Late Ming Dynasty: So what if Emperor Chongzhen was inactive?!

Chapter 125 Mao Wenlong: I don't know if the emperor will marry a widow. Why don't we have our son-in-law launch a night raid on the Plain Yellow Banner camp?

Moldy grains can be dried and used as fish bait or to make incense sticks, but these methods don't consume a large quantity.

Of the surplus grain, some was moldy, some sprouted, some was old rice that had been stored for many years, and some had even turned into sand and gravel. In the end, out of two million shi (a unit of dry measure), only half a million shi of old rice was edible.

In an era when people were generally hungry and there was a constant shortage of food, the existence of something like stale rice was absurd.

Moldy grain can only be used for composting, because eating it would poison people; feeding it to livestock would make them sick and bloated. Humans are superior to animals in their resistance to toxins, with Emperor Daojun of the Ming Dynasty being a prime example.

Cao Huachun took some of the sprouted grain to feed his warhorses, while Zhu Youjian had the rest made into maltose and rice candy.

"Southern grain transported to the north, northern goods returned to the south"—the Grand Canal project could be profitable if done well. Unfortunately, the imperial court spent as much as two million taels of silver annually on the Grand Canal, but could only collect 80,000 taels of commercial tax at the Linqing Customs.

The cost of transporting grain by canal was 0.3 taels of silver per shi (a unit of dry measure), while the cost by sea could be reduced to one-third of that. In the Ming Dynasty, the debate between canal and sea transport had a long history. Due to the need for security and stability, the imperial court ultimately chose the more expensive canal transport.

Maltose is sweeter and crystallizes more easily. It is solid at room temperature and was often made into candy and sold directly in ancient times. Rice maltose is not as sweet and is liquid at room temperature. It is mostly used as a filling for pastries.

Fifty thousand shi of grain produced one hundred thousand jin of maltose. Zhu Youjian made so much maltose not because he liked sweets, nor to make money.

From July to August, the Forbidden City is shrouded in mist, resembling a fairyland, and the aroma of steamed rice and wheat wafts all the way to the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

The ministers were curious, even suspecting that the emperor had picked up another bad habit and was practicing alchemy in the palace. However, the emperor seemed to dislike monks and Taoists, showing no mercy when levying taxes, much to the dismay of the monks and Taoists. Finally, on the Mid-Autumn Festival, the mystery was revealed.

On the Mid-Autumn Festival, August 15th, the emperor did not hold a banquet. The morning court session was quickly reviewed, mainly focusing on reports on the autumn harvest in various regions. In an agrarian society, there is rarely a time of leisure for farmers throughout the year, and the same is true for the imperial court. Except for a little less work at the end and beginning of the year, there is no rest from the summer harvest in April and May until the autumn tax collection at the end of the year.

More than a year after his ascension to the throne, amidst the ups and downs, although Zhu Youjian still couldn't remember all the names of his hundreds of court officials, they had all become familiar faces. Loyal ministers or villains, after spending so much time together, they had all developed some affection for each other. They were all colleagues, just with different roles, and everyone had a bright future ahead of them.

"Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, a time for family reunions. I won't keep you any longer. The palace has made some mooncakes; each of you can take one when you return," Zhu Youjian said gently.

Upon hearing this, the courtiers were briefly silent, then their robes rustled as they all bowed in salute.

Bi Ziyan stepped forward and said loudly, "Thank you for your generous gift, Your Majesty! We dare not fail to repay your kindness with our lives!"

The courtiers echoed, "We obey the decree and thank Your Majesty!"

Officials carried paper packages tied with straw ropes out of the palace gates. The sunlight slanted across the vermilion palace walls, casting long, thin shadows on them.

Someone whispered to a colleague, "His Majesty's tone was gentle today, which is rare." Another sighed, "But this mooncake will probably be hard to swallow." It was common for emperors to bribe their officials, but it was usually not very effective. As the saying goes, "Small favors are not enough to win over the people."

Zhu Youjian's distribution of mooncakes to his ministers was just a side effect; they weren't lacking in food. In reality, the palace made over a million small mooncakes, which were mainly distributed to soldiers in the Beijing garrison, the Beizhili garrison, and the border troops.

Zhu Youjian didn't expect people to risk their lives for him over a single mooncake, but showing the soldiers some care from time to time could strengthen their sense of national identity, right? It's better than constantly calling them traitors and convicts, isn't it?

Human hearts are made of flesh and blood, and it doesn't cost much. The cost of a small mooncake is only a few coins, and a million of them would only cost a few thousand taels of silver. It's a bargain without being expensive.

At the mouth of the Yalu River, a Ming Dynasty fleet sailed against the current with the sides of their ships. The southeast sea winds of August blew from the stern, deforming the horizontally mounted rigid sails. "The sailors know the geography, and at night they observe the stars." The fleet set sail from Dengzhou and Laizhou, and after two days and one night of sailing, they finally saw the outline of Pi Island.

Nearly seventy-year-old Yuan Keli, the Liaodong military commissioner, stood at the bow of the ship, the sea breeze ruffling his graying temples. The old man held a mooncake the size of a child's palm in his hand, took a bite, squinted his eyes, and looked on with a look of pure enjoyment.

This mooncake is the product of His Majesty's ingenious idea. I have never seen one before. It is filled with molten malt sugar, small in size, with a thin crust and a generous filling. You can eat it one bite at a time, just like him, and savor it slowly.

"If the skin is gone, where will the hair attach?" Mao Wenlong renamed the island, and that is the origin of Pi Island.

After the lookout post on Pi Island spotted the arrival of ships flying the Ming Dynasty flag, they routinely went out to port to verify the ships' identities and escort them back into port. Although the Jurchens didn't have a decent navy, they couldn't rule out the possibility that it was a Korean navy that had surrendered to the Jurchens in disguise, so it was always better to be cautious.

Hearing that the supply ship had arrived, Mao Wenlong was overjoyed and jumped on his horse to come over. However, when he saw Yuan Keli, his face fell. With a mournful expression, he ordered his men, "Send more sentries and strengthen patrols tonight."

Yuan Keli said with a smile, "I came here on a whim this time without informing anyone beforehand. I crossed the sea from Dengzhou and Laizhou, traveling two hundred li a day. No one can outrun me, so the news could not have leaked to the Jurchens."

"What are you doing here again?!" Mao Wenlong said rudely, not bothering to listen to his explanation.

Last time, Yuan Keli tricked him, and he lost more than half of his troops in Jiangdong Town, which was a huge blow to his strength. He hasn't recovered yet. If it happens a few more times, how can he bear it?
"Of course I'm here to escort the money and provisions, to urge you to distribute them and see if you've embezzled any of the military pay," Yuan Keli said half-jokingly.

"What are you saying? I am the dignified Earl of Dongjiang in the Great Ming Dynasty, with a salary of 1,200 shi of grain. Would I embezzle such a small amount of money?!" Mao Wenlong was furious.

"Alright, I already know your name, Earl of Dongjiang, so there's no need to keep mentioning it. I'm already overwhelmed by all the official documents and letters you've sent," Yuan Keli said with a sneer.

"Hmph, you don't!" Mao Wenlong grinned.

"The emperor took my granddaughter as a concubine and bestowed upon her the title of imperial consort. Do you have that?!"

"Me!" Mao Wenlong was speechless. He did have a granddaughter, but she was still playing in the mud. He also had a daughter, but she was married. Ahhh, he wondered if the emperor would marry a widow. Maybe he should order his son-in-law to launch a night raid on the Plain Yellow Banner camp?
(End of this chapter)