How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 146 Zheng Zhilong's money, Liu Xiang's money, I want it all! (Monthly tickets, subscriptions, I want them all!)
Just a few days after Zheng Zhilong made up his mind to head north, there was also movement in the heavily guarded mansion on the Pearl River outside Guangzhou.

Liu Xiang, another powerful figure at sea, had just seen off the messenger sent by Xiong Wencan, the governor of Fujian. The messenger's message was exactly the same as the one sent to the Zheng family, both concerning the "purchase of an island and the bestowal of a kingship," but he also "let slip" that Zheng Zhilong was very eager for this matter and might personally make a trip to the capital.

The messenger had barely left when only three people remained in the flower hall. Liu Xiang was short and stocky, and even wrapped in a silk robe, he couldn't hide his fierce, bandit-like air. He paced back and forth restlessly, like an enraged wild boar.

"Zheng Yiguan is going to Beijing in person?" He suddenly stopped, his triangular eyes glaring at his strategist Ding Xuewen and cousin Liu Yueying beside him. "Did you hear that? He dares to abandon his own base! Is that princely hat really that appealing?"

Master Ding stroked his goatee, squinting as he said, "Master Xiang, calm down. Zheng Zhilong is the kind of man who won't act without a profit. His eagerness only proves that this matter is far more than just empty fame. In my humble opinion, this might be a scheme by the court to pit two tigers against each other."

"Master, stop with the flowery language!" Liu Xiang waved his hand. "I'll just ask you one question: if Zheng Yiguan really gets the title of Prince by the Emperor, which side will those opportunists at sea side with? At that point, will we even have a chance to breathe?"

He grew angrier as he spoke, slamming his fist on the coffee table: "No way! This prince, Zheng Yiguan can be one, but I, Liu Xiang, can't? When it comes to ships and cannons, when have I ever been afraid of him?"

At this moment, Liu Yueying, who had been sitting quietly to the side, spoke up, her hand still resting on the golden abacus: "Boss, you can't make money or earn a royal title just by yelling and smashing things."

Liu Xiang's tone softened slightly: "Aying, what do you have to say? Are you really going to just watch Zheng Yiguan climb all over us?"

Liu Yueying didn't answer, lowering her eyes as her fingers flew across the abacus, clicking rapidly. She whispered, "We need two seagoing vessels and one Fujian-style ship for the northward journey, along with eighty guards. The land route arrangements and bribing officials in the capital will cost a considerable sum." She looked up at Liu Xiang, "Boss, this is something we can fight for. But we can't just impulsively gather all the men like you do."

"What do you mean?" Liu Xiang and Master Ding both looked at her.

“This isn’t like intercepting ships at sea to collect debts, where you get cash on delivery,” Liu Yueying said. “This is a huge deal. It’s not just about gold and silver; it’s also about the risk of your journey north, and it’s tied to our fortunes for the next three to five years. We need to establish rules first.”

She picked up the leather ledger, turned to a new page, and quickly wrote a few lines of characters with her fingertip dipped in ink, a mixture of Arabic numerals and Chinese characters: "First, immediately take stock of the available cash and easily sellable treasures, and calculate the cost. Second, estimate what price Zheng Zhilong can offer; have a bottom line in mind. If it exceeds that line, even if you win, it will be a losing proposition. Most importantly," she looked at Liu Xiang, "you are going, but not to risk your life; you are going to negotiate. The court is selling a title; we are buying stability and future benefits. This deal must be clearly calculated."

Master Ding praised, "Sister Yueying is insightful! Master Xiang, this trip north is not a display of reckless courage, but rather an attempt to emulate Lü Buwei's strategy of hoarding rare goods! If handled properly, a royal title is worth more than ten years of risking one's life at sea!"

Liu Xiang glanced at his sister, then at his advisor, his anger gradually subsiding. He nodded emphatically: "Alright! We'll do as you say! Ah Ying, go and take stock of the accounts. List out exactly how much gold and silver we can mobilize! Advisor, think carefully about how to navigate things once we get to Beijing!"

A sinister grin spread across his face: "Zheng Yiguan wants to be the first to try his luck? This time I'm going to take the whole pot! But, as Aying said, we need to calculate whether we can actually take this pot and whether it's worth it!"

July of the first year of the Chongzhen reign, West Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.

