How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 320 When the snake emerges from its hole, the water becomes even muddier.

In the imperial residence in Huai'an, the duty room was brightly lit by candlelight.

Emperor Chongzhen sat behind his desk piled high with memorials, his brow slightly furrowed. Most of the memorials were the same as before, urging for payment of taxes and reporting disasters, their words revealing anxiety. The governors and censors of the southeastern provinces were all talking about soaring grain prices and the increasing hardship of the people, implicitly pointing to the likin tax he had levied in Jiangbei and the river works he had promoted.

He put down his pen and rubbed his temples. Outside the window, dawn was just breaking, and fine snowflakes were still falling.

Footsteps sounded softly. Wei Zhongxian, the Grand Master of Ceremonial and Duke of Ningguo, quietly entered, carrying several sealed documents in his hands. He said in a low voice, "Your Majesty, these are the latest reports and secret documents from the north."

Emperor Chongzhen raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the documents: "Where did they come from?"

“One is a report of victory from Sun Zushou, the Governor-General of Jiliao; another is a battle report from General Man Gui; and yet another…” Wei Zhongxian lowered his voice even further, “is a secret report from Lu Xiangshan, the Governor-General of Liaodong.”

"Give it to me." Chongzhen reached out and took it.

He first picked up Sun Zushou's victory report, unwrapped the sealing wax, and unfolded it for a closer look. As he read, his brow gradually relaxed.

The report was written practically, with little empty rhetoric.

"Your Majesty, I, Zu Shou, respectfully report: Thanks to Your Majesty's power and virtue, our army has retreated to Fuyuwei (in the Chahan River bend, now within the territory of Pingquan). Taking advantage of the natural defenses of the mountains and rivers, we have hastily built a new city and stationed troops there. From now on, the valleys of the upper reaches of the Kuanhe and Luanhe Rivers are entirely under our control, which can serve as a base for a protracted war. The front line has been pushed northward by more than a hundred li, greatly reducing the pressure on the defense of the Great Wall in Jizhou. Although the enemy chieftain Dudu is still entrenched in Daning, our army, relying on the new fortifications, can both attack and defend. The situation in western Liaoning has been stabilized."

Emperor Chongzhen nodded slightly. Although Sun Zushou's "Second Battle of Daning" did not capture Daning, the results were still substantial! By occupying the Chahan River bend and rebuilding Fuyuwei City, the battle line was steadily pushed forward by more than 100 li. This not only provided a buffer for the Jizhou Great Wall, but also made almost the entire Kuanhe Valley and Luanhe Valley into reclaimed areas where the Ming army and civilians could settle down. This was a real achievement, a substantial contribution.

He put the victory report aside and picked up Man Gui's battle report.

Man Gui's writing style is much rougher, carrying a fierce, battlefield-like quality:
"...The enemy general Abatai led his cavalry in pursuit, hoping to take advantage of our Manchu relocation. Your servant and that brat Cao Bianjiao ambushed them in a valley twenty miles north of Fuyuwei, and gave them a sound thrashing! We killed over two hundred Manchus and captured countless supplies. The Tartars were terrified and retreated to Daning, daring not to show their faces again!"

A barely perceptible smile appeared on Chongzhen's face. That barbarian Man Gui is indeed skilled in warfare. His counterattack during the retreat, beheading over two hundred genuine slaves, is a genuine victory that will boost morale. Very good.

Finally, he picked up the thickest letter, the one with the word "Secret" written on the cover. It was a secret memorial from Lu Xiang-sheng, the governor of Liaodong.

After peeling off the sealing wax and taking out the letter, Chongzhen read it slowly. The contents of the letter concerned the overall situation in western Liaoning and also his most crucial strategic move.

Lu Xiang-sheng wrote in detail and with deep sorrow, yet his analysis revealed a calm demeanor:

"Your subject Xiang Sheng secretly reports: Zu Dashou's tribe has... shaved their heads and changed their banners, falsely accepting the position of the enemy. However, the territory they hold is not limited to the Xiaoling River area. In order to win their hearts, the false chieftain has already transferred all the former Yingzhou Qian, Hou, and You garrisons (the fertile valley in the middle reaches of the Daling River) to their jurisdiction. Zu's tribe has already obtained the first batch of 50,000 shi of wheat from the enemy..."

Upon seeing the words "shave your head and change your flag," Emperor Chongzhen's eyelids twitched, but he quickly regained his composure. This was a price he had long anticipated, and it was part of the plan.

He continued reading, and Lu Xiang-sheng's analysis became the key:
"...In this way, the upper reaches of the Daling River are now truly under our control. The flanks of Yingzhou Zhongtun Guard under my command in Ningyuan Town and Fuyu Guard newly restored by General Sun have been secured, as solid as a rock. Even more gratifying is that the area west of Ningyuan Town's Tashan, Hulutao and other forts has suddenly become our hinterland, greatly reducing the threat from the enemy. The river valleys that the Ji and Liao towns can now cultivate are more than ten thousand hectares. This is of great benefit to the protracted war in western Liaoning!"

