Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 269 One Hundred Years of Solitude
Outside Jinling City, dust billowed along the official road.

A squad of Xuanjia Imperial Guards escorted an inconspicuous blue carriage slowly toward Tongji Gate. Inside and outside the city gate, Jinyiwei and Yingtianfu yamen runners had already cleared the way. The people craned their necks to watch and whispered among themselves, but no one dared to speak loudly.

All they knew was that the person sitting in the carriage was the current Emperor of the Ming Dynasty.

The car rumbled along until it reached a fork in the road.

One side leads to the old residence in the south of the city, where the emperor previously stayed; the other side points to the long-silent Nanjing Imperial City, which is now almost a ruined garden.

The carriage curtain remained unmoved, yet a calm and unwavering decree emanated from within:

"Instead of going to the old residence, we will move to the imperial city."

Upon hearing the sound, Li Ruolian, the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard who was accompanying the emperor, reined in his horse and froze abruptly.

He exchanged a glance with Zhou Quan beside him, both of them looking solemn.

The bloodshed at Jiming Temple yesterday has not yet faded, and today the emperor is about to enter the Forbidden City in Nanjing. The profound meaning behind this is self-evident.

"Send the order!" Li Ruolian no longer hesitated. "The imperial guards are to be dispatched to protect the four gates of the imperial city! No unauthorized personnel are allowed to approach! Lord Zhou, I will have to trouble you with the cleaning, defense, and daily life matters within the palace."

Zhou Quan also said solemnly, "Lord Li, rest assured. Even if we search the entire Nanjing Imperial Palace thoroughly, we will not find the slightest oversight."

Without needing to say anything more, the large group of people split up in an instant.

The Imperial Guards, like a surging tide, silently rushed towards the key passes throughout the imperial city.

The imperial guards, under the command of their officers, lined up in front of the palace gates, their swords and spears drawn, their cold gleam reflecting the sun.

The entire city of Nanjing seemed to be shrouded once again in an invisible net, and at the center of the net was the former imperial palace that was about to welcome the current emperor of the Ming Dynasty.

The emperor's carriage finally stopped in front of Fengtian Gate.

Zhu Youjian stepped down from the carriage and stood beneath the steps.

Before me were mottled stone steps, the vermilion lacquer on the palace buildings was peeling off, and the bronze beasts on the eaves were covered with a layer of gray-green.

This place was once the site of the founding of the Ming Dynasty, and witnessed the magnificent power of Hongwu and Yongle.

However, with the long period of peace and the changing of the capitals between the north and south, this place has long lost its former appearance.

Li Ruolian and Zhou Quan quickly stepped forward, bowed, and pleaded guilty: "Your Majesty, the palace has not been repaired for a long time. In haste, the arrangement is crude and inadequate. Your subject begs for forgiveness."

You Jian waved his hand, his gaze not leaving the majestic and silent Fengtian Hall.

He didn't say anything, but simply started climbing the steps.

On the steps of the imperial palace, every inch of stone was polished until it was so shiny that it reflected light, without a speck of dust.

The vermilion lacquer on the pillars was also brand new, and one could still smell a faint aroma of tung oil mixed with sandalwood.

This place had clearly been carefully cleaned and repaired by officials in Nanjing, all in preparation for welcoming the emperor.

However, this excessive neatness and cleanliness, due to the lack of human presence, exudes a grand yet cold and lifeless desolation.

The dragon boots trod on the smooth stone steps, producing not a dull thud of dust being trampled, but an exceptionally clear echo in this vast open space.

Step by step, firm and powerful, as if the emperor's footsteps were meant to fill the palace's centuries of solitude!
None of the ministers behind him dared to speak out; they could only follow.

At this moment, Li Ruolian's doubts completely disappeared. He was certain that the emperor's stay in Nanjing was not just for the trivial matters of the Buddhist and Taoist monks.

……

Inside the Yingtian Prefecture government office, Yingtian Governor Sun Chuanting was reviewing the performance evaluation files of officials from various prefectures and counties in Yingtian Province with several subordinate officials.

Since taking office by imperial decree, he has been decisive and efficient in rectifying officialdom. With the emperor personally overseeing things in Nanjing and the intelligence gathered by the Embroidered Uniform Guard in the early stages, everything is in good order and the implementation is quite smooth.

A young eunuch strode in and announced in a shrill voice, "Lord Sun, His Majesty has summoned you to the Fengtian Hall."

Sun Chuanting put down his pen, the ink still wet on the table. Without the slightest hesitation, he got up, straightened his official robes, and instructed his subordinates to file the documents before setting off immediately.

The journey from the government office to the imperial city was not far. During the sedan chair ride, he had already heard from others about what had happened at Jiming Temple the previous night.

From the execution of Liaofan to the massacre of monks, and then to the extraordinary scene of officials and gentry kneeling before the imperial palace to surrender themselves.

In the past, upon hearing that the emperor had acted in this way, Sun Chuanting, with his upright and honest nature, might have been puzzled or doubtful, and might even have secretly condemned the act as akin to indiscriminate killing.

However, times have changed.

His thoughts drifted back to Shaanxi.

The horrors there were etched into his heart like a branding iron.

The human tragedy of exchanging children for food, the crying infants being thrown into boiling water; the dead of starvation everywhere, the barren land, the once fertile fields turned into desolate graves!
In contrast, the Qin King's mansion was filled with gold and jade, and the food from one dog in the mansion could feed several families.

Those local princes, officials, and powerful figures, like giant leeches, greedily sucked the lifeblood of the Ming Dynasty, relentlessly draining its marrow and bones, yet still not satisfied.

Having witnessed such a living hell, and looking back at the various incidents at Jiming Temple, Sun Chuanting felt a surge of pent-up frustration welling up in his chest.

