How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 253 Drought, Locusts, and the Golden-Knife Prince Consort
Spring came exceptionally late in the fourth year of the Chongzhen reign.

The wind on the Loess Plateau still carried a biting chill, whipping up the yellow dust that stung the face. The wheat seedlings in the fields were sparse, withered, and yellowish, a sight that made one's heart tremble with unease.

Prince Zhu Gongxiao of Zhou trudged along the cracked ridges of the fields, his brow furrowed in worry. His princely robes were covered in dust, and his face bore the marks of weariness from his journey. The situation in Yan'an Prefecture was worse than he had imagined.

There wasn't a single decent snowfall last winter, and since the beginning of spring, not a drop of rain has fallen. The riverbed has long since dried up, and the well water is dwindling.

He squatted down and casually brushed away the soil around the roots of a clump of wheat seedlings.

What my fingers touched wasn't damp soil, but a creeping sensation that sent chills down my spine.

King Zhou's heart sank. He forcefully dug away an even larger clod of earth.

The scene before him chilled him to the bone.

Beneath the soil, swarming with newly hatched locust nymphs, the tiny, yellowish-brown insects crawled and huddled together, a sight that sent chills down one's spine. The scale of this was far greater than any locust plague precursor he had ever witnessed.

"Your Highness...it's all over...it's all over!"

An old farmer who was standing nearby collapsed to the ground with a thud, his voice hoarse and choked with sobs as he cried out.

"Locust God... this has sown the seeds of death! This is even more ferocious than the one in the second year of Chongzhen's reign! Once these things grow wings... they will cover the sky, what will be left in the ground!"

The old farmer's cries echoed across the empty fields, carrying a sense of despair.

King Zhou suddenly stood up, his face ashen.

He knew what this meant. A complete summer crop failure was a foregone conclusion. Yan'an Prefecture, and indeed the entire northern Shaanxi region, had already emptied its coffers last year, barely surviving thanks to the meager grain he had painstakingly procured and the "grain coupon" system. If the summer grain was lost, it would be utter catastrophe.

Cannibalism through exchanging children? That would be a widespread phenomenon, not an isolated case.

"Issue the order!" King Zhou's voice trembled slightly, but was more resolute. "All prefectures and counties, immediately organize the militia to swarm and kill the locusts! Dig deep trenches, burn them—use every method at your disposal!"

He paused, then took a deep breath of the cold air.

"Prepare the horses! We're going to Pingliang Prefecture to see the King of Han!"

Now, the only ones who can be relied upon are the vassal kings who still have grain in their hands. The fiefdom of Prince Han, Zhu Danji, in Pingliang Prefecture, was relatively less affected by the disaster and may still have some stored grain.

The Prince Han's Mansion in Pingliang Prefecture was much more orderly than the dilapidated one in Yan'an Prefecture.

King Zhu Danji of Han sat in the flower hall, holding a teacup and slowly blowing on it to warm it. He was older than King Zhou, slightly plump, and always had a half-smile on his face.

"Gongxiao, what brings you to my humble place of Pingliang?" King Han put down his teacup, his tone warm but his eyes shrewd.

King Zhou had no time for pleasantries and went straight to the point. A locust plague was ravaging northern Shaanxi, jeopardizing the summer harvest. He implored King Han to sell some of his stored grain for the sake of the royal family and the lives of millions.

"Oh dear!" King Han slapped his thigh, his face showing a look of deep sorrow and compassion. "Shaanxi has suffered such a calamity, how can I sit idly by? As for the grain, that's no problem, no problem!"

King Zhou had just breathed a sigh of relief when King Han changed the subject.

“But Gongxiao, as you know, grain prices fluctuate wildly these days. My household has thousands of people to feed… As for the market price…” he drawled, “shouldn’t it be increased by about 30%? I can’t let my uncle suffer too much loss, can I?”

King Zhou cursed inwardly, but maintained a calm expression: "As you wish, Uncle, raise it by thirty percent."

"Excellent!" King Han's smile widened. "There's another small matter that has been on my mind. My three good-for-nothing sons are not good at studying, but it's not good for them to always stay cooped up in the mansion. They just want to share the burden for the court and His Majesty."

