Ming Dynasty 1627

Chapter 153 Though a trickle may be few, it can gradually become a river; though a tiny flame may be small, it can eventually start a raging fire.

The sky is dimly bright.

In a courtyard inside Xuanwu Gate, Sun Chuanting was squatting in front of a vegetable patch, his brows slightly furrowed.

He was tall and strong, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, and looked more like a military general than a scholar.

At this moment, however, this skilled fifth-rank official in the Ministry of Personnel was stumped by a few tender green spinach seedlings in front of him.

The seeds sown a few days ago have already sprouted, but...

Something doesn't feel right.

It's just too dense.

Clumps and clusters, almost huddled together, their tender green leaves close together, look exceptionally lovely.

But the spinach fields he had seen before didn't look like this...

The Sun family wasn't considered a prominent family in Daizhou, but they were still a small local power.

His hereditary position as a centurion of the garrison allowed him to devote himself to studying archery, horsemanship, and the classics.

He had indeed only seen such things before, but had never done them himself.

"Master, why are you fiddling with these seedlings again?" His servant got up early and carried back a bucket of sweet water. "Leave this rough work to me. You are the God of Literature in the heavens; handling writing and calligraphy is your proper business."

Sun Chuanting shook his head, stood up, patted the loose soil off his hands, but his gaze remained fixed on the vegetable patch.

"I'm going to my shift now," he instructed in a deep voice. "Later, find an experienced farmer to take a look at the spinach seedlings and ask if there's anything wrong with them."

"Alright, I'll hurry and help you wash up, so you don't miss your shift again." Seeing that he couldn't persuade him, the servant didn't say anything more, just washed his hands, and then helped Sun Chuanting wash up.

After washing up, Sun Chuanting changed into his brand-new scarlet official robe.

When he put on the court robes, the majesty of an official of the court naturally returned to him.

He straightened his clothes and strode towards the gate.

Beyond the courtyard gate lies a completely different world.

The chill of early winter was in the air, but the streets were bustling with activity.

Xuanwumen Street, a major thoroughfare in the capital, was currently occupied by groups of craftsmen and laborers.

The demolition of illegal buildings in the capital city accelerated abruptly after half of the silk shop owned by Wang Tiqian, the supervisor of the Eastern Depot, was forcibly demolished.

The road paving work has been underway for several days now.

Sun Chuanting slowed his pace.

He saw hundreds and thousands of people being organized in an orderly manner.

Strong young men, shouting powerful chants, their steam rising into white smoke from their heads, worked together to carry heavy stone slabs.

Some elderly people and women do light work such as watering and carrying soil.

There were even some teenagers picking up pebbles and handing out tools.

Among the crowd were some people who looked sallow and thin, and whose expressions were somewhat listless.

Sun Chuanting understood immediately; these were the starving people who had fled from the vicinity of the capital.

Each person wore a simple wooden sign around their neck.

He had asked about it out of curiosity when he finished his shift a few days ago, and learned that it was a work record certificate.

Each day, points are awarded based on the cards. Once you accumulate ten points, you can exchange them for two liters of rice.

The most interesting thing was that during the first few days when the grain was distributed, there were always officials on duty passing by.

A group of civil officials dressed in various colored robes crowded around, forming a circle to watch the spectacle, pointing and whispering amongst themselves. The clerk in charge of distributing grain broke out in a cold sweat, his face stiffening.

—After all, Wang Zhaodui, the newly appointed judge of Shuntian Prefecture, had eliminated 30% of the clerks and officials in the entire Shuntian Prefecture.

Moreover, this was directly sent to the Eastern Depot for interrogation. All the protests and memorials from the Ministry of Justice were rejected, and His Majesty only gave a uniform reply: "This will not be repeated."

What merit or ability does a clerk have to be allowed into the Eastern Depot?

Sun Chuanting didn't agree with this approach either, but it does seem to be effective so far.

But... what will happen if we leave the capital? Can we really rely on the Eastern Depot to control the world?
"Get up! Get up!"

