How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 1: The Ming Dynasty may perish, but the world must not! (New book launch, Luo Luo is working hard again, please add to your collection!)

August 24th, the seventh year of the Tianqi reign (1627), Beijing.

Before the Hall of Supreme Harmony in the Forbidden City, on the steps leading to the palace, the new emperor Zhu Youjian sat regally on his gilded dragon throne. The seventeen-year-old prince was wrapped in a heavy twelve-symbol robe, the jade beads on his crown swaying slightly with his habitual bowing. In the square before the hall, thousands of officials, dressed in somber black robes, stood in solemn silence according to their rank, stretching from the palace gates to the Meridian Gate. After the three kneelings and nine kowtows, a thunderous roar erupted:

"Long live my emperor! Long live! Long live!"

The deafening shouts jolted Zhu Youjian (Zhu Siming) awake.

This scene... has returned.

Is it a dream?

This time it felt too real. The heavy scent of ambergris, the uncomfortable feel of the dragon throne beneath him, and the faint musty smell of the old palace... everything was so real that his heart skipped a beat: He'd transmigrated again!
That's right, another time travel... He's experienced; this isn't the first time!

He remembered his past life, how he hanged himself from a crooked tree on Coal Hill. He also remembered how the History of Ming Dynasty in his later life smeared the ancestors of the Ming Dynasty and him, the last emperor of a fallen dynasty! Every time he read those slanderous words from the Qing Dynasty demons, his heart ached, yet he was helpless—history is always written by the victors.

In the "New Celestial Dynasty" of later generations, he could only live on with deep-seated hatred and the pain of his past life. From his first words to his first lessons, he desperately absorbed the knowledge of that era while pondering why the Ming Dynasty had perished.

After being admitted to the Department of Political Science and Law at Handong University, he read extensively on the history of the Ming Dynasty, becoming increasingly indignant at the Qing Dynasty's historical revisionism and slander of the Ming. He also deeply reflected on his past life, regretting his youthful arrogance and inappropriate actions—abolishing post stations, forcing border troops to rebel, frequently changing governors, causing the deaths of loyal officials, and destroying the Great Wall himself… Of course, most importantly, he never truly understood what the fundamental basis of the Ming Dynasty was. If the Ming Dynasty was to survive, who should bear the cost?
He would often secretly weep in seclusion, weeping for the fall of the Ming Dynasty, for the extinction of the ancestral temples, for the history book that had been altered beyond recognition, and even more so for the 268 years of dark and hopeless Manchu rule that he had brought upon himself due to his lack of wisdom!
Now... fate has actually given him another chance!

What I'm seeing is definitely not a dream!

Thinking of this, he pinched his thigh hard.

Ouch...that really hurts!
Suddenly, tears welled up without warning, instantly blurring her vision.

He cried not from sadness, nor from fear, but from the almost ecstatic shock of rebirth.

"I'm back... I'm back again!" he cried out in his heart, hot tears streaming down his face. "Ancestors... the land... the mountains and rivers of all Han people..."

At this moment, his hatred for the Manchu Qing dynasty burned like a raging fire. It was not merely a personal grudge, but the blood and tears of all Han Chinese! He once summarized the reactionary rule of the Manchu Qing dynasty into eight great hatreds: hatred for their slaughter of hundreds of millions of Han people, hatred for their forced shaving of heads and changing of clothes, hatred for their enclosure of land and enslavement of Han people, hatred for their literary inquisitions that stifled thought, hatred for their century-long legacy of isolationism, hatred for their falsification of history to defame the Ming dynasty, hatred for their killing of Han descendants and extinguishing the family line! He hated even more the later Manchu remnants who distorted the truth and recognized the enemy as their father!

Now I can get my revenge!

Below the steps, the cabinet ministers and nobles closest to the throne, such as Grand Secretary Huang Lijie, Duke of Yingguo Zhang Weixian, and Duke of Chengguo Zhu Chunchen, were all dressed in plain clothes with black armbands. They were the first to notice the emperor's unusual behavior. They exchanged a subtle glance.

