Huangming

Chapter 474 The chaos spirals out of control, and one's own hands are burned.

The window of Yan's study was open, and the night breeze carried in the faint sounds of battle cries from outside the city.

At this moment, the steward of the Yan family rushed over and said to Yan Kuan:

"Sir, the government office has been overrun by rioters, and I heard that all the officials inside..."

When Yan Kuan heard the steward's anxious report, he didn't frown at all. Instead, a smug smile slowly appeared on his lips, and even the fine lines at the corners of his eyes relaxed.

"They've taken it?"

He repeated it, his voice trembling slightly.

It wasn't nervousness, but the excitement of getting what I wanted.

He walked to the window and looked towards the government office. Although he couldn't see any firelight, he could imagine the chaos there.

The collapsed government offices, the scattered documents, the fleeing yamen runners, and the weavers whose eyes had been swayed by the incitement...

All of this was a scheme orchestrated by him and those important figures in Nanjing, and now it has finally come to fruition.

"very good."

Yan Kuan turned around and slammed the jade thumb ring onto the table with a "snap".

"Have your men keep an eye on things, but don't let our people show their faces. Just keep an eye on them."

The manager was taken aback.

The master's reaction was completely different from the anxiety he had expected, but he dared not ask any further questions and quickly bowed in agreement.
"Yes, little one, let's do it right now."

After the steward left, Yan Kuan picked up the Longjing tea on the table. The tea had gone cold, but he drank it with relish.

The commotion outside the window continued, but he found it more pleasant than any stringed instrument.

The fire in Songjiang has finally started.

He knew that this was by no means an isolated case.

as predicted.

Within five days, news from all over the country reached the Yan residence like snowflakes:
Incited by a few "scholars," refugees in the suburbs of Nanjing surrounded the disaster relief department's granary and looted the newly delivered relief grain.

The silk merchants of Suzhou made the weavers carry broken looms and block the gate of the Suzhou Textile Bureau, shouting "Give us back our livelihood!"

The raw silk merchants in Huzhou were even more ruthless, directly ordering the burning of government-run silk warehouses along the canal, on the grounds that "the government is suppressing silk prices and cutting off the livelihoods of silkworm farmers."

Even in the usually peaceful city of Yangzhou, salt merchants instigated salt workers to vandalize the office of the Salt Inspector...

Several prefectures in Jiangnan were thrown into chaos overnight.

Behind this chaos was a "backup plan" that the gentry of Jiangnan had prepared long ago.

The Donglin Party-controlled "Donglin Academy" and "Yushan Academy" immediately posted a proclamation, written with a brush on large white paper, which was then posted all over the streets of the town.

The proclamation described the weavers' uprising as "the government's harsh policies forcing the people to rebel," and between the lines it was full of accusations against the policies of "land survey by the disaster relief department" and "government-run cotton cloth." It even called Yuan Keli a "cruel official who brought chaos to Jiangnan" and denounced the Ming emperor's policies as "tyranny that competes with the people for profit."

What's even more amazing are the doggerel poems composed by the gentry, which are easy to understand and spread throughout the streets and alleys of Jiangnan overnight.

"The Disaster Relief Department is a wolf in sheep's clothing; they steal my cloth and rob me of my grain."

"Government-run cloth, low price, weavers starve and weep."

"Minister Yuan is too ruthless, forcing the people to turn their homes upside down."

These sentences were turned into jokes by storytellers in teahouses, hummed by weavers while working, and even sung by children on the street. This transformed the "riot" into "defending the country," making those who were still hesitant feel that their resistance was "justified," not "treason," but "life-saving."

The gentry played word games with great skill, and the local officials they bribed cooperated flawlessly.

The chaos in Jiangnan intensified due to the collusion of gentry, merchants, and local officials.

Firelight, shouts of battle, proclamations, and forged memorials formed a vast net that enveloped the land of Southern Zhili.

Yan Kuan stood in the study of the Yan family mansion, looking at the news coming from all over the country, and the smile on his lips grew deeper and deeper.

Yuan Keli in Nanjing is probably in for a headache.