A louder shout came from behind him, pulling him back to reality.

Not far away, a group of laborers were working together to slowly erect a huge stone tablet.

As the stone tablet was firmly embedded in the base, a burst of amazement and cheers erupted from the crowd.

Sun Chuanting's heart stirred, and he followed the crowd.

"In September of the seventh year of the Tianqi reign, the first phase of the new policies in the capital was commemorated with a monument marking the achievements of the Xuanwumen section of the road."

A scholar dressed in a Confucian robe was loudly reciting the inscription, swaying his head as he did so:

“The old road leading to Xuanwu Gate in the capital is dilapidated, causing inconvenience to travelers.”

"The emperor, mindful of the people's hardships, initiated new policies, the first of which was to repair this thoroughfare."

"The road was originally ten zhang wide, with one zhang of ditches on the left and right, and eight zhang of stone slabs in the middle, making it 216 zhang long in total."

"The necessary expenses were all donated by the officials and gentry who were grateful for the Emperor's grace and generously contributed."

"This inscription is erected to commemorate and honor the good deeds of all."

The scholar had just finished reading when a merchant from out of town began to read aloud:

"This is strange. Since ancient times, haven't we always erected steles to commemorate achievements after they've been accomplished? How come this project is barely started, and they've already erected a stele?"

People in the capital, who were always very knowledgeable about court politics, laughed and said, "This road stele is not erected for the road, but clearly for the high-ranking officials. You, an outsider, really don't understand anything. It's ridiculous."

The merchant blushed, muttering something about "the world is going to the dogs" and "people's hearts are no longer what they used to be," before pushing his way through the crowd and disappearing from sight.

Below the inscription is a long, densely packed list of donors.

The name at the very top was engraved with cinnabar, and the words "leader" were also carved next to it, making it particularly eye-catching.

"Li Gongmingcheng, Grand Master of the Palace, Senior Protector of the Army, and Marquis of Wuqing, hereby presents twenty thousand taels of silver!"

There was a sound of gasps from the crowd.

"My goodness, Marquis Wuqing is really generous!" someone exclaimed.

Someone nearby immediately chimed in: "Don't you even know how many shops Marquis Wuqing owns in the capital, or how many fertile fields and estates he has outside the city? This little bit of money is just a drop in the ocean!"

"Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince, Minister of Works, Lord Xue Fengxiang, five thousand taels of silver."

Discussion immediately arose again.

"How can Minister Xue, a civil official, be so rich? I'm afraid it's not..." The words were left unsaid, but the implication was self-evident.

Sun Chuanting's gaze continued to sweep downwards.

Civil officials, nobles, and eunuchs—familiar or unfamiliar names were listed, with donations ranging from several thousand to several hundred taels of silver.

His gaze lingered at the end of the list.

Gao Shiming, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, donated one hundred taels of silver.

true or false?

Sun Chuanting remained silent as he squeezed out of the noisy crowd, his mind a jumble of thoughts, as if he too had become a bustling construction site.

Fame is the reins, profit is the chain; the world is bustling, yet all are bound by these ties.

The questions His Majesty asked him during the interview now seem to have answers, yet not entirely.

His thoughts drifted back to the conversation he had had at the Qianqing Palace a few days earlier.

The young emperor showed little interest in his past experience in the Ministry of Personnel, but instead inquired in detail about the local customs and policies he had encountered during his tenures in Yongcheng and Shangqiu counties in Henan.

After listening to his account, the emperor simply sighed and said, "Minister Sun's performance in governing is indeed outstanding. However, the methods you used are not suitable for everyone."

Yes, it's not available to everyone.

Sun Chuanting smiled bitterly to himself.

When he was in Yongcheng, behind the local powerful Ding family stood his classmate Ding Qirui. After a letter was sent, everything went smoothly.

During his tenure in Shangqiu, Hou Xun, the retired former censor, provided him with strong support, assisting him in everything from training local militias to developing water conservancy projects.

