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

Chapter 315 Today is different from the past

Sun and Hong engaged in a fierce verbal battle, turning the warm pavilion into a powder keg, just one spark away from exploding.

These words truly tore off the mask of pretense, revealing the true intentions of both of them.

The air inside the pavilion seemed to freeze instantly, so thick that even a knife couldn't cut through it.

The emperor on the throne still looked like a god, his dragon eyes closed, whether asleep or lost in thought, it was hard to tell.

Sun Chuanting's heartfelt and tearful words were like a gust of wind that swept past his ears, leaving no trace whatsoever.

Such a deathly silence made Sun Chuanting feel like he was sitting on pins and needles; the cold sweat on his back had soaked through the lining of his crane-patterned robe.

But in Hong Chengchou's eyes, this was an opportunity given to him by God, and he couldn't help but step forward and add insult to injury.

Hong Chengchou knew perfectly well that those who only knew how to stab people in the back were butchers, not capable ministers.

If we don't show them the benefits later, we probably won't get through this today.

As soon as he thought about it, his expression changed completely. He looked exactly like a head manager in a bank, fiddling with abacus beads, his eyes and brows revealing a shrewdness that was calculating every penny.

The King of Hell who was so quick to chop off people's heads has now become a smiling God of Wealth.

“Your Majesty,” Hong Chengchou began, his voice suddenly losing its previous sharpness, becoming soft and smooth like oiled silk, supple yet resilient, “What I was saying was all about ‘breaking.’ Use a knife to destroy his clan, use a board to break the cunning in his bones.”

But if we only destroy without building, then Zhejiang will become a scorched earth, filled with resentment and utterly barren. Therefore, my backup plan is to 'build'.

"Use this gleaming silver to pave the way for Your Majesty, to re-establish a compliant trade route, and incidentally, to mold those unruly people's hearts a little more firmly."

His words were like a pile of gleaming coins suddenly placed on a table of blood-soaked butcher knives; the pungent smell of copper coins instantly diluted the stench of blood throughout the room by seven or eight parts.

The emperor's heavy eyelids finally lifted slightly, as if waking from a dream, and he hummed in response.

Upon hearing this, Hong Chengchou's spirits immediately lifted.

He hurriedly pulled out a report framed in brocade from his wide sleeves, his manner more like an actor about to put on a grand finale than a minister offering advice.

Hong Chengchou spread the report out on the small table in front of him, pointed to one spot with his finger, and began to sing again.

This is the most important move in his "establishment" strategy—killing the chicken to scare the monkey, no, it's "setting up a chicken to show the monkey."

"Your Majesty, as soon as I arrived in Zhejiang, I carefully observed all the merchant guilds and finally settled on the Liu family in Huzhou Prefecture, who specialize in silk. This family is considered a wealthy landowner in the area, but the wonderful thing is that no one in their family has ever been a proper scholar, and they don't have any sons of officials in the court to back them up. Aren't they just an easy target, whom I can easily manipulate?"

"I personally summoned Liu Boyong, the head of his family, and without wasting words, I went straight to the point and told him that the court was serious this time, and those who obeyed me would prosper, and those who defied me would perish. Liu Boyong was a clever man. Upon hearing this, his knees buckled, and he immediately kowtowed and pledged his allegiance."

"I then signed a special 'Imperial Merchant' contract with his family. The contract clearly stated that all the raw silk produced by the Liu family thereafter must be sold first to the government-run weaving bureau at the price set by the government. The 'Liu Ji' silk produced by his family would be awarded a 'Imperial Tribute' stamp, which would be used exclusively by the ladies in the palace to make clothing, and the rest would be sold overseas by the Maritime Trade Office."

Along the way, at every checkpoint and tax station, seeing this stamp meant free passage! Your Majesty, just think about it, once this contract is displayed, isn't that like giving the Liu family a death warrant... no, a protective charm! It's like opening a golden road straight to their damned Dragon King's treasury!

When Hong Chengchou got to this point, a smile crept across his lips. Hidden within that smile was a thorough understanding and wanton manipulation of the greed and contempt in people's hearts.

"Your Majesty, the ink on that contract hadn't even dried yet, and the price of raw silk in the entire Huzhou Prefecture plummeted like a deflated balloon. Those bastards who had hoarded silk at home, hoping to sell it when prices were higher, were now seeing that the Liu family's crumbling ship had managed to climb onto the powerful tree of the imperial court and monopolize the sea trade. They were filled with fear and envy, like cat claws scratching at their hearts—it was incredibly painful."