Upon ascending the throne, the new emperor, remembering his predecessor, was overcome with grief and wept uncontrollably… This is the essence of his benevolence and filial piety, his pure and virtuous nature! Truly a blessing for the nation!
Huang Lijie nodded slightly, a look of "it should be so" of satisfaction on his old face. Zhang Weixian, who was over fifty years old, stroked his beard, his shoulders shrugged slightly under his plain clothes, and said in a low voice to Zhu Chunchen beside him, "His Majesty is kind and compassionate by nature. The spirit of the late Emperor in heaven must be pleased." Zhu Chunchen nodded in agreement, his eyes also reddening in response.

Further away, the officials, though unable to see the details of the throne clearly, saw the senior ministers kneeling motionless in the front row, and none dared to make a sound, assuming the new emperor was immersed in grief. In the vast square, only the solemn and subdued ceremonial music still echoed, making the weeping coming from the throne seem even more profound and sorrowful.

Time passed little by little.

The crying didn't stop; instead, it became even harder to suppress—she was too agitated!

The relief on Grand Secretary Huang Lijie's face gradually turned into worry. This... seems to have been a prolonged period of grief? It might harm the Emperor's health.

He turned his head to look at the side of the imperial steps, where the white-faced, beardless eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, the head of the Eastern Depot, and the powerful "Nine Thousand Years Old"—Wei Zhongxian.

Wei Zhongxian's brows were furrowed. The new emperor's ascension had already made him incredibly anxious, as if walking on thin ice. When Emperor Tianqi was alive, he was the Grand Tutor, his word was law. But this Prince Xin was known for his cold, resolute nature and his aversion to eunuchs. Today, at the enthronement ceremony, the new emperor hadn't uttered a word, only wept bitterly. Was this grief genuine? Was it for the late emperor? Or… something else entirely? Wei Zhongxian truly couldn't fathom the young emperor's thoughts.

Seeing Huang Liji cast an inquiring glance, Wei Zhongxian took a deep breath, bowed, and with a light step that belied his imposing stature, carefully moved to a spot about ten feet in front of the throne, then knelt down, lifting his robe. At the same time, Grand Secretary Huang Liji also stepped forward and knelt slightly behind Wei Zhongxian.

"Your Majesty..." Wei Zhongxian's high-pitched voice was deliberately kept extremely low, filled with utmost respect, "Your Majesty, please take care of your health... If the late Emperor were alive, he would surely be troubled to see Your Majesty so grieved... I beg Your Majesty to prioritize the well-being of the nation and take care of your health..."

Huang Lijie also kowtowed and said, "Your Majesty is extremely filial and benevolent, which moves Heaven and Earth. However, the grand ceremony is not yet over, and the affairs of the country rest on Your Majesty's shoulders. We earnestly hope that Your Majesty will take care of your health to comfort the late Emperor and to reassure the hearts of the people." The two most powerful people in the court and outside the court offered their consolation together. Although their voices were soft, they clearly reached Zhu Youjian's ears.

Zhu Youjian, lost in a whirlpool of emotions, was pulled back to his senses by that familiar, high-pitched voice and the refined, scholarly advice. He blinked hard, squeezing out the tears that blurred his vision, and looked through the swaying jade algae at the two people kneeling below the steps—especially the burly old eunuch.

Wei Zhongxian! Nine thousand years old? Only a thousand years younger than the emperor? No, my Ming Dynasty cannot tolerate such an arrogant person! From now on, you are not nine thousand years old, you are a walking nine million taels of silver!
Over the years, you and your cronies have been embezzling, how much have you pocketed... What's most despicable is that you only know how to be greedy, you don't share any of the money with me! I'll be the first to punish you and your cronies for your corruption! I'll use the methods of the Manchu Emperor Qianlong to deal with corrupt officials like you—the "punishment silver"! The greater the crime, the more silver you have to pay; the more silver you pay, the more you can atone for your crime; the more you atone for your crime, the less serious your crime becomes...

Then look at those seemingly respectful nobles and ministers below the steps. Humph, they all look like "golden men." When Li Zicheng is not here, they are all honest officials. But when Li Zicheng arrives, they are all people with huge amounts of property of unknown origin!
This time, we can't let Li Zicheng get away with it. Anti-corruption... I understand it better than Li Zicheng! I fought against those corrupt officials for thirty years in later generations, and I understand their minds better than anyone!

Zhu Youjian dug his fingertips into his palm again, the pain proving once more that he had truly returned. Through the swaying jade altar, he gazed at the kneeling officials below the steps, having already devised a plan in his mind.

