Entrenched Abuses, Reluctant Consent

Meanwhile, inside Ciqing Palace. ... "What? You're saying that prominent clans across all of Huguang are opening private mines?!" Zhu Yijun cried out in utter astonishment. Zhang Hong secretly broke into a cold sweat. Over the past two days, he had gone through great pains to nab a eunuch sent to Huguang to inspect tax levies. After a thorough interrogation, he had hurried here first thing this morning to report to the Crown Prince. Yet the details were labyrinthine and disturbing. When Zhang Hong had first heard them yesterday, he had been shaken to the core. Seeing the Crown Prince's reaction now, he naturally grew even more cautious. He answered candidly, "Master, the eunuchs dispatched from our palace can only glimpse a corner of the tapestry. What they saw might not represent the whole truth." Zhu Yijun had no patience for such soothing platitudes. He paced back and forth across the hall, mulling over what Zhang Hong had just divulged. The Provincial Administration Commission—the formal administrative office of a province among the so-called Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces. Huguang was one of those thirteen provinces, rich in iron and copper deposits. And now Zhang Hong was telling him that the various prefectures and departments of Huguang not only dared to secretly grant mining concessions to local grand families, but even dared to openly split the profits fifty-fifty?! What kind of monstrous audacity was this? Mines! Those were the very sources of ironware, arms, armor, and coinage! What were they trying to do by opening private mines?! He muttered to himself, "What on earth is Grand Coordinator Wang Daokun doing?" Seeing the Crown Prince merely murmuring, Zhang Hong hesitated over whether he should respond. After a moment's thought, he replied, "Your Highness, Grand Coordinator Wang concurrently holds only the post of Minister of War." The unspoken implication was that although Wang Daokun held a lofty status, his authority extended only to mobilizing troops and commanding generals; he could not dictate civil governance. Zhu Yijun asked coldly, "What of the Provincial Administration Commission, then? Are they completely ignorant as well?" The Provincial Administration Commission yamen—commonly known as the provincial administration office—was the vital organ that governed a province's civil affairs, conveying imperial will, propagating decrees, and administering governance. Compared to a grand coordinator, the Provincial Administration Commission was the province's permanent governing authority. As the highest civil office in the province, for them to claim total ignorance was something he simply could not believe. Zhang Hong chose his words carefully. "Your Highness, last year, Sun Yizheng, Left Administration Commissioner of Huguang, was promoted to Prefect of Shuntian. The Left Administration Commissioner who succeeded him, Tang Bin, is not a native of Huguang. "In the second month of this year, the Ministry of Personnel transferred He Bangqi of the Bureau of Honors to serve as Right Assistant Administration Commissioner of Huguang. In the third month, they dispatched another investigating censor." An administration commissioner was the chief civilian official of a province. Zhang Hong's words clearly hinted that the former commissioner, Sun Yizheng, was a Huguang native. As for the Ministry of Personnel transferring officials to the provinces, there were naturally political machinations involved. Yet Zhang Hong did not say anything superfluous. Over these few days together, he had gradually come to realize just how naturally brilliant and astute this master he served truly was. Sure enough, Zhu Yijun's brow furrowed even deeper. He understood Zhang Hong's meaning: after Tang Bin took over, the subordinates below still treated Sun Yizheng, who had departed for the capital, as their distant patron. The newly appointed administration commissioner, Tang Bin, had no control over the situation whatsoever. Perhaps the central court had long spotted clues—whether Sun Yizheng's move was a promotion or a subtle demotion was still up for debate. Or perhaps Tang Bin had simply submitted a memorial detailing the state of affairs afterward. In any case, the Ministry of Personnel and the Censorate had subsequently sent people down, and the inner court had even dispatched eunuchs to inspect taxes. Sending officials down was an absolute necessity; this was not an issue that could be resolved with a mere sheet of imperial decree. Expecting administrative clarity and trying to govern the provinces purely through imperial edicts? That was not