Chapter 2181: Shizong Arc 49: The Emperor Ages, the Crown Prince Dies Young

In early summer of the nineteenth year of Jianlong, at the Western Park in Luoyang, following a grand unveiling ceremony, the new campus of the Great Han Empire's Academy of Politics and Law was officially declared complete and put into use.

After nearly twenty years of exploration, experimentation, and adjustment, the Imperial Academy of Politics and Law had thoroughly integrated the thoughts of various schools and the ideals of diverse factions, becoming a hall of learning where a hundred flowers bloomed—and unquestionably the empire's foremost institution of higher learning.

Over the past two decades, the Academy had supplied more than thirty thousand officials to government offices at every level of the empire, with a commendable success rate; the standouts among the earlier cohorts had already become the backbone of the empire's ruling class.

By the seventeenth year of Jianlong, the list of "famous names" who had graduated from the Academy and entered officialdom through the imperial examinations could already stretch on at length—for example: Bao Zheng, Fu Bi, Han Qi, Ouyang Xiu, Wen Yanbo...

By the eighteenth year of Jianlong, the Academy's enrolled student body had surpassed five thousand, and the previous campus—cramped in space and outdated in facilities—could no longer meet the demands of its various teaching activities. Thus, construction of the new campus was pushed onto the agenda early, under the Emperor's impetus.

The site selection for the new campus was also unusual—it lay within the scenic royal gardens of the Western Park. Liu Wenji, unlike Kangzong, was not obsessed with hunting, and his use of the Western Park was restrained; over more than twenty years, the park's ecological environment had recovered considerably.

What was even more distinctive was that the new campus was rebuilt and restored upon the ruins of the "Crystal Palace"—that unfinished project from the late Kangzong era. With such a foundation, one can imagine how magnificent and spectacular the new campus of the Imperial Academy was. The construction project took one year and cost over two million strings of cash; during the rush to meet the deadline, the sound of chiseling rang out day and night.

Though the expenditure was considerable, it was entirely fitting for an institution that cultivated the empire's elite and formed the cornerstone of governance—fully demonstrating the Emperor's and the court's regard. At the same time, public opinion was somewhat more positive and favorable than it would have been had the Emperor taken state revenues to lavishly build palaces and temples for personal enjoyment.

Xuanguang Pavilion was the central building of the new Academy, serving as the place for offering sacrifices to the sages of old and for holding large-scale Academy events. The pavilion stood upon the water, and beyond it stretched the broad Golden Dragon Lake. Four water corridors spread out steadily, connecting the embankments to the pavilion terrace. Within the lake sat four artificial sandbars, densely planted with lush trees and blooming flowers—at the turn of spring and summer, their beauty was at its most exquisite...

By the shores of Golden Dragon Lake, fed by the waters of the Yi and Luo rivers, Liu Wenji—his hair half white—leaned on a plain bamboo staff just as his imperial grandfather once had, and walked slowly along the carved railings and willow-lined banks, facing the rising sun in the sky.

After a long silence, he finally stopped, raised a hand to shade his eyes and gaze at the sky, then gripped the railing and looked into the distance at the gleaming rooftop of Xuanguang Pavilion beneath the blazing sun. Liu Wenji said with melancholy: "The state is like the great sun, the pavilion radiates precious light—yet I have grown old..."

Accompanying the Emperor, besides the palace eunuchs and close attendants, were two principal ministers: Du Yan, Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet and Vice Minister of Personnel, and Cai Qi, Chancellor of the Academy. Du Yan was a descendant of Du You, the famed chancellor of the Tang dynasty, and a jinshi graduate of that sole imperial examination held during the Kangzong reign. Like many commoner ministers who had achieved distinction over the decades of the Han Empire, Du Yan's early years had been hard and arduous; though luck played no small part, it was also a crucial factor in his scholarly success.

In twenty-eight years of official service, from the capital region to the provinces, he had held posts in many places and accumulated a record of achievements that won widespread praise. By now, Du Yan had become a first-rate talent at court, renowned for his integrity and competence—indeed, a "chancellor-in-waiting."

It was also an unwritten rule formed during the Jianlong reign: when the head of a ministry or bureau was given the title "Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet," his elevation to chancellor was not far off. And Du Yan, in the Ministry of Personnel, oversaw the selection of officials and talent; his next step would likely be Minister of Personnel and Chief Minister—after all, the old Chancellor Zhang Jian was indeed advanced in years, and the Emperor had to prepare for the coming decade.

