The Ming Dynasty 1626 Enlightenment

Chapter 41 Yuan Chonghuan Demands Money, Carts, and Cannons

"I have compiled the methods of planting, cultivating, storing, and consuming sweet potatoes into a book called 'The Sweet Potato Classic,' which is richly illustrated and easy to understand. Even illiterate farmers can understand about 70-80% of it after reading the illustrations."

Xu Guangqi straightened up, his voice filled with barely suppressed excitement, and handed the booklet to the official beside him.

Several people took it and flipped through it, their expressions changing slightly.

It's really easy to understand—compared to those long, tedious treatises, these booklets with illustrations of vines, tubers, and mounds are practically like step-by-step instructions.

"Last year, I cultivated several acres of experimental fields at the foot of the Western Hills in western Beijing and planted sweet potatoes for a year. The yield per acre was thirty dan (a unit of weight)."

A buzzing sound filled the hall.

They know about this.

It was published in the Tianqi Daily of the Ming Dynasty, on the front page, with a large headline that made people envious.

Recently, many nobles and gentry in the capital have sent people to inquire about how to grow sweet potatoes, and the threshold of the Ministry of Revenue has been worn down by three inches.

However, Xu Guangqi remained tight-lipped, saying he would wait for His Majesty's decision.

Now, taking advantage of this opportunity, Zhu Ming directly established a separate department, promoted this veteran agricultural official, and gave him part of the editing rights of the Ming Tianqi Daily. In less than half a year, Xu Guangqi's name will resound throughout every prefecture and county of the Ming Dynasty, and a hundred years later, he will be remembered in history.

Thinking of this, many people were extremely anxious, after all, they were eager to make progress—who didn't want to become famous? Who didn't want to leave their mark on history?

But what do they have to offer for staying or leaving? They're full of Confucian classics and spout ancestral precepts and benevolence, but when they actually get to the fields, they can't even tell the difference between wheat seedlings and leeks.

"Thirty loads? Three thousand catties?" someone couldn't help but exclaim, their tone tinged with sarcasm. They tried to suppress it, "Lord Xu, didn't you say this was the optimal scenario?"

"Of course not!" Xu Guangqi's voice trembled slightly, clearly indicating his excitement. "If the planting method is correct, the seeds are of high quality, and the water and fertilizer are adequate, the yield per mu can be even higher, forty or fifty dan is not impossible."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the hall, and said slowly and deliberately, "Moreover, sweet potatoes are not picky about the land; they can be planted on hillsides, dry land, and sandy soil. They are not afraid of drought or barren soil. As long as the vines are planted in the soil and watered a few times, they will survive."

Forty dan (a unit of weight), four thousand jin (another unit of weight)? Fifty dan (a unit of weight), five thousand jin (another unit of weight)?

It can also be planted on arid, sandy hillsides.

The buzzing sound in the hall suddenly rose several notches.

This isn't about whether it's an auspicious or inauspicious omen—it's the beginning of a major upheaval.

For more than two hundred years since the founding of the Ming Dynasty, there have been natural disasters and droughts every year. Every time, there were countless deaths from starvation and a flood of refugees.

If these sweet potatoes can really resist drought and grow in barren soil, then what is there to fear about drought?

"Your Majesty is wise! Congratulations on this auspicious omen!" Wei Zhongxian chimed in, flattering him at the opportune moment. "Lord Xu truly deserves to be called a capable minister of our Great Ming."

Upon hearing this, all the civil and military officials in the hall had no choice but to offer some flattering words.

In an instant, cries of "Your Majesty is wise!" and "Lord Xu is a man of great talent!" rose and fell, like the croaking of frogs in summer, one wave louder than the next.

"Your Majesty is wise," said Cui Chengxiu, Vice Minister of Revenue, stepping forward and bowing slowly. "Ancestral rules cannot be abolished, nor can they be rigidly adhered to. Adapting to the times is the way to maintain the status quo."

Zhu Ming glanced at him and nodded.

The air in the hall tightened.

This person is quite sensible; he knows how to go with the flow.

His gaze swept across the hall again. "I know what you're all thinking!"

"Let me tell you, I don't have that kind of free time. What I want is for the locusts in Shandong to be controlled, the drought in Henan to be overcome, and for the people of Shaanxi to have enough to eat."

"Whoever can feed the people is my capable minister. Whoever only clings to ancestral rules and recites scriptures, avoids practical matters, and rushes to seek personal gain, I will not keep, no matter if he is from the Ministry of Revenue or the Censorate."

The hall was completely silent.

Even Wei Zhongxian stopped smiling and stood obediently.

Zhu Ming picked up his teacup and finished the last sip of cold tea.

"Xu Aiqing".

"Your subject is here."

