This was the greatest advantage of his past life’s experience: the pilot program.
Zhang Juzheng was taking far too large a stride, to say nothing of the hesitation within the Two Palaces.
Moreover, if it were implemented nationwide all at once, the court's current administrative reach was simply inadequate to support it.
There was no telling how many disgruntled officials would be provoked, nor how much trouble they would stir up.
Becoming bogged down in endless chaos would only waste precious time.
Even if it were forced through at the cost of public outrage, any subsequent backlash would likely end with "discarding the man while retaining the policy"—a grim fate for someone down the line, and one Zhu Yijun was unwilling to see unfold.
A pilot program, on the other hand, was far more controllable. It was boiling a frog in warm water.
The most influential figures of the Great Ming—whether Gao Gong, Zhang Juzheng, or Zhu Yijun himself pulling strings behind the scenes—all supported the Evaluation Law.
Within the modest bounds of Shuntian Prefecture, any minor disturbances would remain manageable. The local officials lacked the clout to organize joint memorials, prostrate themselves at the palace gates, and wail.
Any theatrical threats to resign and return home or cast off on a raft to drift upon the open sea would hardly stir up much momentum either.
If you refuse to do the work, there are plenty of others who will. However difficult it was to find capable bureaucrats or principled men among the pure stream, it was impossible that an entire prefecture could not produce enough of them.
Sure enough, upon hearing this, Noble Consort Li’s eyes lit up, clearly swayed by the idea. Over the past two days of stalling the Evaluation Law, she had endured no shortage of criticism from the pure stream and the capable bureaucrats.
Her son’s approach truly offered the best of both worlds.
It narrowed the scope of the Evaluation Law, reducing its volatility, while simultaneously cutting inner palace expenditures and allowing them to observe the results right under their noses.
The palace's expenses were already immense.
Since there was no immediate way to generate new revenue, she had no objection to curbing costs. Neither of her two sons was married yet; if the treasury were drained by the underlings, she would feel she had failed as a mother.
After a moment of thought, seeking to plug any remaining holes, she asked, "Shuntian Prefecture presents no issue, but as for the Needlework Bureau, why not have Companion Feng take charge of it? He is, after all, the Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial."
Zhu Yijun felt a jolt of energy. Excellent, the time had come to sow some discord.
He glanced back at Feng Bao, who stood behind them looking thoroughly bewildered and utterly unaware of what was about to happen.
Lowering his voice, Zhu Yijun said to Noble Consort Li, "Mother, Companion Feng is already the Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial and concurrently oversees the Eastern Depot. On top of that, both the Palace Guards of the Directorate of Imperial Horses and the palace treasury pass right under his eyes. I fear he may be stretched too thin.
"Besides, even if Companion Zhang oversees this matter, Companion Feng will still be able to supervise him. After all, though Companion Zhang was appointed commissioner by Mother, does Companion Feng not take a personal hand whenever work is done?"
Feng Bao possessed far too much power, and he was undeniably tied to the deep-seated corruptions of the palace. Moreover, he paid mere lip service to his mother's appointments. *Mother, you truly must learn to judge people more accurately.*
Sure enough, Noble Consort Li sank into deep thought.
Only after a long while did she nod. "What you say, my son... does make some sense."
Zhu Yijun breathed an inward sigh of relief. This was the benefit of Noble Consort Li being easily swayed: slander worked on her no matter who delivered it.
Noble Consort Li then pressed, "That addresses the first point. What about the second?"
Zhu Yijun had only mentioned one earlier, so there had to be more to his plan.
Zhu Yijun continued, "Mother, the pilot program is the first measure. As for the second, your child calls it 'performance pay.'"
Since the Two Palaces feared tarnishing imperial virtue, they would simply bestow grace instead.
Noble Consort Li asked in surprise, "Performance pay?"
Zhu Yijun nodded. "This Evaluation Law is exceedingly harsh. As Mother knows, the officials of our court are sluggish and neglectful, and most rely on embezzlement to make a living.
"If we abruptly heap more duties onto them while completely cutting off their illicit income, they will have no means of survival.
"And that may lead to unrest."
They had been content idling about and taking it easy.