Upon seeing this, Chongzhen slowly leaned back in his chair and let out a long, silent breath. The huge weight on his heart regarding western Liaoning had been lifted considerably.

It's embarrassing. It doesn't sound good to have a general under your command "surrender to the enemy."

But the "inner workings" are incredibly substantial!

Sun Zushou advanced to Fuyuwei, gaining control of the Kuanhe and Luanhe valleys. Zushou's apparent surrender, while seemingly a loss of Xiaolinghe, inadvertently, through Huang Taiji's "reward," transformed the larger and more fertile middle reaches of the Dalinghe River valley into a de facto buffer zone and potential control area! This territory, located on the border of Yingzhou Zhongtunwei (controlled by Ningyuan Town) and Fuyuwei (which Sun Zushou had just captured), saw its defenses in western Liaoning significantly eased after Zushou took control! The amount of arable land increased by well over a million mu.
And the Great Wall was truly safe for the time being. The front line had become the Fuyuwei and the new "Yingzhou Three Guards" line, providing sufficient strategic depth.

This deal is worth it!
He remained silent for a moment, then brought the secret document close to the candlelight, watching the flame lick the corner of the paper until it slowly turned to ashes.

Then, he looked up at Wei Zhongxian, who was standing beside him, and calmly said, "Arrange for the Embroidered Uniform Guard to establish contact with Zu Dashou. Remember, it should be a single-line contact, and the fewer people who know about it, the better."

"This old servant obeys the decree." Wei Zhongxian bowed and replied, then hesitated for a moment before asking, "Your Majesty, regarding the news from Liaoxi... should we suppress it? After all..."

He was referring to the news that Zu Dashou had "surrendered to the Qing," which was, after all, a "scandal."

Emperor Chongzhen cast his gaze toward the increasingly heavy snow outside the window, his tone calm yet tinged with coldness: "Suppress? Why suppress it? Those who need to know will know eventually. You may leave."

"Yes." Wei Zhongxian dared not ask any more questions and quietly withdrew.

Silence returned to the duty room. Chongzhen stood up, walked to the huge map, his gaze sweeping over Fuyuwei, over the three Yingzhou garrisons, and finally settling on the south.

We lost face in the north, but gained substance. Now, we should use this "loss of face" as an excuse to make up for it with even greater "substance" in the south.

He needed to know how arrogant those lurking parasites would become when the news of "the great defeat in western Liaoning and Zu Dashou's surrender to the Qing" reached Nanjing, and how many foolish things they would do that would lead them to their doom!
"Let them make a scene," Chongzhen murmured to himself. "The bigger the scene, the easier it will be to deal with in the future."

His finger gently touched the two characters "Nanjing" on the map.

The snow outside the window fell even harder. Winter in Huai'an is bitterly cold, but it seemed colder than the chill in the young emperor's eyes at this moment.

Located in the eastern part of Nanjing, on the east bank of the Qinhuai River.

This place was a completely different world from the bustling city walls. The riverbank was densely packed with shacks, their roofs made of rotten planks and straw mats, creaking and groaning in the cold wind. Sewage flowed into the river, the air thick with the stench of urine, mold, and an indescribable fishy smell. Most of the refugees from Huaibei and Henan huddled here, waiting for a meager bowl of thin porridge, a meal they might never even get. Deeper into the shantytown, there was a slightly more decent wooden hut, originally a resting place for the guards watching the riverbank, now rented by the "One Bowl Society." The hut was dark and cold. A dozen or so young men from Huaibei, recently joined, huddled together, their necks hunched. Most were around twenty years old, their faces pale, but their eyes held a fierce determination born of desperation.

Xu Chengye sat on a tattered bench in the middle, not wearing a long gown, but just a coarse cotton robe similar to those worn by refugees, faded from washing. He held the booklet "Sharing Food and Farming Land Together" in his hands, and was speaking in a low voice to these newly arrived key members:

"...The book says, why is Huaibei always plagued by disasters? The root cause isn't in the heavens, it's on the earth! Who has taken all the good fields and land? Those gentry and nobles own thousands upon thousands of acres! We, these people, work like oxen and horses for them, and after paying rent, how many grains of rice are left to cook?"

This principle... truly resonated with the hearts of the poor. The young men listened intently, some unconsciously clenching their fists.

"Why does His Majesty want to implement the 'Yellow River-Huai River Diversion'? Is it just because he has too much money to burn? No!" Xu Chengye's gaze swept over the crowd. "It's to eradicate the flooding in Huaibei, to reclaim those good lands that have been flooded and seized by powerful families! And to distribute them to people like us who have no land to cultivate and can only flee famine and beg for food! Each family will have twenty or thirty mu, which will be their hereditary property, and they will only have to pay one-tenth of the imperial tax! Tell me, isn't this better than being a tenant farmer for landlords and paying five or six tenths of the rent?"

A suppressed gasp filled the room. Equal land distribution? One-tenth rent? These were thoughts they'd never even dared to dream of before.

