These words came from the bottom of Zhu Yijun’s heart. Once one mounted the throne, incompetence was an original sin.
Gao Yi hurriedly pushed back his seat and rose. "This subject—"
Zhu Yijun cut him off. "Please sit, Teacher. These are my innermost thoughts.
"During today's lecture on 'The Timber of the Catalpa,' I wholeheartedly agreed with what the lecturers said."
Zhu Yijun picked up a chopstick and, disregarding etiquette, tapped the rim of his bowl.
Ting... ting...
He began to recite in a slow cadence: "'Do not butcher one another; do not oppress one another; show reverence to the widowed and shelter the helpless, so that all may find a place.'
"'May the King emulate the regional lords and their officers. What is his mandate? To guide, to nourish, and to bring peace.'"
Finishing the two lines, Zhu Yijun set down his chopstick and continued before Gao Yi could speak.
"Tanhua Yu explained it best. To guide, nourish, and bring peace means allowing the common folk to thrive and live in enduring tranquility.
"Since I am both sovereign and father, how could I not keep the common people etched upon my heart?
"Teacher, I have no desire to become Emperor Hui of Jin, asking why the starving don't just eat minced meat."
Gao Yi fell silent, his thoughts drifting away.
He stared blankly at the Crown Prince, a verse suddenly surfacing in his mind—*I was born before you were, and by the time you were born, I was already old.*
In that fleeting instant, Gao Yi felt as though he had returned to his twentieth year. He saw the humble schoolhouse back in Qiantang County where he had once studied; he saw his younger self, full of vigor and impassioned rhetoric, pointing across the rivers and mountains.
Back then, he had thought of what he would do once he became an official.
Back then, he had believed that once he reached the halls of power, he would accomplish great things.
A mere scholar, he had spent his days dissecting the court gazettes with his classmates, scheming for the fate of the realm.
At that most ridiculous, yet most fervent age, he too had brimmed with youthful ambition.
Looking back now, in the blink of an eye, more than half a century had passed, and he was tottering toward old age.
He had nearly forgotten when his fiery blood had grown cold, and why it had cooled.
Ah... it was the bureaucratic cesspool of rampant graft and factional strife; it was Emperor Shizong, who had backed Yan Song to amass wealth while disregarding the populace; it was the late emperor, who had spent his days curled up in the inner palace consuming potent aphrodisiacs and demanding beauties.
Looking back today, it all felt like an illusion, like waking from a dream.
Now, as he looked at the Crown Prince, he saw his former self—a boy with an impassioned heart that embraced the world.
Gao Yi suddenly understood why his own teacher, who had resigned his post to return home and lecture, used to gaze through the window with that peculiar look in his eyes as they passionately debated affairs of state.
He quietly watched Zhu Yijun, emotions churning within his chest until his nose stung with sorrow.
*Alas, who is truly a father and mother to them, leaving my people to suffer in misery with no one to plead to...*
As the words echoed through his mind once more, Gao Yi could scarcely hold back his tears.
What was a sovereign-father? What was a parent official? Who were the children of the state?
Questions that should have required no explanation had, in this present age, become castles in the air and mirages on the sea.
It had come to the point where even the common folk were utterly bewildered. Where was their sovereign-father? Where were their parent officials? To whom could they bring their grievances?
They said that children spoke without guile and possessed an innocent, untainted heart. Yet the Crown Prince’s heartfelt declaration was even more benevolent and honest than Gao Yi had ever imagined—like an uncut jade whose inner brilliance could not be obscured.
Acting as both sovereign and father, keeping the common folk in his heart... After serving through two reigns, had Gao Yi finally lived to see a sage ruler?
Gao Yi choked back a sob and bowed with utter sincerity. "Your Highness's benevolence and virtue are truly the great fortune of the dynasty.
"This subject only hopes Your Highness will not forget what you have attained today, and that in the future, you will care for the common folk and allow them to rest and recover."
These words were somewhat overstepping the bounds of protocol. How could a minister tell his sovereign to remember the words of this day?
Yet Gao Yi, who considered himself a true scholar, simply could not suppress the impulse.
This was not a minister's remonstrance to a ruler, nor was it a teacher's demand of a student. It was merely a scholar, having heard words of shared conviction, offering encouragement to a kindred spirit.
Zhu Yijun hurriedly reached out to gesture for Gao Yi to rise, feeling deeply moved.
The power of ritual and propriety was truly too formidable against these rigid Confucian scholars.
