Chapter 34: Cut the Damn Chatter—You’re on the List!

As these words were spoken, a sharp, piercing glint ignited in the eyes of everyone in the room.

Grand Secretary Shi Fenglai was the first to speak, asking, "Do we know the destination of the Emperor's imperial tour?"

The official who had spoken earlier let out a cold snort. "The Emperor’s divine will is unfathomable. We didn't even receive a hint of news about him leaving the palace, let alone his plans for an imperial tour."

At this, an official from Fujian spoke up: "Though we cannot determine the destination, we can glean clues from the Emperor's recent actions and the state of court affairs."

As he said this, the others turned their gazes toward him, their expressions calm. After taking a sip of fine tea from Jiangnan, the man continued unhurriedly: "The national treasury is empty and the government is in crisis. Since taking the throne, the Emperor has confiscated the assets of many families."

"The silver seized by the Embroidered Uniform Guard alone amounts to two or three million taels."

"But frankly, this silver isn't even enough to cover the military pay owed in Liaodong, let alone the deficits in other provinces."

"Yet, while the Emperor possesses thunderous methods, he cannot rely on such means to replenish the treasury forever. Therefore, I suspect... the ultimate destination of the Emperor's tour is most likely the Jiangnan region or the southeast coast."

Having said this, the official stopped and returned to his tea. The others immediately grasped the implication. Constant confiscations were not a sustainable solution; to resolve the fiscal crisis fundamentally, one needed a healthy tax base. And there was no region in the Great Ming more prosperous or capable of providing such revenue than Jiangnan and the southeast coast.

Under this hypothesis, the Emperor’s recent maneuvers—training the palace guards, seizing control of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and raiding homes for silver—all seemed to have a logical explanation. His goal was to reform the tax system in the south.

But was the tax revenue of Jiangnan something an Emperor who had been on the throne for barely a month could simply touch? Did he not realize that even the Founding Emperor and the Yongle Emperor dared not push the local powers there too far?

Shi Fenglai was the first to declare his stance: "In that case, I shall write a letter to my family tomorrow and have a trusted subordinate ride posthaste to my home in Zhejiang."

The other officials nodded in agreement. "We shall do the same."

Although no one stated it explicitly, the meaning could not have been clearer. If the Emperor dared to come, he would never return. A fall into the water or a sudden fire—there was always a way for the Son of Heaven to meet his end. Did he truly believe eight hundred personal guards were enough to make him invincible?

Truth be told, they did not want to take things to such an extreme. If the Emperor merely caused trouble within the capital, they would accept even the execution of a hundred officials a day. After all, killing an emperor was not something one could achieve with mere words; it required a heavy price. Moreover, historical records would inevitably leave behind traces that would invite endless speculation from future generations.

But an imperial tour to the south was fundamentally different from ordinary power struggles. It did not just affect a single Grand Secretary, a high-ranking official, or a century-old noble clan—it threatened the entire class. Class struggle has always been a matter of life and death.

Are we to surrender all the wealth and power we have painstakingly accumulated through generations of [sweat and effort] simply because you are the so-called Emperor of the Great Ming? Dream on!

For a moment, the officials from the south looked at one another and nodded with perfect consensus.

However, the Senior Grand Secretary, Huang Liji, did not join them. He glanced at another cabinet member, Li Guopu, and slowly shook his head. "I fear things are not as simple as you suggest."

The official from Fujian looked at Huang Liji and said sarcastically, "Oh? And what is the Senior Grand Secretary’s profound insight? Do enlighten us."

Cooperation and sarcasm were not mutually exclusive.

Huang Liji spoke calmly: "With the Emperor's shrewdness, how could he not have foreseen what you have just discussed?"

"Furthermore, Jiangnan is over a thousand miles from the capital. I doubt the Emperor would take such a great risk."

The official interrupted, "Are you saying the Emperor would not seek the far while neglecting the near?"

Huang Liji and Li Guopu exchanged a glance. Both were from noble families in Hebei. Geographically, Hebei was much closer to the capital; the Emperor would likely strike closer to home first. While Hebei was far less wealthy than Jiangnan, it was safer and more efficient. By comparison, Hebei seemed the optimal choice for the imperial tour.

The officials from the south did not take the bait. Their attitude was clear: this was a matter for the northerners, and they would neither help nor hinder.

Huang Liji and Li Guopu were not displeased. Since they had anticipated the Emperor might come, they would simply make their own preparations in advance. As the discussion regarding the potential tour concluded, the elders finally found the appetite to eat. The atmosphere in the room grew significantly lighter. As for other provinces the Emperor might visit, they did not even bother to consider them.

Shaanxi, Gansu, Shanxi, Liaodong... from the perspective of those in power, there was no reason to visit such perilous regions that offered no spoils.

...

While the various parties were racking their brains to guess the Emperor's intentions, the Embroidered Uniform Guard was quietly making arrests.

"My lord! I am innocent! I have never committed any illegal or disgraceful acts!"

"Cut the crap, your name is on the list!"

This was followed by a barrage of kicks and punches—the standard procedure for the Embroidered Uniform Guard. As for resistance? If this had happened in the past, and these low-ranking officers had been sent to make arrests, they might have been the ones getting beaten.

But now, the majesty of imperial power had taken deep root in the hearts of the people. Rumors spread through the streets that the new Emperor was bloodthirsty, and that if he didn't sleep well, he would drag hundreds of people out just to kill them for sport. Coupled with the flying-fish robes and embroidered spring blades that symbolized the Emperor's authority, who would be foolish enough to resist?

Moreover, these local thugs and bullies understood that this was merely the "three fires" of a new official taking office. They figured that if they took the beating and paid some bribes later, they would be back to their old ways in no time. If they actually resisted, wouldn't they be branded as rebels? Thus, a single squad of the Embroidered Uniform Guard could often haul in dozens of prisoners at once.

However, among the many to be arrested, there were bound to be a few tougher nuts to crack. Take, for instance, the manager of a pawnshop. This shop dealt in usury and also ran gambling dens. Over the years, they had driven countless families to ruin. Naturally, someone who dared to run such a business had a powerful figure backing them.

So, when the Embroidered Uniform Guard stormed in to make the arrest, the manager, sporting a handlebar mustache, merely laughed unhurriedly: "My lords, I only run a business lending silver to the people. Is there really a need to make such a scene?"

"Besides, if you disturb the Marquis over this matter, I fear it will be difficult for you to clean up the mess later."