Chapter 15: Short on Money? Then Let’s Abolish the Relay Stations!

The morning court assembly began.

The first voice to arise was that of a remonstrating official, urging Emperor Zhu Youjian to be more diligent and not to indulge daily in the inner court, neglecting state affairs.

Then another official stepped forward, reporting that he had heard of His Majesty’s training of the palace guards within the inner court. However, this practice was deemed a “wasteful drain on funds and a source of needless disturbance.” He hoped the Emperor would promptly cease such actions that were detrimental to the people.

After the initial criticisms, Grand Secretary Huang Li solemnly took the floor. Speaking from the perspective of doing all for the good of the Ming dynasty, he earnestly advised the Emperor to disband the inner guards without delay.

Yet Zhu Youjian did not even raise an eyelid in response to these sharp memorials.

The officials seemed merely to be testing the waters. Seeing the Emperor’s indifference, the topic shifted.

Next came a series of reports on disasters afflicting various regions of the Ming realm.

There was the drought in Shaanxi, with urgent requests for funds from the Ministry of Revenue for relief efforts. This appeal had been made in a previous court session, urging the Emperor to decide swiftly, for every day’s delay meant more suffering for the people of Shaanxi.

The official reporting was a native of Shaanxi. His memorial was delivered with tears and heartfelt sorrow, as if the plight of his compatriots weighed upon him more heavily than any personal loss.

Zhu Youjian glanced at him once, committing his name to memory, intent on scrutinizing him once his current affairs were settled.

If even a tenth of the relief silver sent by the court reached the people, how could there be starvation?

Then came the report on the Liaodong front.

Some soldiers had gone months without pay, and continued neglect threatened to spark rebellion.

Following that, there were accounts of Japanese pirate incursions along Jiangsu and Zhejiang.

All the memorials, in the end, circled back to one issue—silver.

Zhu Youjian remained expressionless on the dragon throne.

He granted no approvals for any funding requests, maintaining a stance of “to be discussed later.”

The silver borrowed from one faction only ended up lining the pockets of another.

Relief efforts must be personally overseen by him to be truly effective.

At this moment, Minister of Revenue Guo Yunhou stepped forward, his face grave.

Even if the Emperor consented to the funding requests, where would the silver come from?

Facing the assembly, he declared loudly: “Currently, the Ministry of Revenue is burdened with a deficit of several million taels. We are truly powerless to fulfill the allocation requests presented.”

“Nonetheless, disaster relief is the responsibility of the Ministry. We cannot shirk it. We must first address the most urgent among these memorials.”

“In my humble opinion, the most pressing matter is the drought in northern Shaanxi. I have heard that since last year, not a drop of rain has fallen in the regions of Yan’an and Xi’an prefectures.”

“Among the people, there are already reports of children being sold. If delayed further, a popular uprising may arise.”

“The Ministry can muster 150,000 taels of silver. We propose appointing an official from our Ministry, an imperial censor from the Supervisory Censorate, and a eunuch from the inner court to oversee the distribution.”

“Under this tripartite supervision, special agents will be dispatched to Shaanxi to procure grain for relief. This may effectively curb corruption in the relief funds.”

“But this measure is merely a drop in the bucket. Should the drought persist, the Ministry cannot indefinitely scrape together funds for relief.”

At these words, the Shaanxi official’s face darkened instantly.

Damn it! He was accusing him outright of embezzlement!

Guo Yunhou paid no heed and instead bowed respectfully toward the Emperor.

Hearing the relief proposals, Zhu Youjian cast a longer glance at Guo Yunhou. He had reviewed his record in recent days.

Rising from a county magistrate’s post, Guo was roughly the type of official who sought to enrich himself but also accomplished some genuine work.

Zhu Youjian was well aware that ideal governments and officials exist only in ideals.

Comparatively, Guo was still a usable man in the current court.

But his usefulness was limited to the near future.

Under the present circumstances, no conciliatory approach could save either the people or the Ming dynasty.

A drastic remedy was needed for Shaanxi.

So Zhu Youjian merely said, calmly, “To be discussed later.”

Seeing the Emperor’s decree, Guo felt no disappointment.

He understood that His Majesty was not truly neglecting governance, merely holding back his words.

Perhaps, after some days of reflection, the Emperor would agree to his proposal.

After Zhu Youjian’s “to be discussed later,” the officials began to debate among themselves.

Such was the nature of the court.

There was struggle, compromise, empty talk, frank counsel, personal interests, and naturally, matters of state.

Some said the Shaanxi governor was incompetent and should be replaced with a more capable man.

Others claimed it was divine punishment and that only the Emperor’s prayers could alleviate the drought.

As the discussion unfolded, a clever official from the Ministry of War stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, I have a plan which, if properly executed, could replenish the treasury and greatly ease the Ministry of Revenue’s fiscal deficit.”

He then spoke confidently before the court:

“Currently, our Ming relay station system consumes over two million taels of silver annually, but is bloated with redundant personnel. Many ruffians and vagabonds have attached themselves to the stations.”

“Because of these men, urgent border dispatches are often delayed. If half of these rogue elements were dismissed, the efficiency of document transmission would greatly improve.”

“Furthermore, reducing the number of horses and relay station lodges accordingly would save the Ming over a million taels each year.”

“Such measures would surely relieve our fiscal crisis!”

Zhu Youjian: ?

Do you not value your ancestral lineage to suggest this?

Or are you a Jin spy sent to sabotage us?

The Emperor’s strong reaction was understandable.

In Zhu Youjian’s view, the disaster in Shaanxi, once he had time to address it, was not so difficult to solve.

But actual dismissal of relay station personnel, under the current domestic turmoil at the dynasty’s end, would likely trigger a cascade of repercussions, directly shaking the foundation of the realm.

Zhu Youjian glanced at the Ministry of War official who had spoken.

Many officials in the court looked at him as if he were a fool.

Yet some appeared to agree with the proposal, stroking their beards and nodding thoughtfully.

Zhu Youjian mentally noted those who showed approval and nodded in satisfaction.

From this perspective, today’s suggestion was not without merit.

At least it provided a roster of names to cull later, saving some trouble.

Those useless and harmful to the empire cannot be allowed to remain alive.