He leaned closer and lowered his voice: "Look, could you put in a good word for them with His Majesty? Give them an official position, nothing too high, just a county magistrate will do! Don't worry, my family has plenty of money. They'll definitely be honest and upright officials and will never bring shame to the court!"

King Zhou was enraged. This was blatant extortion, selling official positions and titles while making it sound so noble!
But when he looked at the smiling face of the King of Han, and thought of the people in northern Shaanxi who were desperately waiting for food to survive, he swallowed his anger.

"Uncle, you are truly wise and righteous, I admire you!" King Zhou gritted his teeth and forced a smile. "The matter of purchasing grain shall be handled as you suggested. As for the future of my brothers, I will do my best to petition His Majesty! The court is in dire need of capable people right now, I am sure His Majesty will understand."

"Good! Good! It's settled then!" King Han leaned back in his chair, satisfied.

A deal fraught with helplessness and calculation was struck. King Zhou received a life-saving supply of grain, but also shouldered the heavy burden of seeking an official position for the son of the King of Han. He knew that this small amount of grain would be nothing more than a drop in the ocean in the face of the impending catastrophe.

Emerging from the Han Prince's residence, the Zhou Prince's mood grew even heavier. He sat on his horse, gazing northwest. Over there lay the Hetao region—the territory of Gao Yingxiang, Zhang Xianzhong, and their ilk.

Dealing with members of the royal family like the King of Han was already so difficult. Dealing with those bandits who lived on the edge of death was even more like trying to get something from a tiger.

But did he have a choice? Did the Ming Dynasty have a choice?
Upon returning to the Yan'an government office, Prince Zhou wrote two memorials overnight.

One was a memorial to the throne, which detailed the severity of the locust plague in northern Shaanxi, as well as his negotiations with the Prince of Han to purchase grain and to request an official position on behalf of the Prince's son. The wording was cautious, packaging the transaction as "the Prince of Han is a man of great righteousness, taking the initiative to sell grain, and his son is commendable for his loyalty. I earnestly request Your Majesty to appoint him to a suitable position."

The other document was a secret memorial. It truthfully recorded the entire process of the transaction with the King of Han, including details of price gouging and seeking official positions, and frankly stated that this action was out of desperation, requesting His Majesty's wise judgment. At the same time, he also reported in detail the previous "poisoned chalice" of exchanging people and limited iron and gunpowder for grain through Zhang Xianzhong. In the secret memorial, he wrote: "I know this is like raising a tiger to cause trouble, but the people of Shaanxi are starving, and their cries are piercing and heartbreaking. To save the lives at hand, I have no choice but to take this desperate measure. I will bear all the blame."

By the time he finished writing his memorial, it was already late at night. King Zhou walked into the courtyard, looked at the dark sky, and sighed deeply.

"Eating is the most important thing... Survival comes first, then there is the future."

While the Zhou king was struggling to hold out in Shaanxi, the situation was quite different in the Hetao region, thousands of miles away.

This place was no longer simply a bandit camp. On a relatively fertile stretch of land along the Yellow River, rows of simple but sturdy adobe houses appeared, and even cultivated farmland emerged. The clanging of blacksmiths could be heard coming from several newly built workshops.

In front of the largest tent, a campfire roared. The air was filled with the aroma of roasted mutton and mare's milk wine.

Gao Yingxiang, dressed in a brand-new robe, sat in the main seat. Beside him sat a magnificent Mongolian noblewoman with an extraordinary air—Nannang Dafujin, Namuzhong.

Surrounding them sat Gao Jie, Zhang Xianzhong, and other leaders, as well as some Mongol tribal leaders who had come to join them.

Today is the day Gao Yingxiang and his wife, Nangnang Dafujin, are officially married. The two are getting married because of pregnancy—not because she was pregnant, but because she had already given birth! The reason for the "pregnancy before marriage" is that the "child" is publicly claimed to be a "posthumous child"—the pregnancy took quite a while! This marriage signifies that the bandit forces in the Hetao region have merged with the remnants of the Southern Mongolian tribes.

"Gentlemen!" Gao Yingxiang raised his wine bowl, his voice booming, "From this day forward, we are one family! We will share both good times and bad!"