This is not indiscriminate killing, but rather a painful but necessary process to remove the poison.

These pests cannot be eradicated without strong medicine or sharp blades.

Your Majesty, this time, you did a good job of executing him!

The sedan curtain was lifted, and they had arrived at the imperial city.

Sun Chuanting composed himself and quickly entered the palace, passing through the long corridor and arriving at the Fengtian Hall.

The palace doors were wide open, and many people were already standing inside. He looked closely and his heart skipped a beat.

Bi Ziyan, Minister of Revenue, and Wen Tiren, Minister of Rites, were already present. To his even greater surprise, Wei Zhongxian, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, who was supposed to be in charge of maritime trade and land surveys in Songjiang Prefecture, was also standing by.

Wei Zhongxian was thinner and more reserved. Gone was the arrogance of the former Nine Thousand Years Old. Only his eyes, sharp as a hawk's, remained as he stood quietly beside the throne.

His presence here signifies that the matter of Songjiang has been settled, and also indicates that the Emperor intends to incorporate a completely new force into the grand scheme to come.

Sun Chuanting understood that today's discussion must concern the very foundation of the nation!
He stepped forward and, along with several others, bowed to the emperor on the throne.

"Your subject, Sun Chuanting (Bi Ziyan, Wen Tiren, Tian Ergeng, Zhou Quan), pays his respects to Your Majesty."

"This old servant, Wei Zhongxian, pays his respects to Your Majesty."

"Gentlemen, you may rise." Zhu Youjian's voice echoed in the hall. He raised his hand, gesturing to Wang Chengen.

"Wang Chengen, set up a long table."

Upon receiving the order, several junior eunuchs worked together to carry in a long, narrow table made of huanghuali wood and placed it in the hall. The table surface was so smooth that it reflected one's image.

"All of you, please be seated."

As soon as this statement came out, everyone was stunned.

When discussing matters before the emperor, apart from the honor of being granted a seat by senior ministers and high-ranking officials, ordinary court discussions usually involve standing and speaking. Today, the emperor has ordered everyone to sit down, which shows that this meeting will last for a long time and the matters discussed cannot be explained in just a few words.

The people took their seats according to their rank, with Sun Chuanting sitting at the lower end, his back straight and his eyes fixed straight ahead.

Then, two more eunuchs carefully carried a huge scroll forward and slowly unrolled it on the long table.

Sun Chuanting's gaze fell on the map.

The picture is quite strange.

It was not any of the "Map of the Ming Dynasty" that he was familiar with.

There is no clear demarcation of the two capitals and thirteen provinces on it, nor is there a detailed marking of the prefectures and counties.

The entire map uses freehand landscape painting as its base, but different colors of vermilion and ink lines are used to outline crisscrossing lines.

Some routes follow canals and the Yangtze River, while others connect several seemingly unrelated towns.

Several places on the map are circled in red ink, making them particularly eye-catching. Place names such as Songjiang Prefecture, Jingdezhen, Foshan Town, and Longjiang Pass are marked with words like "cotton," "porcelain," "iron," and "ship" in tiny characters.

Sun Chuanting stared at the painting, his brows slightly furrowed.

He could tell that this was definitely not a map intended for administrative or military use.

What appears to be outlined on it is... some kind of pattern?
What are the connections between trade routes?
Or is it the network of local products?
He couldn't figure it out for a while.

But Sun Chuanting did not ask any questions; he simply sat there quietly, waiting patiently.

Over the past year, the Emperor's actions have made him understand one thing: every action Your Majesty takes has a profound purpose. Your incomprehension is not because the matter is absurd, but because your understanding has not yet reached the level His Majesty has in perceiving!
Sun Chuanting even had an extremely disrespectful thought: His Majesty... where did you learn all this knowledge? Whether it is the precise method of surveying and measuring land, the swift and decisive measures taken to govern Jiangnan, or this strange and unheard-of painting before him, none of them seem to have come from the hands of an emperor in the deep palace.

The thought flashed through his mind only briefly before he extinguished it immediately.

This is not something a subject should speculate on.

The abilities of a ruler are as high as the sky and as deep as the sea; his subjects can only look up to them and obey him.

The hall fell silent for a moment, with only the howling wind outside the window.

Everyone is in position.

Zhu Youjian's gaze slowly swept over everyone present. This was the core team he could rely on in Jiangnan at the moment.

His gaze eventually fell on Bi Ziyan, the Minister of Revenue, and Wei Zhongxian.

"I have summoned you all today," the emperor said in a clear, cold voice, yet with a penetrating power.

"Only one thing to discuss."

He paused, giving everyone a moment to ponder and hold their breath, before slowly uttering a term that none of those present understood:
"The Outline for the Revitalization of Industry in the Ming Dynasty".

The words fell.

The room fell silent.

Bi Ziyan and Wei Zhongxian both showed a hint of understanding. He had obviously consulted with the emperor beforehand. Although his expression was solemn, he was not surprised.

However, Wen Tiren, Sun Chuanting, and others all wore the same blank expression.

Industry?

Revitalization?

Outline?

They recognized each character individually, but when put together to form this so-called "outline," it was completely unheard of to them, leaving them utterly bewildered and unable to discern its meaning.

They felt an unprecedented sense of unfamiliarity as these words rushed towards them.

This atmosphere was completely different from the discussions of classics, history, philosophy, ancestral laws, and morality held in the imperial court.

It is cold, pragmatic, and full of a certain indescribable sense of power.

Looking at the excessively young emperor on the throne, Sun Chuanting knew that what he was about to hear would likely completely overturn his understanding of governing the country.

And that strange map was the beginning of it all.

(End of this chapter)