Now, introducing some Evaluation Law that not only forced them to work but also forbade them from lining their pockets? Unacceptable!
They would prostrate themselves at the palace gates and wail! They certainly would!
Noble Consort Li nodded. "That is precisely my worry. Even if we follow your idea and limit it to Shuntian Prefecture for now, judging by the Grand Secretariat's intent, it will ultimately be rolled out everywhere."
Zhu Yijun understood a leader's mindset very well: above all, they wanted stability.
Boiling a frog in warm water only made the beginning smoother. Once it expanded nationwide and reached a breaking point, officials would inevitably band together and use the Evaluation Law itself to dismantle the reform.
He explained, "What your child means is this: since we fear unrest, why not divide them?
"The Grand Secretariat's Evaluation Law promotes those of superior merit, retains those who pass, and dismisses those who fail—simple and ruthless.
"Yet, Mother, with so many officials throughout the realm, how many are truly superior? And how many open posts remain for them to be promoted into?
"The vast majority surely fall somewhere between passing and failing, do they not?
"If we only increase their burdens without granting them imperial benevolence, resentment will fester in their hearts, creating immense resistance.
"In your child's view, for the officials of our dynasty, merely meeting the standard is already commendable. Why not offer them tangible benefits and reward them with silver?
"For those who fail, set a limit of three strikes before dismissing them, leaving some margin for error.
"This will provide them with more legitimate income, moralize those corrupt officials caught in a dilemma, prevent the two factions from uniting against us, and spur the bureaucracy to apply themselves diligently to their duties.
"Let the Grand Secretariat play the bad cop, while Mother plays the moderate good cop. That way, your benevolence and imperial virtue will be made manifest to all."
Zhu Yijun finished in a single breath, his mouth slightly dry.
With these adjustments in place, the patched Evaluation Law, though still imperfect, would mitigate the vast majority of resistance.
Increasing legitimate income was imperative.
High salaries might not guarantee integrity, but failing to ensure basic subsistence guaranteed corruption—expecting everyone to be born a sage was entirely unrealistic.
Securing their fundamental livelihood while dangling a sword overhead—a carrot and a stick, combining benevolence with severity—was the only sound policy.
Blind benevolence only abetted villains.
Unrelenting pressure only invited fierce counterattacks.
An evaluation system lacking balance would inevitably see its policies die with its men.
As for why frame it as performance pay rather than folding it into their base stipends?
First, it created a sharp contrast to motivate them; second, it allowed for dynamic adjustments at any time—a lever of power that he needed to keep firmly in his own grasp.
Zhu Yijun glanced back at Noble Consort Li, who was lost in thought. Seeing that she had taken it to heart, he nodded approvingly to himself.
Noble Consort Li understood, of course.
Not only did she understand, but the more she considered it, the more ingenious it seemed!
This way, the imperial virtue she worried about most would remain untarnished.
*This consort has already gone to such lengths; if you still do not apply yourselves to your duties, can you truly blame me?*
Furthermore, she would earn a fine reputation among the pure stream. After all, those court officials who genuinely wished to serve without resorting to graft were truly starved for relief.
The only slight flaw was...
"Will the Ministry of Revenue be willing to disburse the funds for these rewards?"
Zhu Yijun shook his head. "Mother, our palace will pay for this year's pilot performance pay."
Noble Consort Li's mouth dropped open. "What?"
Zhu Yijun explained, "Mother, this one hundred thousand taels from the Ministry of Revenue—we will nominally accept it into the palace treasury, but we will not take the silver itself. We will leave it at the Ministry of Revenue and distribute it under the name of the palace treasury as 'performance pay.'
"Our dynasty has twenty-eight thousand nine hundred and sixty-three registered officials. Yet within Shuntian Prefecture and the Needlework Bureau combined, there are barely over eight hundred. This one hundred thousand taels will be more than enough to cover performance pay and selectively disburse back pay to the deserving.
"Did Gao Gong not refuse to release this money? If it were for palace expenditures, Gao Gong could rally the court officials to block it. But if it is used as the source of benevolent governance, the officials will certainly side with Mother. Even if Gao Gong is dead set against it, he alone will not be able to stop it.
