Chapter 127: Some Rejoice, Some Sorrow

Chongzhen was deeply vexed and torn, endlessly torn over that scrap of trouble in Liaodong and Dongjiang.

If Shanhai Pass and the Ning-Jin line were only a diversion, and the Jianzhou barbarians then threw everything into a furious assault on Dongjiang, then even if Mao Wenlong could hold out, he would likely be badly mauled.

On the other hand, what worried him even more was that if the Ming truly sent troops to strike at the Jianzhou barbarians' rear, the dynasty might suffer an even greater loss. After all, the cards in his own hand right now were hardly good, and he could not afford to lose.

Yet there were those even more tormented than Chongzhen. Kong Zhenyun at this moment wanted nothing more than to send every last one of those bastards of the northern lineage off to meet their ancestor, the Sage Confucius.

By his own reckoning, since the remains of the southern lineage's forebears had already been dug up from beneath Yangzhou and, damn it all, transported to Qufu, then even if the northern lineage did not turn out in full to kneel in welcome, they should at least have sent a few elders of high virtue and standing, thrown open the Chongguang Gate, and welcomed the forebears' remains back to the Confucian Grove, should they not?

There had been no problem with Kong Zhenyun's own investiture ceremony. After all, the eunuch bearing the imperial decree was present, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard escorting him south was present as well.

Even if those grandsons of the northern lineage were displeased, they had to carry out the investiture ceremony honestly and by the book.

What truly rankled Kong Zhenyun, however, was that once the decree-bearing eunuch and the Embroidered Uniform Guard had left, these fellows of the northern lineage showed their shameless true colors.

When he proposed throwing wide the Chongguang Gate, re-interring the successive Dukes of Yansheng of the southern lineage according to the funerary rites proper to a Duke of Yansheng, and burying each of the forebears with full ceremony, what had those bastards of the northern lineage said, one after another?

"The Duke of Yansheng of the southern lineage has already been buried once, and presumably in Yangzhou he was interred with the full rites of a Duke of Yansheng.

Now that he returns to the Confucian Grove, though it is a splendid occasion, it is nonetheless not in accord with propriety. How can there be any talk of a second burial with the rites of a duke or marquis?"

Still more, an elder of the northern lineage's clan rebuked Kong Zhenyun to his face: "You are no child of three, so how can you be so ignorant of ritual? Since the forebears have already been buried, how can you presume to disinter their bones?

Even had the Son of Heaven commanded it, you ought to have refused with all your strength. That is the way of a filial descendant!"

Others simply stated the matter outright: "The southern lineage has long since crossed south, and of the learning handed down by the ancestors, who knows how many layers remain.

Though the Son of Heaven has now enfeoffed you as Duke of Yansheng, if you wish the northern lineage to submit in sincere conviction, you must first prevail in debate upon the classics. Otherwise, you had best petition the Son of Heaven yourself to be relieved of the title."

There were even those who leaned on their age and seniority: "You callow whelp, what virtue or ability have you to inherit this title? Better that in a while you petition the Son of Heaven yourself to resign!"

When talk reached this point, all face had been utterly cast aside. Though Kong Zhenyun counted as young compared to these old fellows of seventy or eighty, he was after all a man past fifty.

By the saying of the time, at thirty one stands firm, at forty one is free of doubts, at fifty one knows the Mandate of Heaven. Fifty was the age of knowing Heaven's Mandate, and he was already nearing sixty, the age of the compliant ear — how could he be counted a callow whelp?

Those who could call Kong Zhenyun a callow whelp to his face were merely relying on their great age of seventy, eighty, or even ninety to bully him by sheer seniority.

For once one reached ninety, according to the Great Ming Code, those above ninety and below seven, except for the crime of rebellion, were not to be punished even for capital offenses.

This old man of ninety, let alone calling Kong Zhenyun a callow whelp, could even strike him to his face, and Kong Zhenyun could do nothing but take it — he had no choice but to take it.

Kong Zhenyun stroked his snow-white beard, and then reflected on being called a callow whelp. The divine beasts stampeding through his heart numbered far more than a thousand or ten thousand.

