Transmigrating to the Chongzhen Emperor of the Ming Dynasty: Becoming a Great Emperor Through Idlene

Emperor Chongzhen put down his pen, looked at the ink-stained pattern on the paper, and suddenly laughed.

Zhou Kui. Insatiable. But very useful.

Historically, when the city fell, this father-in-law of the emperor hid 500,000 taels of silver and refused to hand it over. Now, Emperor Chongzhen wanted him to "spit out" the money.

Of course, not through torture, but through methods that make him money.

Imperial merchants. Franchise rights. Monopolistic trade.

This is the first step.

He carefully collected the discarded drawings and laid out another sheet of paper. This time, he didn't draw the blast furnace; instead, he started drawing other things.

An organizational chart.

The emperor is at the very top.

The next level is divided into three branches: the civil service system, the inner court system, and the secret system.

The secret system is further divided into: intelligence, finance, technology, and military.

It's rough, but it can serve as a starting point.

The sky outside the window slowly brightened. It was already past midnight.

Emperor Chongzhen blew out the candle and lay back down on the bed. He needed rest, even if only for an hour. But even with his eyes closed, many thoughts were still churning in his mind.

What will Wen Tiren do? Will he really go all out to push for the construction of the three main halls? Or will he outwardly comply but inwardly resist?

Can Wang Chengen handle this matter of 40,000 taels of silver? Will he be discovered?

Could Empress Zhou manage the harem well? Are there any problems with the imperial physicians?

And who left that note? What was their purpose? A warning? A gesture of goodwill? Or another trap?

There are no answers to any of the questions.

Emperor Chongzhen opened his eyes in the darkness, gazing at the blurry outline of the tent ceiling.

He suddenly recalled a sentence from Li Wei's graduation thesis: "The tragedy of the Chongzhen era lies in the mismatch between the emperor's personal character and the historical trend. A monarch who strives to govern well is destined to achieve less with more effort in an era that requires a thorough revolution."

Now, he has arrived.

He no longer wanted to "work hard to improve the situation".

He wanted to carry out a complete revolution.

He could even play the role of a foolish monarch.

Dawn broke.

On the morning of the eighteenth day of the first lunar month, Beijing had a light snowfall. Although the snow was not heavy, it was very dense, like sifted flour, turning the glazed tiles of the Forbidden City into a mottled gray-white.

In the Qianqing Palace, Emperor Chongzhen had just taken his morning medicine when Wang Chengen came in to report, "Your Majesty, Lu Wenzhao, a centurion of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, has arrived and is waiting outside the palace for the imperial decree."

Lu Wenzhao.

The name jumped out of his memory. The original owner of the body, Zhu Youjian, did not have a deep impression of him. He only remembered that he was a mid-to-lower-ranking officer in the Embroidered Uniform Guard. He performed well in the battle outside the capital during the Jisi Incident, was injured, and took half a year to recover.

However, in Li Wei's memory, there was no more information about this person, or rather, no information at all.

According to historical records, Lu Wenzhao should have died in battle during the Jisi Incident. However, he did not die.

What does this mean? This person is either exceptionally good at fighting, exceptionally good at dodging, or... both.

"Announce it," Chongzhen said.

Wang Chengen went out to deliver the imperial decree. After a while, a middle-aged man wearing a flying fish robe and carrying an embroidered spring knife at his waist walked in. He was probably around thirty-five or thirty-six years old, not very tall, but very capable.

A scar runs from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, adding a touch of ferocity to his otherwise ordinary face. He walks with a slight limp in his right leg, a result of a previous injury.

"Your subject, Lu Wenzhao, a centurion of the Northern Garrison of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, pays his respects to Your Majesty!" His voice was loud and clear, with the crispness of a soldier.

"Rise." Emperor Chongzhen looked him over. "Raise your head."

Lu Wenzhao raised his head. His eyes were bright, like swords tempered in fire. But when he looked at the emperor, the sharpness subsided, replaced by only respect.