"Bottoms up!" The crowd responded in unison, downing the wine in their bowls in one gulp.

Zhang Xianzhong wiped the wine stains from his mouth and grinned, "Chief Gao, oh no, now I should call you the Golden Knife Prince Consort! We are now strong and well-equipped, and we have the fine horses and bows and arrows of our Mongol brothers. What are we afraid of, those damn government troops?"

Consort Nangnang was also a genuine daughter of the Golden Family, a descendant of Genghis Khan. Gao Yingxiang married her, so he was naturally called the "Golden Knife Prince Consort" or the "Yuan Prince Consort"!
Gao Jie chimed in, "Eighth Prince is right. However, we can't just think about robbing. The Hetao region is a good place; we need to manage it well. We need to quickly turn the iron and gunpowder we got from the Zhou King into weapons."

Nangnang Dafujin said in fluent Chinese, "That's right. Only with a solid foundation can we plan great things. There are still many of Ligdan Khan's followers scattered across the grasslands. As long as we establish a firm foothold, they will all come to join us."

The West Warm Pavilion of the Qianqing Palace in the Forbidden City.

Emperor Chongzhen sat behind his desk, his face as somber as the sky outside the window. Several memorials were laid out before him.

Xu Yingyuan and Yang Sichang stood at the lower end with their hands at their sides, not daring to utter a sound.

Emperor Chongzhen first picked up the memorial issued by Prince Zhou. As he looked at the words praising Prince Han for his "deep understanding of righteousness" and his son for his "commendable loyalty," his lips twitched, and a bitter smile appeared on his face.

The son of the King of Han wants to "advance" and become a county magistrate; it's not easy to arrange this!
However, Chongzhen knew that Prince Zhou had no other choice. Prince Han wasn't uncooperative; he had been given grain and had agreed to come to the capital to enjoy a life of luxury. It was only reasonable to make arrangements for his three sons. However, arranging a county magistrate position was difficult; a bodyguard position, though, would be a better option.
Next, he read the Prince of Zhou's secret report. When he saw the Prince of Zhou's detailed account of how he traded with Zhang Xianzhong, exchanging people, ironware, and gunpowder for grain, Chongzhen's hand trembled slightly, but he didn't say much.

Gao Yingxiang and his gang had stumbled upon a way to make a living by chance. They had taken over the Hetao reclamation area, where there was the potential to cultivate two to three million mu of fertile land, enough to support hundreds of thousands of people.

But when Gao Yingxiang actually became the "Gao family of the Hetao region with a million bushels of grain," would he still have the drive to rebel? Even if he did, he wouldn't have become a bandit.
"Your Majesty," Yang Sichang said cautiously, seeing that Chongzhen's expression had softened slightly, "the latest secret report from Liaodong."

"speak."

"Huang Taiji's methods in Korea became increasingly ruthless. His 'literary inquisition' not only killed people, but also confiscated their property and exterminated their families. He confiscated all the land owned by the academies and the properties of the Yangban nobles throughout Korea, turning them into government land and directly levying taxes on them."

Yang Sichang paused, his tone grave: "This move... while seemingly cruel, has greatly increased the Later Jin's tax revenue and weakened the resistance forces on the Korean mainland. Reportedly, ordinary Korean civilians, having been freed from layers of exploitation, have actually seen their burden lessened in the short term, and their resistance to Later Jin rule has weakened. Huang Taiji is using this opportunity to more efficiently train a new Korean army and collect provisions. The speed at which he has gathered manpower and resources far exceeds that of the past."

Wang Zaijin added: "There are also military reports from beyond the Great Wall that the bandits in the Hetao region have joined forces with the widow of Ligdan Khan, Nangnang Dafujin, and their power is growing rapidly, which may become a major threat to the Northwest."

One bad news after another followed. But Emperor Chongzhen remained calm—because he had encountered even worse situations before!

Just then, a eunuch from the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs quietly entered and presented a memorial.

"Your Majesty, Wu Weiye, the magistrate of Jingxi County, presents the planning outline for the Jingxi New Area."

Emperor Chongzhen took the planning outline and initially just flipped through it casually. But as he looked at it, his fingers tapping the table slowed, and his gaze fixed on it.
(End of this chapter)