How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 161 Chongzhen fights the Prince of Qin, Gao Chuang fights the landlord, everyone fights for a bright future (Third update, please vote)

In December, the sky over Xi'an was gray and oppressive, making it hard to breathe.

Inside the Chengyun Hall of the Qin Prince's Mansion, a large amount of charcoal was burning, making it rather warm and stuffy.

Prince Zhu Cunshu, dressed in the everyday clothes of a prince, sat in the main seat, holding a cup of hot tea in his hand, his eyelids drooping, and he seemed listless.

He felt a little annoyed.

Standing below were a dense mass of members of his Qin clan, including generals and lieutenants, many of whom he couldn't even name. Their clothes were worn and their faces pale and sickly; they all looked rather unlucky.

Wei Zhongxian and the newly appointed governor Hong Chengchou sat at the head of the table, supposedly on imperial orders to comfort the imperial family.

Zhu Cunshu sneered inwardly. A consolation offer? They were probably just trying to extort money from him again, forcing him to donate funds. That last 20,000 shi of wheat felt like a knife to his flesh. This time, he absolutely couldn't back down.

He made up his mind that no matter what the eunuch and Hong Chengchou said later, he would just keep crying poverty.

Wei Zhongxian slowly took a sip of tea, his high-pitched voice breaking the silence.

"Your Highness, fellow clansmen, His Majesty is in Beijing, but he always keeps our relatives in Shaanxi in his heart."

He glanced at the poor members of the royal family below who were staring at him expectantly, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his face.

"Especially since His Majesty has heard that many of our relatives are having a hard time, he is having trouble sleeping and eating."

Hong Chengchou sat upright to the side, expressionless, but his gaze occasionally swept over Zhu Cunshu with a hint of coldness.

Zhu Cunshu snorted, put down his teacup, and prepared to begin his rehearsed speech.

"Eunuch Wei, Governor Hong, you know my predicament..."

Before he could finish speaking, Hong Chengchou suddenly stood up and took out an imperial edict from a yellow silk box held by a servant beside him.

"Your Highness Prince Qin, members of the imperial clan, there is an imperial edict." Hong Chengchou's voice was not loud, but clear and forceful, interrupting him.

Zhu Cunxu was taken aback, his heart skipping a beat. An imperial edict? How come there wasn't a single word of it beforehand?

He had no choice but to stand up, lift his robe, and kneel down. The members of the royal family below hurriedly followed suit and knelt down as well.

"Your Majesty, we respectfully wish you good health."

Hong Chengchou unfolded the imperial edict and read it aloud.

The opening was still the usual cliché: the emperor inquired about the imperial relatives and expressed his sympathy for their hardships.

Zhu Cunshu knelt on the ground, pondering in his heart that it really was an imperial edict demanding money and grain. He was trying to figure out how to evade it.

But as he listened, he realized something was off.

The imperial edict stated that the King of Qin was "loyal and diligent in governing the country, but his vast territory was difficult to manage," and the emperor was "deeply concerned."

It is also said that the property left by King Min of Qin is the "common property" of all the Qin royal family members, and should be "shared with kindness to strengthen the bond of kinship".

Zhu Cunshu's forehead began to sweat, and his body became somewhat stiff.

When he heard the order that "all the existing estates and pastures of the Qin vassal state shall be entrusted to unemployed members of the imperial clan in Xi'an to manage them separately for their livelihood," he suddenly raised his head, his eyes widened, and all the color drained from his face.

"...Each member of the imperial clan must pay their regular taxes to the Shaanxi Provincial Administration Commission annually, and additionally allocate 'ancestral sacrifice silver' to the Prince of Qin's residence to support the incense offerings of the late king..."

"...Those among my sons who aspire to take the imperial examinations or pursue industry and commerce are permitted to do as they please..."

"...However, the right to manage is not hereditary. If someone fails to pay taxes for three consecutive years, the governor's office will verify the facts and revoke the management authority, then select a virtuous and capable member of the imperial clan to succeed them..."

Every word Hong Chengchou uttered was like a hammer blow to Zhu Cunshu's heart.

He heard it clearly: this wasn't negotiation, it was outright robbery! They were dividing up his Qin Prince's estate, which had been in existence for over two hundred years, right there and then!

"Wow—"

As soon as the decree was read, there was a moment of deathly silence below, which was then erupted into a frenzy.

