Chapter 2172: Taizong Chronicles 40: The Passing of the Empress Dowager and the Prince; The Empire's Decade

In the eighth year of Jianlong, Liu Wenji, as Emperor, found the constraints upon him further weakened. Beyond his increasingly adept control over courtiers and the political situation, this was also because the older generation of powerful nobles were passing away one after another.

Of course, if one were to speak of those who could still exert significant influence or even intimidation over Liu Wenji, there were only a scant few. Empress Dowager Murong passed away at the end of winter in the sixth year of Jianlong. The old lady had stubbornly endured three more lonely years in the Ciming Hall before finally departing this world.

The death of Empress Dowager Murong also meant that, within the palace, the threats Liu Wenji faced were further eliminated, removing a major weight from his mind. However, this sentiment could not be expressed openly. After all, she was the principal wife of Emperor Taizong. The halo of legitimacy and orthodoxy could never be erased; on the contrary, it needed to be maintained at all times, consistent with the legitimacy of Liu Wenji's own succession.

Therefore, when the Empress Dowager passed, Liu Wenji hurriedly set out, returning south from Taiyuan to manage the funeral arrangements for Empress Dowager Murong, even if it was merely for show. In comparison, Empress Dowager Xiao's grief over Empress Dowager Murong's death was far more genuine.

To be fair, Empress Dowager Murong had been distant, wary, and exclusionary toward Empress Dowager Xiao and her son. Even after Liu Wenji ascended the throne, she had employed many crude and foolish political tactics, but from beginning to end, she never truly used any schemes to persecute them.

Thus, Liu Wenji's stance toward Empress Dowager Murong was merely one of political security—precaution and suppression—while Empress Dowager Xiao always maintained respect and attention toward Empress Dowager Murong. Whether that attention contained an element of surveillance and wariness, however, was another matter.

The funeral for Empress Dowager Murong was conducted with full state honors, extremely solemn. In such matters, Liu Wenji did his utmost to avoid giving anyone cause for criticism. At the same time, the Empress Dowager's death thoroughly dispelled any intention to mobilize troops against the Andong situation. Unless absolutely necessary, filial piety still had to be emphasized—it was an important means of governing the realm.

On the other hand, after Empress Dowager Murong's death, Empress Dowager Xiao naturally rose a step further, becoming the sole and fully legitimate Empress Dowager of the Great Han Empire. Liu Wenji had originally planned to have Empress Dowager Xiao move into the Ciming Hall. After decades of expansion and decoration, the Ciming Hall had become a vast and livable palace complex within the Ziwei City. Liu Wenji clearly intended this as an expression of love and repayment to his mother.

However, this too was declined by Empress Dowager Xiao, who stated plainly that she was very comfortable in the Yuehua Palace, content in her position and at peace in her heart. Behind this humble refusal lay a reminder to Liu Wenji: don't get too carried away...

Less than two years after Empress Dowager Murong's death, in the autumn of the eighth year of Jianlong, another pillar of the Great Han Empire—one who could be called the "last elder" of the Shizu era, the senior-most member of the imperial clan during the Jianlong period—Prince of Zhao and Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince, Liu Fang, also passed away.

There is little need to say more about Prince of Zhao Liu Fang. His origins, his career, his achievements—all were already etched into countless imperial histories, records, and legends. He was a star that still shone with the brilliance of a bygone era even into the Jianlong period. But this star finally fell after the Mid-Autumn Festival, returning to silence.

Liu Fang's death was, for Emperor Liu Wenji, a kind of liberation—like a layer of shackles surrounding him being broken open. From that point on, he was the sole authority of the empire!

Not entirely unexpected, the one most grieved, sorrowful, and lost over Liu Fang's death was none other than Crown Prince Liu Jili. To Liu Jili, Liu Fang had been both a senior clan elder and a master. Eight years of association had cultivated deep feelings between them.

More importantly, in the Great Han court of the eighth year of Jianlong, Prince of Zhao Liu Fang remained Liu Jili's most solid political pillar. Now that this pillar had been broken by the passage of time, how could the already mature Liu Jili not feel grief and anxiety?

In the current Great Han court, Crown Prince Liu Jili's position was actually somewhat awkward. The early death of Empress Li was the most critical factor. Although Liu Jili had been established as Crown Prince early on, the actual political environment meant that his position as Crown Prince was not so secure.

In the central palace there was Empress Yang, and as early as the second year of Duangong, while Empress Li was still alive, she had already borne Liu Wenji a young son, Liu Jiying. As he continued to grow, it was almost inevitable that he would pose a challenge to Liu Jili's position.

Both were born of the legitimate empress. Within, there was an empress in her prime; without, the prominent Yang clan. Although Liu Jili possessed the righteous claim of legitimate eldest son and had accumulated considerable prestige over the years, none of this could conceal the weakness of his actual power base.