statecraft; that was a simulation game. Let alone in this era, such matters had always been an immense challenge throughout history. Back when he had held office in his past life, whenever a monumental disaster occurred below, the local authorities would invariably pull the blankets over their heads and try to handle it in secret. Even if he issued fiercely worded directives demanding rectification, those below would merely go through the motions. Whether the matter was big or small, unless a dedicated task force was drawn from various ministries and bureaus to descend upon the locality, one could forget about pulling back that blanket. Given the current limitations of transportation and postal delivery, trying to rein in Huguang was naturally far harder. Yet after envoys were dispatched, the other two parties had gone silent, while the palace's emissaries were driven back through humiliating means. He feared the waters ran unfathomably deep. "Sun Yizheng..." Zhu Yijun silently added another name to his mental list, though a sense of helplessness crept into his heart. This was likely not a problem confined to Sun Yizheng alone. This was not something a mere Prefect of Shuntian could shelter; the network involved had to extend far beyond him. From patrons in the central government, down to the provincial commission, down to the prefectures and counties, and finally to the local gentry and magnates—they had woven an intricate, suffocating web. Right now, people called it local rot. In his past life, he would have called it systemic collapse. Dealing with Sun Yizheng would achieve nothing when there were tens or hundreds more behind him. To clean up governance, one could not merely patch leaks; one had to start from top-level design. The corruption in the Great Ming was simply too severe. If private mining continued unchecked like this, in a few years the realm would be teeming with factions secretly amassing weapons and armor. However, whether it was selecting officials or sweeping away entrenched abuses, it all required the cooperation of the Ministry of Personnel. Zhu Yijun pressed his temples in deep thought and let out a sigh. The Ministry of Personnel was firmly in Gao Gong's grasp. Even if he were willing to collude with Gao Gong on this, Gao Gong would never let him meddle. This matter still had to rest on Gao Yi. Once he ascended the throne, he would inevitably force Gao Gong to retire. When that time came, Zhang Juzheng could serve as Senior Grand Secretary, and Gao Yi could take charge of the Ministry of Personnel. His efforts to win over Gao Yi over these past days had yielded promising results. Given a little more time, he would be able to pull strings from behind the scenes and exert his influence over the man. Furthermore, the Evaluation Law that had stirred up such fierce contention lately—which was blatantly championed by Zhang Juzheng—might also present an opportunity. Though in his eyes, it remained far too crude, akin to administering a violently potent draught. Should he intervene? How should he intervene? If he could use it to gain leverage over personnel appointments while demonstrating his support for the new policies to Zhang Juzheng, it might not be a bad move. Still, he had to be cautious with his methods. "Your Highness, it is time to proceed to Wenhua Hall. Today is the day the civil and military officials present their accession petition," Zhang Hong called out softly. Zhu Yijun snapped back to reality. He looked up at the sky and nodded. The moment he stepped out of the hall doors, Jiang Keqian stepped forward to greet him and fell in behind. This was a back door arranged by Zhu Xizhong, making it completely natural for Jiang Keqian to attend and guard the Crown Prince at all times. Even after he moved to Qianqing Palace in the future, these men would still remain by his side. Jiang Keqian's talents were not extraordinary, but he possessed distinct virtues. He was taciturn and resolute. Over the past few days, he had been diligent, handling every assigned task without the slightest slip-up. Zhu Yijun glanced at him and could not help offering praise: "You have handled things well." Yesterday afternoon, when he had gone to pay his respects at the Two Palaces, Noble Consort Li had incessantly praised him for growing up and understanding propriety, which brought her great relief. Presumably, she had gained immense face before the noblewomen of the hereditary houses. Combined with his deliberate display of intelligence, benevolence, and pure filial piety during the daily lectures, he had won lavish acclaim from many lecture officials. Even Gao Yi had been unable to resist praising