Chapter 2124: Kangzong Chronicles 10: The Old Minister in His Declining Years

PS: This chapter is filler.

On the first day of the ninth month of autumn in the fourth year of Pingkang, on the official road outside Yanyan Post Station, former Director of State Affairs Zhang Qixian was about to embark on his journey away from the capital.

The evening mist hung heavy, the sky stretched vast and boundless, and the bleak autumn wind blew against his face, his snow-white beard and hair fluttering freely. The sounds of barbarian tunes came in waves, horses neighed mournfully—even the bustling prosperity of the great post station of the Western Capital could not dispel the faint melancholy on Zhang Qixian's aged face.

At sixty-eight years of age, an old man should not be so disheartened, but gazing at the road of disappointment ahead, he suddenly realized that he was not so perceptive of the world's affairs after all, and within his heart surged boundless sighs and regret.

The reason Zhang Qixian was dismissed from the chancellorship was simple: at the Mid-Autumn imperial banquet, he became drunk and lost his composure, nearly offending the Sacred Person. First he was punished by being confined to his residence for self-reflection, and within a few days, his post as Director of State Affairs was stripped away.

Of course, this was merely the surface appearance. The fundamental reason lay in Emperor Liu Wenpeng's strengthening of his influence over court politics, and his increased marginalization and suppression of these "imperially appointed assisting ministers" represented by Zhang Qixian.

Compared to the Prince of Lu's demotion and departure from the capital to his fief, Zhang Qixian's dismissal from the chancellorship did not involve intense confrontation or struggle—it even seemed to come naturally. At the same time, there may well have been an element of Zhang Qixian actively seeking retirement.

On one hand, Zhang Qixian was already old—calling him a candle in the wind would not be an exaggeration. Declining energy was inevitable. Facing the complex and tangled government affairs and human hearts both inside and outside the court, he was already beyond his capacity—how could he still resist the Emperor's targeting?

On the more important hand, the old Chancellor's heart was weary. During the nearly four years of assisting governance, Zhang Qixian had been diligent and conscientious, but in truth he had done only one thing: continuing the "Yongxi governance" of Emperor Taizong. Amidst the various disputes rising and falling within the court, all his decisions and actions stood on this fundamental position.

Compared to Li Hang, Lü Mengzheng, and others who still harbored loftier political ideals and aspirations, Zhang Qixian was more like the last guardian of "Yongxi governance," carefully maintaining it and struggling to support it. Therefore, the past four years could well be called the "Post-Yongxi Era."

But by now, that situation clearly could no longer be maintained. The Emperor was the Pingkang Emperor, yet he was expected to keep the entire empire, from top to bottom, bearing the visage of the Yongxi era. This was not only making things difficult for the Emperor, but also for himself and the rest of the ruling class. It was unrealistic and did not conform to "objective laws."

When the last remaining conviction in his heart was on the verge of collapse, keeping Zhang Qixian in the position of Chief Chancellor—never mind whether the Emperor could bear it—Zhang Qixian himself no longer had the heart to stay. Leaving the court in this manner, though somewhat damaging to his dignity, was not necessarily a bad ending.

Moreover, unlike the Prince of Lu, Liu Wenpeng still granted him basic decency, allowing him to retire with the title of Grand Minister of Works, and at the same time ordering the construction of a Caoyang Earl Manor in Zhang Qixian's hometown of Caozhou as his retirement residence. (In the fourteenth year of Yongxi, Zhang Qixian was granted the title of First-Class Earl of Caoyang by Emperor Taizong.)

Regardless, Zhang Qixian's ending carried a bit more benevolence, and Emperor Liu Wenpeng, for the first time, did not act entirely on impulse, unexpectedly giving the empire's Chief Chancellor a measure of respect.

However, after retiring, Zhang Qixian did not immediately return east to Caozhou to rest, but instead chose to travel west, for two reasons. First, his second son, Zhang Zonghui, was serving as Prefectural Administrator of Yanzhou. Although he had considerable skill in suppressing local unrest and quelling disturbances, and had achieved much in his post, there had also been repeated reports of harassment of the people and personal conduct issues—things that brought shame to the ever-illustrious Zhang Qixian, who wanted to see for himself.

Second, Zhang Qixian planned to conduct another survey of the great northwest. Now freed from the constraints of the chancellorship and with leisure time, he wanted to summarize some problems he had overlooked during his previous governance.

As for the great northwest, since the time of Emperor Shizu, it had always received special attention and deep concern. After all, it had been lost to the Central Kingdom for two hundred years, and after suffering erosion from barbarian states such as the Tibetans and Uyghurs, it was not difficult for Han civilization to restore civilization and take root anew—but it was difficult to eliminate those historical leftover problems, especially those hidden beneath Sinicization: problems of those who outwardly submitted to Han rule but secretly opposed it, customs problems, ethnic problems, and religious problems.

Going back forty years, even setting aside the impact of the western campaigns, the northwest was the most unstable region of the Great Han Empire, and also the area the court focused on managing and consolidating—from Shizu to Taizong, and even to the present day. The resources the court invested in the northwest and the national strength it expended exceeded those spent on Monan, Liaodong, and the southwest.

In this process, many capable officials and able administrators rose in the northwest. No matter how many disturbances occurred, how severely the court shook things up, or what purges were carried out, the "Northwest Faction" of meritorious nobles and bureaucrats was the faction with the strongest cohesion in the empire, and on the political stage of the Great Han, their active figures were never lacking.

At the same time, the Northwest Faction was perhaps also the most open and least xenophobic faction in the empire, because many of its meritorious nobles and bureaucrats were themselves "outsiders," and over the past few decades, the northwest's political leaders—such as Lu Duoxun, Wang You, Wang Ming, and others—were all without exception from other regions and prefectures.

