How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 312 I, the Emperor, know best how to change people's hearts!

The Salt Transport Office of Huai'an Prefecture has been the Emperor's temporary residence for the past few days. The soldiers standing guard at the entrance have been replaced by fierce soldiers from the Imperial Guard, wearing cloth-covered iron armor, their hands on their waists, their eyes scanning the street without a trace of a smile.

In a side hall of the yamen, Emperor Chongzhen did not sit in the main seat, but stood before a map of the Huaiyang waterway that occupied most of the wall. On the map, a nearly straight new waterway had already been drawn in vermilion ink. This was the waterway that Chongzhen planned to complete before September of the seventh year of his reign!
The reason for the rush is that the Yellow River will experience another breach this month, even more severe than the one in the fifth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign! Without a new river channel to divert the floodwaters, the consequences would be unimaginable—remember, the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth years of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign were all years of great disasters! The difference between gaining or losing a few million acres of fertile land could determine the rise and fall of a dynasty!

At this moment, Duke Zhang Zhiji of England and Salt Commissioner Cui Chengxiu entered one after the other, followed by several clerks carrying a tall stack of documents, which they gently placed on the ground.

“Your Majesty,” Zhang Zhiji bowed and said, “most of the lists of recommended talents and guarantee documents submitted by the prefectures and counties north of the Yangtze River are here.”

Emperor Chongzhen turned around, casually picked up the top register, and flipped through it. The register was densely filled with names, places of origin, and backgrounds. A smile appeared on his face: "Good. It seems that I, the prefect of Jiangbei, am quite capable in my work. I've gathered all the people so quickly."

He put down the roster, but when he looked up, he saw Zhang Zhiji and Cui Chengxiu looking at each other with a hint of hesitation on their faces.

"What is it?" Chongzhen's gaze swept over the two of them. "Speak your mind."

Zhang Zhiji took a breath and forced a smile, saying, "Your Majesty, the people are all here. However... out of the ten people on this list, six or seven have their place of origin listed as... military."

"Military status?" Chongzhen didn't even flinch. "So what if you're a military person? My Great Ming Taizu Emperor rose from the ranks. Minister Zhang, isn't your Zhang family a military family? Minister Cui, is your Cui family a civilian family?"

Cui Chengxiu hurriedly said, "We are naturally of military rank. However... Your Majesty, in the Jiangbei region, especially in the prefectures of Fengyang, Chuzhou, and Hezhou, the commanders and assistant commanders in the garrisons are mostly descendants of founding meritorious officials, and they have... quite close ties with the dukes, marquises, and earls in Nanjing." He didn't say it explicitly, but the meaning was clear.

Zhang Zhiji added, lowering his voice: "I have taken a quick look, and among these people, there are quite a few who are distant relatives of the Xu family of the Duke of Wei, the Zhu family of the Marquis of Funing, and the Liu family of the Earl of Chengyi."

This makes it even clearer. These children of military officials were people that the nobles from Nanjing had stuffed into the country.

Upon hearing this, Emperor Chongzhen was not angry at all; instead, he chuckled softly. He walked to the window and looked at the gray sky outside.

"Whether their ancestors were Xu Da, Liu Bowen, or ordinary military households, what does it matter?" Chongzhen's voice was calm, with a slight smile on his face. "What I value is not where they come from. What I value is what kind of people I can mold them into. Whether they become pillars of the nation or just bones in a tomb. I know best how to reform people's hearts!"

Zhang Zhiji and Cui Chengxiu were both startled and quickly bowed, saying, "Your subject understands!"

……

A few days later, next to the Qingjiangpu Wharf, on a newly leveled open space, stood a dense crowd of over a thousand people. Tall and short, fat and thin, dressed in silk robes and coarse cloth, their expressions varied—some nervous, some curious, and a few with a hint of arrogance. All eyes were fixed on the newly erected wooden platform in front of them. A plaque hung on the platform, covered with a red cloth, and stood beside it, along with officials including Duke Zhang Zhiji of Yingguo and Salt Commissioner Cui Chengxiu.

Emperor Chongzhen, dressed in a slightly worn yellow robe with a dragon design, walked step by step onto the stage. He didn't speak immediately, his gaze slowly sweeping from left to right, looking at the young faces below. The hall was eerily quiet, with only the wind on the canal making the flags flutter.

"I am very happy today!" Chongzhen said, his voice clear and bright, with a deliberate hint of the Huaihe River region's accent. "To see so many young men from Huaihe River region standing here!"

With just that one sentence, many sons of military households and garrison families in the audience shifted their gazes. The Emperor's accent made him seem less distant to them.

