Chapter Thirty-Two: The Ultimate Lineup

The Imperial Palace, Morning Court.

Duke Yang noticed that today’s morning court felt deeply unusual. Representing the interests of the noble families and the civil officials, he attended these sessions daily to engage in the persistent struggle between the civil and military factions. However, no one expected this: Yan Shifan, the Senior Grand Secretary who held multiple key positions including Minister of the Secretariat and Chief Secretary, had suddenly appeared. Zhao Rufeng, the Chancellor—who also held the titles of Attendant, Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince, and various other secretarial roles—was also present.

Both men notoriously disliked the civil-military infighting and had been on medical leave. Usually, they would only return sequentially after the dust of these disputes had settled. Yet, here they were, back ahead of schedule. Furthermore, on the military side, both the venerable General Xue, Duke of Yi, and General Ma, Duke of Zheng, were in attendance. The Duke of Yi was one of the few strategists among the military ranks, serving as the Right Deputy Director of the Secretariat and overseeing the Ministries of War, Works, and Justice. But what could have prompted the sudden appearance of the Duke of Zheng?

Even the lesser civil and military officials were all present. It seemed that, regardless of what they were doing, they had received some sort of notice that attendance today was mandatory. It was no exaggeration to say that such a high-caliber assembly had not been seen in the imperial court for many years.

At this moment, Duke Yang, Yan Shifan, and Zhao Rufeng stood side-by-side in the first row of civil officials.

"Chancellor Zhao, could you perhaps disclose some specifics?" Yan Shifan whispered. His old eyes appeared dim, yet a sharp glint flickered within them.

Zhao Rufeng, calm and collected, kept his eyes fixed on the dragon throne, waiting for the Emperor. Without turning his head, he replied coolly, "Minister of the Secretariat, I do not understand what you are asking."

Yan Shifan ceased his questioning. That was simply how Zhao Rufeng was; he would never reveal anything based on personal relations. Duke Yang asked nothing and simply listened. Though he appeared composed, he felt a deep sense of foreboding. The many civil and military officials felt the same—a palpable sense of unease. The lineup today was simply too formidable: Chancellor Zhao Rufeng, Senior Grand Secretary Yan Shifan, Duke Yang, the Duke of Yi, the Duke of Zheng, the Crown Prince, and the Grand Princess. If this were merely about the civil-military struggle, there would be no need to mobilize so many powerful figures. Moreover, the Chancellor and the Senior Grand Secretary never involved themselves in such disputes. Something of great magnitude was undoubtedly about to unfold.

"His Majesty has arrived!" Before Eunuch Hai even appeared, his voice echoed through the hall.

The officials immediately braced themselves, standing ramrod straight. Those who could hold office in the capital were sharp; they knew today was different and that any mistake could be fatal.

"Long live His Majesty, long live, long live!" As the Xuande Emperor took his seat, all the officials prostrated themselves in salute.

"Rise, my loyal subjects." The Xuande Emperor spoke with an uncharacteristic smile.

"We thank Your Majesty."

As soon as Duke Yang saw the Emperor’s expression, his heart skipped a beat. It was confirmed: something monumental was going to happen today.

"Do any of you have matters to report today?" the Xuande Emperor asked.

The hall was deathly silent; neither civil nor military officials dared to speak. The Earl of Kaiyang had just received a subtle hint from his father-in-law to remain silent regardless of the circumstances. Even though he had just been promoted to Minister of Revenue and needed to make an impression, today was not the day for it.

"Father, your daughter has a matter to report," Li Qingyao said. Seeing that no one else would step forward, she knew they were all waiting for her.

"Speak." The Xuande Emperor nodded.

Li Qingyao dropped a bombshell: "Father, I propose the migration of the southern populace to the north. It would be beneficial for both the nation and its people."

The entire court, save for those in the highest positions, widened their eyes in shock. Southern migration to the north! This was the third time such a proposal had been raised in court. But everyone knew that the power bases of the noble families were all in the south; they would never allow the populace to be moved to the north.

As expected, after a brief exchange of glances, the Vice Minister of Personnel took the lead: "Your Majesty, I object. The north is a land of bitter cold; moving the southern people there is nothing more than sending them to their deaths." He was a representative of the noble families, speaking for the Zhang clan.

Zhu Qingdao, a Grand Academician of the Hanlin Academy, added, "Your Majesty, I also object. This does not align with the will of the people. To force such a migration may incite civil unrest."