Simply putting on a slight display of a dutiful emperor had moved the old man to tears.
Thousands of years of cultural momentum, rooted deep in the human heart, indeed possessed an irresistible force.
Unfortunately, every coin had two sides. While he could wield it with ease today, when the time came to push through new reforms in the future, ritual and propriety would likewise become a stubborn, foul-smelling stumbling block.
Zhu Yijun shook his head, banishing the stray thoughts from his mind.
He continued gently, leading the conversation forward: "The sovereign speaks no idle words. I dare not forget them, and in the future, I will certainly guide, nourish, and bring peace to the people.
"Yet as things stand today, I am young and lacking in virtue, with shallow knowledge. In governing the realm, propagating moral teachings, and sustaining the populace, I must rely heavily on you, Teacher."
Faced with the Crown Prince's ardent expectations, Gao Yi felt the gaze weigh upon him like a thousand jin. "This subject’s learning is negligible, and my talents fall short of an ordinary man’s. I am merely a base fellow who has usurped a high station.
"Your Highness possesses innate wisdom, clear discernment, and sagacity. In time, your abilities will far surpass those of this humble subject."
Gao Yi spoke out of both modesty and self-mockery.
Now sitting in the Grand Secretariat, he had stepped into the highest halls of power. He was above thousands and held the state's great policies in his hands.
Yet what had he accomplished?
Nothing at all.
He had neither fulfilled the ambitions of his youth nor upheld the scholar’s duty to bring relief to the world.
The second half of his life could truly be described as drawing a salary while doing nothing.
Zhu Yijun shook his head with a touch of mournfulness. "On the day before my imperial father passed, he entrusted the regency and the care of my person to you three gentlemen. Please do not belittle yourself, Teacher.
"The Senior Grand Secretary was my imperial father's teacher. Back then, my imperial father held his hands with tears in his eyes and told him that he was burdening him with the realm.
"Now, I am young and lacking in virtue. Is my teacher unwilling to bear burdens for my sake as well?"
With the common people in his left hand and the late emperor’s dying bequest in his right, Zhu Yijun assumed the posture of a sage ruler, continually shaking Gao Yi to his core.
Gao Yi’s lips quivered; he was visibly overwhelmed.
Deeply moved, he said with utmost reverence, "The heavenly grace is vast. This subject will never dare to betray it."
Only then did Zhu Yijun smile.
He sat down gracefully. "Please sit, Teacher. The midday meal is growing cold. Let us not waste Heaven's bounty; every grain comes from bitter toil."
Unable to compose his emotions for a time, Gao Yi sat back down without another word.
During the meal, Zhu Yijun asked a few casual questions about classical scholarship, displaying the eager attitude of an ardent student.
Several times, he touched upon topics close to Gao Yi's heart, prompting the elder minister to discard his reserve and speak with animated fervor.
Seeing that the moment was ripe, Zhu Yijun subtly steered the conversation. "Teacher's explanation of filial piety was truly profound. I must put it into practice diligently."
With that, he let out a soft sigh.
Gao Yi asked in puzzlement, "Why does Your Highness sigh?"
Zhu Yijun explained in a measured tone, "There is something you do not know, Teacher. The late emperor instructed me to serve the Two Palaces with filial devotion, yet I often fail to do so adequately.
"Lately, I have noticed that my mother is irritable and distressed. She must be troubled by something. But when I ask, she cites state affairs as an excuse, claiming she fears disrupting my studies, and refuses to let me know.
"When a mother has worries that I cannot dispel, Teacher, can I still be called filial?"
The moment the Crown Prince mentioned this, Gao Yi understood at once what matter he was referring to.
In recent days, the two major difficulties in the court deliberations—the Evaluation Law and the palace treasury—had caused rather unpleasant friction with Noble Consort Li, leading to an intractable standoff.
Yet hearing the Crown Prince bring it up now made Gao Yi feel somewhat embarrassed.
There was the principle of concealing the faults of the honorable, and these matters involved the sordid power struggle between the inner and outer courts. Discussing such things with a child was inherently unseemly.
Seeing his hesitation, Zhu Yijun asked with an innocent gaze, "Teacher, what exactly happened in the court to upset my mother? Could you fulfill my filial wish and tell me here in private?"
For a moment, Gao Yi did not know how to answer.
Zhu Yijun quickly pressed, "Teacher, my mother has been deeply misled by Feng Bao. I fear she has been deceived from above and below, which is why she is at odds with the court ministers.
