Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 314 Sever their roots, destroy their temple, extinguish their delusions, cut off their sinister hands, and shatter their kneecaps.
It was already mid-autumn, and the entire city of Jinling seemed to be immersed in a jar of lightly sweet osmanthus wine. Even the wind smelled fragrant, making one's bones feel weak.

However, this sweet and cloying fragrance seemed to be guarded by a thousand troops, and could not penetrate into the Wuying Hall deep in the Ming Palace.

Behind the main hall, a small, warm pavilion served as a secluded haven, isolated from the world's hustle and bustle.

In the very center, on the enormous rosewood throne carved with dragons, sat the current emperor, Zhu Youjian, standing regally.

Those deep, unfathomable eyes slowly swept over the two high-ranking officials below, as if examining two ancient artifacts newly unearthed from the ground: one was hard pottery from Qin Chuan, and the other was fine porcelain from Jiangnan.

Then, the emperor picked up a scroll of memorials and saw that the bright yellow silk cover indicated it was a secret military report from the nine border regions of Liaodong.

He was extremely focused, his long, strong fingers gripping the edge of the paper, motionless, as if he were lost in thought, completely forgetting that two young regional officials were waiting in the warm pavilion.

This silent stillness only made one's insides clench tighter.

Two people sat on the two official hat chairs beneath the throne, one on each side.

The man on the left is Sun Chuanting, who has just been appointed Governor of Yingtian.

He was a bit older, and perhaps because he had spent many years traveling in the harsh and cold northwest, his thin face bore the marks of time. Only his sword-like eyebrows, which slanted into his temples, remained like unsheathed swords, exuding an unyielding and stubborn integrity.

Sun Chuanting's breathing was extremely slow and long. If it weren't for the occasional barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, one would really think he was a stone statue of a deity that had been brought into a temple.

The man on the right is Hong Chengchou, who was urgently summoned from his post as governor of Zhejiang.

He was a few years younger than Sun Chuanting. His beard was neatly trimmed, with each hair clearly visible. Paired with his brand-new official robe with peacock embroidered patches, he appeared extremely refined, already possessing the elegant demeanor of a Jiangnan scholar.

However, upon closer inspection, one would notice that a sharp and piercing light would occasionally flash in his slightly upturned eyes. That light was fleeting, as quick as the eyes of a night owl, revealing a ruthlessness that was completely different from his gentle appearance.

At this moment, Hong Chengchou was also sitting upright, his whole body as straight as if an invisible iron skewer had pierced from his tailbone to the back of his head.

In truth, a sense of unease was churning within Hong Chengchou's heart.

While he was serving in Zhejiang, he had been spreading his new policies so vigorously that they were about to become a raging fire.

Suddenly, the Emperor issued a secret edict that no one else could understand, summoning him to Nanjing for an audience, saying that he had something to ask him in person.

It has been more than two months since he received the seal of the Governor of Zhejiang.

For more than two months, His Majesty on the throne did not issue a single decree or edict, as if he, Hong Chengchou, and the prosperous and wealthy region of Zhejiang had been completely forgotten.

Hong Chengchou had been tormented in the scalding oil pot of officialdom for quite some time, so how could he not understand that this was by no means a forgetting, but rather the highest trust given by the emperor, as well as the most rigorous test?

In the past two months, his every move and word has probably been recorded in the files of those all-pervasive secret agents and sent to the emperor like snowflakes, awaiting the emperor's final judgment.

Hong Chengchou was certain that the emperor's return to the north was imminent, so this strangely fragrant warm room would be the final test that would determine his fate!

If successful, she will be favored by the emperor and rise rapidly in rank; a seat in the cabinet may even be within her reach. If she fails, her future will be uncertain, and she may be relegated to obscurity.

The air inside the warm room was so heavy it felt like it could be squeezed dry.

Hong Chengchou knew he couldn't just sit there doing nothing any longer.

This silence is the most powerful weapon in the emperor's hands, sharper than swords. If he is overwhelmed by this silence, he will be defeated before the battle even begins, losing three-tenths of his momentum.

Thinking of this, Hong Chengchou steeled his resolve, and his unique fierce courage suddenly surged up.

He slowly rose from the official's chair that seemed to suck him in, straightened his layered robe sleeves, and bowed deeply to the blurry figure on the throne, his knees touching the ground. He said in a deep voice, "Your Majesty, I, Hong Chengchou, have been entrusted with the imperial favor and have been inspecting Zhejiang for over two months. During this time, I have worked tirelessly day and night, daring not to slacken for a single day. Today, I have been summoned here to report to Your Majesty on the progress of the new policies in Zhejiang. I... dare to say that to secure Zhejiang, we must first... establish our authority!"