On his maternal side, the Li family descended from Marquis of Jiuyuan Li Wanchao was merely an ordinary, unremarkable clan among the empire's many powerful nobles. Its recent improvement in fortunes was due to basking in Empress Li's reflected glory, with some younger members obtaining important posts. These people, however, could clearly not provide sufficient support to Liu Jili.

Therefore, the supporters gathered around Liu Jili, aside from his Eastern Palace staff and the Li family, consisted only of some conservative bureaucrats who insisted on legitimate eldest son orthodoxy. And the caliber of this group might not even match the support Kangzong Emperor had in court when he was Crown Prince.

After all, righteousness and orthodoxy also required sufficient strength to back them up. Liu Fang, as Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince, had been a banner for the Eastern Palace's supporters over the years. The fall of this banner had a far deeper impact on Liu Jili than what appeared on the surface.

Of course, matters concerning the Crown Prince ultimately depended on the Emperor's decision. The current Son of Heaven, Liu Wenji, clearly held the final say in this regard. As for Liu Wenji's attitude on this matter, at least in the eighth year of Jianlong, he had absolutely no other intentions.

Toward his legitimate eldest son, Liu Wenji clearly harbored special feelings. He saw in Liu Jili his own modesty, dignity, and filial piety, and he placed great hopes on him. This was evident from the composition of the Eastern Palace—every appointment was solid and practical, whether scions of meritorious families or outstanding talents of the time, supplemented by seasoned and capable officials. Having Liu Fang serve as his Grand Tutor was the most powerful testament to Liu Wenji's expectations.

Even in the eighth year of Jianlong, from the perspective of an emperor's identity and political calculation, Liu Wenji would resolutely uphold the Crown Prince's position. First, for the sake of the state and the stable, orderly succession of the imperial throne—this was an emperor's mission, and Liu Wenji possessed that sense of responsibility.

On the other hand, the Yang clan was already the most prominent consort family in the court. Back then, establishing Lady Yang as Empress had been done to draw upon the Yang clan as support and to counterbalance the dissatisfied meritorious nobles. While respecting and utilizing them, it was impossible not to maintain some wariness. The Yang clan had already been given supreme honor; if their son were to become Crown Prince as well, wouldn't the realm become the Yang clan's?

Therefore, the weaker Crown Prince Liu Jili was, the more stable his position became. At the same time, his status as legitimate eldest son was an advantage that could never be overturned. As long as he maintained it, his future remained promising.

Of course, in a court-state with complete institutions and strict regulations, beneath all these rules and frameworks, there were countless instances of people and affairs exceeding their bounds and breaking the law. Before any final verdict was reached, any twists and turns were possible.

As maritime and overland exchanges between the central court and vassal states grew increasingly frequent, the communication between the imperial court and the various major fiefdoms had become an indispensable topic in the empire's governance. But to be frank, the northern and southern fiefdoms, as well as the "duchies" and "marquisates" beneath the kingdoms, were merely planets orbiting the central empire—that fixed star.

For the central empire to continue shining, it had to rely on its own energy. Fiefdom affairs were, for the imperial center, merely minor details. The foundation always lay within the empire itself—in political policies, in the hundreds of millions of subjects.

And to be fair, the imperial court, from the Emperor downward, always focused its attention on the Great Han's thirty circuits, several hundred prefectures, and over a thousand counties and towns. The operation of national order, the struggles for power, and the division of interests all revolved around the "traditional" Han territory.

From the eighth year of Jianlong onward, the Great Han Empire could basically be said to have arrived at its finest moment, its peak state. Weighing politics, military, economy, livelihood, ideology, institutions, and all other aspects comprehensively, this was its most powerful phase.

In the decade from the eighth year of Jianlong to the eighteenth year of Jianlong, if one looked at national governance reform, Liu Wenji made no greater breakthroughs. The empire's development had entered a bottleneck period. Even with the stimulus of the vassal states, it was difficult to produce new changes.

As for the matters that set the tone for the empire—in both large and small aspects—Emperors Shizu and Taizong had already done most of the work. What was left for Liu Wenji was merely to make appropriate modifications and corrections within the existing framework, maintaining the empire's healthy and orderly development.

This maintenance, while admittedly not earth-shattering or magnificent, was extremely demanding in terms of grasping the proper measure and balance. Governing a great state was like cooking a small fish, and Liu Wenji, in his capacity as inheritor and defender, used this method of slow simmering over low heat to gradually brew a peak imperial dynasty.

Over the decade, in governance, Liu Wenji achieved notable results in many areas. First, in talent selection, a large number of outstanding individuals were discovered and gradually stepped onto the center stage of imperial politics. These were scholars who emerged under Liu Wenji's guiding philosophy of governance, deeply stamped with his imprint—they were the key talents maintaining Liu Wenji's rule.

