The Fuse

Ferdinand righteously blocked the cabinet's suicidal bill.

What a joke. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile; Bulgaria's fiscal deficit wasn't just a few million, but over a hundred million Lev.

If all of that were shifted onto the backs of the farmers, Ferdinand could already envision the scene: countless bankrupt peasants rising up in rebellion to overthrow the government.

As for falling out with the cabinet over this, Ferdinand no longer cared. Of two evils, choose the lesser; compared to a peasant uprising, the cabinet was clearly the softer target.

Ferdinand understood the Stambolov cabinet quite well. Their political methods were crude, practically amateurish, and Ferdinand had plenty of ways to deal with them.

Exiting the palace, Minister of Economy Michael said worriedly, "Your Excellency Prime Minister, the Grand Duke has vetoed the Agricultural Tax Increase Act. What shall we do?"

"What shall we do! Since it has come to this, there is no need for us to be polite with him. It was we who helped Ferdinand onto the throne; at worst, we can just replace him!" Minister of Interior Jonas said angrily.

"What!" The expressions of everyone present changed instantly.

Stambolov-Bolov said furiously, "God! Jonas, you idiot, shut your mouth! Stop spouting nonsense. Do you think this is a child's game where we can just swap people out? Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Realizing he had blundered, Jonas turned pale. He knew that if today's events leaked, he would be finished. The events surrounding the previous Grand Duke were still fresh, and Sofia had run red with blood. He looked at the others, pleading for help.

Wilson, who usually had a decent relationship with Jonas, stepped in to smooth things over: "Your Excellency Prime Minister, don't mind that idiot Jonas. What should we do next?"

Stambolov was silent for a moment before saying, "According to Bulgarian law, we can still convene the National Assembly. As long as the Assembly passes it, the Grand Duke surely won't jump out to veto it again!"

The group felt a jolt, their expressions shifting slightly, but in the end, they nodded. Everyone knew that bypassing the King to pass a bill directly through the Assembly was equivalent to sidelining him.

This cabinet would never again receive Ferdinand's support, and they were bound to face endless trouble in the future.

As expected, things went just as Ferdinand had anticipated. The Stambolov cabinet did not give up; after Ferdinand's veto, they immediately convened the National Assembly.

They intended to rely on the Liberal Party's majority in the National Assembly to force the tax increase bill through, while simultaneously striking at Ferdinand's prestige.

On April 28, 1888, Bulgaria convened the National Assembly once again. Stambolov-Bolov, representing the cabinet, submitted the Agricultural Tax Increase Act to the parliament.

However, Ferdinand, having foreseen this, naturally would not sit idly by. Before the parliament convened, the dispute between him and the cabinet had already spread.

Would the opposition parties, having received the news, let the Stambolov cabinet have its way? Ferdinand did not know.

What was certain, however, was that public opinion was already on his side. Once the bill passed, the cabinet would surely be cursed to high heaven.

Knowing that the parliament would be rowdy today, Ferdinand naturally did not attend. He was content to watch the show from the sidelines; if he were to jump out directly, it would undoubtedly lower his own status.

Watching the noisy parliament, Stambolov felt an inexplicable irritation. Having risen from the son of a shoemaker to the Prime Minister of a nation, he was naturally no fool.

He knew he would be cursed for increasing the agricultural tax, and he had been prepared for it. For the sake of Bulgaria's industrialization, Stambolov did not care about bearing a bit of infamy.

Yet, looking at the chaotic parliament now, he deeply doubted whether this bunch of people could lead Bulgaria to a revival.

Stambolov, who also served as the Speaker, spoke angrily: "Order! Enough, no need for more nonsense, let's go straight to the vote!"

Unexpectedly, this move triggered strong dissatisfaction among the Conservative Party and democratic figures. According to standard procedure, there should have been a debate before the bill was put to a vote.

In a foul mood, Stambolov had actually skipped this step. After clarifying the bill, he moved directly to a vote, stripping them of their right to speak.

The furious Conservative members walked out of the vote in protest.

Unsurprisingly, the Liberal Party held seventy percent of the seats in parliament, so passing the resolution was not a problem.

Now that the largest opposition in parliament, the Conservative Party, had simply walked out of the vote, the bill should have passed with a high margin, right?

The result was unexpected and left the Conservative members full of regret: the resolution passed with 26 votes in favor, 55 abstentions, and 18 against.

The scene left the Stambolov cabinet feeling incredibly awkward. It turned out they were so unpopular that their approval rating was less than thirty percent. If the Conservatives hadn't walked out, the Liberal-controlled parliament would have vetoed their proposal that very day.

One could imagine that a political struggle centered on the cabinet was about to unfold.

If Ferdinand were here, he could have clearly told Stambolov that he was overthinking things.

Most Bulgarian parliamentarians were students who had studied abroad; young and hot-blooded, they were the easiest to be swayed by public opinion.

Moreover, a large portion came from feudal landlord backgrounds. Their families certainly wouldn't have told them how their land was acquired, so upon hearing about a tax increase, their first reaction was that their own interests were being harmed.

Their opposition to the proposal was purely instinctive, not necessarily a genuine dissatisfaction with the cabinet.

Upon receiving the results, Ferdinand knew that the Stambolov cabinet was about to make a foolish move; this might well be the fuse for a police state!

Since he couldn't stop it, Ferdinand naturally went with the flow, striving to maximize his own interests.

At the very least, Ferdinand's intelligence organization had already begun to act. They had secretly acquired several newspapers to cheer for him.

Taking advantage of the fact that everyone was caught off guard, he polished his reputation. At least in the hearts of most citizens, Ferdinand, who opposed the extortionate taxes, was a benevolent King.

Ferdinand's gaze had now moved beyond Sofia and into the vast countryside.

As early as last year, Ferdinand had sent people to the Austro-Hungarian Empire to hire agricultural experts, and then ordered the Ministry of Agriculture to conduct a preliminary survey.

His agricultural development plan was formulated by these experts. To ensure its smooth completion, Ferdinand had even lowered the standards.

As early as a thousand years ago, during the Warring States period, farmers had realized that fertilizer could be used to improve soil. Early farmers applied compost and animal manure to their fields.

19th-century scientists discovered the important role of nitrogen. Farmers began to purchase sodium nitrate found in natural deposits in Chile to apply to their own fields.

However, Bulgarian agriculture was generally behind the times; the use of chemical fertilizers was highly irrational, and the yield per acre was less than two-thirds of that in Western Europe.

Water conservancy projects were in an even worse state, relying basically on the mercy of the heavens. If Bulgaria didn't have superior climatic conditions and a sparse population, it would likely still be struggling to put food on the table.

Ferdinand was no longer a naive teenager; he didn't intend to solve all the problems at once. He prepared to start with the easy tasks.

First, he had the agricultural experts compile a guide for the rational use of chemical fertilizers. Then, he handed it to the Ministry of Agriculture to promote it to the lower levels, aiming to produce results first before delving deeper.