The impoverished generals and lieutenants looked at each other in disbelief at first, then burst into huge cheers and cries.

"Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor's grace!"

"Your Majesty...Your Majesty hasn't forgotten us poor relatives!"

"There's a way out! There's a way out!"

Many people were so excited that tears streamed down their faces as they kowtowed repeatedly in the direction of Beijing, their foreheads hitting the cold gold bricks with a dull thud.

Confined to Xi'an, they eked out a meager stipend, living worse than the servants of wealthy families. Now, suddenly possessing land and the hope of making a living on their own, how could they not be overjoyed?
Zhu Cunshu, however, seemed to have lost all his strength, collapsing to the ground. He pointed at Hong Chengchou, then at the cheering poor relatives, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

It's over. It's all over.

Estates and pastures—those are the lifeblood of the Qin Prince's manor. Without them, what kind of prince is he? Just an empty shell!
Wei Zhongxian then walked over, bent down, and looked at him with a forced smile.

"Your Highness, look at this imperial decree! Isn't it thoughtful? It not only solves your 'difficulty' but also preserves the Qin bloodline, ensuring that so many relatives have food to eat. This is an immense blessing."

Zhu Cunshu suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, filled with resentment and despair.

Wei Zhongxian seemed not to notice and continued slowly, "Your Highness, His Majesty is so considerate, why don't you... kowtow and thank the Emperor for his grace?"

Several officers of the Imperial Guard, dressed in flying fish robes, silently surrounded him, their hands resting on the hilt of his embroidered spring knife.

Zhu Cunshu looked at the fierce-looking officers, at the poor relatives who couldn't wait to take over the estates, and then at Hong Chengchou's cold eyes and Wei Zhongxian's hypocritical smile.

A bone-chilling cold shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head.

He understood that this was not a matter for discussion, but a fait accompli. If he dared to utter a word of dissent, he would likely meet a sudden and violent end.

He struggled to his feet, knelt down again, faced north, and with all his might, tremblingly kowtowed.

"Your subject... Your subject Zhu Cunshu... kowtows in gratitude... for the Emperor's boundless grace..."

Every word was stained with blood and tears. Wei Zhongxian nodded in satisfaction and gave Hong Chengchou a wink.

Hong Chengchou understood, stepped forward, and announced to the still ecstatic members of the imperial clan that the governor's office would immediately begin registering and verifying the amount of land each household was managing, and would soon be able to leave the city to take over.

The atmosphere became even more heated.

Wei Zhongxian then said to the distraught Zhu Cunxu, "Your Highness, the Emperor's grace is so profound, shouldn't you personally go to the capital, kowtow before His Majesty, and express your gratitude?"

Zhu Cunshu trembled all over, his face turning ashen.

He knew that once he went to Xi'an, he might never return.

Watching Zhu Cunshu being "invited" away to prepare for the carriage, Hong Chengchou walked to Wei Zhongxian's side and whispered, "Lord Wei, the Xi'an matter is over. From now on, Shaanxi will no longer have the Qin Prince's fiefdom, but only a few thousand 'Imperial Estate Stewards' to manage His Majesty's estates."

Wei Zhongxian chuckled and said in a high-pitched voice, "His Majesty's move is brilliant. Governor Hong, it's up to you now. Whether these nobles can become His Majesty's allies depends on your careful management."

Hong Chengchou bowed and said, "This humble official understands."

Almost at the same moment.

In northern Shaanxi, beside the official road leading to Fugu, outside a manor with high walls and a large courtyard, there was a bustling noise.

Gao Yingxiang reined in his horse, looked at the plaque that read "Li Juren Zhuang" in front of him, and snorted coldly.

Behind him were Gao Yigong, Gao Jie, and their brothers, as well as more and more starving people following them in their search for a way to survive.

"Smash it open!" Gao Yingxiang pointed with his whip.

With a shout, the starving people grabbed the thick wooden stakes and smashed open the iron-clad gate with a few loud crashes.

The dozens of villagers, seeing this, were so frightened that they dropped their sticks and knelt down to beg for mercy.

The manor owner, Li, was a plump middle-aged man dressed in a silk shirt. Gao Jie carried him out of the study in the backyard like a chick and threw him onto the cold ground of the threshing ground.

The granary was opened.

The white flour and golden millet were piled up like small mountains.

The villagers and starving people who had come with the rebel army stared wide-eyed and swallowed hard.

