The Ming Dynasty: Starting with Emperor Chongzhen's crackdown on factionalism

Yuan Chonghuan stared at him, his chest still heaving.

Chen Zhiyuan took a step closer and lowered his voice.

"I know you didn't betray your country. You really fought in the battle of Guangqumen, and you almost died."

"I have no doubt about that."

Yuan Chonghuan was stunned; he hadn't expected Chen Zhiyuan to say that.

"But I want you to understand," Chen Zhiyuan continued.

"The most important thing right now is not resisting the Jin."

Yuan Chonghuan frowned.

"What is it?"

He asked, his voice filled with confusion.

"This wasteful system of military spending by the imperial court must be broken."

Chen Zhiyuan spoke slowly, making sure that every word could be heard clearly.

"Of the 4.2 million taels of silver, only 1.5 million taels reached the soldiers. Where did the remaining 2.7 million taels go?"

Yuan Chonghuan remained silent.

"You said you had no choice, that there was a formidable enemy at hand, and that you couldn't afford to offend anyone." Chen Zhiyuan shook his head.

"But have you thought about it? How many people does the Later Jin have? At most, they only have about 100,000 soldiers."

"And what about my Great Ming? We have nine strategically important border towns, with over a million soldiers registered in our garrisons, but how many are actually capable of fighting?"

"Why can't we beat them?"

He paused, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"It's not because the Jurchens are so powerful, it's because our money is not being used effectively."

"It was all embezzled, stripped away, and divided up layer by layer."

Yuan Chonghuan's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back.

"Commander Yuan," Chen Zhiyuan said, looking at him with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"If you are truly loyal to the emperor and love your country, you should know how important this matter is. It is more important than winning a hundred battles at Guangqumen."

The cell was eerily quiet.

Yuan Chonghuan lowered his head, looking at the shackles on his feet. The shackles were very old, their edges worn smooth and shiny.

"You..." he finally spoke, his voice hoarse.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell the truth," Chen Zhiyuan said.

"Whose hands does the military budget pass through after it comes from the Ministry of War? How much is deducted at each stage? Who set the rules? Who acts as the middleman?"

"The canal transport authorities, the prefectures and counties along the route, the escorting officials... I want you to write down all of these people's names, official titles, and how the accounts were divided."

Yuan Chonghuan raised his head, a hint of fear flashing in his eyes.

"Are you crazy?" he whispered.

"How many people are involved? Do you know what the consequences will be if you touch them?"

"I know."

Chen Zhiyuan said calmly.

He took another step forward.

"You say that with a formidable enemy at hand, you have no energy to deal with trivial matters. Fine, then let me ask you," Chen Zhiyuan said in a loud voice.

"If these 'minor matters' are the real culprits that hollow out the foundation of the Ming Dynasty and cause the soldiers on the front lines to bleed and weep, are your so-called 'considering the overall situation' and 'being unable to get entangled' protecting the country or harming it?"

"Is this resisting the Jin, or is it condoning those parasites even more terrifying than the Later Jin, slowly eroding the foundation of the Ming Dynasty?"

Yuan Chonghuan's lips were pressed into a straight line, and the muscles on his face twitched slightly.

He wanted to refute, to say that Chen Zhiyuan simply did not understand the difficulties of the border, the helplessness of the commander, or that in such a position, there were some things that could only be compromised or ignored, otherwise it would be impossible to move forward.

But these words, once they reached the tip of my tongue, felt inexplicably heavy, and I couldn't bring myself to utter them.

"If you are truly loyal to the emperor and love your country,"

Chen Zhiyuan's voice softened, but became deeper, carrying a penetrating power.

"You should know that breaking down this exploitative, wasteful, and exploitative military spending system is a hundred times, a thousand times more important than killing a few more Tartars on the battlefield!"

He looked directly into Yuan Chonghuan's eyes, which began to flicker and dodge.

"I believe that even if the Ming Dynasty were to fall one day, it would not be simply because it fell under the iron hooves of the Later Jin."

"It will perish first from within, succumbing to the quagmire of deception from superiors and subordinates, rampant corruption, and the complete loss of popular and military morale!"