For decades, from the circuit offices on down, too many heroes and talents from other regions, after undergoing the arduous tempering of the great northwest, were reborn and became the pillars and beams of the empire.

And Zhang Qixian happened to be from the Northwest Faction. His experience more than twenty years ago in rescuing and governing Yulin was the most precious resource of his political career. At court, Zhang Qixian might find it difficult to suppress the many factions, but within the Northwest Faction—at least within the northwest's civil official system—he was a banner-carrying leader. Moreover, since the Yulin Rebellion—more precisely, since the court completely halted the western campaign policy, rectified malpractices, and reformed people's livelihoods—the northwest had seen no major disturbances for nearly twenty years.

Toward this, Zhang Qixian was both delighted and unavoidably worried. He knew all too well the special nature of the northwest region. As one of the empire's most ethnically diverse and customarily complex areas, it naturally contained the seeds of turmoil and unrest.

Having been away from the northwest for many years, Zhang Qixian could not help but think of danger in times of safety, especially when Emperor Liu Wenpeng was not entirely reassuring.

Thus was his westward journey in his later years brought about. He had served in office for over forty years, working hard for the country and the people all his life—he was long accustomed to it. Truly letting him quietly grow old in his final years until death came was something he could not do.

This westward journey of Zhang Qixian's later years was ultimately written by him into a book: *The Western Travels of the Duke of Raoyang*.

From the perspective of later generations, this was not merely a survey and travel record, but also a political chronicle, involving descriptions of the northwest's politics, military, economy, culture, and people's livelihoods, interspersed with a great deal of Zhang Qixian's experience and reflections on governing the state. It greatly presented Zhang Qixian's significant influence on the Great Han Empire's politics, military, and economy during the Yongxi period, especially the late Yongxi period, and reflected a great deal of the conditions of the "Kaibao Golden Age" and the "Yongxi Governance," making it extremely valuable for historians studying the "Kai-Yong Golden Age."

Back at Yanyan Post Station, accompanying Zhang Qixian westward were only five or six servants and guards, along with his youngest son, Zhang Zongxin. And those who came to see him off numbered only two: Finance Commissioner Li Hang and Left Deputy Censor-in-Chief Lu Zongdao. Of course, as a former Chief Chancellor, it was not so bleak as that—Zhang Qixian simply left suddenly and deliberately avoided notice.

Finance Commissioner Li Hang needed no further introduction. Lu Zongdao was a famous remonstrance official at court, known by the reputation of "Little Wang Yucheng." Because of his outspoken remonstrance and strict adherence to law, he had offended many people. Zhang Qixian was considered his benefactor and mentor, and had often protected him at court.

"Brother Taichu, this old man has played the deserter, ashamed before the late emperors, utterly humiliated. The affairs of the court shall henceforth rely greatly on you, brother. I hope you will act with caution and take good care of yourself!" Putting away the melancholy on his aged face, Zhang Qixian clasped his hands and bowed solemnly to Li Hang, whose beard and hair were likewise gray and who wore plain civilian dress.

Li Hang maintained his usual refined demeanor. Even with white hair, he remained composed and unmovable as a mountain. Sensing Zhang Qixian's complex emotions, he returned the bow with clasped hands and replied with extraordinary calm: "Brother Shiliang speaks too gravely! I too have been deeply favored by the two late emperors, Shizu and Taizong. This resolve of mine shall not change—I shall bend every effort and give my all until death. That is all."

"Brother Taichu's magnanimity is vast—I am no match for you!" Hearing this, Zhang Qixian smiled in shame.

Having said this, he turned his head to look at Lu Zongdao, whose expression remained rigid even while seeing him off. After a moment's thought, he raised his finger and said: "Guanzhi, you are upright and outspoken, hating evil with little tolerance. The court needs loyal and upright men like you—you simply lack some flexibility. I only hope that in the future, when you encounter matters, you can be a bit more adaptable, so that you may endure long!"

Facing Zhang Qixian's admonition, Lu Zongdao's expression relaxed somewhat. He laughed heartily, and his words remained as blunt as ever: "The Chancellor should know that when Lu Zongdao offers remonstrance, he speaks no flattery and deceives no sovereign. Every matter is handled with public interest, pragmatism, and the pursuit of righteousness. If I were to pursue the empty reputation of remonstrance, or fear to speak out, becoming one of those muddled fools, I would rather resign from office and return home to teach."

"Moreover, the Son of Heaven is not as brilliant and mighty as the ancestors—he precisely needs loyal words and good counsel to guide him. If we ministers do not speak up, would we not let petty men have their way?"

Lu Zongdao was clearly the type who would not turn back until he hit the wall. Seeing his impassioned bearing and solemn expression, Zhang Qixian could no longer admonish him on his philosophy of governance and conduct. Forcibly lecturing him might even damage their teacher-student bond.

"Take care!"

In the end, a single farewell laden with deep emotion concluded this quiet send-off. All three were learned men, but neither did they break willow branches nor compose poetry. Zhang Qixian simply left, departing the capital region where he had spent nearly twenty years.

However, as he stepped onto the carriage shaft, Zhang Qixian could not help but look back. At the far edge of his vision, the Western Capital stood majestic, the Qianyuan Tower rose high. On the verge of departing, the old Chancellor's heart still yearned for the court, still concerned for the Emperor, and in his hazy gaze there was also a trace of hidden worry for the empire's future.

Toward Emperor Liu Wenpeng, Zhang Qixian was clearly not entirely reassured, let alone having "confidence" in him. But regardless, having left that position, his ability to exert influence on the Great Han Empire was now negligible.

He could only silently pray that after the Emperor took personal rule, he might change somewhat, cause less trouble, and not ruin the foundation painstakingly built by the two generations of emperors, Shizu and Taizong.