How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 322 Without me, you cannot survive
The city of Nanjing, inside Jubao Gate, was in complete chaos.

A dense, dark mass of people surged through the city gates like a floodgate bursting open, overflowing the streets. Cries, curses, and the sounds of impact mingled together, deafening everyone. Snowflakes mixed with dust swirled in the air, landing on faces, icy cold.

In the crowd, Xu Chengye hunched over, his voice hoarse from shouting. He grabbed a key member of the "One Bowl Society" beside him and pointed west: "Quick! Take a team to the west warehouse of the Duke of Wei's mansion! Make a big commotion!"

He shoved Chang Yansi hard again: "Yansi! You take three teams! Go to Sanshan Street and wipe out the 'Qian's Rice Shop' for me! Remember, only rob the grain, don't hurt anyone, and don't touch the common people's shops!"

Chang Yansi nodded emphatically and roared, "Third team, follow me!" Dozens of burly men followed him, rushing against the flow of people towards Sanshan Street.

Shi Xiaowu charged ahead. He carried a thick wooden stake that he had somehow salvaged, followed by seven or eight lean young men with fierce eyes. They had a clear objective: to head straight for the heavy, iron-clad wooden door of the "Qian's Rice Shop."

"Smash!" Shi Xiaowu spat into his palm and swung the wooden stake to smash it.

boom!boom!
The wooden door made a dull, loud thud, but remained completely still.

Beside him stood a boy, barely fifteen or sixteen years old, as thin as a stick, wearing a tattered jacket with the cotton showing through. He was jumping up and down in a panic, but couldn't squeeze in. He was Zhu Xiaoba, a refugee from Fengyang Prefecture. His parents and several older brothers were all gone, leaving him all alone.

Shi Xiaowu glanced at him, shoved a stolen hammer into his hand, and said, "Hey kid, don't just stare! Break the lock! If you break it, there'll be a mountain of white rice inside, enough for you to eat until you're stuffed!"

Zhu Xiaoba's eyes suddenly lit up, like a hungry wolf seeing meat. He grabbed the hammer, howled, and pounced on the door, smashing the brass lock with all his might. Clang! Clang! Clang! Sparks flew everywhere.

More and more refugees surged in from the surrounding area, blocking the entrance to the rice shop. The crowd grew increasingly restless.

"Open the door! You son of a bitch, you swindler!"

"I'm starving! Open the door!"

Suddenly someone shouted, "The warehouse is on the back street! Go around there!"

A portion of the crowd immediately shifted direction and surged backward along the alley.

boom! Click!

The bolt on the front door finally snapped with a crack. The two heavy doors were violently flung open by the flow of people outside.

Zhu Xiaoba was the first to be pushed in, staggered a few steps, and fell to the ground. The hammer in his hand flew out of his hand.

He looked up, completely dumbfounded.

The warehouse was pitch black. But the light filtering in from the doorway revealed piles of things stacked inside, like mountains, stretching as far as the eye could see. They were all burlap sacks, bulging and stacked almost to the rafters. The air was thick with the smell of stale rice and mildew. Many sacks were torn, spilling out white grains of rice that formed a thick layer on the floor, some already blackened and clump-like.

Zhu Xiaoba lay on the ground, his hands deeply embedded in the pile of rice. The cold grains of rice trickled through his fingers.

He stood there stunned for a long while, then suddenly grabbed a handful of mold and dust and stuffed it into his mouth, choking until his eyes rolled back. But tears welled up uncontrollably, mixing with the black mud on his face and streaming down his face.

He swallowed, whimpering like a wounded stray dog, then suddenly burst into a heart-wrenching cry:
"Grain...it's all grain! So much grain...why...why are people still starving to death! Why?!"

His cries were like water dripping into boiling oil, instantly causing an uproar.

The refugees who surged in later turned red with rage at the sight. The curses and cries grew louder. People rushed towards the pile of rice like madmen, desperately grabbing and stuffing it with their clothes, broken bowls, and bare hands.

The rice shop's guards tried to stop them, but were instantly swallowed up by the surging crowd. Clubs swung down from nowhere, and the screams were drowned out by the even louder noise.

Xu Chengye led his men in, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the scene. Chaos had broken out; things were getting out of control.

"Hold on! Only take the rice! No one is allowed to hurt anyone!" he roared hoarsely, leading his men to desperately separate the crazed crowd and the guards who still tried to resist. The scene was extremely chaotic.

At almost the same time, several noble residences in Nanjing were thrown into chaos.