him. Consequently, certain court officials steeped in deep scholar-official sentiments were beginning to look upon him with genuine reverence, privately marveling that he bore the hallmarks of an enlightened sovereign. With concerted efforts inside and out, he had already garnered considerable prestige in the court's public opinion. Although it appeared to offer no tangible authority on the surface, the invisible influence it carried was tacitly understood by all. Once it fermented for a few more days, the effect would become even more pronounced. By then, he would no longer be that recalcitrant, unmanageable Crown Prince; he could successfully sever himself from the Zhu Yijun of the past. He would no longer be a Zhu Yijun whom Feng Bao could trip up, whom Noble Consort Li could force to write a self-reproach memorial, or whom Gao Gong could belittle at will. Moreover, even if he were to flip the board, there would be those defenders of orthodoxy willing to lay down their lives for him. Ritual propriety was power; prestige was momentum. There was no rush; take it slow. He still had time. Next, he needed to continue influencing Noble Consort Li while winning over Gao Yi, gradually infiltrating personnel appointments. Then, the possibilities would be vast. Jiang Keqian knew nothing of these intricate calculations. He simply clung firmly to his patron's coattails. "Sharing Your Highness's burdens is my bounden duty. This subject dares not claim any credit." Zhu Yijun asked, "Have my pillar ministers made any moves recently?" Seeing that he was only four days away from his enthronement, their maneuvers ought to be growing increasingly frequent. It was best to discern them in advance. Otherwise, if an unexpected blow fell before he had time to intervene, the consequences would be dire. Jiang Keqian kept his head lowered. "I was just about to report this to Your Highness. "Grand Secretary Gao Yi has barely stepped outside his doors, nor have any visitors called upon him. Yesterday, however, he visited several calligraphy and mounting shops, seemingly to mount the copybooks Your Highness bestowed upon him." Gao Yi truly had the temperament of a toad—only jumping when poked. Even after rising to the rank of Grand Secretary, he remained utterly disinclined to stir unless someone prodded him. Jiang Keqian continued, "Grand Secretary Zhang has recently had frequent private contact with Minister Lü Diaoyang and Director-General of Granaries Wang Shihe." Zhu Yijun walked ahead, listening intently. Those Zhang Juzheng consorted with were all members of the reform faction; for the time being, there were no discernible signs of any major upheaval. "As for the Senior Grand Secretary, he has entertained a great many visiting officials, including surveillance officials Han Ji and Song Zhihan..." Zhu Yijun waved his hand to interrupt him. "No need to mention his protégés. Get to the point." Jiang Keqian hastily said, "Yes, Your Highness. "Vice Minister of Personnel Zhang Siwei and Minister of War Yang Bo have also paid discreet visits to his residence. "The son of Yin Zhengmao, Governor-General of Guangdong and Guangxi, called upon him yesterday as well. "There were also individuals of unknown identity. I had my men shadow one or two of them; they appeared to be domestic servants carrying letters from Southern Zhili. "Furthermore, domestic servants delivering correspondence have come from the Nine Ministers, including Censor-in-Chief Ge Shouli and Minister of Revenue Zhang Shouzhi." Zhu Yijun's expression turned grave. Days ago, Gao Gong had brazenly rejected Noble Consort Li's decree, which had immediately put him on guard. Even if Gao Gong's political finesse was somewhat lacking, there was no reason he would fail to see that once Noble Consort Li became Empress Dowager Li, he would face grim retribution. Yet he acted with utter fearlessness, which could not help but arouse suspicion. Now he was conferring so frequently with court officials—just what was he plotting? "Do we know what they are discussing?" Zhu Yijun asked slowly. Jiang Keqian paused, looking troubled. He said cautiously, "Your Highness, the Senior Grand Secretary's household is quite frugal. He keeps very few servants." That meant it was impossible to plant informants. Another incorruptible official. Zhu Yijun's expression turned strange. Why did he feel like a villain scheming against an upright official? Jiang Keqian suddenly added, "Your Highness, there is a piece of news from Zhang Siwei's side, however." Zhu Yijun turned to look at him. Jiang Keqian continued, "The Senior Grand Secretary seems to have promised to bring Wang Chonggu into the Grand