Moreover, Chongzhen was certain that producing such an item was time-consuming and costly in terms of manpower and materials. Though this silver dollar weighed less than one tael, its production cost undoubtedly exceeded the face value it represented.

Yang Sichang shot Jiang Fengyuan another glare and said, “Minister Cheng is the Minister of Revenue. In your opinion, what is the value of this silver dollar?”

Cheng Guoxiang hurriedly replied, “In response to the Grand Secretary, this official has already inquired carefully. Because this type of silver dollar is finely made, of excellent quality, and convenient to use, everyone prefers it. At present, in Jiangnan the common people even treat it as equivalent to one tael and two mace of silver.”

“Did you hear that, Minister Jiang?” Yang Sichang glared fiercely at him. “Do you still want to impeach Minister Cheng for deceiving the throne, and accuse the Marquis of Zhongyong of amassing wealth?”

“But the Marquis of Zhongyong privately minted currency—surely that’s a crime! Shouldn’t the court punish him for that?” Jiang Fengyuan had lost too thoroughly this time, yet he was unwilling to retreat so easily. Even in defeat, he stubbornly clung to the charge of private minting.

“Enough!” This time, it was Chongzhen who lost his temper. Jiang Fengyuan’s rise to the post of Minister of Personnel had not come from anyone’s recommendation, but rather from his long seniority. Although Chongzhen trusted Yang Sichang greatly, he did not want the entire court to become a one-man show. It was necessary to cultivate some figures who were not aligned with Yang Sichang.

But judging from today’s events, it was no wonder Jiang Fengyuan had served two emperors and only now reached the position of Minister of Personnel. The man simply had no sense of timing—utterly clueless, bringing up exactly the wrong topic at the wrong moment.

“Minister Jiang, today I summoned you to discuss how to dispose of this one million taels of tax silver—not to hear you impeach the Marquis of Zhongyong. Since you wish to impeach him, go back and write a proper memorial. For now, get out of my sight at once!”

Chongzhen could no longer endure it and immediately dismissed him.

“Your Majesty!” Jiang Fengyuan could hardly believe his ears. He stared at Chongzhen in disbelief. The reigning emperor was actually ordering him to leave. How hated must he be to be driven out on the spot?

“Didn’t you hear me? Get out at once!” Chongzhen, never known for a gentle temper, glared and pointed ahead.

Jiang Fengyuan looked at Chongzhen in despair, then at his colleagues beside him. Yet not a single person stepped forward to speak on his behalf. Only then did he realize how badly he had offended everyone present—otherwise, there would at least have been someone to plead for him.

In the end, Jiang Fengyuan stumbled out of the room. For a minister to be expelled on the spot while discussing affairs with the emperor was exceedingly rare in Ming history. Though Zhu Youjian was suspicious and temperamental, he had never before done something so brusque. Yet today he had done exactly that, and with such finality. This alone showed that Jiang Fengyuan had completely exhausted the emperor’s patience. What was even more striking was that this seemingly improper act by Zhu Youjian won the full support of everyone present—proof of just how detested Jiang Fengyuan’s actions had been.

After driving Jiang Fengyuan away, Chongzhen rubbed his temples, veins bulging in anger, and tried to calm himself. Only after a long while did he ask Cheng Guoxiang, “Minister Cheng, with these one million silver dollars and one million dan of grain, will it be enough to meet the needs of Hong Chengchou, Lu Xiangsheng, and Sun Chuanting’s three armies suppressing the bandits?”

Cheng Guoxiang silently calculated before answering, “In reply to Your Majesty, with this one million taels of silver, it will be sufficient to sustain the anti-bandit armies for half a year. However, yesterday Liaodong also sent a dispatch saying that the Tatars are stirring again along the frontier, urging the Ministry of Revenue to quickly send the overdue Liaodong military pay to stabilize morale. I fear that if all the silver is sent to the Huguang region, Liaodong may become unstable.”

After Cheng Guoxiang finished speaking, the study fell into silence.

“Bang—” Chongzhen’s face turned iron-blue as he slammed his right hand onto the dragon desk with a loud crash. “Absurd! Do they take me for a fool? Jian slaves have just lost tens of thousands of men to Yue Yang, and the puppet king Huang Taiji has just died—how dare they violate our borders at such a time? Do they think I’m a three-year-old child?”

The expressions of the dozen or so ministers before the desk were equally grim. The silver dollars and grain from Shanxi had barely arrived in the capital—the grain stores weren’t even warm yet—and already there were urgent cries that the frontier was unstable and in desperate need of provisions. Wasn’t it obvious they were eyeing this silver and grain?

The Minister of Personnel, Xie Sheng, stepped forward angrily and said, “Your Majesty, after being heavily struck by the Marquis of Zhongyong, the Tatars pose no threat in the short term. Liaodong’s move clearly comes from seeing that the court now has some silver and wanting to siphon it away. There are countless places within the realm that urgently need funds. To send it all to Liaodong would be absolutely unacceptable!”

“This minister concurs!”

“I also concur!”

Many ministers in the study stood up one after another to state their positions. In the end, only a few remained silent—but everyone knew they were waiting for the stance of Yang Sichang, the chief grand secretary.

Yang Sichang looked around, then slowly stepped forward and bowed to Chongzhen. “Your Majesty, this minister believes that with the death of the bandit chieftain Huang Taiji, the Tatars pose no immediate threat to our dynasty. Matters have their priorities. At present, the most urgent task is to urge Hong Chengchou, Lu Xiangsheng, and Sun Chuanting to quickly encircle and annihilate the bandits. Otherwise, if we allow them to continue ravaging the heartland of the Ming, the empire will never know peace!”