His voice was initially a little strained, but it suddenly became firm when he said the last four words.

Upon hearing this, Sun Chuanting's stone-like eyelids twitched slightly, as if disturbed by the sound, but he still kept his head down and did not speak. However, the hand gripping his knee seemed to tighten a little.

On his throne, Zhu Youjian seemed to have just detached himself from the flesh-and-blood world constructed by the memorial from Liaodong.

He slowly placed the scroll of yellow silk memorial on a corner of the imperial desk, raised his eyes, looked directly at Hong Chengchou, said nothing, but nodded slightly and gestured for him to continue.

There was not a single word of praise, nor a single question.

This pure, almost blank listening posture put unprecedented pressure on Hong Chengchou, as if any embellishment would only appear ridiculous and laughable under the gaze of such eyes, like clown paint.

He must produce the most solid, the coldest, and the most irrefutable political achievements to fill the bottomless expectations deep in the emperor's heart.

Hong Chengchou took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and straightened his back even more.

Without the slightest hesitation, he got straight to the point.

"Your Majesty, the first task I undertook after arriving in Zhejiang was to investigate and determine land taxes. However, the Jiangnan region is different from other places. The deep-rooted problems are like a festering sore, so deep that the bone is visible. The gentry and wealthy families are deeply entrenched, and their clans and relatives are intertwined. The practices of land leasing, fraudulent registration, and concealment are more than ten times worse than in Qin and Jin!"
If we proceed step by step, following old practices, and conduct a door-to-door survey, not only will it be a protracted process, potentially taking three to five years to yield results, but we will also inevitably be taken advantage of by those slippery, slippery officials who will manipulate things at every level, creating obstacles and ultimately achieving nothing while leaving us with a bad reputation.

"Therefore, I have established 'land survey teams' in all prefectures and counties of Zhejiang. These offices are not under the jurisdiction of the Provincial Administration Commission, nor the Provincial Surveillance Commission, and are not subject to the constraints of local prefectures and counties. All personnel are personally selected by me. Anyone who dares to obstruct, collude, or incite others, regardless of whether they are scholars, farmers, artisans, or merchants, will be treated as an opponent of the new policies and an threat to the foundation of the nation, and will be executed first and reported later!"

He paused, seemingly savoring the stench of blood, his tone growing increasingly cold, like the tip of a tongue licking a blade in winter:

"The Chen family of Haining County, Jiaxing Prefecture, is one of the most prominent families in the area. Two prefects have served in the family, and their students and former officials are all over Zhejiang. During this land survey, the family is quite discerning and does not dare to openly resist like those ignorant fools."

But behind the scenes, they instigated their clansmen, farmhands, and tenants to engage in underhanded activities. They would lie about acreage, calling a hundred acres of fertile land ten acres of barren land; they would misrepresent their own paddy fields as a neighbor's barren hill; and some even dared to secretly provoke and threaten the families of members of the land survey team…

"Upon receiving the report, I did not utter a single word to the local officials. That very night, I personally led three hundred iron cavalry from the Fu Biao Battalion and surrounded the Chen Clan Ancestral Hall and the several mansions of the head of the family in one night, making it as solid as an iron barrel, so that not even a fly could escape."

The next morning at dawn, in front of the gentry and common people who had come from all over the county to watch the spectacle, I ordered the tall and imposing ancestral hall archway to be torn down on the spot! Those in charge, regardless of age, were all dragged from their homes, their heads covered with white cloths and their necks chained, and displayed in the street as a warning to all!

"After an all-night interrogation, it was discovered that the clan had concealed a staggering 3,120 mu of 'hidden land' and 'falsely registered land' over several generations! I hereby, in accordance with Your Majesty's decree of the 'Regulations on the Declaration, Punishment, and Reward of Land,' confiscate all of their hidden land and confiscate it. The ringleader is to be exiled to Liaodong to live among the savages of that frozen wasteland. All members of their clan, regardless of whether they are legitimate or illegitimate, are barred from taking the imperial examinations for three generations, extinguishing their hopes of studying and becoming officials!"
This thunderous strike was like a sharp blade piercing the heart. This precedent shook the entire Zhejiang province, chilling the hearts of the people. Within three days, throughout Jiaxing Prefecture, those gentry who had been disdainful just yesterday were now scrambling and crowding to the government offices to declare their hidden land and pay back taxes owed over the years—a total of over 17,000 households. The stone slabs in front of the government office were almost worn through. The scene was truly magnificent; overnight, the world had been transformed.

