Sky Curtain: The opening scene explains the four major cases of the Ming Dynasty plus the early Ming

Fifteen minutes later, Zhu Dijun pushed open the door to the live stream room, where the chat section was already in an uproar.

The crux of the debate is whether Zhang Juzheng was corrupt or not. One group insists that Zhang Juzheng was a renowned prime minister and a hero of reform, and that confiscating his property was an act of ingratitude. The other group presents a list of confiscated items, claiming that finding tens of thousands of taels of silver, tens of thousands of taels of gold, and countless pearls and gems in the home of a prime minister—is that what makes him an honest official?

Zhu Dijun sat down and unscrewed the marker.

"Family members, you're back. I glanced at the comments during my break just now, and two groups were arguing quite heatedly. Perfect timing, let's talk about that this time—Zhang Juzheng's confiscation of property."

A line of text was written on the whiteboard: "Zhang Juzheng died in the tenth year of the Wanli reign, and his home was confiscated in the twelfth year of the Wanli reign."

"On June 20th of the tenth year of the Wanli reign, Zhang Juzheng passed away at the age of fifty-eight. He was posthumously awarded the title of Shangzhuguo and the posthumous name Wenzhong. Sounds impressive, right? Two years later, in April of the twelfth year of the Wanli reign, his home was confiscated."

Zhu Dijun drew up a timeline on the whiteboard.

"From posthumous honors to the confiscation of their property and the extermination of their entire family, only one year and ten months passed. What happened in between?"

He pulled up a file.

"In the eleventh year of the Wanli reign, Censor Lei Shizhen impeached Zhang Juzheng for fourteen major crimes. In the same year, Li Lai, the governor of Huguang, was ordered to search and confiscate Zhang's residence. Before the search, local officials in Jingzhou sealed the gates of Zhang's residence, forbidding anyone from entering or leaving. When the imperial envoy arrived, the gates were opened—"

Zhu Dijun paused for a moment.

"More than a dozen people in the Zhang family have starved to death. Zhang Juzheng's eldest son, Zhang Jingxiu, was severely tortured and hanged himself. His second son, Zhang Maoxiu, attempted suicide by jumping into a well but survived and was exiled to the frontier. His third son, Zhang Jingxiu, was sent to the army. His brothers, Zhang Juqian and Zhang Juqian, and his nephews, Zhang Shouqian and Zhang Maoxiu, were either dead or exiled."

The comment section was silent for two seconds.

"Where's the stuff you copied?"

Zhu Dijun pulled up the list.

"More than 2,400 taels of gold, more than 107,700 taels of silver, more than 3,710 taels of goldware, more than 13,000 taels of silverware, and a quantity of pearls and gemstones. In addition, there are antiques, calligraphy and paintings, python robes and silks, and 800 hectares of farmland. The total amount is approximately 200,000 taels of silver."

He drew a line under "two hundred thousand taels".

"Two hundred thousand taels. Do you all remember what I said earlier? Taicang's total annual income was two million and one hundred thousand taels. Zhang Juzheng's family wealth was equivalent to one-tenth of Taicang's annual income. A Grand Secretary, serving for ten years, accumulated this much."

Zhu Dijun walked in front of the camera.

"Some say this isn't much. Compared to Yan Song, whose property was confiscated and yielded over 30,000 taels of gold and 2 million taels of silver, Zhang Juzheng only had 200,000 taels—a drop in the ocean. Others say that Zhang Juzheng's wealth mainly came from imperial rewards and his legitimate salary, so it doesn't count as corruption."

He shook his head.

"That's not how you do it."

A comparison table was drawn on the whiteboard.

"Yan Song served as Grand Secretary for fifteen years, during which time two million taels of silver were confiscated, averaging 130,000 taels per year. Zhang Juzheng served as Grand Secretary for ten years, during which time two hundred thousand taels of silver were confiscated, averaging 20,000 taels per year. The figures differ by more than six times, but there is a crucial variable—Yan Song's silver mostly came from selling official positions and reselling salt permits, which was direct corruption. Where did Zhang Juzheng's silver come from?"

Zhu Dijun wrote three sources on the whiteboard.

"First, imperial rewards. Around the Wanli era, Zhang Juzheng was rewarded with gold, silver, a python robe, and silk, totaling approximately 50,000 taels of silver. This money was legal. Second, accumulated salary. The Grand Secretary's annual salary plus various allowances accumulated to approximately 20,000 taels over ten years. This was also legal. Third, the remaining 130,000 taels—where did they come from?"

He tapped the whiteboard.

"That's the problem. Zhang Juzheng's family and students have never given a reasonable explanation for the discrepancy of 130,000 taels of silver. When his house was searched, Zhang Jingxiu said in his confession that 'it was all gifts from various officials.' Gifts from various officials? Which officials? What were the gifts for? How much were they? It's a complete mess."

Zhu Dijun walked to the screen and pulled up a list of officials.

"I checked and found that from the sixth year of the Longqing reign to the tenth year of the Wanli reign, there were at least 27 verifiable local governors, salt commissioners, and imperial censors who had clear interests with Zhang Juzheng. Most of these people were later purged, and their crimes all included 'gifting gifts to the Grand Secretary'."

He put down the tablet.

