My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

This is the essence of the strategy of appeasement.

Once these former "rebels" are given legal status, a stable life, and a certain amount of power, they will often work harder than ordinary officials to crack down on new "rebels" in order to protect their vested interests and prove their "loyalty" and value.

Li Qingshan is now an "official," so he naturally has to maintain the order of the "official" system. Any force that challenges this order becomes his enemy.

This shift in identity and the resulting change in stance is something that no amount of preaching can match.

"It's good that you have this intention."

Zhu Cilang softened his tone and continued to ask.

"What is the situation in the Liangshanbo area and the entire western Shandong region recently? Are there any restless forces stirring up trouble? Is the livelihood of the people still secure?"

Li Qingshan quickly replied:
"Your Highness, rest assured! Since I surrendered to the court, I have managed to persuade a few small groups of people who were still hesitating in the mountains to come down and surrender, thanks to my past connections."

“Nowadays, major banditry has disappeared around Liangshanbo. Even if there are still one or two petty thieves who are unaware of their own mortality, or small groups of scoundrels who have wandered in from other places, they cannot pose a threat.”

"This humble general now receives a salary from the imperial court and leads his brothers to patrol the mountains every few days. If any lawlessness is found, it will be immediately eradicated without mercy! Please rest assured, Your Highness, as long as this humble general is here, Liangshan will never be allowed to cause trouble again!"

Zhu Cilang was quite satisfied with Li Qingshan's report.

As rulers, their greatest wish is for peace and tranquility within their jurisdiction and for the people to live in prosperity.

People like Li Qingshan, despite their questionable backgrounds, can be a powerful tool for maintaining local stability if used properly.

Using this method of "using one thief to control another" often yields remarkable results.

He then offered Li Qingshan a few words of encouragement, nothing more than "work diligently, and the court will not mistreat meritorious officials."

Li Qingshan was naturally moved to tears and repeatedly expressed his loyalty.

During the conversation, the carriage had already reached the main street of Dengzhou City.

Seeing that his goal had been achieved, Zhu Cilang waved his hand:

"Alright, you may leave now. Perform your duties well and do not disappoint my expectations."

"Your humble servant obeys! Your humble servant takes his leave!"

Li Qingshan felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He bowed again and then stepped back to the side of the road, watching the Crown Prince's carriage disappear into the distance, surrounded by guards. Only when it was out of sight did he straighten up, wipe the fine beads of sweat from his forehead, and let out a long sigh of relief.

The conversation with the Crown Prince, though brief, was even more tense than when facing the government army's encirclement and suppression back then.

However, he also knew in his heart that whether he could hold onto his official position depended entirely on the Crown Prince's decision, so he had to be more careful and work harder.

Over the next few days, Emperor Chongzhen moved into the Dengzhou Imperial Palace and began his inspection tour of Shandong.

Similar to my time in Tianjin, my schedule was packed.

He first gave a grand reception to the three high-ranking officials of Shandong Province, including the Provincial Administration Commissioner, the Provincial Surveillance Commissioner, and the Provincial Military Commander, as well as the prefects and garrison commanders of Dengzhou and Laizhou, and listened to detailed reports on various aspects such as governance, public sentiment, military preparedness, coastal defense, canal transport, and salt administration.

Then came the more crucial step: separate meetings were held with representatives of important gentry, wealthy merchants, and retired officials who had rushed from all over Shandong.

These people were truly influential figures in the region. The meeting was held in a side hall of the imperial palace, where the atmosphere was far more serious and even solemn than in public.

In fact, even before the imperial entourage arrived in Dengzhou, rumors about the court's plans to rectify official corruption, clear up outstanding debts, and crack down on smuggling had already reached Shandong through various channels.

Local officials and powerful figures with keen senses had already taken action upon hearing the news.

Under the overt or covert "persuasion" and "guidance" of Shandong Governor Qiu Zude and Dengzhou-Laizhou Governor Xu Renlong, a large-scale campaign of "voluntary donations" or "tax arrears" is being carried out in secret.

When Emperor Chongzhen finally arrived, the vast majority of prominent gentry and wealthy merchants in Shandong had already "sensibly" registered their huge amounts of gold, silver, grain, silk, and even "dry shares" in land and shops, "voluntarily" serving the court.

Therefore, when these gentry and wealthy merchants knelt tremblingly before Emperor Chongzhen, the emperor already had a roughly accurate list of "contributions" that had been jointly verified by the Embroidered Uniform Guard and local officials.

Emperor Chongzhen's audience with the emperor was more of a ritual involving both "benevolence and severity."

For those who performed "actively" and made "outstanding" contributions, Emperor Chongzhen would offer gentle praise, affirming their "public-spiritedness" and "consideration for the overall situation."