"After returning, there are three things to do. First, I will condense the 'Memorial on Locust Control' into a thousand-character essay, add illustrations, and print it out in the June 15th issue of the 'Agricultural Administration' magazine, and send it to Shandong, Henan, and Southern Zhili."

"Secondly, the 'Sweet Potato Classic' will also be concise, with illustrations of planting vines and harvesting, and will be printed before the end of June."

"Third, I will give you three months to cultivate another 200 mu of experimental fields in the Western Hills to thoroughly test the planting method of sweet potatoes and find the highest yield. Next spring, I will promote it throughout Beizhili, Hebei, Shandong, and Henan."

"Your subject obeys the decree," Xu Guangqi said, bowing his head in gratitude.

Zhu Ming paused, his gaze falling on Xu Guangqi's graying hair, and his voice softened, "Minister Xu, thank you for your hard work!"

"Your Majesty, I will certainly not fail in your trust!" Xu Guangqi's eyes welled up with tears, his Adam's apple bobbed twice, and then he suddenly remembered something. He raised his head and said, "Your Majesty, I dare to ask..."

"Minister Xu, do not be hasty!" His gaze passed over him and landed on the front of the military officer ranks. His voice suddenly changed, "Then, let's talk about the Jurchens now!"

The air in the hall grew even colder.

"Gentlemen of the Ministry of War," Zhu Ming said, leaning back on his throne, his fingers tapping idly on the armrest, "aren't you going to come out and explain?"

Before he finished speaking, Dong Hanru, the Minister of War, had already stepped out from the ranks.

He was in his early fifties, not very tall, with a dark complexion from years of patrolling the border town.

Wearing a crimson official robe, he appeared particularly somber.

He walked slowly, each step feeling like he was stepping on cotton, lacking confidence.

"Your Majesty," Dong Hanru bowed, his voice hoarse.

Zhu Ming didn't tell him to get up or to drop the formalities; he just let him remain bowing.

"Speak. Let's start with Xuanfu."

Dong Hanru straightened up, pulled a report from his sleeve, his fingers trembling slightly, but his voice managed to stay steady.

"In early June, outside Xuanfu Town, about three hundred Jurchen cavalry plundered more than ten households of border residents, killed seven border soldiers, and stole more than twenty mules and horses."

He paused, his voice lowering even further, "General Hou Shilu of Xuanfu explained that due to the continuous heavy rain, he was unable to leave the city to engage in battle."

Zhu Ming was speechless. The border troops of the Ming Dynasty had become so decadent.

Dong Hanru kept his mouth shut and offered no explanation.

"I understand. Set aside the Xuanfu matter for now," Zhu Ming said, not dwelling on the issue. "And Liaodong? What did Yuan Chonghuan say? Why wasn't there any advance warning? Were his Liaodong soldiers incompetent?"

Dong Hanru's lips trembled slightly, as if he was hesitating whether to speak.

In the end, he pulled out another report, or rather a letter, from his sleeve.

"Yuan Chonghuan said that many cities along the Ningjin defense line were under repair and that not many people could be spared to deal with and monitor the Jurchen cavalry. Therefore, he also wrote a letter requesting funds."

How much do you want?

"...500,000 taels."

Gasps of astonishment filled the hall.

"Five hundred thousand taels?" Wei Zhongxian was the first to jump up. "Does Yuan Shikai think the court is a silver mine? The battle of Ningyuan is over, and the military pay was just issued not long ago. It should be able to last for another three months. Now he wants another five hundred thousand?"

Dong Hanru did not look at Wei Zhongxian, but kept his head down and continued to report: "Yuan Chonghuan made it clear in his letter that 100,000 taels were to be used to compensate the families of the fallen soldiers and guerrillas, 100,000 taels were to make up for the military pay owed over the years, and 300,000 taels were to be used to 'build cannons'."

The hall was silent for a moment, then a burst of discussion erupted.

"Furthermore, Yuan Chonghuan said he didn't want the new Ming Dynasty paper money, he only wanted silver!"

Cart and cannon?

You don't want the new Ming Dynasty banknotes?!

Yuan Chonghuan, oh Yuan Chonghuan, you really were a genius!

Zhu Ming was speechless. They wanted money and did it with such a self-righteous attitude!

He was about to speak when suddenly—

The gold bricks beneath his feet began to tremble, and the teacups on the imperial desk jingled and jumped up, spilling unfinished tea all over the table.

Zhu Ming suddenly grabbed the edge of the imperial desk to steady himself.

A thought flashed through his mind: the Wanggongchang explosion on the sixth day of the fifth month of the sixth year of the Tianqi reign (1626) was the biggest disaster in the capital, but it had been safely weathered.

It is now the fifth day of the sixth month of the sixth year of the Tianqi reign (1626), and the historical earthquake in Lingqiu, Shanxi, has arrived as scheduled...