His Majesty, far away in the capital, should have received news of the "boiling discontent among the people" in Jiangnan.

What he had to do was keep watching the fire burn even brighter.

If the chaos continues long enough and the court is unable to quell the rebellion, His Majesty will eventually have to give in.

At that time, the Yan family's smuggling business can continue, the interests of those officials and gentry can be preserved, and Jiangnan will still be their Jiangnan.

Of course, things have come to this point.

The Disaster Relief Department absolutely cannot be let go.

Actually.
Amidst the chaos in Jiangnan, a fire was set off specifically for the Disaster Relief Department.

The disaster relief office of Songjiang Prefecture was originally an old granary that was temporarily rebuilt after the flood. The yellow marks left by the flood are still visible on the blue brick walls.

Early that morning, dozens of rioters, armed with hoes and sticks, rushed straight to the gate of the government office, led by a few "leaders".

They didn't rob the nearby cloth shop or smash the pawnshop on the street corner; their eyes were only on the wooden sign with the words "Disaster Relief Department".

"This is it! The den of wolves that steal our grain and our land!"

The leader roared and slammed a hoe on the door knocker, the brass ring clanging and shaking off the accumulated dust on the lintel.

There weren't many people in the government office, only three local village heads and two elderly men with gray hair, who were checking the list of people to be distributed disaster relief grain around the table.

Seeing the rioters rush in, Old Man Zhou, the village head, quickly got up to stop them:
"Fellow villagers, don't be impulsive! We're here to distribute grain to everyone, we're not corrupt officials!"

Before he could finish speaking, a flying wooden stick struck him on the forehead, and blood streamed down his cheek.

The rioters went berserk, overturning tables, tearing up lists, looting relief rice from the granary, and setting the "List of Disaster Relief Households" on the wall ablaze, the flames licking at the roof beams with a crackling sound.

The two elders tried to protect the account books, but were pushed to the ground by the rioters, who stepped on their backs and cursed them as "accomplices of the officials." They fell silent shortly afterward.

Not only Songjiang, but also the disaster relief offices in Suzhou, Huzhou, and Yangzhou have been robbed in recent days.

The disaster relief office in Suzhou was located next to the canal. The rioters not only smashed the office, but also punched a hole in the relief grain ship that was moored at the dock. The grain floated away with the river, attracting countless starving people to scramble for it.

The disaster relief department in Huzhou had just delivered a batch of cotton-padded clothes, but before they could be distributed, they were all looted by rioters. Some people even fought over a single cotton-padded coat.

The disaster relief office in Yangzhou fared even worse; its offices were burned down to ruins, and the "land survey map" stored inside was reduced to ashes.

These rioters' "targets" were so precise, it was unlike a spontaneous uprising.

Most of those mixed in with the crowd were local ruffians hired by the gentry of Jiangnan.

They had a clear objective and came prepared.

"Charge inside, don't touch the shops next door, just smash the government office!"

The Disaster Relief Department was the "hand" of imperial power extending to the grassroots level in Jiangnan. It was in charge of land surveying, distribution of disaster relief grain, resettlement of displaced people, and even registration of weaving households' looms and fields. It gradually took over the "grassroots power" that was originally held by the gentry and brought it under the control of the government.

In the past, the local gentry in Jiangnan had the final say:
Who could receive disaster relief grain depended on the whims of the local gentry.

Those whose land was exempt from taxes had to give "tribute money" to the gentry.

Even whether a weaver's loom could be operated depended on the arrangements of the gentry's brokerage firm.

But when the disaster relief department arrived and surveyed the land, they discovered thousands of acres of private farmland that the gentry had concealed.

When distributing disaster relief grain, it was delivered directly to the displaced people, bypassing the "exploitation" by the gentry.

Even documents announcing the "imperial authority extending to the county level" had to be posted at the village's local earth god temple.

This is hardly "disaster relief"; it's clearly severing the roots of the Jiangnan gentry!
Therefore, the gentry wanted to use the popular uprising to uproot these newly established disaster relief agencies.

