Volume One, Chapter 21: Fearless of Death?

Zhu Youjian continued to inspect the battlefield. At every stop, soldiers saluted him.

“Seal off all those weapons and armaments,” he ordered. “They will be needed during the interrogations.”

The soldiers immediately sprang into action.

“Your Majesty,” Wei Zhiren approached, “should we—”

“No need to say more,” Zhu Youjian waved his hand. “I know you are all worried. But these matters must be handled personally by me.”

He resumed his careful survey of the battlefield, missing no detail.

As the sun gradually set in the west, it cast a blood-red hue over the field. Standing on high ground, Zhu Youjian observed everything.

“Clean it thoroughly,” he commanded. “Leave no trace behind.”

The soldiers hastened their efforts.

Cao Huachun stood aside, watching the busy scene. He knew this new emperor was more terrifying than anyone could have imagined.

“Go prepare,” Zhu Youjian said calmly. “There are even more important matters to attend to tomorrow.”

Wei Zhiren bowed deeply. “I will arrange it at once.”

Zhu Youjian sat upon the Dragon Throne in the Palace of Heavenly Purity, his gaze fixed beyond the hall. Night had deepened; the candle flames flickered within.

He rose and slowly approached the large map of the Ming Empire hanging on the wall. His finger traced slowly over the Jiangnan region, a glint of sharpness flashing in his eyes.

“The Jiangnan gentry are deeply entrenched,” he murmured to himself. “Force alone cannot eradicate them. To uproot these parasites completely, one must strike at the root.”

He moved to his desk and opened a memorial recently delivered—a detailed report on Jiangnan’s tax revenues.

“Salt tax, silk, tea…” Zhu Youjian scrutinized the figures. “These are their lifeblood.”

Setting the report down, he picked up another ledger, densely recording the genealogies and relationships of prominent gentry families.

“These great clans, outwardly righteous and proper, but secretly…” he sneered coldly. “I want to see how long they can still thrive once these assets are gone.”

Wang Cheng’en stood nearby, pouring tea. “Your Majesty, would you like to rest first?”

“No need,” Zhu Youjian waved him off. “Bring me the roster of the Donglin Party members.”

Wang Cheng’en quickly fetched a thick volume. Zhu Youjian leafed through it carefully, each page detailing the identities of the Donglin faction.

“This Huang Daozhou…” His finger paused on one name. “He wields the greatest influence in Jiangnan.”

He continued marking certain names—a list of those requiring close scrutiny.

“Bring the secret reports from the Jinyiwei,” he ordered.

“I see,” he said with a cold smile. “These people really know how to scheme.”

He set aside the reports and walked to the window. Moonlight spilled onto the palace walls, casting a silvery glow.

“Issue my decree,” he suddenly spoke. “From this day forth, reform the salt administration.”

“Your Majesty is wise,” Wang Cheng’en bowed respectfully.

---

Zhu Youjian continued, “Also, order the Jiangnan textile workshops to cease operations for three months, citing an audit of their accounts.”

Wang Cheng’en nodded knowingly. “I will arrange it immediately.”

Zhu Youjian returned to his desk, taking up another memorial from the Ministry of War—a detailed inventory of military supplies.

“These arms…” he studied the numbers intently. “Enough to equip an elite division.”

He set the memorial down, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk. “The Jiangnan navy must be restructured as well.”

“Your Majesty means…” Wang Cheng’en asked cautiously.

“Zheng Zhilong has long coveted an official post from the court,” Zhu Youjian said.

Wang’s eyes brightened. “Your Majesty intends to…”

“Send him a message,” Zhu Youjian said coolly. “Tell him I am considering appointing him as Admiral of the Navy.”

“I understand,” Wang Cheng’en bowed and withdrew.

Zhu Youjian resumed perusing memorials. Behind each was a hidden secret.

He picked up another list, this one of merchants from various regions. Many had intricate ties to the Jiangnan gentry.

“Commercial taxes…” he pondered. “They too require thorough reexamination.”

He returned to the map, his gaze drifting among the prefectures. Each locale concealed a tangled web of vested interests.

“The imperial examinations…” he suddenly declared, “must be overhauled.”

For years, the Jiangnan gentry had monopolized the exams and controlled official appointments. This had to change.

Taking up his vermilion brush, he made a note on a memorial: “Effective immediately, reform the examination system. Focus on rigorously verifying the qualifications of Jiangnan candidates.”

Zhu Youjian laid down the brush, eyes fixed on the documents before him—these were his weapons.

“Bring the secret reports from the Eastern Depot,” he ordered again.

These contained intelligence on local officials in Jiangnan.

“Interesting,” he sneered. “These people truly have audacity.”

He rose and went to the window. The distant moonlight bathed the palace walls in silver.

“Your Majesty,” Wang Cheng’en whispered, “would you like to rest now?”

“No need,” Zhu Youjian dismissed him. “Bring the personnel roster of the Jinyiwei.”

He intended to thoroughly investigate who among them could be trusted.

Returning to the Dragon Throne, Zhu Youjian examined the roster carefully, determined to understand each person’s background and record.

“These individuals…” he marked certain names. “Can be relied upon.”

Setting the roster aside, he took up another memorial—this one a report on the garrisons stationed throughout Jiangnan.

“The military…” he mused. “Must be redeployed.”

---

Zhu Youjian stood and approached the map once more. His finger roamed across Jiangnan, as if plotting a grand strategy.

“Bring the memorials from the Ministry of War,” he instructed.

Wang Cheng’en handed him a document, which he unfolded and studied closely.

“Troop movements…” he murmured, “timing is everything.”

He set the memorial down and moved back to the window. Moonlight shimmered on his imperial robes, casting a golden radiance.

“Your Majesty,” Wang Cheng’en ventured again, “shall we—”

“Bring the confessions of the captives,” Zhu Youjian interrupted.

Wang quickly retrieved a stack of documents. Zhu Youjian scrutinized them, nodding occasionally.

“I see,” he said with a cold smile. “These people have revealed quite a lot.”

He set the confessions down and picked up a secret report on Jiangnan’s commercial establishments.

“Trade routes…” he pondered. “They too must be reorganized.”

Returning to his desk, he wrote an edict with his vermilion brush: “Effective immediately, reform the trade routes in Jiangnan. Focus on verifying the qualifications of salt and silk merchants.”

He laid down the brush and looked over the memorials—these were his pieces on the chessboard.

“Bring the inventory list of seized goods,” he ordered.

Wang Cheng’en handed him a thick volume. Zhu Youjian flipped through it carefully.

Each page detailed the items confiscated.

“These assets…” he sneered, “are their very evidence of guilt.”

Zhu Youjian rose and went to the map again. His eyes drifted across Jiangnan, deep in thought.

“Bring the secret reports from the Eastern Depot,” he ordered once more.

Wang Cheng’en produced a sealed document. Zhu Youjian opened it and read carefully.

It contained the latest intelligence on Jiangnan’s movements.

“Interesting,” he sneered. “These people are still struggling desperately.”

Returning to the Dragon Throne, he tapped the armrest lightly, contemplating his next move.

“Bring the intelligence from the Jinyiwei,” he said.

Wang Cheng’en handed over another sealed report, which Zhu Youjian opened and examined closely.

“This explains much,” he said with a cold smile. “These people truly have no fear of death.”