These bastards of the northern lineage could really talk nonsense.

Were it not for their grizzled beards and the seniority of their age and generation standing right there before him, he would have dearly loved to slap these old things flat against the wall so hard they could not be scraped off!

No matter how much Kong Zhenyun hated it in his heart, the matter still had to be handled. The remains of his own southern lineage's forebears could not simply be left lying outside the Confucian Grove, could they?

Even if these fellows leaned on their age and seniority, he could deal with them slowly later.

Having made up his mind, Kong Zhenyun said: "This title of Duke of Yansheng was originally yielded by the forebears of the southern lineage.

Now that the remains of the southern lineage's forebears return north to the family temple by the imperial command of the sagely Son of Heaven, this is entirely right and proper. To open the Chongguang Gate to receive the forebears' remains — what problem can there possibly be?"

Kong Yinchun, the hereditary County Magistrate of Qufu County, spoke up: "According to what Uncle says, of course there is no problem.

However, the rule of the Chongguang Gate is that it is not lightly opened except for the arrival of the Son of Heaven, the reading of an imperial edict, the worship of the Sage, or weddings and funerals.

Now that the bones of the southern lineage's forebears have already been buried once in Yangzhou with the full rites of a Duke of Yansheng, how can the Chongguang Gate be opened again for a second burial? What do you take the Chongguang Gate for?

Does Uncle still hold the Shizong Emperor in his eyes?"

How could Kong Zhenyun fail to hear the mockery in Kong Yinchun's tone? Seeing that this bastard did not take him seriously, he spoke coolly: "If we go by the generational order of the Kong family, I am the grandfather and you are the grandson.

If we go by court rank, you are a mere hereditary County Magistrate. Speaking to this Duke in such a manner — where is the propriety?

Is this what the northern lineage has taught you, you wretch?"

Kong Yinchun was momentarily at a loss for words, swallowed his resentment, and said no more. Strike the small one and out comes the old one.

Kong Wenying, who stood one generation above Kong Zhenyun, said: "If Yinchun has spoken improperly, this old man apologizes to you, Lord Duke, on his behalf. How is that?"

And with that, he made as if to rise, trembling, to bow to Kong Zhenyun.

By the generational order of the Kong family, Kong Wenying stood exactly one generation above Kong Zhenyun, and Kong Zhenyun had to call Kong Wenying uncle.

He had just used the seniority of a grandfather to put Kong Yinchun down, and now this old fossil Kong Wenying came out to use the seniority of an uncle to put him down in turn. Truly, retribution never missed its mark.

But however displeased Kong Zhenyun was in his heart, how could he dare accept a bow from Kong Wenying? If word of it got out, how could he ever hold his head up in the Kong family again?

In Qufu? In Shandong?

On a larger scale, how could he ever hold his head up in literati circles again? With the label of one who neither respected the aged nor honored his elders clapped upon him, this Duke of Yansheng personally enfeoffed by the Emperor would instantly become a colossal joke.

He hurriedly supported Kong Wenying, who was trying to rise, and said glumly: "What is Uncle doing? Is this not trying to crush your nephew to death? Your nephew was merely giving Yinchun a lesson, lest he suffer losses in officialdom later. Uncle must not take it to heart."

Hearing this, Kong Wenying did not press the matter further. After seating himself again, still trembling, he spoke once more: "Very well, let us set this matter aside for now. But as for the matter of Yinzhi — what plan do you have?"

Kong Zhenyun said glumly: "Why does Uncle bring this up again? The matter of Yinzhi is an ironclad case decided by the Son of Heaven himself. No one can save him. Shall we rather discuss the burial of the southern lineage's forebears?"

Kong Wenying, however, said: "These two matters can also be regarded as one and the same matter."

Finally managed to get a chapter out. It should not have been this late, but the client on the website side messed up their own data, then came over to the tyrant here to nag and pester and rush things endlessly, making it unbearably annoying. Only after resolving the problem did I get it written.

(End of Chapter)