They thought that as long as they destroyed the government offices and killed the officials, this matter of "imperial power extending to the county level" would just end like countless previous reforms.

But they didn't expect that the key officials in the disaster relief department had already disappeared.

Before the civil unrest, disaster relief officials from various regions were all summoned to Nanjing by Yuan Keli under the guise of a "proclamation meeting".

Those who remained in the government office were merely local gentry who had been temporarily appointed.

The village head and the three elders were mostly small gentry who wanted to make a little profit through the disaster relief department. They had no connections and were not on guard.

Now these petty gentry have become scapegoats.

When the news reached the Yan residence, Yan Kuan was sitting in his study with a smile on his lips.

But when the steward trembled and said, "All the officials from the Disaster Relief Department have left; they only killed a few village heads and elders," the smile on his face instantly froze.

"What did you say?"

Yan Kuan suddenly stood up, his expression changing slightly.

The garrison of Songjiang Prefecture is only fifty li away from the prefectural city, a half-hour ride away. But now, after the rioters have been making trouble for almost ten days, there is not a single soldier in sight.

"Something's not right...something's really not right."

Yan Kuan muttered to himself, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The riots that seemed "smooth" before now appear to be full of flaws.

The disaster relief officials left in advance, as if they had been prepared.

The garrison remained stationary, as if waiting for something...

A terrible thought pierced his heart like an icicle.

Yuan Keli, or perhaps Your Majesty, or maybe...
They are not afraid of chaos in Jiangnan at all.

They even... hoped for chaos in Jiangnan!
As long as the chaos is thorough enough, the hidden power of the gentry will be exposed.

Once the scapegoat of the disaster relief department is dead, the evidence of the gentry's crimes of "inciting popular uprisings and massacring good officials" will be confirmed. As long as the garrisons remain inactive and wait for the rioters to have had enough, Yuan Keli can then lead the Beijing garrison to send troops out, and under the pretext of "suppressing the rebellion," he can legitimately eliminate all forces of resistance.

At that time, the roots of Jiangnan will not be protected by the gentry, but will be completely overturned by the court, and the seedlings of "imperial power" will be planted again!
"Oh no...we've fallen into Yuan Keli's trap!"

Yan Kuan's voice trembled as he staggered back to his desk, picked up a brush, but his hand was shaking so badly that the ink on the brush tip broke off on the paper, leaving a black stain that spread like an unyielding mass of panic.

He must write a letter, and write it now!

He wrote to Wang San, the clerk of Songjiang Prefecture, urging him to quickly restrain the rioters and stop targeting government offices with killings.

He wrote to Zhou Qiyuan and Wang Yingjiao in Nanjing, urging them to quickly find a way to control the situation.

If things continue to descend into chaos, it won't be the imperial court that gives in; instead, all these gentry and merchants will be wiped out by Yuan Keli!
"Quick! Get some new stationery!"

Yan Kuan roared at the door, his voice devoid of its usual composure, filled only with panic.

The steward hurriedly brought in paper and inkstone. Seeing that the master's face was pale and his hands were still trembling, he didn't dare to ask any more questions and just quickly ground the ink.

Yan Kuan gripped the pen and wrote quickly:
"The civil unrest must not be allowed to escalate further... Quickly deploy manpower to restrain it... The inaction of the garrison might be a trap..."

He wrote so carelessly that he didn't even notice the ink splattering on his hands.

The commotion outside the window seemed even louder than before, and one could faintly hear shouts of "Charge to Nanjing!"

The incited rioters were no longer satisfied with smashing the government offices in Songjiang; they even wanted to go to Nanjing.

Yan Kuan's heart sank to the bottom.

He suddenly realized that those big shots in Nanjing, perhaps like him, thought they were in control of the situation, but in reality, they had long become pawns on Yuan Keli's chessboard, step by step heading towards being surrounded and killed.

After a while.

He folded the letter he had written, put it in an envelope, sealed it with sealing wax, and handed it to the steward.