At this point, Hong Chengchou seemed to remember something, and took out a beautifully bound, thick account book from his wide robe sleeves. The cover was made of the finest Huzhou blue satin.

He held it with both hands, bowed, and said, "This is the complete book I have compiled. All the figures are accurate to the smallest detail. Please review it, Your Majesty."

Wang Chengen, who had been standing by with his hands at his sides, seemingly nonexistent, received a glance from the emperor and hurriedly stepped forward with small, careful steps to take the account book, then gently placed it on the imperial desk.

Hong Chengchou slowly straightened up and continued to report: "Your Majesty, as of the day before I left Zhejiang for the capital, a total of 823,000 mu of various hidden farmland has been cleared out in all eleven prefectures of Zhejiang. I and the officials have carefully calculated that this alone is expected to increase the tax revenue of the court by more than 500,000 taels of silver each year!"
I know that after this action, the gentry of Zhejiang will regard me as a venomous enemy, and countless people will privately curse me as "the butcher Hong" and "the governor who confiscated property".

However, if the national treasury is not full, the new policies will have no foundation; if the military pay cannot be sustained, the borders will be insecure; and Your Majesty's grand vision of reviving the Ming Dynasty is nothing but a mirage, a pie in the sky.

For the sake of the nation's long-term stability, I dare not cherish my own reputation, much less care about the infamy that everyone scorns!

His words were spoken with unwavering resolve and conviction, each word carrying a heavy, bloody undertone.

Sun Chuanting, who had been silent as if lost in thought, frowned deeply when he heard the seemingly magical numbers "820,000 mu" and "500,000 taels." His thin face was so furrowed that it looked as if a fly could be trapped between his brows.

No sooner had Hong Chengchou finished speaking, his voice filled with murderous intent, than he could no longer contain himself. He abruptly turned around, his eyes now flashing with lightning speed. “Brother Heng Jiu!” Sun Chuanting’s voice was deep and serious, like a boulder thrown into a deep pool, instantly shattering the terrifying atmosphere that Hong Chengchou had carefully created. “If I may be so bold as to ask, are you truly healing Zhejiang by scraping away the poison from its bones, or are you burying dry tinder everywhere, waiting for just one spark to ignite a raging inferno?”

"Oh?" Upon hearing this, Hong Chengchou raised an eyebrow slightly, slowly turned around, and faced Sun Chuanting. A faint smile appeared on his fair and refined face, but the smile was cold and did not reach his unfathomable eyes.

Sun Chuanting completely ignored his eerie smile and continued speaking, his voice carrying the desolation and weight of the Loess Plateau:

"Zhejiang is different from Shaanxi, which you and I are familiar with. There, the people are poor and the land is barren. All they ask for is a full stomach, so they yearn for stability. Here, however, it is a land of fish and rice, with a flourishing literary culture. Over thousands of years, the people have become wealthy and proud, and the scholars are elegant and value their reputation above all else. Your ruthless methods, which indiscriminately push all the gentry to the opposite side of the court, may be a quick fix and have a temporary effect."

But have you ever considered that if they harbor resentment from then on, they might bury that seed of discontent deep within the darkest corner of their hearts like a ghost?

In government offices, they responded passively, outwardly complying while secretly obstructing progress; in rural areas, they spread rumors, fabricating all sorts of scandalous stories to undermine public morale; even when the nation was in peril, they rallied the people, inciting uprisings… At that point, even if Zhejiang didn't become a scene of widespread rebellion, it would likely have turned into a quagmire, with no way to escape. How would you then handle the situation?”

Sun Chuanting paused, his tone becoming even more somber. His words were not mere speculation, but based on personal experience:
"The way to pacify the people lies in a combination of kindness and severity, not just resorting to violence. I sensed this undercurrent when I was in Yingtian. Those gentry and wealthy families are like a spider web; pulling one thread affects the whole situation."

While there are certainly corrupt officials among them, there are also patriots who cherish their homeland and are willing to serve the court, as well as a large number of law-abiding citizens. If we only know how to raise the butcher's knife, we may not be able to kill them all, and instead, we will drive all those who could have been won over and appeased to the opposite side! At that time, there will be far too many people! Too many for either of us to kill!

The atmosphere inside the warm pavilion instantly became tense and confrontational.

This was no longer a simple government report, but rather two completely different approaches to governance, like two giant pythons, beginning a bloody struggle within this small, warm pavilion.

The emperor on the throne is both the final prey and the final judge.

Faced with Sun Chuanting's questioning, which was full of worry, Hong Chengchou remained calm and composed, and even the faint smile on his face did not fade.