"Using it to bestow our own grace is far better than letting Gao Gong use it to buy people's hearts."
When the inner court offered to hand out money to court officials, no one could possibly stand in the way.
However, he held back slightly in his figures, as that number excluded the clerks and sub-officials, which would have increased the count by more than ten times.
Even so, one had to take life one bite at a time; he was no deity, and he could not cover everything at once.
The Great Ming's annual stipend converted to over 1.3 million taels of silver, yet the actual amount disbursed over the years had not even reached fifty percent. Was it because officials at every level did not want to pay their own people?
They had no money!
Without reforming the tax laws, or even conducting land surveys, all of this treated the symptoms rather than the disease!
Yet no matter the tax law or the new policy, it required the cooperation of the entire bureaucratic apparatus. How could one implement new policies alongside vermin?
Reforming the bureaucracy required money, but acquiring money required reforming the bureaucracy—a vicious paradox.
What Zhu Yijun needed to do now was pry open a breach in this paradox.
At a low cost, he would steadily push forward bureaucratic reform, and then use the fruits of that reform to drive forward new laws, thereby creating a virtuous cycle.
Of course, there was no need to explain all this to Noble Consort Li.
Seeing that she remained silent, Zhu Yijun continued, "This way, we will secure a fine reputation, and Mother can win back a round against Gao Gong.
"If the Evaluation Law proves ineffective, we simply will not pay it next year. But if it works, the palace treasury will save far more than one hundred thousand taels in a single year.
"Once the Evaluation Law is effectively rolled out, setting aside the silver saved through frugality, there will surely be no shortage of ways to generate new revenue. When that time comes, we can negotiate the expenditures with the Ministry of Revenue.
"In the end, we will not lose out."
A single item like tribute tea harbored shady dealings worth over thirty thousand taels. Even if the Evaluation Law were only thirty percent effective, saving ten thousand taels there, trimming a little from the other items—gold thread, grain, silk, tea, wax, pigments—would easily amount to well over one hundred thousand taels.
And what if it failed to curb corruption even by thirty percent? If they gave him so little face, what use was there in keeping them alive instead of executing them?
There was no need to discuss high-level politics with a woman secluded in the inner palace; a vague economic calculation was the proper medicine. Pushing through the Evaluation Law benefited every side.
He looked up at Noble Consort Li once more, but she still gave no response.
Zhu Yijun had no idea that she had been struck utterly speechless.
It was not that she failed to understand, nor that she disagreed—she was simply overwhelmed with astonishment.
This son of hers... was a born sovereign!
*Vast in strategy, sharp and decisive in counsel!* These phrases echoed relentlessly in her mind.
As a woman from a commoner background, she did not understand the intricate maneuverings of statecraft, yet she had witnessed the late emperor dealing with government affairs.
Every single time had been filled with endless sorrow and heavy sighs.
Never had she seen such breathtaking, effortless finesse. It left her entirely in awe.
This was an aura she had only ever seen in the grand secretaries of the past—men like Yan Song of old, and Xu Jie after him.
The rest, whether Li Chunfang or Gao Gong, could not even hold a candle to it!
This natural genius for political maneuvering seemed, in a fleeting haze, to carry the formidable demeanor of Emperor Shizong. Was this a gift passed down through generations?
The only difference was that Emperor Shizong had wielded his statecraft to control his subordinates, whereas her son was using it to discuss grand state policy with his mother.
From this moment on, she was finally convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that what her son had said about encountering the late emperor in the unseen realm had truly happened.
*The late emperor has manifested his spirit! The ancestors have shown their favor!*
If this seedling were properly cultivated into a wise and enlightened ruler... her own deeds would surely merit a few extra lines in the annals of history.
Unbidden, her eyes grew slightly moist.
"Mother? Mother?"
Noble Consort Li snapped back to her senses.
Hearing Zhu Yijun call out to her, she quickly turned her face away, pretending nothing was amiss, and said, "Our words alone do not settle the matter. It must still be sent down to the Grand Secretariat for deliberation."
Not only had her decree as Noble Consort just been rejected, but even an imperial edict from the emperor himself, if not drafted and approved by the Grand Secretariat, was merely a palace decree and technically illegal in procedure.