"If you tell me, I can help mediate between them. Wouldn't that serve both sides?"
Gao Yi paused, finding some merit in the boy's words. Setting aside the Crown Prince’s filial intent, Consort Li resided deep within the imperial palace, where outer ministers could only present memorials. Conversely, this student of his was at her side every day. If he truly had the mind to do so, he could indeed mediate between the inner and outer courts.
After a moment's thought, Gao Yi quickly convinced himself.
"Your Highness may not know, but the inner and outer courts are currently in turmoil over two matters..."
Gao Yi recounted the circumstances in full detail, believing all the while that Zhu Yijun knew nothing of them.
Having heard him out, Zhu Yijun furrowed his brows and pressed, feigning ignorance, "Is the Senior Grand Secretary not planning to transfer those one hundred thousand taels into the palace treasury?"
Gao Yi quickly explained, "Of course that is not the case. At present, the Ministry of Rites requires funds for the grand ceremonies, the Ministry of Works must build the imperial mausoleum, and the Yellow River is undergoing its summer floods. Each urgently withdrew a sum of silver, leaving the Ministry of Revenue stretched thin.
"The Grand Secretariat’s intention is to wait until the summer taxes are collected before transferring the silver into the palace treasury."
Zhu Yijun gave an understanding nod.
In an exceedingly reasonable manner, he said, "Since there is a valid cause, I can certainly persuade my mother. At a time like this, we must endure for the sake of the realm and overcome the hardship together."
Gao Yi was once again deeply moved by the new sovereign's magnanimity.
Having addressed that issue, Zhu Yijun then hesitated. "Yet this Evaluation Law seems rather tricky... It appears it might severely harm the sovereign's virtue."
Harming the sovereign's virtue meant offending people.
A flicker of surprise crossed Gao Yi's eyes. He could not help but marvel at his disciple’s sharp political intuition and keen understanding of human nature.
After only hearing a brief overview, the boy had immediately recognized where the resistance lay.
After a brief pause, Gao Yi made no attempt to disguise the truth and could only nod helplessly. "It is indeed fraught with difficulties."
This was the drawback of having the inner palace oversee the regency: a lack of resolve to bear the burden.
As Laozi said, *To bear the insult of the state is to be called the master of the altars of earth and grain; to bear the calamity of the state is to be the king of all under heaven.*
How could anyone who governed the realm avoid offending people?
Emperor Guangwu of Han had offended no one and seemed radiant in the history books, but that only showed there were actions he ought to have taken that he had shrunk from.
Zigong had once asked Confucius: "What if everyone in the village likes a person?"
The Master had replied: "That is not enough. Better if the good people in the village like him, and the bad people hate him."
Having everyone call someone a good person was nowhere near as good as being praised by the virtuous and despised by the wicked.
Unfortunately, Noble Consort Li did not understand this principle.
This had caused the Evaluation Law to stall indefinitely—unless someone was willing to shoulder the blame on her behalf. Gao Gong was currently preparing to step forward and do precisely that.
Regrettably, out of respect for the imperial family, Gao Yi could not voice these thoughts to the Crown Prince.
Zhu Yijun pondered for a moment, then looked at Gao Yi with pure, unblemished eyes. "Teacher, is the Evaluation Law a sound policy for governing the realm?"
Without the slightest hesitation, Gao Yi nodded. "Your Highness, the civil administration today is plagued by perfunctory compliance, lethargy, and rampant corruption. It must be rectified!"
He had studied Zhang Juzheng’s Evaluation Law carefully. Once implemented, it would undoubtedly cleanse the administration effectively.
As for how successful it would be, that depended on whether all factions could work together in harmony.
Hearing Gao Yi’s words, Zhu Yijun gave a firm nod and said resolutely, "Since Teacher says so, it must be right. For the sake of the Great Ming, I will surely persuade my mother!"
Saying this, he smiled sheepishly. "It is just that this Evaluation Law is too aggressive. If the Senior Grand Secretary and my mother could each take a step back, I would have much greater confidence."
Gao Yi was profoundly moved, while also feeling a touch of shame for inadvertently using the Crown Prince to influence the inner palace.
He took a deep breath and said with full confidence, "If Your Highness can ascertain Noble Consort Li’s thoughts, I will certainly be able to persuade the Senior Grand Secretary."
As a regent minister, the weight of his words went without saying.
No matter how unyielding Gao Gong was or how obstinate Zhang Juzheng proved to be, refusing to compromise would mean failing to see the bigger picture. And Gao Yi was not without an edge of his own!