"Do you know why I summoned you?" Chongzhen asked.

"I do not know," Lu Wenzhao answered honestly, "but Your Majesty's summons must indicate that there is a use for me. I would gladly die for it."

These were beautiful words, but Emperor Chongzhen remained noncommittal. Anyone can say nice things; what he valued were concrete actions.

"I've heard that during the Jisi Incident, you fought valiantly against the Jurchen invaders in the suburbs of Beijing, sustaining more than a dozen knife wounds and personally killing seven people?" Emperor Chongzhen asked slowly. "Is this true?"

Lu Wenzhao was taken aback. He hadn't expected the emperor to remember such a trivial matter. In the Embroidered Uniform Guard system, a centurion was just a mid-level officer; above him were chiliarchs, vice commanders, deputy commanders, commanders, and so on. The emperor had many things to deal with every day; how could he possibly remember him?

"That is indeed true," he said, bowing his head. "But I dare not take credit. Many of my comrades died in battle; I was merely lucky to survive."

"Just lucky?" Chongzhen smiled. "I've seen the battle report. Your side had fifty men, and they encountered a Jurchen Niru (three hundred men). In the end, only you and a wounded captain were left. This isn't luck; it's skill."

Lu Wenzhao didn't speak, but he straightened his back even more.

"I also heard that after you recovered from your injuries, the Embroidered Uniform Guard wanted to promote you to the rank of commander of a thousand men, but you refused?" Chongzhen continued to ask.

"Yes." Lu Wenzhao's voice was a little hoarse: "Your subject... is not good at socializing, and I am afraid I will fail to live up to your superior's trust."

"Is it a lack of social skills, or a disdain for social interaction?" Chongzhen stared into his eyes. "I know what the Embroidered Uniform Guard is like now. They've lost much of their ability to arrest, imprison, and monitor officials, but their methods of lining their own pockets, forming cliques, and oppressing innocent people have become second nature. Someone like you must feel stifled inside, right?"

These words were so direct that Lu Wenzhao didn't know how to respond. He opened his mouth, but in the end, he only managed to utter two words: "Your subject... dares not."

"I dare not, it's not that I don't want to." Chongzhen stood up. But his body was still very weak, and he couldn't help but sway when he stood up, which startled Wang Chengen, who quickly tried to support him, but Chongzhen waved his hand to stop him.

He walked up to Lu Wenzhao. The two were so close that they could see every line on each other's faces.

"Lu Wenzhao, I summoned you here today not to promote you, nor to reward you for your achievements." Chongzhen's voice was low, but every word was clear: "I want you to do something that will cost you your head."

Lu Wenzhao's eyes narrowed slightly.

"How many people are there in the Embroidered Uniform Guard now?" Chongzhen asked.

"The registered number is 21,400, but the actual number... I dare not speak presumptuously."

"Let me tell you for you: there are 20,000 registered, but the actual number is probably less than 15,000. Seven or eight out of ten are ghost employees, the elderly, the infirm, the disabled, or just loafing around. The truly useful ones are no more than 3,000." Chongzhen sneered, "Even so, the court still has to spend 400,000 taels of silver every year."

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Lu Wenzhao's forehead. These words were taboo to speak in private, let alone spoken by the emperor himself.

"Therefore, I intend to abolish [the system]." Emperor Chongzhen said, emphasizing each word, "Reduce redundant personnel and streamline the organization. I entrust this matter to you."

Lu Wenzhao suddenly raised his head: "Your Majesty, I am merely a centurion, how could such a matter be so important..."

"I will grant you a title." Chongzhen returned to bed and took out a token from under his pillow. He had Wang Chengen forge it overnight using gold from the Imperial Treasury: "He is the Commander of the Northern Garrison of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, mainly responsible for reducing redundant staff and rectifying discipline. With this token, you can execute Embroidered Uniform Guard officials below the third rank without prior approval."