He bowed slightly to Sun Chuanting, his posture elegant and standard, as if he were engaged in a debate at a literary gathering, but the words he uttered were sharp and uncompromising, like needles clashing against wheat awns, each word cutting to the bone.

“I cannot agree with what Boya said.” He spoke slowly, his voice still terrifyingly calm. “May I ask, Brother Boya, what is meant by ‘pacifying the people’? For those law-abiding, hardworking, and virtuous people, the court’s policies should be like a spring breeze and rain, nourishing them silently, so that they may feel as if they are bathed in divine grace.”

But for those so-called "gentry" who entrenched themselves in the countryside, posing as "local worthies" while in reality colluding with officials, oppressing their neighbors, undermining the court, and disregarding the law, any leniency shown would be cruelty to the good people and ruthless indulgence of His Majesty's new policies!

"They are precisely the core of the 'quagmire' that Brother Boya mentioned! They are the biggest, most stubborn, and most slippery stumbling block on His Majesty's path to sweeping away the world and restoring the Ming Dynasty!"

"Brother Boya, I have also considered the possibility of 'inciting a popular uprising,' which you just mentioned. However, what is the foundation of any popular uprising? I believe it lies in nothing more than 'village council' and 'clan' matters. One person raises his arm, and a hundred echo him. What does he rely on? He relies on the deep-rooted clan power and the seemingly fair reputation of the village council. If we want to cut off the fuel supply, we must first cut off the root and destroy the temple!"

His gaze was intense, like two will-o'-the-wisps staring directly at Sun Chuanting: "The Ye family of Xiaoshan in Hangzhou Prefecture, whose ancestor was the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel in the previous dynasty, has disciples and former officials all over Jiangnan, and their network of connections is unfathomable. Although no one is now in the court, the clan has hundreds of members and tens of thousands of acres of fertile land. In the local area, the word of their clan leader is sometimes more powerful than the official seal of the prefect.

The imperial court's policy of purchasing grain at official prices to aid disaster victims was a perfectly just and proper act. However, this man, believing himself to be powerful enough, dared to openly gather a crowd in the ornately decorated ancestral hall to criticize the official prices, discuss countermeasures, and attempt to unite with wealthy local families to resist the imperial decree and prevent the government from collecting a single grain of rice!

"Upon receiving the report, before his so-called 'village council' could even come to a conclusion, I personally led the Fubiao Battalion, following the example of the Chen family of Haining, to seal off their ancestral hall! The seventeen clan leaders and heads of branches were arrested on charges of 'gathering a crowd to plot rebellion and criticizing state affairs'!"
Your Majesty, I want all the people of Zhejiang to open their self-righteous eyes and see clearly—on the territory of my Great Ming Dynasty, especially in this land of Zhejiang, there is no such thing as 'the law does not punish the masses,' only 'the law is as firm as a furnace' under the emperor's feet, and whoever violates it will die!

There are no local opinions or bargaining mechanisms to negotiate with, only imperial decrees that must be obeyed!
"As long as we cut off the head of the ringleader and hang it on the city wall for all to see, the rest of the so-called rabble will be nothing but a pile of loose sand, and they'll scatter on their own without even a breeze."

Upon hearing this, Sun Chuanting slowly shook his head.

He wasn't angry; instead, a heavy expression appeared on his lean face. He took a deep breath, as if to exhale the pent-up anger in his chest, and said in a deep voice, "Heng Jiu, you..."

His voice was filled with deep worry and exhaustion, as if he had already witnessed the impending bloodbath.

“I know your methods are ruthless, but your intentions are commendable, all for the sake of the nation. However, Shaanxi is Shaanxi, and Jiangnan is Jiangnan. In Shaanxi, nine out of ten houses are empty, and all the people want is to survive. If you give them peace, you will be their second parents. The officials and gentry are rotten to the core; without taking drastic measures, there is no way to govern. This is the use of harsh measures in chaotic times!”

“But Jiangnan is different!” Sun Chuanting’s voice suddenly rose for a moment, then fell back down, becoming increasingly heavy. “Although there are deep-seated problems here, the literary atmosphere is flourishing, the people are rich and proud, and the scholar-official class is deeply entrenched, where a single move affects the whole situation. Today, your thunderous force has indeed achieved remarkable results, with orders being strictly enforced, and the figures in the accounts are indeed dazzlingly impressive.”