"Some people may have told you that you came here to seek an official position and a better future. That's true, but not entirely true!" Chongzhen's voice rose, and he raised his arm, pointing westward. "I ask you, what is the name of this land beneath our feet?"

No one in the audience said a word.

“It’s called Huaixi! It’s our ancestral home in Huaiyou!” Chongzhen answered himself, his voice turning somber. “But what’s happening to our ancestral home right now? Half of Fengyang has just been flooded! The ancestral tombs in Sizhou are almost lost! Many of our elders and fellow villagers are starving and freezing on the walls! How can you bear this?! Our Great Ming Dynasty has been established for over two hundred years, and our birthplace is still like this. How can I feel at ease?”

These few words struck the hearts of many local youths like a hammer blow, and some began to have tears in their eyes.

Chongzhen's gaze sharpened, landing abruptly on the few particularly robust young men at the very front of the group. The leader, in his early twenties, had a dark, ruddy complexion, broad shoulders, and stood there like an iron tower, his eyes gleaming with an indomitable spirit.

"You! State your name! Who were your ancestors?" Emperor Chongzhen pointed at him.

The burly young man shuddered, puffed out his chest, and said in a booming voice, "Your Majesty! I am Xu Chengye, from the Right Guard of Fengyang! My ancestor was the Prince of Zhongshan Wuning!"

"Good!" Chongzhen praised, then turned his gaze to a man beside him. This man was slightly shorter than Xu Chengye, but he exuded a sharp and capable air, with piercing eyes and tightly pursed lips, revealing a ruthless edge.

"You, what's your name? Who are your ancestors?"

"Student Chang Yanzuo is from Suzhou Guard! His ancestor was the Loyal and Martial King of Kaiping!"

Emperor Chongzhen nodded, a look of reminiscence on his face: "The Prince of Zhongshan, the Prince of Kaiping... they were all founding heroes who followed our Great Ming Emperor Taizu, fighting their way out of the Huaihe River region with sword and spear! Without them, there would be no Ming Dynasty!"

His tone abruptly shifted, his voice sharp and resonant: "I, Zhu Youjian, am just like you, a descendant of the Huaiyou people! Today, I, a descendant of the Taizu Emperor, want to ask you, the descendants of meritorious officials, one question: This empire, built by the Taizu Emperor and your ancestors, is now beset by internal and external troubles. Are you willing to watch it rot away, or are you willing to follow me and rebuild it?"

"I am willing to follow Your Majesty!"

"We are willing to die for Your Majesty!"

The roar from the audience was deafening, especially from the somewhat fallen descendants of great meritorious officials like Xu Chengye and Chang Yanzuo, whose neck veins were bulging. The glory of their ancestors was intertwined with their current predicament, and the emperor's accent and expectations mingled together, making them immediately sense an opportunity for rapid advancement.

"Shouting isn't enough!" Emperor Chongzhen raised his hand to suppress the thunderous roar, his expression turning serious as he uttered an even sharper statement. "I know you might be thinking that this tax collection job is bound to offend people. Well then, today, I'll establish a rule!" His gaze swept across the entire hall, each word distinct and clear: "To demonstrate fairness, I have issued an imperial edict! From this day forward, all official ships carrying grain, royal purchases, and even my personal belongings, passing through the grain transport checkpoints, shall be subject to the tax according to the law! No exceptions shall be made for any vassal kings or members of the imperial family who have goods passing through the territory! The affairs of the emperor's family are also affairs of the state, and I—shall set an example for the world!"

These words struck like a thunderbolt, stunning everyone. Even Zhang Zhiji and Cui Chengxiu abruptly raised their heads, their faces paling. The Emperor had effectively blocked all paths for himself and all his relatives!

Before anyone could think it through, Emperor Chongzhen threw out his last, and most crucial, question: "I ask you again! If you were to be in charge of tax checkpoints in the future, and you encountered merchant ships belonging to your own clansmen, such as those from the Duke of Wei's or the Duke of Ying's families, passing through your territory, would you dare to collect the transit tax in full, without missing a single penny, in accordance with the 'Regulations for the Transport Tax'?!"

This question was so tricky, it hit right where it hurt. Everyone held their breath.

Xu Chengye was the first to jump out, his face turning dark red, and he roared hoarsely, "Dare! Why wouldn't I dare! I eat the emperor's food and serve the emperor! Let alone my relatives, even if my father came, I wouldn't be shortchanged on my taxes!" His words carried the recklessness of youth, but they were exceptionally powerful.

"Yes! The rules are paramount!"

"Anyone who dares to evade taxes is a traitor to the country!"

The audience erupted in cheers, like a pot boiling over.