"Nowadays, who would dare to hoard a single silk cocoon? Everyone is racking their brains, pulling strings, and using back channels, crying and shouting to sell their goods to the government-run textile bureau, for fear that if they are a step too late, their vast fortune will really become a pile of rotten grass to feed pigs!"

"Your Majesty, look! With just a flick of your wrist, the Liu family, an insignificant family, has brought the entire silk trade of Huzhou, and even a large part of Zhejiang, firmly into your grasp!"

Hong Chengchou paused deliberately, his voice carrying a smug satisfaction as if he were manipulating a tiger: "I want to teach these country bumpkins who have never seen the world a lesson from their filthy bones: follow the court and you'll have meat to eat; oppose the court and you'll be left with nothing! This business partnership with the court is their only bright path to a full stomach, and it's the only way they can survive... a narrow bridge."

The last one, "the single-plank bridge," Hong Chengchou uttered it extremely softly, as softly as a needle, but when it pierced Sun Chuanting's ear, it made the hairs on the entire back of his head stand on end.

Hong Chengchou seemed not to see Sun Chuanting's face, as if he hadn't heard anything, or perhaps that was the effect he wanted. He casually turned a page of the report and continued with his second act, "opening up auxiliary roads".

"Your Majesty, raw silk, salt, and iron are the lifeblood of Zhejiang, the goose that lays golden eggs. They must be chained up and firmly held in the hands of the court. This is the right way. But as the saying goes, even a rabbit will bite when cornered."

If all their avenues were blocked, these merchants would surely be forced to take desperate measures and return to their smuggling activities overseas. Therefore, while I was in Hangzhou, I spearheaded the establishment of a 'Business Promotion Association' for them.”

"This meeting is for those small businesses that deal in tea, rice wine, broken porcelain and tiles, and Longjing tea. Anyone can join, as long as they agree to pay the taxes according to the new tax rate set by the imperial court. Then it's easy. The Maritime Trade Office will give you a certificate for your goods, allowing you to take the proper sea route and go to sea openly to exchange them for foreign currency."

"I also conveniently simplified all those previously convoluted official documents, burying all the minutiae in this document and handling everything perfectly."

"Wouldn't this be like showing these headless flies a way out? I'll block their dog hole leading to the lawless land, and then personally open a window for them to make big money legitimately. I'll hold a big stick in one hand and a meat bun in the other. I'll hold my precious darling in one hand and let go of the cats and dogs in the other."

This process of division and reconciliation caused internal discord to arise among the merchant groups that had previously banded together and dared to challenge the imperial court. They became suspicious of each other and could no longer work together as a united force.

And those scattered soldiers and ruffians will have to be grateful to you, willingly sending tax money into the national treasury. I did a quick calculation, and just this one trick alone will bring Your Majesty's private treasury an extra three million taels of silver in less than a year!

As soon as the words were spoken, it seemed as if one could truly hear the sound of silver ingots rolling all over the floor in the warm pavilion, a sound that was both seductive and alluring, full of bewitching magic.

Hong Chengchou's elaborate scheme, combining "destruction" and "establishment," "blocking" and "dredging," meticulously calculated both human nature and interests to the bone.

He intends to use silver as chains and government officials as locks to bind all the wealth of Zhejiang tightly and bring it to the emperor's feet.

Sun Chuanting listened with a straight face, his mind in turmoil.

Although Hong Chengchou's economic strategy of exploiting the land was somewhat unscrupulous, it was undeniably a swift and effective tool to cut through the mess.

If these tricks were only used within the circle of merchants, even if Sun Chuanting looked down on them, he would only consider it a contest of skill between the two, one preferring drastic measures and the other favoring gentle remedies.

However, when Hong Chengchou continued speaking with great enthusiasm, mentioning his malicious idea of ​​"using merchants to control the gentry," Sun Chuanting finally lost his composure.

Hong Chengchou said smugly, "Your Majesty, the merchants of this world are all spineless cowards. They love money, but they envy those who can bring glory to their ancestors even more."

If you only give him money but not his dignity, he will always feel like a rootless duckweed and will feel uneasy.

Therefore, I have dared to add several honorary titles such as "honorary deputy envoy" and "assistant clerk" to the newly established government-run textile manufacturing bureau and maritime trade office.

"These official positions sound impressive, but they have no real power, and the salaries are just empty promises. However, I have spread the word that whoever pays the most taxes and gives the most tribute to the court in the 'Industrial and Commercial Promotion Association' will have their sons appointed to these positions."

They were permitted to wear specially made robes, follow behind officials, enter and exit government offices, and sit in on meetings. Your Majesty, don't you think this is simply giving them a ticket to squeeze into the upper class? A respectable position that allows them to burn incense before their ancestors' tablets and boast!