Among commoner bureaucrats, beginning with the second year of Duangong examination graduates Cai Qi, Yan Shu, Fan Zhongyan and others, followed by a new wave of rising talents such as Bao Zheng, Zeng Gongliang, and Fu Bi, a large influx of fresh blood entered the Great Han officialdom.

The spring of the literati that the older generation of chancellors like Li Hang and Lü Mengzheng had awaited had finally arrived. Eighty years after the empire's founding, the power of commoner and humble families had, for the first time, visibly surpassed that of the meritorious nobles.

In the localities, Liu Wenji's experiment with administrative governance schools had also achieved initial success. Not to mention the Loujiang Academy, which had started earliest—after thirty years, it had become the primary source of administrative talent for the southeastern circuits. Beyond the main Loujiang Academy campus, branch schools had also been established in the circuit capital cities.

At the same time, Liu Wenji established three major schools in Chang'an, Chengdu, and Changsha—for the northwest, southwest, and south-central regions respectively—following the same model, further promoting the concept of "specialized officials, specialized talents."

Although accurate official statistics were difficult to obtain, the overall quality of the empire's bureaucratic class during the Jianlong era was on the rise. At the same time, their ability to govern the people and their methods of dealing with crime were also continuously upgrading.

Meanwhile, those who could rise to high positions still needed to be "all-round talents" or possess deep backgrounds. And as the quantity and quality of basic-level clerks improved, the career path of "clerk to official" had, imperceptibly, had many obstacles cleared, no longer as difficult as in the past.

One very important reason was that the administrative governance schools advocated and implemented by Emperor Liu Wenji could not possibly be purely pure. Whether nobles or commoners, those power groups were all reaching in and exerting influence. The struggle for power and interests between upper and lower levels had merely shifted part of the battlefield.

This was also a result of compromise. Without the participation and support of the powerful noble class, so-called administrative governance schools could never have been established or promoted. Even Liu Wenji himself had been one of the "powerful nobles" in his early years.

As administrative governance schools blossomed across the entire nation, the Imperial Political and Legal Academy, located in the capital region, was unquestionably the foremost of all schools. It produced the most political stars, with Zeng Gongliang, Bao Zheng, and Fu Bi among its outstanding graduates.

As the empire's upper class became increasingly solidified, Liu Wenji's administrative governance school system, on one hand, accelerated this process, but on the other hand, it also in fact gave the cold and humble families of the realm more possibilities. The channels of upward mobility were not completely closed, even if this passage was continuously narrowing.

In this process, the commoner bureaucrat group was growing, and the power of academic cliques was also growing. At the same time, regional discrimination and factional strife inevitably began to surface. Among the meritorious nobles, after a period of lying low, a batch of capable individuals also emerged—Shi Yuansun, Zhang Wenwei, Li Guangfu and others—who, relying on their ancestors' accumulated advantages, quickly ascended to high positions.

While civil official selection was becoming increasingly lively, military academies also developed enormously under Liu Wenji's push, truly breakthrough in nature. The empire's "central military academy" had a long history, traceable back to the Fengchen Camp of the Shizu era. But strict professional specialization only began during the Jianlong period. Even though it only divided into five major categories—infantry, cavalry, logistics, engineering, and artillery—this was a major transformation in the empire's military history, a milestone.

Beyond the two "imperial military academies" located in the Eastern and Western Capitals, affiliated military command academies were simultaneously established in core cities across the east, west, south, and north. Notably, half of these military schools' students came from the empire's armed forces. The remaining half were nominally recruited from society, but the vast majority were snapped up by military aristocratic and general family descendants. Had Liu Wenji not set a "10%" red line, ordinary families aspiring to military careers would have found it very difficult to achieve their ambitions through the military academy route, let alone achieve class mobility.

Compared to the civil official system, the military system was fundamentally different—its closedness, traditionalism, and conservatism were extremely stubborn. In peacetime, it was a place where seniority and background mattered most; ability was merely a baseline.

Of course, to a certain extent, this also ensured the stability of the empire's military and facilitated the court's control, even if power was shared with the meritorious nobles. But even so, a batch of commoner generals still rose through the ranks in the military during this decade—for example, Zhong Shihang and Di Qing. Especially the latter, who went from being a common soldier of the lowest rank, step by step, to becoming a great general, entering the ears of the Son of Heaven and ascending to the golden hall.

Beyond talent selection and appointment, Liu Wenji's greatest energy was devoted to fiscal and tax matters, achieved through salt administration reform and land consolidation. Neither of these was easy, especially the latter. Liu Wenji spent a full ten years before sorting out results and seeing initial effectiveness.