“Mm… Minister Yang speaks well!”

“That is indeed how it should be!”

The ministers in the imperial study all voiced their agreement with Yang Sichang.

History in this timeline had already been significantly altered by Yue Yang’s arrival. The once-famous Consort Chen, Hai Lanzhu, had become Yue Yang’s wife, and Huang Taiji—who should not have died for another six years—had perished early. The once-invincible Manchu cavalry that had swept across the Central Plains had been beaten into heaps of corpses thanks to Yue Yang.

As a result, the Ming’s dire external situation had eased somewhat, while internal bandit problems had grown increasingly severe. Just last month, Zhang Xianzhong, leading several hundred bandits he had coerced into joining him, suddenly burst into Sichuan, turning what had been the relatively peaceful Land of Abundance into chaos. The Sichuan governor Liu Huaide hurriedly mobilized troops to resist, but the long-peaceful Ming forces were no match for the ferocious bandits. In the end, Sun Chuanting led his army in pursuit of Zhang Xianzhong into Sichuan, where the two sides were currently locked in fierce fighting around Long’an Prefecture. Meanwhile, Li Zicheng had retreated to Shaanxi, with Hong Chengchou chasing close behind, while Lu Xiangsheng led his Tianxiong Army in suppressing Luo Rucai across Hubei and Henan.

The problem now was that after suffering heavy losses at the Battle of Macheng, the bandits had learned their lesson. They knew that with their current strength, engaging the government forces in large-scale battles was impossible—it would only lead to their encirclement and annihilation. So they resorted to playing hide-and-seek, slipping into mountain ravines and forests, striking here and there before scattering again. This made the Ming army’s suppression efforts extremely difficult.

The biggest difference between bandits and government troops was that bandits could loot wherever they went, living off plunder. Government troops could not—at least not openly. Otherwise, local censors and officials would drown them in memorials of accusation. Thus, in recent days, urgent requests for provisions from Hong Chengchou, Lu Xiangsheng, Sun Chuanting, and others had been flying into the capital like snowflakes, leaving Chongzhen unable to sleep soundly for days.

The consequences of Chongzhen’s earlier order forcibly transferring Lu Xiangsheng to Shanxi had already become apparent. Because of that hasty redeployment, the bandits trapped around Macheng had escaped and spread everywhere, eventually evolving into the present disaster.

In Zhu Youjian’s view, however, this was not his fault. Though a flicker of regret had once arisen in his heart, he quickly filtered it out. After all, he was the Son of Heaven—how could the Son of Heaven be wrong?

After lengthy deliberations, Chongzhen and his ministers finally settled on a plan. Of the silver and grain sent from Shanxi, 500,000 taels of silver and 400,000 dan of grain would be allocated to the anti-bandit campaigns in Sichuan, Shaanxi, Hubei, and other regions. Another 300,000 taels of silver and 300,000 dan of grain would be sent to Liaodong, with the remainder kept for emergencies. In Chongzhen’s and the ministers’ eyes, this arrangement was prudent and reasonable—but unexpectedly, problems still arose in the end.

As the saying goes, people do not fear scarcity, but inequality. Less than half a day after the court conference ended, its results had already spread throughout the capital. Soon, a mounted courier spurred his horse and raced swiftly toward the northeast…

On the twenty-third day of the ninth month of the tenth year of Chongzhen’s reign, in the council hall of the Left Commander’s Office in Jinzhou, Liaodong, dozens of military generals sat neatly on both sides of the hall. At the center sat a stern-looking middle-aged general, around forty years old, with a long beard and a gaze that exuded authority. This man was Zu Dashou, Left Commander of Liaodong. Sitting solemnly below him to the left was the newly appointed Shanhai Pass commander, Wu Sangui, along with a host of Liaodong generals under his command.

Zu Dashou swept his sharp gaze across the assembly and said in a deep voice, “Gentlemen, news has arrived from the capital. The court has made its decision: of the taxes paid by Shanxi, the court will allocate only 300,000 taels of silver and 300,000 dan of grain to us. The majority will be sent to the anti-bandit forces within the passes. What do you think should be done?”

“What? How can that be? The court already owes us three months of pay—how can this tiny amount possibly be enough!”

“No, absolutely not! Why do we get only 300,000 taels, while those good-for-nothing troops inside the passes take the lion’s share? On what grounds?!”

As soon as Zu Dashou finished speaking, the hall erupted in argument, the generals talking over one another in chaos.

Zu Dashou observed them briefly, then turned his gaze to Wu Sangui. Seeing that this renowned Liaodong general showed no sign of surprise and was calmly sipping his tea, Zu Dashou’s heart stirred.

“Changbo,” he asked, “what do you think of this matter?”

Wu Sangui was twenty-five years old this year, with a thin, sparse mustache beneath his chin. He stood up, cupped his hands toward Zu Dashou, and said in a clear voice, “Uncle, the court’s decision was inevitable. Sangui had already anticipated this.”

“Oh? Explain,” Zu Dashou said calmly.

Wu Sangui smiled lightly. “First, a few months ago, the Tatar khan Huang Taiji fell gravely ill while campaigning against the Chahar tribe, and later died on the return journey. In that war, the Qing forces suffered devastating losses. According to reliable information, they lost at least seventy to eighty thousand men. Although most were Mongols, this was still a severe blow to a population-scarce Qing state. This is something not only we see—those ministers at court see it clearly as well.”

At these words, not only Zu Dashou but also the surrounding generals nodded in agreement.

Wu Sangui continued, “With such heavy losses, the Tatars naturally have no time to invade our borders for the moment. As a result, the role of our Liaodong army becomes less critical. That is precisely why the court dares to give us so little military pay.”