Chapter 1538: Emperor Liu's Philosophy of Rule by Law

Emperor Liu's handling of those failed scholars who had raised a clamor at the imperial city was, as always, forceful in style—direct, crude, overbearing, and merciless. Though after all these years one had long grown accustomed to Emperor Liu's manner, witnessing it again still could not help but shake one's mind and spirit.

What Liu Yang thought and considered was still how to smoothly quell this disturbance and eliminate the adverse effects brought by the Drum of Appeal case. However, banning over a hundred scholars at once, under the current circumstances, was nothing short of adding fuel to the fire. Regardless of the original intent, and regardless of whether there was justification, the surging tide of public opinion was bound to persist for some time.

In the end, Liu Yang could not help but ask Emperor Liu for guidance—with such a crude prohibition on the examination qualifications of over a hundred scholars, would this not create adverse effects among the literati across the realm? How was this to be resolved?

To this, Emperor Liu merely said calmly: "Go ask those successful jinshi who passed. Go ask those who failed yet remained law-abiding and looked forward to the next examination cycle!

If there were indeed irregularities in this selection, then the conduct of these people would be understandable, and I naturally would not reproach them severely. But since you have investigated the matter thoroughly, then their clamoring and stirring up trouble makes their motives suspect. Their hearts deserve death, and their deeds cannot be forgiven—they must be punished!

The court naturally treats scholars and students well and needs to recruit their talents, but that does not mean indulging their bookish willfulness. The court's institutions, the court's dignity—how can they be permitted to be defiled?"

Emperor Liu's line of thinking was also very clear—purely results-oriented. Whether active or passive, since they had waded into this murky water, there ought to be consequences. Everyone must pay the price for their own choices and actions.

Emperor Liu's purpose was equally clear: the authority and institutions of the court must be upheld. Banning those troublemaking failed scholars was also meant to serve as a warning to those who came after, lest they bring ruin upon themselves.

"I roughly know your concerns, but you worry too much!" Finally, Emperor Liu admonished Liu Yang once more: "Remember this—you are the Crown Prince. What you represent is the imperial house, is the state.

The court has its own institutional rules, and your stance must be firm. What you ought to consider is how the court operates, how officials are kept clean and orderly, how the common people are kept at peace—not pandering to the sentiments of some scholars and students.

Scholars are indeed the court's reserve of talent, and outstanding ones need to be selected and appointed. But before they become court officials, they are merely commoners in plain clothes, no different in any great measure from farmers, artisans, and merchants.

Moreover, among these scholars, quite a few have already served in clerical posts in the localities—they are already within the court's institutional framework. And even so, they still dare to gather crowds and make trouble, treating the court's authority as if it were nothing. Such unruly scholars—no matter how lofty their learning, what use are they? Let alone the fact that they are merely a bunch of failed candidates..."

With these words, Emperor Liu tore to shreds the gentle and lenient image toward scholars that had been cultivated over the past decade or more. Beneath that warm and tender veneer lay nothing but the coldness and ruthlessness of a tyrant.

Though the court needed learned, capable, and knowledgeable literati to govern, clearly in Emperor Liu's mind, the educated were not much different from those who tilled the land, did business, sailed boats, or repaired roads. All were placed within the vast and complex administrative system of the Great Han, playing the roles they ought to play and making the contributions befitting their station.

Under this premise, Emperor Liu evidently placed greater emphasis on the court's institutions and laws, and cared more about the dignity of imperial authority. On this point, countless cases in the past could serve as evidence.

All along, Emperor Liu had detested people who did not follow the rules. He preferred to see the subjects of the Great Han under his rule obediently bound within the framework of the Great Han's laws and institutions. All who overstepped, or attempted to overstep, ought to be struck down.

This time, those clamoring failed scholars were simply unlucky—they had happened to touch the sensitive nerve of Emperor Liu's thinking. In the past, there had been instances of scholars and commoners gathering to petition. Not to mention a hundred people—even a thousand or ten thousand was not unheard of. But it depended on what the cause was and what the purpose was.

Last winter, tens of thousands of commoners inside and outside the Eastern Capital had gathered to petition, hoping Emperor Liu would perform the Fengshan sacrifices! Even earlier, scholars and commoners had gathered to submit memorials requesting the court to send troops to pacify the south and rescue the southern people suffering in dire straits.