Secretariat in exchange for their faction handing over the military and administrative control of Xuan-Da." Hm? Zhu Yijun's brows furrowed, astonishment surging within him. Since when had Grand Secretariat appointments become Gao Gong's sole prerogative? For Gao Gong to act with such arbitrary arrogance—did he truly not fear an eventual reckoning? And how did he intend to deliver on that promise? Did he really think the Two Palaces would simply endorse the pledge he had made? He slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air. "Keep monitoring them." Overthinking was futile. Today was the sixth, and in four days he would ascend the throne. He would see just what tricks these men had up their sleeves. ... Wenhua Hall, side chamber. "Grand Secretary." "Grand Secretary Gao." Gao Yi had arrived somewhat late. Numerous officials outside the hall bowed to him in greeting. "Seat Master." Gao Yi turned back and saw his disciple Wang Dingjue, along with Wang Dingjue's elder brother, Wang Xijue, who had placed among the top three in the imperial examinations. He said testily, "What 'Seat Master'? How many times must I say it? Address each other by official titles during public duties." Though he voiced a reprimand, Gao Yi was reminded of that Crown Prince who always addressed him as 'Teacher' during formal business, and his expression turned distinctly complicated. Wang Dingjue hastily apologized. Wang Xijue also spoke up, "Grand Secretary, both the Senior Grand Secretary and Grand Secretary Zhang have arrived. They are waiting for you." Gao Yi nodded, excused himself, and walked toward the front of the ranks. Watching him walk away, Wang Dingjue remarked with feeling, "Brother, look at our Seat Master's temperament. Isn't he far more agreeable than the Senior Grand Secretary and Grand Secretary Zhang?" Just moments ago, when the two of them had bowed to Gao Gong, they had not even received a sidelong glance. Zhang Juzheng had responded with lukewarm indifference, though he had clearly seemed lost in thought. Wang Xijue shook his head. "If you hold such notions, you will never accomplish practical governance." Having entered the Grand Secretariat, how could one remain a genial pushover? To implement new laws without an unyielding temperament was to invite being duped. Gao Yi's character was ill-suited for the Grand Secretariat; he was better suited to return to the Ministry of Rites. Wang Xijue was in no mood to lecture his younger brother; he merely waited quietly for the Crown Prince. Ever since arriving in the capital, rumors about the young prince had never ceased to ring in his ears. He was exceedingly eager to see just what mettle the boy possessed. If he turned out to be an incompetent fool propped up by flattering praise, Wang Xijue would not hesitate to record the truth in his personal memoirs. He only hoped the boy possessed even three-tenths of what the rumors claimed. Right then, a eunuch entered the side chamber and murmured a few words to Gao Gong. Gao Gong cleared his throat lightly. The civil and military officials promptly stirred, moving toward their designated ranks. Wang Xijue knew this signaled that the Crown Prince had entered the hall and was awaiting the officials' audience. He quickly tugged his brother back to their rank. He had been unable to take part in the previous two accession petitions; today was his first time witnessing it. "Ascend the hall!" Following the herald's cry, the ritual bells and drums from the rear hall gradually began to chime. Wang Xijue followed in lockstep, moving from the side chamber into the main hall. Flanking the hall stood the Embroidered Uniform Guard in qilin and flying fish robes, tall, imposing, and watchful as tigers. Two protocol inspectors stood beneath the imperial steps, their faces expressionless as they scrutinized the gathered ministers. Wang Xijue quietly raised his eyes, glancing up and down his own column. *Crack! Crack! Crack!* Amidst the ceremonial music, three cracks of the silence whip rang out. Wang Xijue peered forward. The Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial wielded the silence whip, chanting an announcement. Ranked toward the rear, Wang Xijue could no longer hear what was being chanted. He saw only the figure of that child clad in mourning dress, seated upright behind the imperial desk. The assembled officials held their tablets and prostrated themselves. The Ministry of Rites had briefed them on the procedure in advance, so Wang Xijue naturally knew what to do. Bowing along with the rest, he mumbled perfunctorily, "We respectfully welcome the Crown Prince to preside over the court. "We inquire after Your Highness's well-being." The two protocol inspectors had already straightened, pacing through the ranks. Their eyes swept over the officials like hunting falcons. At such a moment, even letting a drop of sweat fall could be deemed an act of great irreverence, punishable by dismissal from office. "We are well." Wang Xijue heard only a slightly tender, yet remarkably steady and calm voice. It sounded composed, but unfortunately, he could not see the boy clearly. Had he not known the consequences, he would have loved to step over the protocol inspector to peer up at the imperial desk. *Dong! Dong! Dong!