As soon as he said that, Sun Chuanting's thin, withered face seemed to have been whipped hard, instantly stretching like a cowhide drum. All the color drained from his face in a flash, leaving only a deathly pale complexion.

Suddenly, two flames of disbelief and anger ignited in his sunken eye sockets.

Sun Chuanting finally couldn't hold back any longer and spoke up again.

The voice, as if each word was being forced out from between his back teeth, was filled with a chilling rage. "Hong Hengjiu! You...do you know what you're doing?!"

This low shout had nothing to do with the decorum of a court discussion; it was more like the final roar of a gambler who had lost everything in a casino, directed at a madman about to overturn the table.

"You're using filthy money to tarnish your reputation! You're digging up the ancestral graves of my Great Ming Dynasty, which has stood for over two hundred years!" Sun Chuanting's body trembled with rage.

He disregarded all talk of disrespect before the emperor, took a half-step forward, and stared intently at Hong Chengchou with eyes as sharp as knives.

"What did our Great Ming Dynasty rely on to establish itself? It relied on the imperial examination system to select officials, and on us scholars to govern the country! The four characters 'scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants' may sound like an old saying, but they are the rules and foundation upon which our dynasty established its rule and governed hundreds of millions of people! With scholars at the top, we can educate the people, teach them manners and shame; with merchants at the bottom, we can quell their restless hearts and prevent them from using money to cause trouble!"

"But what you've done!" His voice was filled with anguish. "Today you actually want to bring those money-grubbing scoundrels to the halls of power, to make them sit on equal footing with the scholars who have studied diligently for ten years! Where do you think all the scholars in the world will put their faces? You're turning this officialdom into a brothel where you can just pay your way in, a filthy and disgusting marketplace!"

He grew increasingly angry as he spoke, spitting out words of spittle:
"What kind of people are merchants? A bunch of greedy, treacherous, and self-serving scoundrels! If they were to shamelessly enter the officialdom and compete with us scholars who have studied the classics, what kind of moral atmosphere would the officialdom have in the long run? What would become of the court's discipline?"
Today, in an effort to win people's hearts, you promoted a bastard from the Liu family to the position of "assistant clerk," which seems rather insignificant.

But what about tomorrow?

All those rich bastards in the world will see this as a ladder to heaven, rushing up like mad dogs! They'll use mountains of gold and silver to buy higher 'fame' and more important 'positions'!

"By then, the officialdom will only recognize money, not people. Selling official positions will become commonplace. Those honest and upright officials will have no chance to rise in the future! The integrity of the scholars that our Great Ming Dynasty has painstakingly cultivated for two hundred years will be completely ruined by you, you son of a bitch, in less than ten years!"

Sun Chuanting was so excited that he danced with joy, as if he could already see that terrible future:

"At that time, the memorials from the Hanlin Academy, the censors of the Censorate, and the officials in charge of the Six Ministries will fly to the capital like paper money for a funeral, landing on His Majesty's desk!"
Their pens will become the most poisonous swords, nailing you, Hong Chengchou, and me, Sun Chuanting, together to the pillar of shame in history, leaving us infamous for eternity! They will hurl insults at us from behind, calling us treacherous villains who opened the floodgates of commerce to disrupt politics and wreak havoc on the court!

This barrage of angry words, like a thunderclap, made the warm room buzz.

Faced with Sun Chuanting's almost shrewish attitude of pointing his finger at him and cursing, Hong Chengchou simply stared at him with cold eyes, showing no sign of panic on his face. Instead, a faint trace of pity flickered across the corner of his mouth.

Only after Sun Chuanting had cursed until his throat was dry and he was out of breath did he slowly open his mouth. But his words were sharper than knives, sharp and confrontational, and he wouldn't give an inch.

“Sun Boya,” he surprisingly addressed Sun Chuanting by his courtesy name, sounding unusually solemn, “I understand your worries. I’ve also studied those grand principles from the classics that you spout. But times have changed!”

Hong Chengchou took a half step forward, lowering his voice, which carried the scent of Shaanxi's wind and sand, and the stench of blood: "Just a few months ago, you and I were on those loess slopes of Shaanxi! You saw with your own eyes the refugees gathering everywhere, the corpses of the starving scattered across the land! And before that, before His Majesty personally went to Shaanxi to deliver his thunderous blow, what was that scene like? People exchanging children to eat each other, people eating each other! Those aren't just words in books, they're the stench of human flesh that you and I smelled! Sun Boya, have you forgotten all of that?!"