"We both know perfectly well that we're doomed, yet neither of us dares or wants to truly confront this mess!"

The cell was deathly silent.

He did not answer.

Is this the default?

Is it because they are powerless to refute it?

Or was it this overly sharp and realistic accusation that pierced a corner of my heart that I had always avoided?

Looking at his silence, Chen Zhiyuan suddenly let out a low, extremely sarcastic laugh.

"Oh."

The laugh was short, cold, and particularly jarring in the silence.

"It seems that this matter is more serious and more difficult for you to talk about than admitting that you 'colluded with the enemy and betrayed the country'."

Chen Zhiyuan slowly stood up, patted off non-existent dust from his scarlet official robe, his movements carrying a deliberately slowed elegance that seemed out of place in this filthy prison.

"Don't you think this is ironic, Governor Yuan?"

He stopped looking at Yuan Chonghuan and turned to walk out of the prison gate.

"A general might be imprisoned and executed by slow slicing on suspicion of 'colluding with the enemy,' sparking heated debates throughout the court and meticulous writing in the history books."

"And this deeply ingrained corruption that is almost universally known and has eroded the foundation of the country has made everyone, including important officials like you, choose to remain silent, turn a blind eye, and even become part of it."

He stopped at the door, turned half his face to the side, and the shadow outlined his young yet cold features.

"Think about it yourself."

After saying that, he opened the cell door and walked out.

The heavy iron gate slammed shut behind him with a dull thud, locking Yuan Chonghuan and the suffocating silence back into the darkness.

Chen Zhiyuan walked hurriedly through the passageway.

The calmness and sharpness he displayed in prison had now transformed into a barely perceptible hint of anxiety between his brows.

Emperor Chongzhen's patience was something he dared not gamble on.

Cao Yubian's impeachment memorial has probably already been submitted by now.

Those whose interests have been threatened by him will only retaliate more fiercely.

Zhu Youjian may have admired his sharpness for a moment and was willing to use him as a tool to cut open the festering sore of the Yuan case, but the emperor's trust was always as thin as a cicada's wing, especially when it involved a backlash from the entire bureaucratic system.

He must do it as soon as possible.

Before the emperor wavers and before the wave of opposition completely overwhelms him, he must produce something more substantial, not just questioning Yuan Chonghuan, but also exposing the corrupt system, even if it's just the tip of the iceberg.

He needed a method, one that would allow Zhu Youjian to see the situation clearly without causing trouble for himself too quickly.

Qianqing Palace.

Zhu Youjian gripped a memorial tightly, his fingers digging into it until his knuckles turned slightly white.

It belongs to Cao Yu Bian.

The Left Censor-in-Chief's writing style was as seasoned and steady as ever, without much anger, yet every word carried immense weight.

In his memorial, Cao Yubian did not directly deny Chen Zhiyuan's work in reviewing the memorial; he even acknowledged that Chen had put in "great effort" and "analyzed things meticulously."

However, he then shifted his focus, pointing out that Chen Zhiyuan was "young and impetuous, and inexperienced in worldly affairs." He argued that Chen's methods of investigation "relyed entirely on the rules and regulations of criminal cases and hearsay reports," which was actually "putting the cart before the horse" and undermining the foundation of the censorate.

What's even more impressive are the following sentences.

Cao Yubian wrote that Chen Zhiyuan's move, seemingly to clarify the Yuan case, actually placed the three judicial departments and all the officials in the court under scrutiny, causing "public opinion to boil over and people to be bewildered."

Not only did it fail to stabilize the court, it also added to the turmoil.

Moreover, he wields the imperial sword and acts arbitrarily, already showing signs of "abusing his power and authority." If this continues, it may not be a blessing for the court.

Finally, Cao Yubian used a strategy of retreat to advance, claiming that he was "old and senile, and unfit for the position of Chief Censor," and requested to be dismissed in order to quell the controversy caused by Chen Zhiyuan and preserve the dignity of the Censorate.

This is not a simple impeachment; it is a strategic retreat to force the emperor to abdicate.

Zhu Youjian closed his eyes, his temples throbbing.

"Chen Zhiyuan... Chen Zhiyuan..."

Zhu Youjian murmured the name, his mind a jumbled mess.