But the emperor's next question made him break out in a cold sweat.

"How much land do the local powerful families own? How much of it has disappeared? With their populations growing, what will become of them in the end? If the land is surveyed, how much can the tax be increased according to the current dynasty's system of one-thirtieth of the land tax?"

He couldn't answer any of them.

With powerful figures offering him their full support, how could he possibly have the audacity to ask them for help again?

"If a county magistrate who has passed the imperial examinations has no peers to help him, no officials to support him, and no hope of promotion through examinations, how can he suppress the local tyrants, survey the land, and implement new policies?"

He still couldn't answer.

In the end, the emperor only asked him to spend some time in the newly established secretariat, saying that he had not seen enough of the world and had not done enough detail in his work.

"You may take a closer look at these new policies in the capital; perhaps you will gain some insights."

"Of course, this is only the first phase. There will be a second, a third, a fourth phase... I don't know how many phases it will take before we can truly achieve great order in the capital."

“If the capital can be governed, there is still Beizhili, the vast empire to govern, and even the vassal states of various countries to govern.”

"Sun Qing, study hard. The affairs of the world are both complex and difficult."

"I will eventually need your help to rebuild the empire."

……

Will the world be re-ploughed?
Since the ruler is in charge of the plowing, the subjects should naturally act as oxen and horses.

but……

But what about his family in Zhenwu Guard?
The hereditary position of centurion has been passed down to this day. There are no military guards or farmland left; most of it has become the land of the Sun family.

Your Majesty...does he know about this?
Even if he didn't know, with his intelligence, how could he not have thought of this?

How will he handle it?

What should I do then?
……

"Brother Sun...Brother Baiya! Sun Chuanting!"

A call startled Sun Chuanting from his chaotic thoughts.

He looked around blankly and realized that he had unknowingly turned into West Chang'an Street and almost ended up at the Six Ministries.

The person who called him was none other than Bi Ziyan, the former Minister of Revenue in Nanjing, who had been reinstated at the same time as him. Now, like him, he was being given a new post.

The so-called "addition" simply means adding an extra person to the existing duties, but the actual authority depends on the emperor's appointment.

"Thank you for reminding me, Minister Bi. I almost took the wrong path." A hint of shame flashed across Sun Chuanting's face as he cupped his hands in thanks.

These newcomers to the secretariat are now working in the refined study next to the "Renzhen Hall" in the West Garden.

The emperor bestowed upon him a waist token, which allowed him to enter and exit through the Xi'an Gate without having to detour through the Chengtian Gate.

His thoughts wandered for a moment, and he did indeed take the wrong path.

"It's alright, there's still plenty of time." Bi Ziyan waved his hand and laughed, "Let's go, we shouldn't be late for roll call."

Although the two were more than ten years apart in age, they got along very well.

Sun Chuanting gradually put those unfounded worries aside.

After all, the new policy still needs to be tested in the capital and Beizhili first, and it is unknown when it will be implemented in Shanxi.

The two traveled together, chatting about everything from the local customs and culture of Shanxi to the military situation in Liaodong. Their conversations covered a wide range of topics, but the atmosphere remained harmonious throughout.

Finally, the topic unexpectedly turned to the secrets of growing spinach in winter.

Sun Chuanting explained his predicament regarding his vegetable garden, and after listening, Bi Ziyan stroked his beard and smiled:

“Brother Baiya, you have sown the seeds too densely. It is only right to weed out the weeds and keep the good ones. If you are unwilling to pull them out now, the whole field will become overgrown in the future.”

Sun Chuanting was shocked, feeling that Bi Ziyan's words seemed to have a hidden meaning.

Did His Majesty discuss the same things with him as he did with himself?
Have you all talked about surveying land and eliminating powerful clans?

Sun Chuanting seemed to be thinking about something, and after a moment of contemplation, he replied, "What you say is very true, Minister. However, the fields in the country are not limited to one corner. If we pull too many fields, we may damage their very foundation."