Gao Gong was a fierce actor; he might well act obstinately and disregard her entirely—Noble Consort Li still believed the Evaluation Law had been proposed by Gao Gong.
Zhu Yijun, however, was brimming with confidence. "Mother need not worry. I have already discussed this approach with Grand Secretary Gao. He offered many suggestions to mend its shortcomings. I expect he will persuade the Senior Grand Secretary, so there is no need for Mother to issue a decree.
"By the way, Mother, please do not tell others that this was my idea. Your child is, after all, still young..."
Gao Yi was a very convenient excuse, and Zhu Yijun naturally spun the lie out of thin air.
Yet he was not truly deceiving Noble Consort Li; he simply intended to convince Gao Yi first, and then let Gao Yi step forward.
A moral gentleman like Gao Yi was easiest to persuade by appealing to the greater good.
Looking at his spirited expression, Noble Consort Li's eyes were filled with profound gratification.
...
The seventh day of the sixth month, the sixth year of Longqing.
With only three days remaining until the accession ceremony, bustling figures multiplied throughout the Forbidden City.
Yet none of this disturbed Zhu Yijun.
He continued to develop himself methodically—strengthening his body, caring for his oral hygiene, currying favor with Consort Li, and accumulating prestige.
In the early morning, when Zhu Yijun arrived at Wenhua Hall for the daily lectures, two lecturers were absent.
Ma Ziqiang, Junior Supervisor of the Supervisorate of Imperial Instruction and Reader-in-Waiting of the Hanlin Academy, along with Tao Dalin, had gone to coordinate with the Ministry of Rites to prepare the ceremonies for the accession and the late emperor's posthumous title, leaving them no choice but to request leave from the daily lectures.
Zhu Yijun had no deep impression of either man and paid it no mind.
After exchanging formal courtesies, Zhu Yijun walked familiarly up to Gao Yi, took him by the hand, and led him inside.
"Come, grant the teacher a seat." Turning back to Gao Yi, he asked, "Teacher, which chapter shall we lecture on today?"
Gao Yi was no longer resistant to this sequence of familiar courtesies.
He answered naturally, "Your Highness, today's texts are the 'Zi Cai' and 'Zhao Gao' chapters from the Classic of History."
Zhu Yijun nodded, helped him sit down, and only then returned to his desk to sit upright.
He had intentionally displayed a degree of intelligence, and his recitation progress through the Classic of History was remarkably swift.
Over the past six or seven days, he had already completed the Book of Shang and advanced into the Book of Zhou.
Certain lecturers who deliberately flattered him had even begun boasting outside that the Crown Prince could read ten lines at a glance and possessed a photographic memory.
In reality, his progress was merely slightly fast. Memorizing two or three two-hundred-character passages a day was hardly a struggle for him; in his past life, he could memorize seven or eight poems a day at the age of seven.
Sitting with half a cheek on the low stool, Gao Yi felt quite proud of himself.
Who would not want their pupil to possess a photographic memory and draw broad inferences from a single point?
Presently, the Crown Prince chanted the classics alongside the lecturing officials, mastering the phrasing and pauses in no more than two passes.
When explanations and meanings were presented, he grasped them immediately, often deriving unique insights from the differing interpretations offered by the various lecturers and applying them to his own personal conduct and governance.
A clever disciple, a respectful student, and a benevolent, filial sovereign—he fulfilled almost every ideal Gao Yi could have wished for.
Watching Zhu Yijun at the imperial desk, chanting, pondering, or suddenly seeing the light, Gao Yi stroked his beard unconsciously, a smile spreading across his face.
Teaching such a classroom was sheer delight.
It was only when a nearby lecturer whispered softly in his ear that he realized it was already noon and the daily lecture had concluded.
Gao Yi hurriedly rose and stepped forward two paces. "Your Highness, that concludes today's lecture."
The other lecturers rose and bowed in unison.
Gao Yi prepared to take his leave along with them.
Yet from above came the Crown Prince's voice: "Teacher, please stay.
"During today's lecture, I gained a few insights. Why not dine with me, so you may offer your guidance?"
Gao Yi froze.
Dining alongside the sovereign was a privilege reserved only for the most highly favored ministers.