For those who hesitated slightly or whose contributions were deemed "insufficient," the tone was cold, and they were even subtly pointed out certain "unclear" properties or pasts under their names, which frightened the other party so much that they broke out in a cold sweat and kowtowed repeatedly, promising to "make up for it" immediately after returning home.

Under such intense pressure, even those powerful figures who still harbored a sliver of hope and attempted to slip through the cracks completely gave up on their dreams and tried every means to sell their assets to raise enough money to pass the test.

As a result, the Dengzhou treasury and several large warehouses temporarily requisitioned by the accompanying Ministry of Revenue officials were quickly filled with all kinds of valuables.

Boxes of silver ingots, gold coins, strings of copper coins, bolts of Suzhou and Hangzhou silk and Songjiang cotton cloth, loads of rare medicinal herbs and precious timber, and even antiques, calligraphy and paintings, jewelry and jade artifacts, all piled up like mountains.

According to the preliminary calculations by the accompanying Vice Minister of Revenue and the Shandong Provincial Administration Commissioner, the total amount of money and valuables "contributed" by the Shandong gentry, converted into silver, reached over 30 million taels!

This figure is almost equivalent to the total national tax revenue of the Ming Dynasty during its heyday!

As Chongzhen looked at the preliminary list presented by the Ministry of Revenue, although he maintained the composure of an emperor, the barely suppressed smile in his eyes and brows betrayed his inner elation.

Shandong was already wealthy, and the profits from coastal trade and smuggling were enormous. The wealth of these powerful families far exceeded his expectations.

Overjoyed, and with the Shandong governor reporting that the year's weather had been favorable and a bumper summer harvest was in sight, Emperor Chongzhen immediately issued an imperial edict: pardoning 30% of the taxes levied on the entire Shandong province!
Upon receiving this decree, the Shandong gentry and common people who had been waiting outside the palace erupted in thunderous cheers!
The shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" were incessant.

Although the wealth they donated far exceeded the taxes that were reduced, this gesture of "the emperor's boundless grace" undoubtedly greatly appeased local sentiments and earned Chongzhen a reputation for "benevolence" during his southern tour.

Hearing the cheers coming from outside the palace, Chongzhen stroked his beard and smiled, feeling extremely pleased with himself.

In his view, the imperial court gained both substance and prestige from this deal, making it a sure-fire win.

After spending six days in Dengzhou, having completed all the necessary tasks such as meeting with officials, inspecting the navy, reviewing defenses, and issuing imperial edicts, Emperor Chongzhen's southern tour entourage prepared to set off again.

The next leg of the voyage will pass Chengshan Cape, the easternmost point of the Shandong Peninsula, enter the Yellow Sea, and then proceed along the Jiangsu coastline.

The journey may involve short stops in places like Jiaozhou and Haizhou, depending on the circumstances, but the main destination is Nanjing, a major city in Southern Zhili and the final stop of this southern tour, which is getting closer and closer.

It is estimated that we will arrive at the majestic and imposing capital of the Ming Dynasty in about a month.

However, observant people will notice that a rather unusual shipment accompanied the fleet south. Instead of being packed in the usual wooden crates or sacks, these were individual earthenware jars of varying sizes, in shades of dark brown or grayish-black.

These earthenware jars were neatly stacked on specially made wooden racks in the lower deck, with each rack holding one jar in place to prevent them from colliding with each other during turbulence.

The jars vary in size, with the larger ones reaching half a meter in height and requiring two strong men to carry them securely, while the smaller ones are about the size of an ordinary teapot and can be lifted with one hand.

The mouths of the jars were carefully sealed with some kind of grayish-white mud-like substance, and the marks or simple numbers of the responsible craftsmen could be faintly seen on the mud surface.

On the outside of some jars, small characters in vermilion ink that does not easily fade are written, indicating the contents and the sealing date, such as "No. 3, Class A, braised mutton, May 10th, the sixteenth year of Chongzhen", "No. 7, Class C, salted cabbage, May 9th, the sixteenth year of Chongzhen", and some even directly write "hard rice" and "salted fish".

If a curious person were to approach and smell the sealant that was not yet completely dry, they might faintly detect a mixture of tung oil and beeswax.

These were none other than the canned goods that Zhu Cilang had experimented with in Shandong.

Of course, this "canned food" is not the same as that "canned food". It is quite different from the tin cans or glass cans that are common in later generations. These are containers made by adapting to local conditions and using the materials available to the Ming Dynasty at that time, mainly clay, and firing them.

Inside the main cabin of the imperial ship, Zhu Cilang stood by the window, his gaze sweeping over the pottery jars being carefully loaded onto the ship at the port.

His fingertips tapped lightly on the window frame, this was the very thing on his mind.

