The Rise of a Disciplined Empire

When Zhu Yuanzhang founded the Ming Dynasty in 1368, he inherited a fractured empire still reeling from the excesses of the preceding Yuan Dynasty. His chief advisor, Liu Ji, warned him that the Yuan had collapsed due to unchecked corruption and lax governance. Determined to avoid this fate, Zhu embarked on an unprecedented mission: to build a bureaucracy defined by efficiency and integrity.

Early signs of his uncompromising stance emerged swiftly. When Li Bin, an official under Chancellor Li Shanchang, was caught embezzling, Li Shanchang attempted to shield him. Liu Ji intervened, reporting directly to Zhu, who ordered Li Bin’s execution. Similarly, when the revered general Tang He’s uncle was found evading land taxes, pleas for leniency from high-ranking officials like Chang Yuchun were flatly denied. These cases set the tone for Zhu’s reign—no one, regardless of status, was above the law.

The Empty Seal Scandal (1385)

### A System Ripe for Abuse

The first major crackdown, the Kongyin (Empty Seal) Case, erupted in 1385. To streamline annual audits of grain and population records, local officials had adopted a dangerous shortcut: carrying pre-stamped blank documents to the capital. If discrepancies arose during audits, they could simply fill in corrected numbers on the spot, avoiding months-long delays for fresh approvals.

### Zhu’s Ruthless Response

Zhu saw this as systemic fraud. Declaring the practice a gateway to manipulation, he ordered the execution of all officials involved in using “empty seals,” even those holding partial (half-stamped) documents. When scholar Zheng Shili defended his implicated brother by arguing these seals couldn’t be misused, Zhu dismissed the appeal and exiled both men. Thousands perished, sending shockwaves through the bureaucracy.

Historians remain divided. Critics argue the punishment exceeded the crime, but Zhu’s logic was clear: accurate fiscal data was the backbone of governance. By tolerating shortcuts, the state risked collapsing under the weight of falsified records.

The Guo桓 Embezzlement Scandal (1385)

### A Web of Systemic Graft

Just as the dust settled on the Empty Seal Case, an even larger scandal emerged. Guo桓, a vice minister of revenue, orchestrated a staggering theft of state resources. His schemes included:
– Pocketing tax exemptions meant for drought-stricken regions.
– Skimming 80% of grain taxes from Zhexi province.
– Imposing illegal surcharges like “river-crossing spirit fees” and “barn guard fees,” crushing peasants under invented levies.

### The Domino Effect

Zhu’s investigation revealed losses totaling 24 million dan of grain. His response was methodical: officials from all twelve provinces were interrogated in chains, tracing the corruption from central ministries down to local elites. Over 10,000 were implicated, with middle-class families—often the bribers—bankrupted en masse.

The crackdown exposed a grim reality: even after executions, lower-level clerks continued stealing. One仓库 keeper, previously crippled by having his kneecaps removed, resumed theft using counterfeit grain vouchers. Zhu lamented, “What more can I do to stop them?”

The Tea Smuggling Affair: Betrayal at the Top (1398)

### A Test of Loyalty

By 1398, Zhu faced corruption in his inner circle. His son-in-law, Ouyang Lun, monopolized the tea-horse trade with Tibet—a strategic exchange vital for securing warhorses. Despite strict bans on private tea exports, Ouyang’s agents smuggled loads using government carts, assaulting customs officers who resisted.

### The Ultimate Sacrifice

When reports reached Zhu, he faced an agonizing choice: spare his beloved daughter’s husband or uphold the law. He chose the latter. Ouyang’s execution—despite pleas from Empress Ma herself—proved no relationship outweighed the empire’s stability.

Legacy: Terror or Transformation?

### The Great Announcements and Cultural Shifts

Zhu compiled his anti-graft laws into the Dagao, a legal code distributed nationwide. Families owning a copy received sentencing leniency, and mass public readings were held. The text blended brutal penalties (flaying, dismemberment) with paternalistic rhetoric: “I speak plainly so fools and sages alike understand—this book protects, not harms.”

### Mixed Outcomes

Contemporary accounts describe a bureaucracy paralyzed by fear. Officials bid farewell to families each morning, unsure if they’d return. Yet the Ming History’s Biographies of Upright Officials reveals a paradox: two-thirds of Ming-era “model officials” served during Zhu’s reign. The terror worked—for a time.

### Modern Echoes

Zhu’s campaigns remain a cautionary tale. His methods were extreme, but his insight—that corruption erodes legitimacy—resonates globally. Today, China’s own anti-graft drives cite his emphasis on top-down accountability, albeit without the bloodshed. The lesson endures: without trust in institutions, even the mightiest dynasties fall.

In the end, Zhu Yuanzhang’s legacy is a paradox—a tyrant who cleansed a rotting system, a reformer who ruled by fear. His story forces us to ask: How far is too far in the pursuit of clean governance? The answer, perhaps, lies not in his methods, but in the unyielding principle they served: justice, however brutal, must be blind.