"Quickly! Use the fastest horses to deliver this to the Clerk's Office in Songjiang Prefecture, and also send a letter to the Zhou residence in Nanjing! Not a moment can be wasted!"

"Yes, sir!"

The steward hurriedly left with the letter.

however.

Before Yan Kuan's letter could even leave Songjiang Prefecture, the development of the situation had already exceeded all his expectations.

Like a wild horse that has broken free, it galloped wildly in the direction it feared most.

Initially, the rioters in Songjiang Prefecture were mostly weavers who had lost their livelihoods, homeless refugees after the floods, and some poor people incited by the Yan family's local ruffians.

Although they were angry, they were also somewhat timid in their pursuit of justice. They hesitated when smashing government offices, and they took care of the elderly and weak when seizing grain. Some even shrank back quietly when they saw the three elders being beaten to death.

At that time, Zhao Jie, whom Yan Kuan sent, still had the final say. As long as he shouted, "Don't kill the officials yet, go and block the government office first," the crowd would follow his direction.

As long as he takes out the grain given by the Yan family, he can temporarily appease the hungriest people.

But within just two days, too many unfamiliar faces had entered this "chaotic tide".

First, it was the White Lotus sect.

These people, dressed in coarse cloth short clothes and carrying talismans with the image of the "White Lotus Holy Mother" in their pockets, mingled among the refugees and told everyone they met that "the current emperor is the 'master of calamity,' and only by killing corrupt officials and distributing land can we bring about a 'peaceful year.'"

They embellished the "oppressive government" fabricated by the Yan family, turning it into "Heaven is going to destroy the Ming Dynasty, it's time to change the world," and even taught the refugees to sing the ballad "When the white lotus blooms, every family will be free from disaster; kill all the corrupt officials, everyone will have food."

There was a blind old woman who was carried on a bamboo pole by members of the White Lotus sect. She cried and shouted, "I dreamed that the Holy Mother appeared to me and said that a true god would emerge in Songjiang to save us from our suffering." This caused many ignorant people to kneel and worship her. Even when Zhao Jie tried to stop her, he was scolded for "blocking everyone's way of survival."

Next came pirates and river bandits.

Songjiang Prefecture is located by the sea, and the canals are extensive and interconnected. Pirates frequently raided the coastal waters, and river bandits hijacked ships on the canals.

These men were all fierce-looking, with short knives at their waists, and some even carrying rusty muskets.

They didn't come to "seek justice," they came to take advantage of the chaos.

During the day, they would follow the rioters to smash government offices, and at night they would sneak into people's homes to rob them, not even sparing the poorest families.

Once, when Zhao Jie tried to intervene, a pirate with a face full of scars held a knife to his neck: "Mind your own business! If you say another word, I'll chop you up first!"

Zhao Jie turned pale with fright and dared not show his face again.

What alarmed Yan Kuan the most was the actions of some salt merchants.

These people were even more ruthless than him. They secretly sent food and weapons to the rebels and instigated several "well-known" leaders of the refugees, saying, "Zhang Shicheng started his rebellion in Jiangnan and eventually became the King of Wu. Now that you have so many people, why don't you rebel too and become your own masters!"

They even provided the leaders with weapons and armor, and helped them devise a plan to "attack the prefectural city and seize the granaries," turning what was originally a matter of "causing trouble to force the court to make concessions" into a complete "rebellion."

Yan Kuan soon realized that his words were no longer effective.

The servant he sent to deliver a message to Zhao Jie returned bruised and battered, saying that Zhao Jie had been placed under house arrest by several "people sent by salt merchants" and could not be seen at all.

He sent brokers to "send a message" to the weavers, saying, "Stop making trouble, the court is going to make concessions." But as soon as the brokers opened their mouths, they were surrounded and beaten by the rioters, who said, "You're Yan's dog, trying to deceive us!"

And the number of rioters grew like a snowball.

From the initial few hundred or a thousand people, by the evening of the tenth day, the number had exceeded ten thousand.

The streets were filled with people carrying wooden sticks and hoes, some of whom were wearing stolen yamen runner uniforms, shouting slogans like "Kill corrupt officials and distribute the land!" Their voices shook the city walls of Songjiang Prefecture.