At the gate of Zhao Zhilong's mansion, the assistant garrison commander still tried to maintain his military bearing. He donned half-armor, brandished a sword, and ordered his servants and guards to block the gate. But there were too many refugees outside, and bricks and tiles rained down upon them. The first few servants were instantly wounded, bleeding profusely, and fell to the ground howling. The rest let out a shout, turned, and ran into the mansion, ignoring Zhao Zhilong's attacks and curses. Looking at the gate, which was being smashed and looked like it was about to fall apart, the last trace of color drained from Zhao Zhilong's face, and his sword clattered to the ground. Several of his close retainers dragged him up, desperately pulling him towards the secret passageway behind the artificial hill in the back garden.

Marquis Zhu Guobi of Funing was even more pathetic. He hadn't even considered resisting; he had already had his trusted men pack his gold, silver, and valuables into several bundles. Hearing the loud crash as the front gate was smashed open, he panicked so much he lost a shoe. Supported by two servants, he tried to slip away through the back gate. But the alley behind the gate was also crowded with envious refugees. Seeing his bloated appearance and brocade robes, they knew he was a big fish. With a shout, the crowd surrounded him. Zhu Guobi was terrified, clutching his bundles tightly, crying and screaming, being pushed and shoved around. His official hat was askew, and several bloody scratches appeared on his face.

Marquis Chengyi, Liu Kongzhao, thought himself clever. He changed into a servant's tattered clothes, smeared soot on his face, and tried to slip away among the fleeing servants. But he was used to a life of luxury; his hands were fair and delicate, and his gait was completely different from that of ordinary people. He had only taken a few steps out of the side gate when he was spotted by a sharp-eyed man from the "One Bowl Gang."

"Stop! You old man, your hands are softer than a woman's, what are you pretending for!" The man grabbed him.

Liu Kongzhao tried to argue, but his first words were in heavily official Mandarin, immediately giving him away. The surrounding refugees quickly searched his clothes and found land deeds and banknotes. Amidst shouts of "Kill this corrupt official!", Liu Kongzhao fled in panic, his tattered hat falling off to reveal his meticulously combed hair. He looked even more disheveled than Zhu Guobi.

Fortunately, a core member of the Bowl Society was secretly protecting them, otherwise these two nobles would have been beaten to death on the spot!

At this moment, the dignity and prestige of these nobles in Nanjing, who had been officials for generations, were shattered by the instinct for survival, leaving them only in a pathetic state of panic and despair, like stray dogs.

……

The atmosphere inside the Nanjing Garrison Command was equally oppressive and frightening.

Minister of Rites Qian Qianyi, garrison commander and Duke Dingguo Xu Yunzhen, and Prince Qin Zhu Cunshu sat around a charcoal brazier, holding teacups, without saying a word.

Footsteps were hurried, and a constable tumbled in, shouting, "Report! The refugees have stormed into the outer courtyard of the Duke of Wei's mansion! The servants can't hold them off!"

Another bailiff rushed in, his hat askew: "Report! Qian's Rice Shop on Sanshan Street has been...robbed! The storeroom has been opened!"

Qian Qianyi's white beard twitched, and he closed his eyes. "Qian's Rice Shop, that's his!"
This can't be a coincidence!
He sighed deeply, his voice tinged with helplessness: "Alas... these problems have been accumulating for too long, for too long indeed!"

Duke Dingguo, Xu Yunzhen, had a livid face and gritted his teeth, saying, "If it weren't for the unscrupulous merchants hoarding the goods and the nobles' indulgence, how could such a popular uprising have been provoked? Those scoundrels truly deserve to die!"

He had to distance himself from the Duke of Wei's mansion. Although they were all descendants of Xu Da, he was not one of those scoundrels!

Prince Zhu Cunshu of Qin nodded in agreement: "Mr. Qian and the Duke are absolutely right. This is a man-made disaster, not a natural one. As important officials in the capital, our priority should be to appease the people!"

Qian Qianyi opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the two men. His tone was somber, yet every word hit the nail on the head: "If this were during the reign of Emperor Taizu Gao, these scoundrels who hoard goods and disregard the people's livelihood should all be exterminated!"

These words were spoken in a grand and righteous manner. But all three men knew perfectly well that these refugees were sent by the Emperor of Huai'an to Nanjing to smash the plates of nobles, wealthy merchants, and powerful gentry!
But who among them dared to speak out? To do so would be to openly accuse the emperor of inciting a popular uprising, which would be the real calamity of extermination.