Ice was placed inside, but the stifling heat hadn't completely dissipated. Emperor Chongzhen, Zhu Youjian, wore only a worn-out indigo Taoist robe and leaned back behind his desk. He wasn't looking at any memorials; his right hand rested on the smooth rosewood surface of the desk, tapping repeatedly—tap…tap…tap… The sound wasn't loud, but it felt like tapping on the very tip of one's heart.

Wang Chengen, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial and concurrently in charge of the Inner Treasury, stood hunched over in a corner, not daring to utter a sound.

Four people stood below. Wei Zhongxian, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, was considered a "veteran of merit," sitting on an embroidered stool, his eyelids drooping, his thoughts unreadable. Huang Liji, the Grand Secretary, stroked his sparse beard, his brows furrowed in a knot. Bi Ziyan, the Minister of Revenue, wore a bitter expression, staring at the cracks in the gold-brick floor, as if he could pry silver out of them. Wang Zaijin, the Minister of War, stood ramrod straight, his face equally grim.

They had all received the news that the two big fish in the southern sea—Zheng Zhilong and Liu Xiang—had already sailed north by fast boat. The Emperor summoned them in a great hurry, and everyone knew perfectly well why.

Emperor Chongzhen stopped tapping his fingers, glanced at the four men, and said without beating around the bush, "Everyone's here. Let's get down to business. Zheng Zhilong and Liu Xiang's ships should arrive in Tianjin and Dengzhou in ten days to half a month. I called you here for one thing: how much should we sell the hat of the Prince of Jizhou for? And how should we sell it so that the court doesn't lose out? Tell me."

The warm pavilion fell silent for a moment. Selling a prince's hat... that would make even the ancestors furious. But the hole in the hole was indeed terrifyingly large.

Bi Ziyan seemed to have been holding it in for a long time. He stepped forward, bowed, and sighed before even speaking: "Your Majesty," his voice trembled with tears, "I was just about to report the difficulties faced by the Ministry of Revenue. This... this is probably a bottomless pit."

Chongzhen remained silent, only staring at him.

Bi Ziyan cleared his throat and began to list the items one by one, very clearly: "The first item is the five northern provinces—Beizhili, Shandong, Shanxi, Henan, and Shaanxi—where, according to His Majesty's decree, the 'tax silver to grain' system is being piloted. This is a benevolent policy, but the decree states that the collected grain and fodder will be directly used to subsidize the nine border regions from Shaanxi, Shanxi, and Beizhili, and half of that from Henan and Shandong will be transferred to the official granaries of Shaanxi and Shanxi, and none will go into the Imperial Granary. We have calculated carefully that this item will result in a net reduction of 1.5 million taels of silver in the Imperial Granary's annual revenue."

He paused, stealing a glance at the emperor's expression. Chongzhen's face remained expressionless. Bi Ziyan had no choice but to bite the bullet and continue, "The second matter is the reduction of the additional levies on the Liaodong tax for these five provinces. This will save approximately two million one hundred thousand taels of silver."

"Adding them together, it's a deficit of 3.6 million taels." He licked his dry lips. "The only good news is that His Majesty's reforms to the salt law have been effective, and the salt tax revenue in the first year of Chongzhen's reign is expected to increase by about 600,000 taels."

“But this 600,000 won’t fill the 3.6 million hole!” Bi Ziyan’s voice trembled. “Your Majesty, the Taicang granary was already so empty that a horse could run through it. Now, it’s completely empty! The autumn salary payment is just around the corner, and the salaries of the officials in the capital and the wages of the Beijing garrison are still nowhere to be found! I… I can’t keep this family going!”

After he finished speaking, he lowered his head deeply.

Emperor Chongzhen understood perfectly well. This money could no longer be squeezed from the poor people of the five northern provinces. The conversion of taxes from silver to grain was to store grain for famine relief; the suspension of the Liaodong tax was to give the people a breather. Otherwise, if the people were driven to rebellion, it would be even more terrible than the Jurchens in Liaodong.

He remained silent for a moment before speaking, his voice calm: "I understand. The people of the North are suffering, and the court's concessions are unavoidable. This deficit must be made up for elsewhere." He turned his gaze to Wang Zaijin: "Minister Wang, what's the situation with the Ministry of War? Didn't they say they could save some money on military supplies in Liaodong?"