* The chiming of bells and ritual music resounded once more. Wang Xijue realized that in the span of his momentary distraction, Gao Gong had already stepped out of the ranks to present the accession petition. The dignitary in crimson robes raised his court tablet first. Wang Xijue hurriedly joined his colleagues, chanting a beat behind, "We humbly submit that Heaven blesses the people below and establishes their sovereign to bring peace to the four seas; a father possessing the realm transmits it to his son to rule for myriad years. How much more so when the songs of praise and the hopes of the court all converge upon you, and the ancestral temple and altars of soil and grain have found their rightful lord!" ... "Though burdened by deep mourning and unable to forget the pangs of grief, yet faced with myriad pressing affairs of state, Your Highness must reflect upon this grave and monumental trust. We, your subjects, are struck with profound trepidation and knock ever more urgently at the palace gates, praying that you will ultimately ascend as supreme sovereign, thereby bringing comfort to the hearts of the multitude." As the petition's text continued, the voices of the officials gradually coalesced into unison. Behind the hall, the grand bells tolled and the ritual music drifted melodiously. Inside the hall, the chanting swelled like crashing waves and rolling thunder. Wang Xijue, who had originally watched with the detachment of an onlooker, now felt his thoughts blur into a muddle, swept along by the impassioned fervor of the crowd. The words that had begun as a mumble gradually swelled into a resounding roar from his own chest. ... "We humbly beseech Your Highness to forever cherish the parting words left at the imperial couch, to early receive the precious emblems of rule, to propagate the imperial design and magnify the dynastic standard, to let your sacred virtue shine like the sun and moon, to lengthen the phoenix calendar and lay the foundation for a grand destiny, and to extend the fortune of the state for ages without end!" By the time he recited the final line, Wang Xijue's back was nearly soaked with sweat, yet he remained prostrate on the ground, not daring to move. He stole a quick upward glance. At that exact moment, the Crown Prince slowly rose from behind the imperial desk. He brushed aside the supporting hand of the chief eunuch, Feng Bao. The Crown Prince seemed to look down upon the civil and military officials inside and outside the hall. In a clear, ringing voice, he answered, "You ministers have presented your plea with one voice, twice and now thrice; We have fully comprehended your loyalty and sincerity. "The heavenly throne is of supreme weight and truly cannot long remain vacant. Moreover, the late emperor's testamentary charge rests upon Our shoulders, and We dare not stubbornly decline." The Crown Prince paused, and the atmosphere in the hall grew even more solemn. The civil and military officials waited in absolute silence for the Crown Prince's reply; not a sound stirred in the hall, so quiet a falling needle could be heard. Wang Xijue's heart seemed to stop alongside that sentence, leaping into his throat. Inexplicably, he found himself yearning for the Crown Prince's next words. Wang Xijue shifted his back uncomfortably, attempting to banish this surge of emotion, yet he subconsciously held his breath, awaiting the prince's gracious decree. Fortunately, the voice spoke from above once more. The Crown Prince slowly uttered a few words, his articulation clear and solemn: "We reluctantly accede to your request." It was as if witnessing the final brushstroke of a painting, as if an object plunging through the air had finally touched the ground, as if a deeply drawn breath could at last be exhaled. This single sentence fulfilled the hopes of all present. Without needing to match the cadence of the crowd, Wang Xijue performed the three prostrations almost instinctively. He shouted with all his might, "The sacred dynasty has its succession; great fortune to the Great Ming!"