Besides, those scoundrels in Nanjing are utterly outrageous! Didn't they see the nobles in Beijing, and the princes of the north and Huguang all pledge their allegiance? Why don't they realize the gravity of the situation? They're constantly causing trouble, thinking that because they control the grassroots of the financially vital southeast, the Emperor can't do without them and won't dare touch them. Now look what's happened—the Emperor has mobilized displaced people to enter the city and loot. What kind of mess is this?
Just then, a wail erupted outside the door. Xu Yinjue, the heir apparent of the Duke of Wei, with disheveled hair and torn official robes, stumbled in and grabbed the Duke of Dingguo's leg: "Your Excellency! Uncle! Save my family! The rioters... the rioters are about to storm the mansion! My mother... my mother is almost fainting from fright! Send troops! Send troops to quell the rebellion!"

The Duke of Dingguo's lips twitched, and he tried to pull his leg out, but failed. He looked at Qian Qianyi.

Qian Qianyi took a deep breath, knowing there was no escaping it. He stepped forward to help Xu Yinjue up, his tone grave: "Your Highness, please calm down. With the Emperor's 10,000 Imperial Guards stationed at Xiaolingwei, the sky over Nanjing will not fall."

He turned to the King of Qin and the Duke of Dingguo, and said in a deep voice, "The only solution now is to quickly dispatch General Li of the Imperial Guard into the city to suppress the bandits who are taking advantage of the chaos, disperse the refugees, and restore order. At the same time..."

He paused, then emphasized, "It must be immediately announced to the entire city that the Duke of Wei, the Marquis of Funing, and other dukes are loyal to the country and deeply understand righteousness. They have obeyed the Emperor's decree to open the granaries and distribute grain to relieve the disaster victims! This will appease the people!"

Upon hearing this, Xu Yinjue nearly fainted. Open his granary? What was the point of all the commotion then? Just bring out the grain early, and everything would be fine.
Before he could object, the Duke of Dingguo and the King of Qin immediately nodded: "Mr. Qian's insight is brilliant! That's exactly right!"

What they feared wasn't the refugees, but the emperor in Huai'an. The only thing they could do now was follow the emperor's lead, quell the disaster as quickly as possible, and extricate themselves from the situation. As for the Duke of Wei's family… their losses certainly amounted to more than just the grain.

His family couldn't bear the accusation of hoarding and speculating, which incited a popular uprising.

Moreover, you, a noble lord who guarded the capital and served as the "second emperor" for two hundred years, not only failed to maintain order but also instigated a popular uprising. How can the emperor, the gentry of the southeast, and the merchants of Nanjing, Suzhou, Yangzhou, Songjiang, and Huai'an still trust you? And if this popular uprising, caused by Nanjing nobles colluding with unscrupulous merchants to hoard goods and speculate, is ultimately quelled by the emperor's imperial guards...

Therefore, the protectors that merchants and small and medium-sized landowners in the prosperous southeast could rely on changed from the nobles who remained in Nanjing to the emperor himself.
The order to quell the rebellion was quickly drafted, sealed with the joint seal of the garrison command, and sent swiftly to the rear camp of the Imperial Guard outside the city.

……

When Li Changgen, the commander-in-chief of the Imperial Guard's rear army, received the order, his troops were already fully armored and armed, and had assembled.

He glanced at the order and sneered. Those three foxes in the garrison are actually quite sensible; they're all loyal subjects!
"Order! All battalions shall proceed into the city according to the predetermined routes! Anyone who resists shall be killed without mercy! The primary objective is to control the main thoroughfares and all major government granaries and the private granaries of nobles and relatives!"

"Further order! After entering the city, each team shall loudly proclaim along the way: The Duke of Wei and the Marquis of Funing have opened the granaries and distributed grain in accordance with the imperial decree! Those who wish to receive grain shall register at the official granary and shall not engage in any further looting!"

Upon receiving the order, tens of thousands of elite troops, like tigers and wolves released from their cages, split into several groups and quickly marched into the chaotic city of Nanjing.

The army entered the city with a completely different air. Their swords and armor gleamed, and their ranks were impeccably disciplined. The commands of the officers and the footsteps of the soldiers drowned out the noise of the street.

When they encountered small groups of truly ruthless bandits who were taking advantage of the chaos to rob, kill, and commit arson, the army showed no mercy, using bows, crossbows, swords, and guns to kill them on the spot. The bloody heads displayed quickly brought the chaotic scene to a standstill.

For most of the displaced people, the army primarily focused on dividing and dispersing them. Soldiers formed ranks with long spears, advancing step by step, forcing the crowd into side streets and alleys. Simultaneously, they continuously shouted commands:

"By imperial decree, the rebellion has been quelled! The Duke of Wei and the Marquis of Funing have opened their granaries to distribute grain!"