"So, did Zhang Juzheng embezzle? My judgment is—he did. But his embezzlement was different from Yan Song's. Yan Song actively solicited bribes and openly set prices. Zhang Juzheng passively accepted them and kept it a secret. The difference is that Yan Song treated corruption as a business, while Zhang Juzheng used corruption as a political lubricant."

Someone in the comment section chimed in:

So, there are different levels and categories of corruption now?

"Don't rush to argue."

Zhu Dijun waved his hand.

"I'm not trying to whitewash Zhang Juzheng. I'm saying that his corruption had a specific political logic."

He wrote three points on the whiteboard.

"First, the cost of maintaining the alliance between the palace and the government. As mentioned before, Zhang Juzheng gave gifts to Feng Bao. Where did this money come from? It wouldn't come from his salary, but only from 'gifts from various officials.' In other words, a portion of the money that local officials gave to Zhang Juzheng ended up in Feng Bao's pocket. Zhang Juzheng was a middleman, making a profit from the difference."

"Second, the implementation cost of the performance evaluation system. The performance evaluation system required local officials to meet targets for revenue and security. If they failed, they would be dismissed. In order to keep their positions, local officials had to bribe their superiors. These 'superiors' were Zhang Juzheng's network of confidants. Zhang Juzheng himself may not have directly accepted money, but his protégés and confidants did. Just because he didn't accept it doesn't mean that his circle didn't."

"Third, the distribution of benefits from the reform itself. When the Single Whip Law was used to survey land, whose land was seized? The land of the big landowners. What did the big landowners do when they were unwilling to accept this? They bribed Zhang Juzheng's people to obtain 'lenient land surveys.' Where did this money ultimately go? In Zhang Juzheng's treasury."

Zhu Dijun wiped the whiteboard clean and wrote a line of large characters: "Who will pay the price of reform?"

"The Single Whip Law. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? From a systemic perspective, it's a good thing. The direction is correct: taxes are converted into silver, corvée labor is merged, and land is surveyed. But what about its implementation?"

He pulled up a set of data.

"In the sixth year of the Wanli reign, a nationwide land survey was conducted. Huguang was Zhang Juzheng's hometown. The survey results showed that Huguang had added 70 million mu of farmland. Sounds impressive, right? Let's look at the details. Of the newly added farmland, how much came from large landowners? Less than 20%. The remaining 80% came from self-cultivating farmers and small landowners."

Zhu Dijun pointed to the data.

"Large landowners bribed Zhang Juzheng's people, resulting in lenient land surveys and even shifting the burden of land levies onto ordinary people. Since ordinary people had no money to bribe, their land was surveyed meticulously, and they were required to pay every penny of tax they owed. In effect, the cost of reform fell entirely on the shoulders of the common people."

Someone started swearing in the comments section.

Good heavens, in the end, reforms only make the poor poorer and the rich richer.

This is the same pattern as some modern 'reforms'.

Zhu Dijun didn't respond and continued pushing forward.

"Let's talk about converting taxes into silver. The Single Whip Law required all taxes to be converted into silver and paid in grain. What did the common people have? Copper coins and grain. Who held the silver? The gentry of Jiangnan, the merchants at sea, and the money shops. If the common people wanted to pay taxes, they had to sell their grain to get copper coins, and then use the copper coins to get silver."

He drew three steps of the breakage on the whiteboard.

"The first step is to sell grain. In years of bumper harvest, grain prices are low; ten bushels of grain can't even be exchanged for one tael of silver. The second step is to exchange it for silver. The money shops run by local gentry lose 30% of their copper coins when exchanging them for silver. The third step is to pay taxes. When the government collects silver, there is also a 20% loss due to the melting and casting of silver."

"If ten bushels of grain are sent out, it's lucky if one or two taels of silver reaches the Taicang granary. They've been fleeced three times in between. Who profits? The money shop owners, the tax officials, and the grain merchants. Who are these people? The gentry, the officials, and those who have close ties to Zhang Juzheng's reform network."

Zhu Dijun put down his pen and walked in front of the camera.

"So do you all understand? Zhang Juzheng's reforms had no problems in their institutional design. But the people who implemented these systems were the vested interest groups themselves. They wielded the knife of reform, but they weren't cutting into their own interests; they were cutting into the very marrow of the common people."

He leaned against the podium.

Did Zhang Juzheng know? He did. But he couldn't control it. His power base was this group of people. If you don't give them benefits, who will promote reforms for you? If you don't leave them a share of the profits, who will suppress dissenting voices for you?

Zhu Dijun picked up his thermos and took a sip of tea.

"This is the truth about the Wanli New Deal. The national treasury was full, the border defenses were secure, and the silver in Taicang was piled up like mountains. But where did the silver come from? It was squeezed from the marrow of the people. Where did the silver go? It was used to build the Great Wall, support the border troops, pay the salaries of officials in the capital—and it also flowed into the pockets of Zhang Juzheng and his network of interests."

He wrote the last line on the whiteboard: "Imperial Code: Reform is Spoils Distribution".

"The confiscation of property in the twelfth year of the Wanli reign (1584) did not only uncover 200,000 taels of silver. It revealed the operating code of an empire—all reforms, in essence, are a redistribution of interests. Whoever controls the distribution controls the empire. Zhang Juzheng held power for ten years, and then was purged by his students in the same way."

Zhu Dijun threw the pen on the table.

"History is sometimes just that ridiculous."