The Vice Minister of Revenue stepped forward: "Your Majesty, I object. This would be a waste of resources. The national treasury is already depleted; we cannot support such a migration."

An Imperial Censor chimed in: "Your Majesty, I object, the northern migration..."

At least a dozen officials rose to object in succession. They all represented the noble clans, and each had a "legitimate" reason for their opposition. The higher-ranking officials remained silent. Issues like northern migration were never open to debate; the opposition was automatic.

The Xuande Emperor nodded, "You all make valid points."

The officials smiled. The Grand Princess’s proposal was clearly impossible to implement.

However, the Xuande Emperor shifted his tone and asked Zhao Rufeng, "Chancellor Zhao, what is your opinion?"

All eyes turned to the Chancellor. Zhao Rufeng took a deep breath, a sharp light erupting from his eyes. He stepped forward, head held high, and declared with ringing authority: "I support the migration of the southern populace to the north."

This statement acted as a second bomb, causing the pupils of every official to contract. The Chancellor had actually agreed!

Twice before had this issue been raised, and Zhao Rufeng had remained silent. But every official knew that once Zhao Rufeng threw his support behind the Emperor, this "top critic" of the Great Jing Dynasty would fight with everything he had. If he were in the right, he would even bash his head against the pillars of the hall to prove his point if someone tried to distort the truth. This was no joke—he would truly do it. Even the Emperor found him difficult to manage.

Neither Duke Yang nor Senior Grand Secretary Yan Shifan said a word. It seemed things were going to escalate.

The Imperial Censor immediately countered, "Chancellor Zhao, this move benefits neither the nation nor the people."

Zhao Rufeng glanced at him coldly and replied in a low voice, "You are of the Wei clan, are you not? Do you dare say again that it benefits neither the nation nor the people, or is it that it simply does not benefit your Wei clan?"

With that single look, the Censor trembled, sweat beading on his forehead. This was Zhao Rufeng—a man who could stand alone as a loyal subject and a Chancellor. His mere presence was enough to silence these minor officials.

The Minister of Rites stepped in: "Chancellor Zhao, this is a waste of labor and wealth. The people will not leave their homes. If you force them, you will trigger a revolt. On this, I object."

Zhao Rufeng chuckled. "If the people were willing, would you still object?"

The Minister of Rites scoffed, "If the people were willing, I would have nothing to say. But what method does the Chancellor have to make them willingly move to a desolate, frozen wasteland?"

"Simple," Zhao Rufeng replied lightly. "Disaster victims. Those who have already lost their homes are the best candidates."

At the mention of "disaster victims," the expressions of many in the court shifted. Those who had lost their homes might indeed agree to such a move.

The Minister of Rites argued, "Chancellor, these people have already suffered. To force them to travel thousands of miles north—do you know how many will die on the way? You are recklessly disregarding human life."

Zhao Rufeng squinted at him. "That is why I said they must be willing. And it is not just the victims; even those who have not been affected by disasters may move if they wish."

The Minister of Rites laughed dismissively. "Chancellor, even victims are reluctant to leave their homes, let alone those who are safe. Are you joking?"

Zhao Rufeng replied calmly, "What if they have family members already serving in the northern garrisons? Or what if they are families who own no land and are exploited by local gentry year-round?"

He pulled a memorial from his sleeve and addressed the Emperor: "Your Majesty, this migration is beneficial to both state and people. I request that those willing to develop the northern frontier be allowed to meet their kin in the garrisons once a month as a sign of imperial grace. Furthermore, land reclaimed by these migrants should be partially granted to them as property. The excess land, after providing rewards to the settlers, can be reclaimed by the state and distributed to the elderly, sick, or disabled soldiers of the northern garrisons for cultivation. During peacetime, these soldiers can act as farmer-soldiers to stockpile grain. A portion of their harvest will be granted to them for their own sustenance. In times of war, they can take up arms to defend the Great Jing Dynasty. This not only solves the food shortage in the north but develops the wasteland itself. If the borders were ever breached, this development would serve as a bulwark against the Hui people, preventing them from driving straight into the heart of our land. Therefore, Your Majesty, I believe this migration is an absolute necessity."

After finishing, Zhao Rufeng glanced at the Minister of Rites. "Minister, what do you think of this plan?"