"So what if the Ming Dynasty's empire is ruined? So what if the dynastic cycle has ended? I can still follow the path of the Manchus... and leave them with nowhere to go!" He sneered inwardly. What's a sum of money for punishing crimes? I'll sell official positions and titles! What's a local militia? I'll train the loyal ministers and generals of the Ming Dynasty to create an army even more ferocious than the Xiang and Huai armies!

"Hong Chengchou is short of funds for suppressing bandits in Shaanxi? I ​​will allow him to collect the likin tax from Fujian!"

"Sun Chuanting wants to train a new army? I grant him permission to sell official titles in Shaanxi for silver!"

"Isn't Zheng Zhilong good at organizing naval affairs and dealing with foreigners? I want to appoint him as the Minister of Trade for the Southern Seas! We can exchange silk, tea, and porcelain for those foreign guns and cannons that will make the nomadic peoples of the grasslands sing and dance!"

He envisioned a future where Hong Chengchou would become Hong Guofan, Sun Chuanting would become Sun Hongzhang, and Lu Xiangsheng would become Lu Zongtang… Perhaps in the end, the Ming Dynasty would still have a “big head” training troops at a small station, and a “big cannon” that would start a revolution.

So what? It's still better than letting the Jurchens be slave owners for over two hundred years! Maybe the Ming Dynasty can even get a "preferential treatment for the Ming imperial family" regulation.

"I'd rather this world become like the chaotic late Tang Dynasty than let the Jurchens reap the rewards!" he resolved. The thought of later historical accounts claiming the Qing Dynasty's rule was the most legitimate made him nauseous. Did those Manchus who had shaved their heads and changed their clothes deserve to sit in the Forbidden City?
Wei Zhongxian was still grumbling about mourning. Zhu Youjian stared at his plain python robe and suddenly wanted to laugh. This powerful eunuch probably never dreamed that he was about to achieve his greatest "anti-corruption feat." All the embezzled silver would just be used as a "special fund for the annihilation of the barbarians and the pacification of Liaodong"!
"Your Majesty?" Huang Liji called out again tentatively when he saw that the emperor had not spoken for a long time.

Zhu Youjian had regained his composure. Thirty years of experience in officialdom had honed his composure, and it now came in handy. He slowly raised his hand, wiping away the tears on his face with his sleeve, his voice hoarse yet unusually steady:

"I... understand."

The three words were spoken very softly, yet they sent a shiver down Wei Zhongxian's spine. There was no fear in the tone of a new emperor, nor the naivety of a youth; rather, it sounded like a seasoned official who had seen it all saying, "I understand."

"My lords... rise."

The officials, as if granted a pardon, rose to their feet. No one noticed, however, that the young emperor's eyes, beneath his crown, were coldly scanning each of their official hats—hats that might one day bear a price tag.

Zhu Youjian's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile—his most pressing needs right now were to make money and acquire dogs!
After an unknown amount of time, the enthronement ceremony finally came to an end. Three whip cracked through the air, and Zhu Youjian, supported by eunuchs from the Directorate of Ceremonial, slowly rose. The jade ornaments on his twelve-tassel crown remained unmoved. He held the jade tablet in both hands, level with his abdomen, and stepped down the steps, his black boots treading over the golden bricks of the imperial road.

Wei Zhongxian was about to step forward to help him up when he saw the new emperor suddenly turn his head and give him a gentle smile. That smile carried a scrutinizing quality.

"Wei Banban," Zhu Youjian said in a calm and unhurried tone, with just the right amount of warmth, "over the years, you have devoted yourself wholeheartedly to the late emperor, and I have remembered it all."

Wei Zhongxian's burly body visibly trembled, then relaxed, a fawning smile spreading across his face: "This old servant is terrified. It is my honor to serve His Majesty."

Zhu Youjian nodded slightly.

"From now on, I will have to rely more on Consort Wei for all matters of state," Zhu Youjian said gently. "Remember... be steady. The court must be steady, the people must be steady, and you, as the Ninth Prince, must be even more steady. No matter what happens in the future, keep me calm!"

As the ceremonial procession slowly moved and Zhu Youjian turned to leave, a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

Wei Zhongxian stood there, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He felt that there was something hidden in the new emperor's words that he couldn't understand.

(End of this chapter)