But if this continues, officials and the people will grow increasingly distant, and scholars and commoners will harbor deep resentment. There will be no more respect or affection between superiors and subordinates, only a chilling fear. This invisible and intangible resentment, like a lurking venomous snake, will eventually, if suppressed for too long, turn against you in a more terrifying way, and by then, it will be too late for regrets.

"The way of governing is ultimately like controlling floods. Yu the Great controlled the floods by dredging rather than blocking them. The same applies to the human heart. In Shaanxi, the dikes have already breached everywhere, and the only solution is to reopen the waterways at any cost. But the waters of Jiangnan, though turbid, still have their dikes. If you forcibly block this undercurrent today, when the dikes break down one day, the ferocity will far surpass the calamity in the north."

"Educating the people, making them know propriety and righteousness, understand shame and honor, and be grateful for the emperor's grace, so that they may wholeheartedly identify with the court, is the foundation for long-term stability in this peaceful land, not mere intimidation. Today, you may feel momentarily satisfied by destroying the prestige of their clan with an iron fist, but who will maintain order in the future, such as weddings and funerals, neighborhood disputes, and the repair of bridges and roads? Must the government handle every matter, big or small? How many officials would that require? How can the current dynasty afford to support a million such corrupt officials?"

Sun Chuanting's heartfelt words to Hong Chengchou were not entirely motivated by a desire to outdo him in front of the emperor.

Firstly, the two had worked together in Shaanxi in their early years. Although they sometimes had political disagreements, they had also gone through bloodshed together and knew each other well. They could be considered old comrades-in-arms from the war. Secondly, and more importantly, when Sun Chuanting was appointed governor of Yingtian Prefecture, he used a policy of appeasement that was completely opposite to that of Hong Chengchou.

Today, one is wielding a butcher's knife in Zhejiang, while the other is spreading warmth in Yingtian.

These two completely different methods were like two mirrors placed before the emperor.

Sun Chuanting's words today were not only a warning to Hong Chengchou, this wild horse that had already broken free of its reins, but also a defense of his own policies for governing the country.

This brought their differences to the forefront.

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Hong Chengchou let out a very soft, cold laugh, a laugh that pierced the eardrums like an ice needle in the silence.

"The order of the village is maintained by the laws and officials of our Great Ming Dynasty. Why should we need these hypocritical and treacherous local gentry to do it for us?"

He retorted bluntly, his words bordering on personal attacks.

"Brother Boya's 'education' might be of some use to those northern refugees who are poorly clothed and starving. If you give them a bite to eat, they will recognize you as a benevolent ruler and will even build a shrine for you."

But these Jiangnan gentry, who spout Confucian classics but whose minds are filled with nothing but the business acumen of money, will only take your attempts at moral education as weakness and vulnerability. They'll turn around and, with their advisors and concubines, devise a hundred ways to scheme against you and embezzle public funds!

"To these people," Hong Chengchou's voice rose, his eyes, which had previously concealed a sharp glint, now blazed with a terrifying light, "we must first use swift and decisive measures to shatter their delusions, cut off their sinister hands, and break their kneecaps, so that they know fear, know dread, and know that the ruler of this land is none other than the Zhu family, not themselves! Only then can we discuss other matters with them, only then can we talk about any vague and ethereal education and guidance! Otherwise, it is all empty talk! It would be the greatest disloyalty to His Majesty and to the Ming Dynasty!"

A heated exchange ensued, with each side going back and forth.

One advocates "guidance and education" for long-term stability, like spring rain nourishing the fields; the other insists on "high pressure and deterrence" for immediate results, like a raging fire spreading across the plains.

The two held sharply contrasting views, neither willing to yield an inch.

The air inside the warm pavilion seemed to have been completely drained and solidified during their heated exchange, so tense that it looked like it was about to explode at any moment.

As soon as they finished speaking, both of them turned their gazes to the supreme throne as if they were two tamed falcons, awaiting their master's final judgment.

However, to their surprise, Zhu Youjian on the throne still had the same expression on his young face, as if the thrilling debate just now was nothing more than the chirping of two crickets outside the window.

The emperor gracefully picked up the cup of tea that had long since gone cold from the imperial table, brought it to his lips, and took a small sip.

The icy tea slid down his throat, and he seemed unaware of its coldness; his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and that was all.

He didn't say a word the whole time.

His face was expressionless, showing neither approval of Hong Chengchou's bloody decisiveness and ruthlessness, nor support for Sun Chuanting's humane and steady approach.

This unspoken silence carries more weight than any judgment, and sends chills down one's spine.

Just moments ago, Sun Chuanting and Hong Chengchou were engaged in a heated debate, their spirits soaring high. At the same moment, their hearts tightened.

(End of this chapter)