Looking at the young faces contorted with excitement, Chongzhen finally revealed his most relaxed smile of the day. He spoke slowly, yet in a way that everyone could hear:
"Good! That's exactly what I wanted to hear, that kind of spirit!"

"Remember what you said today! Remember the blood that flows in your veins!"

"From this day forward, you are no longer soldiers from any garrison, nor distant relatives of any noble family! You have only one title—the first cohort of students at the 'Grand Canal Transportation Tax Training Institute'! You are my 'disciples of the Emperor'!"

"One month from now, I want to see you transformed, becoming the sharpest blade and the most loyal gatekeeper on the Grand Canal of my Great Ming!"

"Long live your Majesty! Long live! Long live!"

The roar of the crowd was so powerful it nearly ripped a hole in the sky. Emperor Chongzhen stood on the platform, looking down at the surging crowd. He knew that the sword handed to him by his opponent, after this tempering, now held its hilt firmly in his grasp.

……

Inside the training institute, Zhang Zhiji and Cui Chengxiu personally oversaw the proceedings. The rules were extremely strict. The "secretaries" (officials from the Huguang Ministry of Finance) brought by Emperor Chongzhen from Huguang were learning practical skills such as the likin tax regulations, accounting, and commodity identification. Xu Meng, Tang Dingchen, and Chang Yanzuo, among others, didn't have a strong foundation, but they were incredibly hardworking, and with their families' reputations, they quickly became leaders among the students. That spirit of being "disciples of the emperor" slowly spread among the thousand or so people.
Western Liaoning, the Xiaoling River Valley, a desolate place.

In Liaodong, the sky becomes so overcast in autumn that it seems about to collapse. In the Xiaoling River Valley, where the floodwaters have receded, the land is desolate; the autumn harvest that should have been stored away has been completely lost!

Zu Dashou huddled beneath a half-collapsed beacon tower, a thin layer of frost forming on his armor. He listened to the intermittent sounds of horns and horses' hooves outside the valley, and his heart, like the weather, grew cold.

The food supplies are almost exhausted.

The commanders-in-chief of Jiliao, Lu Xiang-sheng, the general of Ningyuan, He Ke-gang, and the general of Shanhaiguan, Zhao Shuai-jiao, did try to help him. Within a month, they launched three fierce attacks, attempting to open a route to the valley. However, the Eight Banners troops seemed to have anticipated this, each time managing to divide their forces and cross the western mountains, stabbing the reinforcements in the flanks and rear like knives, making it difficult for Lu Xiang-sheng and his men to advance, and incurring heavy losses. While Lu Xiang-sheng's troops were capable of fighting on the plains, they were no match for the Eight Banners troops who had emerged from the mountains and forests of western Liaoning.

The last attempt was made five days ago. In the valley to the southeast, the sounds of battle raged all day, gradually fading away by nightfall. Zu Dashou knew it was all for naught again.

The grain supply route was completely cut off. The Xiaoling River Valley became a dead end.

But he still wouldn't give up, and came here every day to look around, but there was still no sign of anything happening.

Just as the warmth in his heart was about to dissipate, a very slight sound suddenly came from the other side of the cliff, like a stone rolling down.

"Who?!" The guard suddenly grabbed his knife.

In the darkness, two shadowy figures, almost blending into the rocks, tumbled and crawled towards them, covered in blood, their cotton robes torn to shreds. The leader, upon seeing Zu Dashou, tried to kneel, but collapsed to the ground, barely breathing.

“You…you are…” Zu Dashou’s pupils contracted.

The man struggled, pulling a small package wrapped in layers of oilcloth, stained with dark brown blood, from a pocket close to his skin. His lips moved, his breath coming in gasps: "The Grand Coordinator... Grand Coordinator Lu... sent... sent... the Emperor's... edict..."

The word "Your Majesty" struck like a bolt of lightning, illuminating Zu Dashou's almost lifeless eyes.

He lunged forward, almost snatching the oilcloth bag. It was heavy and hard in his hand, like a branding iron.

The oilcloth bundle was peeled back layer by layer, revealing an envelope soaked in blood and sweat, sealed with the bright red imperial seal. Beside the envelope lay a small, cold bronze tally.

The letter was not opened.

Zu Dashou's fingers hovered over the seal, trembling violently. He knew that these few thin pages might be the verdict on the fate of these thousands of brothers, and even the entire Liaoxi region.

Outside the valley, the sound of Jurchen cavalry hooves once again grew louder as they approached.

Zu Dashou clutched the letter and the bronze tally tightly, raising his head to look southeast—the direction of Beijing, the direction of Huai'an. The Emperor…at this time, sent this imperial edict…what exactly is written inside?
Is it to urge on the enemy? Or to hold their ground? Or... something else entirely?
(End of this chapter)