During the late emperor's reign, only Gao Gong had enjoyed such an honor.
To have it suddenly fall upon him now left him momentarily flustered.
He hurriedly clasped his hands, preparing to decline, but his gaze met the Crown Prince's hopeful, harmless eyes.
The refusal on the tip of his tongue miraculously transformed: "Since Your Highness possesses such a heart for study, how could your minister dare to disobey?"
Before he quite knew what was happening, Zhu Yijun took him by the hand and led him into the side chamber for dining.
"Teacher, I am currently in mourning, so the fare is somewhat plain. Please do not take offense," Zhu Yijun said apologetically.
Gao Yi thought nothing of it; he was long past the age of living for the pleasures of the palate.
To share a meal with the ruler, he would have gladly chewed on hay.
"Your Highness, please do not overwhelm your humble minister. The sovereign's heavenly grace is vast; your minister is deeply ashamed."
Even so, he assumed it was mere polite phrasing. The court was excessively extravagant; even in a period of mourning, how plain could it possibly be?
Yet when the imperial meal was carried in, he was left dumbfounded.
The lunch served to the Crown Prince consisted of a mere eight dishes.
Having earned his jinshi degree, Gao Yi had naturally read the *Records of the Nanjing Court of Imperial Entertainments*. Even a ruler as frugal as Taizu had twenty-four dishes for his midday meal.
Looking closer to home, when the late emperor had mourned Emperor Shizong, his midday meals had numbered as many as twenty-seven dishes.
Could this Crown Prince truly be this frugal?
Or was he being mistreated by the inner eunuchs?!
Sensing Gao Yi's doubt, Zhu Yijun explained gently, "Teacher need not worry. Cutting the imperial meal was my own doing."
In truth, he could never finish so many dishes anyway, so why be wasteful?
Having held high office for years in his past life, he had long shed any obsession with lavish food; six dishes and a soup in the agency cafeteria had been more than enough.
He continued, "The late emperor's bones are not yet cold. How could simple vegetarian fare adequately express the grief in my heart?
"Furthermore, several teachers once remarked that the realm's livelihood is withered and the common people suffer in hardship, with many unable to fill their bellies.
"As the sovereign father, how could I let my children suffer alone while indulging in limitless luxury myself?
"Doing this not only accumulates blessings for my Imperial Father, but also expresses my desire to share in the hardships of the common people.
"I fear I must have made Teacher laugh at my naivety."
Listening to Zhu Yijun's modest, soft-spoken words, Gao Yi felt a heavy tightness in his chest.
He was unwilling to ponder whether the Crown Prince was putting on a performance.
As a traditional scholar, witnessing a sovereign go to such lengths with his own eyes felt, regardless of the motive, like a stroke of immense heavenly fortune.
It was infinitely better than Emperor Shizong, who had claimed to possess only eight sets of robes for the four seasons yet lived in boundless luxury and treated the common folk like blades of grass.
Gao Yi quickly lowered his head to hide his emotion. "The suffering of the people is the crime of the Grand Secretariat; it is the crime of your minister."
Zhu Yijun waved his hand. "If the myriad regions commit offenses, the blame rests upon our imperial person."
Having formally accepted the accession petition only yesterday, taking a minor liberty with etiquette to refer to himself as *Zhen* was of no consequence.
He glanced toward the side of the chamber, where Zhang Hong's godson stood guard alongside Jiang Keqian, and exchanged a meaningful look with them.
The two tactfully dismissed the surrounding attendants and withdrew to a distance.
Zhu Yijun gestured for Gao Yi to be seated, speaking with earnest sincerity and deep feeling: "Teacher.
"For twenty-nine years, this realm has long gone without a single practical policy to pity the people. Harsh levies and extortionate taxes grind flesh and bone along the frontiers; fields, salt, tea, and wine drain the very marrow through whip and scourge.
"In this clamor, they are treated only like mortal enemies; in lamentation, who is there to act as their father and mother? It has driven our people into the depths of agony, with nowhere to turn."
He paused, then let out a sigh. "Teacher... the guilt is mine; the guilt belongs to our Zhu Ming imperial house."
Chapter 22