He suddenly raised his voice, howling like a wolf cornered at the end of its rope: "If it weren't for His Majesty's relentless efforts to turn the tide since his ascension to the throne, the national treasury would still be empty, the border troops would be starving, and mouths agape across the land would be waiting to be fed! In the end, is this still the time to calmly and rationally talk to these ungrateful wolves in Jiangnan? If we try to reason with them again, the Ming Dynasty will be damned!"

Hong Chengchou's gaze, like two awls, pierced past the trembling Sun Chuanting and went straight to the young emperor on the throne.

Although his words were disrespectful, they were filled with the loyalty of a desperate man.

"Why did Your Majesty abandon the comfortable nest of Beijing and come to this brothel-filled Jiangnan? Why?! Isn't it because the old rules left by the founding emperor can no longer support this family? Isn't it to squeeze some living oil from these fat pigs of Jiangnan who are rolling in money but won't even give a hair out of them, for the court, for the border troops, and for the millions of people in the country who are starving to death!"

These words were truly crude and vulgar, yet they were like a butcher's knife, brutally tearing open the unspoken understanding between everyone present.

Sun Chuanting's face turned a deep purplish-red, and he was rendered speechless by the man's words.

Seeing this, Hong Chengchou became even more unforgiving, his tone filled with a cold and sarcastic ruthlessness: "As for those criticisms in the court that you are worried about, Brother Boya... ha."

He let out a short, cold laugh from his throat, and his hawk-like eyes flashed with a manic light.

"As long as what we do fills His Majesty's coffers, makes the cannons at the border strong—and satisfies His Majesty!"

Hong Chengchou emphasized the last sentence, the meaning of which couldn't be clearer: "What are those bookworms who hide in the Hanlin Academy, relying on their literary skills to curry favor and gain a reputation for integrity, gossiping behind people's backs, writing a few pretentious memorials, and uttering a few bland farts?"

……

Good guy!
Sun Chuanting was completely stunned by Hong Chengchou's utterly shameless and outrageous words.

He stared blankly at the most familiar stranger before him, wanting to say...
Do you remember?

The hillside outside the window was bathed in moonlight.
The problem is, he feels like his brain has become a complete mess.

Because he discovered that every word Hong Chengchou spoke, though it sounded like it came from the mouth of a thug—vulgar, obscene, and treasonous—was also like an incredibly sharp boning knife, each cut precisely piercing the most painful and rotten hole in the body of the Ming Dynasty, which was riddled with festering sores and oozing pus.

Sun Chuanting's concerns were the kind of long-term, reputation-conscious worries that scholars have.

What he feared was that the potent medicine he drank today to save his life would one day become a deadly poison that would erode the very foundation of the entire dynasty.

Hong Chengchou's method, however, was that of a butcher or a gambler.

He didn't even look ten or twenty years into the future; all he wanted was to keep the Ming Dynasty afloat!
Live on, even if it's just to barely survive!

The two people inside the pavilion looked just like two door gods.

One was a paperhanger who wanted to repair the dilapidated house and mend the cracks; the other, forced by reality, became the sharpest and most shameless knife in the emperor's hand, wishing he could smash all the jars, pots, and ancestral tablets in the house to pieces so that he could make room for silver.

All their calculations, all their conflicts, all their foresight and shortsightedness, all their schemes and anxieties about the future of the world, were now laid bare before the emperor like two naked bodies stripped bare.

The warm pavilion was once again plunged into a silence reminiscent of a mass grave.

This silence was longer and heavier than ever before.

The air was as thick as maltose that couldn't be dissolved, sealing these two high-ranking officials with their contrasting expressions, along with their two completely different approaches to governance, within this small space.

Sun Chuanting and Hong Chengchou stood there like defeated roosters, heads bowed, saying nothing more, quietly awaiting the final verdict.

They all knew perfectly well that this was no longer just a matter for Zhejiang or Yingtian province.

The emperor's next words would set the tone for the future of the Ming Dynasty.

I don't know how much time passed; it felt like an hour, or perhaps just a blink of an eye.

The emperor finally made a move.

He didn't look at the two ministers below him, who were as taut as bowstrings, but instead cast his unfathomable dragon eyes out the window.

At this moment, the sun was already setting in the west, and the sunset on the horizon had been burned into a thick, indistinguishable blood-red color.

The light shone through the carved window lattice, casting a startling dark red hue onto the gleaming gold bricks.

The setting sun was like blood, the landscape like a painting, yet it also resembled a tragic scroll about to burn out, so beautiful it made one's heart tremble.

(End of this chapter)