Gao Yingxiang walked up to the trembling Li Juren, but instead of whipping him, he looked down at him.

"Are you a scholar who passed the imperial examination?" Gao Yingxiang asked, his voice not loud, but it silenced the entire room.

"Yes...yes...I am a Juren (successful candidate in the imperial examination) of the 43rd year of the Wanli reign..." Juren Li's teeth chattered.

"Oh, sir, a scholar." Gao Yingxiang nodded, then suddenly his voice rose sharply, like a thunderclap:
"Then let me ask you! The Emperor has already issued a decree exempting the Liaodong military levy! Why are you still collecting it!"

Li, the scholar, trembled: "No...no..."

"No?" Gao Yingxiang suddenly pulled out a stack of account books from his pocket and threw them at his face. "These were found in your accounting office! It's written in black and white that you overcharged each household by three qian of silver for the 'Liaodong tax' this autumn! You've deceived the emperor!"

The crowd stirred and a chorus of angry curses erupted.

Before he could explain, Gao Yingxiang continued to question him sharply:
"His Majesty, out of compassion for Shaanxi's disaster, has granted special permission to 'convert taxes into grain,' meaning we can use grain to pay taxes in silver! Why are you still forcing our fellow villagers to pay in silver!"

"What are you up to? Grain prices are always low after the autumn harvest, and you take the opportunity to suppress prices, forcing them to sell their grain for money to pay your taxes! When everyone runs out of grain and there's a shortage of food in the spring, you raise grain prices high! This trick of yours has driven countless families to their deaths!"

With each question he asked, he took a step forward, and Li, the scholar, slumped a little further.

"What happened to all the Confucian classics you've studied? They've all gone to waste! Your methods are even more despicable than those of corrupt officials in the imperial court! Corrupt officials don't behave like human beings in other places, they don't prey on their own neighbors, but you gentry are like wolves sucking the marrow from the bones of our fellow villagers!"

Gao Yingxiang's words were like a knife, piercing through the window paper.

The villagers in the audience could no longer hold back and burst into tears and curses.

"The rebel king is right! Li the Skinflint! Give me back my son!"

"My father was driven to suicide by your relentless pressure to collect debts!"

"Kill this heartless bastard!"

Looking at the indignant crowd, Gao Yingxiang took a deep breath and shouted, "Fellow villagers! You all heard that! The little emperor in the Forbidden City still has some conscience! But these black-hearted gentry, deceiving their superiors and subordinates, are driving us to our deaths!"

He turned around and pointed at Li, the scholar whose face was ashen.

"What use is there in keeping such a scourge on the country and its people, a treacherous and deceitful gentry? Today, I, Gao Yingxiang, will act on behalf of Heaven and rid the unjustly deceased villagers of this scourge!"

Gao Jie understood and stepped forward to make a cut.

Blood spurted out.

The starving people fell silent for a moment, then erupted in thunderous cheers.

"Open the granary and release the grain!" Gao Yingxiang waved his hand.

The crowd surged toward the granary like a tidal wave.

Looking at the scene, Gao Yingxiang said to Gao Yigong beside him, "Yigong, do you see? The very foundation of the Ming Dynasty is rotten to the core. The little emperor in Beijing wants to do something decent, but his subordinates ignore him and only push people to their deaths. In this world, we are not afraid of not having followers!"

Countless able-bodied men who received the grain immediately knelt down, wanting to follow the rebel leader.

the same day.

In the Qin Prince's Mansion in Xi'an, Zhu Cunxu, the former largest landlord in Shaanxi, embarked on his journey to the capital to "express gratitude" under the "escort" of an "imperial envoy." He knew that once he left, the Qin Prince's Mansion would be completely without its leader, and the land that the mansion had managed for two hundred years would fall into the hands of thousands of Zhu families, the "Ming imperial relatives."

On the loess slopes of the Loess Plateau in northern Shaanxi, Gao Yingxiang, the "Rebel King," pointed his whip toward the territory of Wang Jiayin in the north. Behind him, a surging tide of people, who had eaten the grain of the "rich," were determined to seek justice for the world.

In the Forbidden City, Emperor Chongzhen used a "Decree of Grace" to defeat his own most powerful landlord, a prince.

On the desolate plains, Gao Yingxiang used a ghost-head knife to defeat the bloodthirsty landlord scholar.

It seems that everyone has a bright future ahead of them.
(End of this chapter)