"Those who want to live, go to the official granary to register and receive grain! Anyone who dares to loot again will be punished for treason!"

This news was more effective than swords and spears. The starving refugees, upon hearing that there was food to be received, immediately lost most of their will to resist.

Under the deliberate guidance of the core members of the "One Bowl Society," the flow of people began to withdraw from the noble residences and shops, gradually converging towards several designated official granaries.

Xu Chengye, Chang Yansi, and the others were covered in sweat and their voices were hoarse, but they all breathed a sigh of relief as the situation gradually came under control. Shi Xiaowu pulled the still dazed Zhu Xiaoba and followed the crowd toward the official granary. Zhu Xiaoba was clutching a tattered cloth bag tightly in his arms, filled with musty rice that he had just snatched from Qian's Rice Shop.

……

The guardhouse in Huai'an was brightly lit, yet eerily quiet.

One urgent dispatch after another from Nanjing landed on Emperor Chongzhen's desk. Wei Zhongxian and Gao Qiqian stood in the shadows, hands at their sides, not daring to utter a sound.

Emperor Chongzhen read through the petitions one by one, his face expressionless. When he saw the joint petition from Qian Qianyi and others requesting the mobilization of troops to "quell the rebellion" and announcing that "meritorious officials and nobles will distribute grain as ordered," the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly, whether in mockery or satisfaction, it was unclear.

He put down the last book and tapped his fingers lightly on the smooth tabletop.

"Tall companion."

"The servant is here."

"Practice."

"Yes."

Chongzhen spoke calmly, yet with an undeniable authority.

"Firstly, it is hereby declared: Xu Hongji, the garrison commander of Nanjing and Duke of Wei, along with Zhao Zhilong, the garrison commander of Xincheng, Zhu Guobi, the Marquis of Funing, and Liu Kongzhao, the Marquis of Chengyi, have failed in their duties in defending their territory and in managing their subordinates, resulting in popular uprisings and disturbances in the capital. Their crimes are unforgivable. They are hereby stripped of all their official titles and handed over to the Ministry of Justice, the Censorate, and the Court of Judicial Review for joint trial!"

"The second decree is issued by Ming: Governor Qian Qianyi, Garrison Commander Dingguo, Prince Qin, and others made timely decisions to appease the local people, which greatly pleases me. I hereby appoint Qian Qianyi to temporarily assume all garrison duties in Nanjing, with the Duke of Dingguo and Prince Qin assisting him, to ensure that the people's hearts are calmed and order is restored as soon as possible."

"The third decree," Emperor Chongzhen paused, his gaze sharpening, "is hereby proclaiming to Southern Zhili: I have heard that the circulation of money and grain in Jiangnan has never been standardized, leading to unscrupulous merchants and corrupt officials manipulating market prices and exploiting the common people. Therefore, the 'Southern Zhili Money Industry Association' is hereby established, and a 'Grand Money Exchange for Salt and Grain Transport' shall be set up in Yangzhou. All taxes, likin, salt tax, and even the existing money and grain in the granaries of meritorious officials and nobles of all prefectures and counties shall be uniformly managed by the Grand Money Exchange to stabilize market prices and provide relief to disaster victims. There must be no errors!"

Gao Qiqian, the Grand Secretary of the Directorate of Ceremonial, wrote with lightning speed and powerful strokes; every word he uttered was like a heavy hammer blow, soon to strike the hearts of the nobles in Nanjing. Dismissal, interrogation, acting administration, the establishment of a general council… this was an attempt to uproot them completely and overthrow the regime!

The imperial edict was drafted, reviewed by Emperor Chongzhen, and stamped with his seal. Wei Zhongxian bowed and quickly withdrew to arrange its delivery.

Once again, only Emperor Chongzhen remained in the duty room. He stood up, walked to the huge map, and his gaze swept over Nanjing and the entire Jiangnan region.

He harbored no personal grudges against these clowns.

They should no longer sit in those unworthy positions, hold wealth that is not theirs, or possess popularity and trust that they do not deserve.

Those positions should be reserved for those who can help the world weather the storm. That wealth should be used to fill the immediate financial hole facing the Ming Dynasty. And the only reliable protector for the countless small and medium-sized landowners, merchants, and intellectuals in the southeast is Emperor Chongzhen!

“They always thought,” Chongzhen murmured to himself, as if speaking to the air, or perhaps to an unseen adversary, “that the southeast would cease to function without them.”

He shook his head, his eyes as cold as ice.

"Now they should understand."

"This prosperous southeastern land truly cannot survive without me!"

(End of this chapter)