Zhu Yijun was overjoyed.
He said, "In that case, once I finish my midday meal, I shall go persuade my mother. Once there is an outcome, I will send someone to inform you, Teacher.
"To convince my mother, there may be some adjustments.
"When the time comes, I must ask you to help smooth things over with the Senior Grand Secretary and Grand Secretary Zhang."
Gao Yi held his head high and nodded in agreement.
***
Even after his shift ended for the day, Gao Yi was still turning over the shared meal and the conversation he had had with the Crown Prince.
The moment he arrived home, he could not wait to enter his study. Sitting before his desk, he lifted his brush to record the day's events.
He paused at times to recall, and at other times to choose his words carefully.
*Using great righteousness to reveal an innocent heart...*
He bent over his desk, writing furiously as if guided by divine inspiration.
He wrote in one flowing breath until the very end, where he paused, pondering how best to bring it to a close.
For a time, he could not think of an appropriate conclusion.
*Knock! Knock! Knock!*
Lost in contemplation, Gao Yi was startled back to his senses by the knocking at the door.
"Master, someone from the palace is here," the old servant outside called out.
Gao Yi hurriedly rose and went out to receive them.
When he reached the gate, he saw to his surprise that it was Zhang Hong, the Crown Prince's personal attendant, who had come in person.
Behind him followed a young eunuch carrying an object.
Gao Yi quickly said, "Director Zhang, please come in."
Zhang Hong took a couple of steps forward, stopping in the courtyard, and greeted him with a broad smile. "Greetings, Grand Secretary.
"A tribute of lychees arrived from Yunnan recently. This afternoon, the Crown Prince requested grace from Noble Consort Li to distribute them to officials of the third rank and above across the ministries and courts.
"I have other places to visit, so I will not trouble you further, Grand Secretary."
With that, he made a gesture, and the young eunuch stepped forward, presenting the tray.
Gao Yi quickly voiced his thanks for the imperial favor.
Watching his old servant take the tray, he noticed it was lined with blocks of ice, exuding a cool mist.
Plump, round lychees rested inside a golden cup.
Gao Yi instructed his old servant to fetch another vessel to transfer them into.
Zhang Hong hastily stopped him. "Grand Secretary, this cup belongs to the Crown Prince. Yesterday, during the clearing of Ciqing Palace, the Prince deemed it too extravagant and wanted to seal it away.
"Today, he changed his mind, saying that locking away wealth in the palace was merely wasting Heaven's gifts.
"In his benevolence, the Prince asked for Noble Consort Li's consent to bestow this object upon you as well, so that it might help supplement your household expenses."
Gao Yi was stunned. Just as he was about to speak, Zhang Hong bowed with a smile and led the young eunuch away.
Gao Yi watched Zhang Hong’s departing figure, raising a hand as if wanting to call out, yet holding back.
After a long while, he still had not spoken.
He seemed frozen in the courtyard.
The old servant, not daring to disturb him, was about to carry the tray into the study.
Finally, Gao Yi spoke.
He lowered his raised hand and let out a wistful sigh. "Let me take it."
The old servant knew that his master acted this way whenever he was deep in thought, so he murmured an acknowledgment and withdrew.
Gao Yi quietly carried the tray inside and set it upon the desk.
He felt around the tray holding the lychees and retrieved a short note from beneath the cloth liner.
Written upon it were words attributed to Noble Consort Li, mentioning things like "pilot program" and "performance pay."
Yet he did not examine it closely; after a single glance, he set it aside.
Instead, his eyes fixed intently upon the golden cup, and he sank into a prolonged silence.
In a daze, he seemed to see the Crown Prince’s face.
His young student was raising a cup toward him with an earnest expression.
*"Teacher, let us share a drink from this golden cup,"* the Crown Prince seemed to say.
Was the Crown Prince... taking the first half of Emperor Taizu's story to declare his heartfelt intentions?
Could he, Gao Yi, truly live to see a harmonious union between ruler and minister in this lifetime?
After a long silence, he looked toward the unfinished record on his desk and the still-wet ink.
Stirred by an inner impulse, Gao Yi finally moved.
He slowly lifted his brush and stared at the end of the text he had just written.
Gathering his sleeve, he put brush to paper slowly and deliberately, writing down the final sentence:
*"...Therefore, Heaven's favor comforts only the sage; renowned ministers must await a true sovereign."*
Chapter 23