Bi Ziyan looked at him with a puzzled expression, finding his words rather strange.

But he was always mild-mannered, so he just laughed it off, didn't respond, and casually changed the subject.

The two walked and talked, and soon entered Xi'an Gate and turned towards Xiyuan.

When passing by Rabbit Mountain, I saw that more than ten acres of new fields had been opened up at the foot of the mountain, and more than ten old farmers were leveling the land and splashing something.

The two exchanged a glance and simultaneously moved closer.

"May I ask, sir, what are you all doing here?" Bi Ziyan asked gently.

A farmer who was working looked up with a simple smile on his face and replied, "Your Majesty, His Majesty has instructed us to cultivate a few more acres of land and prepare the soil for lower, middle, and upper fields. He said that we should try planting some new rice next spring so that we can make a comparison."

After saying that, he cautiously added, "Several officials have already inquired about the details."

Sun Chuanting and Bi Ziyan nodded and asked no further questions.

With these dozen or so acres of land being developed, it seems like they're going to start farming.

This is indeed a matter of course, since increasing farmland productivity is an unavoidable issue in order to resolve the conflict between people and land.

The two remained silent the entire way, and soon arrived at the row of exquisite residences next to the main hall.

Just before entering the house, Bi Ziyan suddenly stopped, turned to look at Sun Chuanting, and said earnestly, "Brother Sun, you've come at a good time."

Sun Chuanting stopped abruptly and bowed deeply to Bi Ziyan: "Minister Bi, Jiang Ziya met King Wen at the age of seventy, and it is not too late for us now."

Bi Ziyan was taken aback upon hearing this, then burst into laughter:
"Haha, good! I hope I can live to see that day!"

"Come on, let's go inside and see how many good articles we can find to enjoy today!"

……

No one was late today.

The nine members of the secretariat were each in their respective positions.

Initially, the emperor decreed that those who were late had to spend an hour turning over the soil in the West Garden farmland after their shift ended.

For some reason, these nine officials, who usually prided themselves on being diligent, all "inadvertently" arrived late several times.

The emperor realized something was wrong and changed the rule to a fine of one coin for being late.

From then on, no one was ever late again.

Today's rotating secretary-general is Ni Yuanlu.

He had dark circles under his eyes, looked around, and his voice sounded tired.

"Gentlemen, the number of new official documents on state affairs has increased again since yesterday."

He paused, then finally couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

"In total, there are 173 letters."

The room was silent, everyone's expressions were numb, and the joy of the morning had vanished.

Ni Yuanlu pointed listlessly to the mountain of memorials piled up on the table.

"Come on, nineteen letters each, the rest are mine."

Everyone silently rose, filed forward, each took their share from the memorial mountain, and returned to their seats.

Sun Chuanting picked up a large vat of strong tea that the eunuch had already prepared, took a big gulp, and frowned as the bitter tea cleared his mind.

He first read through the titles of the memorials one by one.

"On the Conflict Between People and Land: A Decisive Approach to Suppress Land Consolidation," "A Study on the Population Growth and Land Consumption in Xiangfu County, Kaifeng Prefecture, Henan," "Guizhou's Land Scarcity and Population Excess: The Reform of Local Chieftains and Central Government Officials May Offer a Solution"...

These official documents, which revolved around the "contradiction between people and land" raised by the emperor, could not be judged by their titles alone.

Anything with an empty, grandiose, or sensational goal is likely a waste of time.

However, a very detailed and specific title does not necessarily mean it is a good article.

Many people only know that official documents on state affairs prefer empirical evidence and data, so they pile up hearsay and unverified data in them.

For example, some people even quoted the discussion of the "Land Law" in the "Book of Fan Shengzhi" to say that the yield per mu could reach 100 shi.

If this policy can be implemented, what will happen to the 300 million people!
In His Majesty's words, such official documents are nothing more than a piece of waste paper wrapped in gold and silver.