"Down with the landlords, distribute the land!"

This slogan was only shouted yesterday.

At first, it was just a few pirates making a fuss in the crowd. Later, the White Lotus sect members joined in the shouting, and the people sent by the salt merchants also joined in. In the end, even the most honest weavers were tempted by the slogans.

They started targeting the wealthy households in the city.

First, they smashed up the homes of several small landlords and looted their grain and money.

Then they rushed into the silk shop and looted all the fabric.

On the morning of the eleventh day, someone pointed in the direction of the Yan family mansion and shouted, "The Yan family is the richest! They have thousands of acres of land and tens of thousands of taels of silver! Go and divide the Yan family's property first!"

These words were like a spark, instantly igniting everyone's greed.

Yan Kuan was pacing in his study, clutching the letter he hadn't yet sent, still hoping for news from Nanjing, when he suddenly heard a commotion of shouts coming from outside the mansion gate.

Instead of the usual "kill corrupt officials," it was the even more jarring "Separate the Yan family! Kill Yan Kuan!"

His heart skipped a beat, and before he could react, the steward stumbled in.

The steward's clothes were torn, his hair was a mess, and his face was covered in cold sweat. He knelt down with a thud as soon as he entered, crying and shouting:
"Master! Something terrible has happened! Something terrible has happened!"

"What's the panic! Speak slowly!"

Yan Kuan tried to remain calm, but the tremor in his voice was undeniable.

He already had a premonition of what was going to happen.

"Those rioters...those rioters want to seize the land from the landlords and redistribute it!"

The manager's voice was choked with sobs, and he was struggling to breathe.

"They say our Yan family is incredibly wealthy and owns vast amounts of land, and now... now they're coming to our mansion!"

The streets are full of people, armed with knives and sticks, shouting that they want to kill you and take our family's property!

"what?!"

Yan Kuan's face turned deathly pale instantly, his lips trembled, and he couldn't utter a single word for a long time.

He never imagined that the civil unrest he had instigated would ultimately backfire on him!
He incited the weavers to cause trouble in order to force the court to make concessions, to protect the Yan family's smuggling business, and to work with the gentry of Nanjing to force Yuan Keli to leave.

But now, the White Lotus sect wants to rebel against the Ming Dynasty, pirates want to rob him, salt merchants want to emulate Zhang Shicheng, and even the weavers who were initially used by him are now eyeing his property and wanting to kill his people!
"Quickly! Close the gate! Tell the guards to grab their weapons and guard the gate!"

Yan Kuan finally realized what was happening and roared at the steward, his voice filled with despair.

The foreman scrambled to his feet and scrambled out, shouting, "Guards! Grab your weapons! Guard the gate!"

Yan Kuan barely managed to stand by holding onto the desk.

The shouts outside the window grew closer and louder, and you could even hear the screams of the guards and the clanging sound of the gate being smashed.

He suddenly remembered his son, Yan Junbin.

Fortunately, he sent his son to his estate in Beijing; otherwise, he would have perished along with him today.

But what about himself?
Is the Yan family's century-old foundation going to be destroyed in the fire he started himself?

"I'm... playing with fire and getting burned..."

Yan Kuan muttered to himself, two lines of tears sliding down his cheeks.

Outside the window, the gate of the Yan mansion was smashed open with a loud crash, and the rioters surged in like a tide. The shouts of killing, looting, and crying mingled together, completely engulfing this once incomparably luxurious mansion.

Yan Kuan closed his eyes and slid down to the ground in despair.

His meticulously planned gamble ended in a devastating defeat, leaving him with nothing.

Yuan Keli, how could you not come to quell the rebellion?

perhaps……

I should have listened to my son and submitted to Yuan Keli.

But what's the point of talking about these things now?
PS:

Things have changed. I was dragged to a social event, and I have a bit of a headache, which I think is the beginning of a cold. I'd better go to bed early.

If I don't catch a cold, I'll add an extra chapter tomorrow.

(End of this chapter)