If given a choice, wouldn't he prefer to go straight for the best option, using metal cans that offer better sealing and are easier to transport? Or even glass jars that are more transparent and easier to observe the contents?
But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he rationally rejected it.

The metallurgical technology of the late Ming Dynasty was already quite sophisticated for casting cannons and muskets, but rolling out thin iron sheets of uniform thickness suitable for stamping into food cans was prohibitively expensive in terms of both material costs and technological difficulty.

More importantly, common metals such as copper, lead, and even tin and iron of insufficient purity, when in long-term contact with food, especially salty or acidic foods, inevitably release trace amounts of toxic substances that are harmful to the human body.

This problem can perhaps be solved by gathering craftsmen after the southern tour ends and we return to the capital, and then slowly experimenting with alloy formulas and researching inner wall coating technology.

But right now, the most urgent task is to verify the concept of "canned food" itself, as well as its core preservation process, namely heating and sterilization and sealing to isolate air, whether it is feasible under the current technological conditions.

Therefore, utilizing the already highly advanced ceramic technology of the Ming Dynasty became the most realistic and quickest option.

After all, firing a batch of specially made covered pottery jars was a piece of cake for the artisans of the official kilns.

Moreover, strictly speaking, all the core technical elements for canning food production were already in place by the late Ming Dynasty.

Firstly, in terms of containers, China is known as the kingdom of ceramics, and firing pottery jars and porcelain jars with lids of various sizes and shapes is no problem for them.

Even the glass manufacturing technology was already mature, but the cost was high, and Zhu Cilang was hoping to continue making money from it, so he gave up on it.

Secondly, there are sealing materials. Ancient craftsmen had long mastered the art of repeatedly pounding and mixing materials such as lime, boiled tung oil, and raw lacquer to create "putty" with excellent toughness and airtightness. This material was widely used to fill gaps in wooden boats and seal building components, and its waterproof and airtight effects have been proven over time.

Adding crushed beeswax further enhances its flexibility and durability.

Then there's sterilization technology. Although the ancients didn't know what "bacteria" or "microorganisms" were, they had a deep understanding of the principle that "boiling can preserve food for a long time" based on their life experience over thousands of years.

Whether it's treating drinking water, preserving medicinal herbs, or making pickles and cured meat, methods of preservation such as heating, salting, and smoking are widely used.

Prolonged boiling is sufficient to kill most of the microorganisms that cause food spoilage.

Finally, through everyday utensils such as pickle jars and wine jars, people have long observed the phenomenon that "airtight containers are less prone to damage," intuitively understanding the crucial role of air isolation in preservation.

The bubbling water along the rim of the kimchi jar is a simple application of the "one-way valve" and the principle of air pressure balance.

Ultimately, under Zhu Cilang's personal guidance, the trial production of canned goods proceeded strictly according to the procedures he had established.

Before long, a "pottery jar" that met the current technological requirements of the Ming Dynasty was initially completed.

Zhu Cilang then ordered that these experimental samples be stored in cool, dry places according to their type of ingredients and the date of sealing, and assigned a special person to record them.

He plans to randomly select samples at different times during the voyage and after arriving in Nanjing to open the cans and test them, observing changes in the color, smell, and texture of the food in order to determine its actual preservation effect and identify areas for improvement.

After all, the core purpose of this first trial production is to verify feasibility. Success is certainly welcome, but even partial failure can accumulate valuable experience for future optimization using better materials when returning to Beijing.

Getting back to the main point, once everything was ready, the horns sounded, and the massive fleet finally set sail and left Dengzhou Port, continuing south along the winding coastline.

Azure sea and sky, sails billowing in the wind, heralding a new voyage.

Around dusk, the fleet chose to anchor and spend the night in a small bay that was not marked on the nautical chart.

This harbor is very small, with shallow water and many reefs. It can only barely accommodate major vessels such as imperial boats to anchor. There are no decent dock facilities, and it is impossible to go ashore and set up camp tents as before.

The accompanying officials, guards, and sailors could only huddle together in their respective cabins to rest that night.

The sea shimmered, reflecting the last rays of sunset on the horizon, and the only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the ship's side; all around was exceptionally quiet.

In his spacious cabin, Zhu Cilang, by the light of a bright whale oil lamp, perused the reports submitted by local officials along the way.

Although the days of sailing didn't cause seasickness, I was still quite tired.

Suddenly, a series of hurried but deliberately low footsteps came from outside the cabin door, followed by a soft knock.

"Prince."

This was Ma Bao's voice, but there was an unusual tension in his tone.

Zhu Cilang frowned slightly and replied:

"What's the matter?"

"Your Highness, a secret report has arrived from Liaodong."

Ma Bao's voice came through the cabin door, low but incredibly clear.

"what?"

Upon hearing this, Zhu Cilang abruptly stood up from the brocade stool, his face filled with disbelief. (End of Chapter)