The phrase "gold wrapped in silver" refers to something that looks shiny on the outside but is actually empty inside.

According to the rules, these memorials would be reviewed by three people, and only those that received three "zeros" could proceed to the next round of collective voting.

So what appears to be the workload of nineteen memorials is actually the workload of more than sixty!
Ultimately, only those who achieve a perfect score of five zeros will be presented to Huang Lijie and others in the cabinet.

Sun Chuanting was having a bad day; he flipped through several official documents wrapped in gold and silver right at the beginning.

Sun Chuanting frowned and drew seven or eight "X"s in a row, his frustration rising again.

He put down his pen, rubbed his temples, and picked up another book.

A Study on Maritime Transport.

Sigh, this is the seventh shipping-related article submitted in the past few days...

Let's hope it's not another official document that talks about abolishing the canal system and converting it to the sea, but doesn't even understand the ship types—just a gold-plated document.

A few days ago, a similar memorial was fortunately submitted after passing through layers of screening.

As a result, His Majesty threw them back at them, telling them to learn about seafaring properly and not to become less than an emperor like himself.

Unfortunately, none of the nine people in the secretariat, plus six others including Minister Huang, truly understood naval affairs.

Sun Chuanting opened the memorial and began to read it carefully.

The opening is a classic, bold statement that breaks the ice.

"I have heard that the benefits of sea transport are ten times greater than those of canal transport. If we abandon canal transport and switch to sea transport, the cost of a million soldiers transporting goods can be avoided, and their resources can be redirected to the northwest to alleviate the crisis between Shaanxi and Shanxi..."

The idea of ​​using the Grand Canal for the Northwest is interesting, but whether it will work depends on the details.

Sun Chuanting remained expressionless, like a cold-blooded butcher, and continued reading.

Huh? Great find!
The author of this memorial meticulously listed various comparisons between sea transport and canal transport in terms of cost, efficiency, and capacity. The data was detailed and the arguments were rigorous, clearly demonstrating that he had put in a lot of effort.

Sun Chuanting was extremely engrossed in reading, and when he read the most exquisite parts, he couldn't help but nod slightly.

After reading it through once, he didn't hesitate to solemnly draw a "〇" on the cover.

This is the first circle he gave away today.

He flipped the cover over and took a look.

—Liu Kongjing, Chief Clerk of the Ministry of Revenue.

It was yet another person he'd never heard of before; he'd seen far too many people like this in the last few days.

In the past, he had a good reputation and formed associations. He would compose poems and sing songs, and most of what he presented was gold wrapped in silver.

On the contrary, these obscure people can suddenly produce a few detailed and excellent articles.

Sun Chuanting put down his pen, stretched lazily, and then realized that the large vat of strong tea had been emptied without him noticing.

He looked up and glanced around.

My colleagues were still engrossed in their studies at their seats, looking focused yet exhausted.

Morning light quietly streamed in through the windowpane.

The beam of light passed through the dust particles floating in the air, creating clearly visible trails.

Inside the study, no one spoke; only the soft rustling of fingers turning pages rose and fell in a continuous chorus.

Sun Chuanting sighed contentedly. The anxiety and restlessness he had felt on his way up early in the morning seemed to have subsided, and a sense of fulfillment returned.

Why do you think so much?

As Your Majesty said, though a trickle may be small, it can gradually become a river; though a tiny spark may be small, it can eventually start a wildfire.

Do everything according to reason, and do it conscientiously.

If one day the land survey really goes to Shanxi, what can he do if he goes home and divides the land himself?

Could he possibly be inferior to Wang Tiqian, the eunuch of the Eastern Depot?!
Sun Chuanting rubbed his slightly sore eyes, picked up a new memorial, and immersed himself in it once again.

……

After a long while, a clear and melodious bell rang out, breaking the silence of the room.

Everyone looked up in confusion.

A young eunuch peeked in and said respectfully, "My lords, it's time to go to the Hall of Diligence for the meeting."

(End of this chapter)