Upon hearing this, Wang Zaijin immediately straightened his back and stepped forward: "Your Majesty, thanks to Your Majesty's power and prestige, a three-feudal system has been established in Liaodong, which has indeed saved some expenses. According to my calculations, it can save about two million taels of silver in Liaodong taxes each year."

He changed the subject, his face growing even more somber: "However, the elite troops transferred back from Liaodong need to be deployed to Jizhou and Changping to strengthen their defenses, which will still cost money. The four garrisons of Jizhou, Changping, Xuanfu, and Datong need to pay back wages, prepare city defense equipment, and recruit able-bodied men—all of which require money. The little silver allocated by the Ministry of Revenue is simply not enough! It is only thanks to His Majesty's allocation of more than two million taels from the imperial treasury that we have barely managed to stay afloat."

Wang Zaijin took a breath and dropped one last bombshell: "There's something even more urgent: Korea. Commander Yuan Keli has sent an urgent report, requesting the construction of fortifications in four locations—Namyang Bay, Ganghwa Island, Cheolsan, and Namhansan—as major strongholds against the enemy. Just the labor, materials, laborers, and firearms and gunpowder alone will cost at least 400,000 taels! And that doesn't even include the rewards, weapons, and provisions needed to mobilize the righteous armies of the eight provinces of Korea, which will require another several hundred thousand taels. My rough estimate is that at least 800,000 taels are needed to get things started in Korea!"

After he finished speaking, the warm chamber fell completely silent. Bi Ziyan's face was so bitter it could drip water. Huang Liji's hand, which was stroking his beard, stopped. Wei Zhongxian remained unchanged.

Emperor Chongzhen leaned back in his chair and let out a soft sigh. If it weren't for the recent confiscation of property and collection of fines totaling several million taels, the treasury would have collapsed long ago. But that alone wouldn't do; there needed to be a sustainable source of income... No, money alone wasn't enough. What the Ming Dynasty truly lacked was resources, especially grain.

The Ming Dynasty is no longer in an economy of surplus, but rather an economy of shortage, with even the most basic food being in short supply!

Thinking of this, he sighed: "With one inflow and one outflow, there's a deficit of 3.8 million... Although the Inner Transport Treasury has some income, it can only allocate a maximum of 800,000 to the Ministry of Revenue each year, leaving a shortfall of 3 million... We'll have to rely on those money-making gods in the Southeast!"

That's a huge hole of three million!
Emperor Chongzhen stood up, paced a few steps, and glanced at everyone: "Tell me, how can we squeeze the most profit out of them? Don't hold back."

Huang Lijie, as the Grand Secretary, cleared his throat and spoke first, slowly and deliberately: "Your Majesty, this old minister believes that this matter concerns the dignity of the court and should not be handled with the clamor of a marketplace transaction. We can follow the precedent set by the previous dynasty's Maritime Trade Office bidding process and use a sealed bid method. Zheng Zhilong and Liu Xiang should each seal their willing bids and submit them to Your Majesty. After Your Majesty opens the seals, Your Majesty can choose the highest bidder to receive the island and the title. In this way, the court will not only demonstrate fairness and impartiality but also maximize its profits. This old minister estimates that, if handled properly, this title of Prince could fetch over two million taels of silver."

Bi Ziyan and Wang Zaijin both nodded slightly. This method was sound and acceptable on the surface. Wei Zhongxian also gave a soft "hmm." Although two million was not enough, with some additional funds from the imperial treasury and the closure of some post stations, it should be manageable.

Everyone felt that this was the answer the Emperor wanted.

Unexpectedly, Emperor Chongzhen suddenly smiled.

"The highest bidder wins?" he repeated, his tone mocking. "Your discussion is the way of merchants, shrewd and calculating. But this is not the way of the emperor!"

The four people below were stunned and looked up at the emperor.

Emperor Chongzhen stood up and walked out from behind his desk.

"I," he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, his voice low but each word striking a chord deep within, "am the Emperor of the Great Ming! The vast seas and borders are all my land! Zheng Zhilong's money is my money; but isn't Liu Xiang's money also my money?"

He paused for a moment, then said, slowly and deliberately:

"Why choose? I want them all!"

(End of this chapter)