“But!” Xu Chengye’s tone shifted, his voice turning somber. “Some people are unhappy! Those dukes, ministers, and big salt merchants in Nanjing are afraid that once we have land, we won’t serve them like slaves anymore! They’re hoarding grain and driving up prices, hoping to starve everyone and force the Emperor to abandon the river management project! So they can continue to ride roughshod over us!”

These words were like sparks that landed on dry tinder. Several young men's eyes turned red.

Just then, with a loud crash, the wooden door was flung open. A gust of cold wind, carrying snowflakes, rushed in. A young man, dressed in a tattered cotton-padded coat and drenched in sweat, the hem of the coat still dripping wet, rushed in. He was panting heavily, his face pale, and he clutched a crumpled piece of paper tightly in his hand.

"Elder...Elder! It's terrible! The price of rice...the price of rice has gone up again! By a full 20%! Our porridge kitchen...our porridge kitchen is almost unable to operate!" The young man's voice trembled, almost crying.

The room fell silent instantly, everyone turning to stare at him. The air seemed to freeze.

Xu Chengye's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't show it on his face. He recognized the young man as Shi Xiaowu, a clever and reliable man who had been sent by him to the city to inquire about rice prices and to buy some other grains.

"Little Stone, what's the panic! Speak slowly, what happened?" Xu Chengye's voice remained calm.

Shi Xiaowu, panting heavily, handed over the paper in his hand: "I...I just went to check the prices at those big grain shops on Sanshan Street. Yesterday it was 2.8 qian of silver per dou of rice, but this morning it's gone up to 3.4 qian! I asked the shopkeeper why it went up again, and he...he was so rude, he said..."

He swallowed hard, mimicking the shopkeeper's sarcastic tone: "'The north has suffered a defeat! The Emperor has lost vast territories in Liaoxi, and tens of thousands have died! Taxes and levies are about to increase! Plus, that massive river management project in Huaibei—how much grain will that consume? This is the price; take it or leave it! It'll go up tomorrow!'"

He took a breath and pointed at the paper: "And this! They're distributing this 'Jiangnan Times' everywhere in the city. There's an article in it written by someone called 'I Alone Am Awake,' and it's really scary!"

Xu Chengye took the newspaper, still chilled and with ink barely dry, and quickly glanced at it. The article's wording seemed fair, but every word was veiled malice:

"...It is said that the massive 'Diversion of the Yellow and Huai Rivers' project will require the conscription of no fewer than 300,000 laborers, last for three years, and consume tens of millions of bushels of grain. However, the war in the north is currently at a stalemate, and military pay has doubled; the provinces of the Central Plains and Shandong are suffering from continuous famine, and relief efforts are already stretched thin. With the national treasury so empty, how can we undertake such an unprecedented mega-project? Where will the money and grain come from? Are we really going to drain the pond to catch all the fish, and plunder the fertile lands of the southeast? If so, I fear that before the river disaster is quelled, popular uprisings will break out..."

"They lost the battle?"

"Lost territory?"

"Another tax increase?"

"Three hundred thousand laborers? Several million bushels of grain? This... how much grain would that be?"

The young men in the room immediately stirred, panic spreading like a plague. The figures and reports in the newspapers filled them with more despair than the rising food prices. It was a despair brought on by a massive, irresistible force.

"Quiet down!" Xu Chengye shouted, silencing the noise. He stood up, walked to Shi Xiaowu, and asked sharply, "Did the grain store manager say these words himself? And is this newspaper newly published?"

“It’s absolutely true! The grain shops are all saying it! The newspapers were just put up, they’re all over the streets! And… some people are saying that some general from Liaoxi, surnamed Zu, has surrendered to the Tartars!” Shi Xiaowu said urgently.

Xu Chengye remained silent for a moment, his fingers gripping the copy of "Jiangnan Times," his knuckles turning slightly white. Outside the window, the desolate shantytown of disaster victims was punctuated by faint cries. Inside, his brothers breathed heavily, their eyes filled with fear.

Suddenly, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Far from being alarmed, a cold smile, like that of a hunter finally waiting for his prey to step into a trap, appeared on his lips. He crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it at his feet.

He slowly turned around, looking at the bewildered and uneasy young faces in the room. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the pervasive panic like a knife:

"Good! The snake has finally come out of its hole!"

Everyone was stunned, not understanding what it meant.

Xu Chengye walked to the center of the room, his gaze sweeping over every face: "Do you really think that just because the north suffered a defeat, the price of rice in Nanjing could rise by 20% in a single day? Are those grain merchants really that well-informed? Why are the articles in 'Jiangnan Times' so opposed to the management of the Huai and Yellow Rivers?"

He suddenly raised his voice and stomped on the wad of newspapers: "They're scared! They're scared that the Emperor will really tame the river, scared that we'll really get our share of land! So they're trying to cause trouble, raise prices, create panic, and force the court to back down! They want to tell the Emperor, and us, that they still control the money and grain in Jiangnan! Without them, everyone will starve! Even the newspapers have become their megaphone for inflating grain prices and misleading the public!"

"Then... then what do we do?" a young man asked in a trembling voice.

"What do we do?" Xu Chengye sneered. "They want to muddy the waters, so let's make them even muddier!"

(End of this chapter)