As for Cai Qi, he was a famed minister and scholar deeply stamped with the mark of Liu Wenji's era. This zhuangyuan of the second year of Duangong, though lagging behind many of his cohort in administrative ability—especially when compared with Fan Zhongyan—had devoted himself painstakingly to scholarship and education, achieving much in those fields.

Thus, before the age of fifty, he had not only participated in completing the compilation of the great work *Cefu Yuangui*, but was also one of the chief editors of the *National History*. At forty-five, he was placed by Liu Wenji in the position of Academy Chancellor—a post of the second rank, second class, and the foremost academic position in the realm.

Of course, in promoting Cai Qi and entrusting him with such weighty responsibility, Liu Wenji valued not only his talents in scholarship and education, but more importantly, the "cleanliness and purity" he embodied—he was a minister who had genuinely been selected, cultivated, and grown to maturity during Liu Wenji's own reign.

In fact, by the middle and late period of Liu Wenji's rule, more and more "new talents"—regardless of noble or common birth—had grown into cornerstones of the empire, playing an increasingly important role in the operation of imperial governance.

The most renowned among them was Fan Zhongyan, whom Liu Wenji had personally praised as a talent capable of saving the age. The cohort of rising young talents from the Jianlong era, led by Fan Zhongyan and others, was also one of the most important sources of confidence for Liu Wenji as a substantive emperor.

"Your Majesty is in the prime of life..." Seeing the Emperor lament his advancing age, Cai Qi could not help but offer words of consolation.

However, Liu Wenji had no need of others' comfort. He waved his hand to cut Cai Qi off, then, in a tone of complex emotion and with a serious demeanor, instructed: "The court has spent the people's money—even for building this seat of learning, there has been no shortage of criticism. The Academy has been built for you; I want to see real results. You must cultivate more talent—for me, and for the court!"

"Yes! We obey!" Hearing this, Du Yan and Cai Qi exchanged a glance, then bowed in unison.

"Go, gather the students in residence at Guangwen Hall—tell them I have something to say!" Liu Wenji paused, then added the instruction.

"To hear the sacred teachings in person is the great fortune of the students; they will surely come joyfully, their eyes straining with anticipation..." At this, Cai Qi's face lit up with delight, and he said: "I shall go at once!"

"Shichang, you go along as well—I need no attendance here!" Liu Wenji waved his hand at Du Yan too.

"Yes! I take my leave!"

He then dismissed the attendants around him, remaining alone. Beneath the shade of the trees, weak willows swaying in the breeze, Liu Wenji leaned lightly against the stone railing. On his aged face, his old eyes were filled with a distant, hazy look as he gazed at the shimmering Golden Dragon Lake and murmured in a low voice:

"Third brother, oh third brother—your 'Crystal Palace' was never completed, but a magnificent, grand Academy that will endure for a hundred generations has risen from the ground. In this I have also corrected your error and redeemed your fault. You should thank your second brother..."

Guangwen Hall was one of the Academy's principal lecture halls, the place where academic activities, conferences, and examinations were ordinarily held. When word spread that the Emperor had summoned them to speak, the entire Academy erupted; every teacher and student alike was overjoyed and surged toward the hall.

Setting other matters aside, the current Son of Heaven, Liu Wenji, held a place in the hearts of the empire's scholars and students that surpassed all previous emperors. The true rise of the commoner class and the civil official faction had precisely erupted during the Jianlong era.

And the Academy's students were either descendants of the powerful or the elite of the empire's scholars and learners—the reserve force of the empire's ruling class. To them, the Emperor held a "fatal" allure.

The bustling Guangwen Hall quickly quieted as the imperial presence arrived, restoring its solemn dignity. Liu Wenji walked slowly to the front of the platform, looked down upon the eager-faced students, and received their bows of homage...

Originally, Liu Wenji had prepared a long speech of formalities to deliver. Yet, when he truly found himself "intimately" among the students, he decided to speak of something more substantive:

"All of you present are the elite of the Great Han. Each one of you, taken individually, can boast an extraordinary background—at the very least, you are tribute students and child scholars carefully selected from the various circuits and prefectures, the best of the best, with outstanding natural gifts.

I and the court place great hopes upon you, hoping that you may become the beams and rafters of the Great Han. The future of the nation, the stability of the state, the well-being of the common people—all must ultimately be maintained and consolidated by you. Seeing you all today, full of vigor and vitality, I am filled with emotion, and feel that the court has hope!