But anyone with discerning eyes could see that behind those were court departments and offices such as the Kaifeng administration and the Pacification Commission providing guidance. Under normal circumstances, law-abiding good citizens—how could they engage in gathering and assembly? Such people were either driven by vested interests or harbored political ambitions.

Therefore, from the moment those hundred-odd failed scholars gathered at the imperial city, Emperor Liu had already been displeased, categorizing it as assembling a crowd to make trouble and picking quarrels to provoke disturbance.

As he had said, if this spring's metropolitan examination truly had problems—if the chief examiner had shown favoritism—then some leniency could be granted. But the facts were not so, and punishment was therefore mandatory.

And from Emperor Liu's own heart, even if Li Fang had truly engaged in favoritism and fraud, the court would naturally investigate and deal with it. The conduct of that group of failed scholars was, moreover, pressuring the court and questioning its authority—truly intolerable.

In comparison, Xu Shilian held the advantage of striking first. In many cases, the instigators get off scot-free while the followers suffer the consequences—that is simply how it is.

The current empire of the Great Han—this social management system perfected under Emperor Liu's direction—was at its core still rule by men. But Emperor Liu clearly believed more in rule by law, and over the past twenty-odd years had consistently devoted himself to perfecting the court's laws and institutions.

Of course, this did not mean Emperor Liu possessed any particularly lofty legal philosophy or enlightenment. It was simply a matter of position and principle—the backside determines the head. The construction of that entire system of laws and institutions, besides maintaining the stability of the state and the normal functioning of the court, had at its core the consolidation of imperial power.

Within the Great Han's system, Emperor Liu was the greatest beneficiary of the status quo—how could he not rack his brains to maintain and strengthen it?

And the end point of the Great Han's rule by law pointed directly at Emperor Liu's rule by men, serving to uphold the Liu clan's rule over the realm as their private patrimony.

"Alright, go back and think it over carefully yourself!" Seeing Liu Yang lost in thought before him, Emperor Liu waved his hand without waiting for him to finish digesting: "You are still a bit too lenient. In governing the state and pacifying the people, the way of benevolence and forbearance is certainly useful, but you cannot rely solely on those two words!

Taken too far, it becomes indulgence and permissiveness, and the harm it ultimately causes may exceed your imagination. You are the Crown Prince, the heir apparent. Do not always stand in others' shoes and worry too much about others' thoughts. The heir apparent is also a sovereign—do not trap yourself in a subject's mentality!"

"Yes!" Emperor Liu's words nearly stabbed into the depths of Liu Yang's heart. He bowed respectfully in salute.

Yet bitterness was unavoidable in his heart. He knew that in some respects he still did not measure up to Emperor Liu's expectations. But the flaws of one's character were truly hard to change—after all, he did not possess Emperor Liu's authority, and could not possibly do the same.

Moreover, he was the Crown Prince—merely the Crown Prince—half sovereign, half subject. How could he truly stand from the perspective of an emperor in his thinking and actions? If he truly did so, it might not necessarily be a good thing.

"Alright, the wrapping up of this matter will be left to you. I will not interfere!" A trace of a smile reappeared on his face, as if the severity of a moment ago had all been an illusion. Emperor Liu instructed: "It is getting late. Withdraw and rest!"

"Yes! Your son takes his leave!"

Watching Liu Yang's departing figure and sensing the heaviness of his mood, Emperor Liu smiled again—a smile of knowing satisfaction. He truly did not care so much about the results of this investigation; what he observed was the process.

Liu Yang's performance clearly could not earn full marks, but at least it was passing. At least he had not been swayed by public sentiment or blinded by interests. At least he had shown a measure of responsibility, unafraid of rumors and criticism, and his methods had been upright and aboveboard.

In Emperor Liu's estimation, as a Crown Prince, Liu Yang was already qualified. But as an emperor, there were still many deficiencies and much room for improvement.

However, there was a precondition: he must first be an emperor. A Crown Prince was, after all, only a Crown Prince. Therefore, toward Liu Yang, though Emperor Liu occasionally reproached him harshly, in the end he still harbored a measure of understanding and tolerance, and was willing to protect this heir he had painstakingly cultivated.

For Liu Yang, being the Crown Prince under an emperor like Emperor Liu was somewhat difficult, with a heavy psychological burden. But equally, for Emperor Liu, having such a Crown Prince was also a rare blessing.

Walk on, and cherish what one has!