The golden token landed in Lu Wenzhao's hand; it felt heavy. Engraved on it were four characters: "As if the Emperor were personally present."

Lu Wenzhao's hands trembled. Not from fear, but from excitement. He was thirty-six years old this year, and had served in the Embroidered Uniform Guard for eighteen years, rising from a strongman to a centurion. He had witnessed too many dirty deeds and had been resentful for a long time. Now, the emperor had handed him the knife.

"Your Majesty..." His voice trembled, "Your subject... Your subject will certainly not fail Your Majesty's expectations!"

"Wait, I haven't finished yet." Chongzhen sat down, looked into his eyes, and continued, "The layoffs are the official thing. Secretly, I want you to do something else: select three hundred people from among those laid off. Not the slick ones, not the ones with connections, just those with the ability of you, but who have been sidelined and overlooked."

Lu Wenzhao was stunned: "What does His Majesty need these people for?"

"Establish a new government office." Chongzhen spoke slowly, making sure every word was imprinted in the other's mind: "This office will not belong to the Embroidered Uniform Guard, nor to the Eastern Depot, nor to any existing institution. It will belong solely to me. Its name will be 'Imperial City Guard.'"

"Imperial City Guard"

This name appeared in the Song Dynasty and belonged to the Imperial Guards. However, in the Ming Dynasty, it was a completely new name.

"The Imperial City Guard has three functions." Chongzhen held up three fingers: "First, to supervise all officials, not like the Embroidered Uniform Guard's overt supervision, but covert and ruthless surveillance. Second, to protect my safety, not like the Imperial Guards' perfunctory protection, but truly watertight protection. Third, to execute my secret decrees, no matter how illogical or... outrageous they may be."

The palace was deathly silent.

Lu Wenzhao knelt on the ground, the gold medal in his hand burning hot like a branding iron. He understood. He completely comprehended. The emperor wanted a knife that belonged entirely to him. This knife had to be sharp, well-concealed, and cold-blooded.

"The selection criteria," Chongzhen continued, "are as follows: First, a clean family background, not referring to birth, but rather the absence of complicated factional affiliations. Second, genuine skills, proficiency in at least one of the following: martial arts, tracking, espionage, or assassination. Third, secrecy. Once inside the Imperial City Guard, you will be my person in life and death. A single wrong word will not only lead to your own death, but your entire family will suffer as well."

Lu Wenzhao took a deep breath: "Your subject... understands."

"Good!" Chongzhen looked at him: "Lu Wenzhao, I know that if this matter is accomplished, you will become a thorn in the side of the entire court. I know this matter is very risky; a slight mistake could lead to utter ruin. So I'm giving you a chance: hand over the token now, walk out this gate, and you'll still be a centurion of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. I'll pretend today's events never happened. If you continue to hold onto this token..."

He paused.

"You are my shadow. There is no place for you in the light, and your name will not appear in the history books. Your deeds will be misunderstood and cursed. But I can guarantee one thing: as long as I live, as long as you are loyal, I cannot give you wealth and glory, but I can give you the highest dignity of a warrior: to die on the battlefield and be remembered in history."

Lu Wenzhao closed his eyes. Many images flashed before his eyes. Last year, in the outskirts of the capital, he watched his comrades being cut down one by one by the Jurchens, his own body covered in blood, his blade dulled from the blows.

Back in the city, his superior simply said "I know" and then went to a banquet hosted by a civil official. At that moment, he felt as if the blood he and his brothers had shed was worthless.

He opened his eyes, holding the gold medal in his hand, his head touching the ground: "Your subject, Lu Wenzhao, is willing to go through fire and water for your lord!"

The voice wasn't loud, but it was resolute.

"Very well!" Emperor Chongzhen nodded, then said, "You may leave. Submit a plan to me within three days. Ask Wang Chengen for any resources you need."

"I obey your decree!"

Lu Wenzhao stood up, bowed, and retreated as he left the palace.

When he left the palace gate, his back was very straight, and his slightly lame leg was not very noticeable.