Over the past nearly two decades, more than thirty thousand have walked out of the Academy. Most have achieved success in their studies and are exercising their talents and functions in the circuits and prefectures of the empire. Some have faded into the crowd, some have become pillars of the state, and at the same time, a considerable number have sunk and degenerated in the great dye-vat of officialdom, amid right and wrong, fame and profit, and petty scheming...

As for the latter, I hope all of you will take them as a warning. The court has spent enormous sums to build such a magnificent and splendid Academy—more resplendent and varied than many of the halls and pavilions of the Purple Forbidden City—only hoping that you will devote yourselves wholeheartedly to study, achieve success in learning, and put that success to use, becoming talents for the nation, pillars for the state, benefiting the world and bringing blessings to the people...

I still remember that when I was young, studying at the knee of Shizu, I once heard these words: 'To establish a heart for heaven and earth, to establish a destiny for the living. To continue the lost learning of past sages, to open great peace for ten thousand generations!'

Shizu's breadth of vision and magnanimity surpassed the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, and none in a thousand years to come could match him. For decades, I have silently kept these words, using them to spur and discipline myself at all times—yet how could I ever attain Shizu's heights?

I have treasured these words for fifty years. Today, seeing the opportunity, I pass them on to you students—young talents of the future. I hope you will use them to encourage yourselves! And I hope that when you one day hold high positions and judge great matters, you will not forget the original aspiration of studying diligently in these days of youth..."

When Liu Wenji finished these words, Guangwen Hall fell silent for a long while before, led by Cai Qi, the assembly bowed in reverence and acknowledgment. Even the old scholars were stirred by the emergence of the "Four Sentences of Hengqu," murmuring to themselves with radiant spirits—let alone the young students, nearly every one of whom was swept up in surging emotion and barely contained fervor. It was hard to imagine that, in the current social environment and cultural atmosphere, any student could remain unmoved by these four lines, by words of encouragement spoken personally by the Emperor.

Just as Liu Wenji, full of emotion, concluded his inspection of the Academy, on the road back to the palace he received a piece of news—a piece of unfortunate news, and for Luoyang, a bolt from the blue that shook the court and the realm, one that would very likely profoundly affect the future of the Great Han Empire.

The empire's heir apparent, Liu Jili, who had been Crown Prince for twenty years, had died in the Hongde Hall of the Eastern Palace!

——————

The death of Crown Prince Liu Jili was sudden—likely a heart condition. For a long time, Crown Prince Liu Jili had been a person of filial obedience, humility, courtesy, leniency toward others, and propriety in all matters. But beneath his modest and gentle exterior, he was in truth weighed down with worries and burdened with pressure—at one point even depressed.

Liu Jili's depression stemmed, on one hand, from his imperial father. With Kangzong's cautionary example before him, Liu Wenji attached great importance to the education and cultivation of all his princes, constantly monitoring their studies and performance. As Crown Prince and heir to the empire, Liu Jili naturally received the most attention—and the Emperor's strict restraint and excessive scrutiny inevitably brought him tremendous pressure and intense discomfort.

On the other hand, it came from the expectations within and beyond the palace, as well as the challenges from his brothers—especially from his younger brother Liu Jiying, who had the support of the Yang clan. The struggle for the succession had, since ancient times, been a principal drama within the palace, recurring endlessly without cease. Given the imperial family structure of the Jianlong reign, the formation of a succession struggle was inevitable—particularly as Liu Jiying grew older.

And Liu Jili, despite Liu Wenji's careful cultivation and the years of influence from the late Prince of Zhao, was soft by nature—even somewhat timid. This was the one thing that Liu Wenji, outwardly kind but inwardly ruthless, disliked about him.

But apart from that, Liu Wenji was fairly satisfied with this Crown Prince—modest, courteous, proper, and disciplined. He did not expect him to expand the realm, but he should be a qualified caretaker ruler, and Liu Wenji believed he would follow his policies and principles.

At the same time, Liu Jili enjoyed an excellent reputation among the powerful, the bureaucrats, and the civil and military officials alike. They could hardly help but like a heir apparent who was gentle in temperament, courteous to subordinates, and lenient toward others.

Therefore, after Liu Jili passed the age of thirty-five, Liu Wenji had him genuinely participate in the handling of major state affairs, further cultivating his practical abilities.

This was also a decision by Liu Wenji to definitively declare his stance on the empire's heir—almost bluntly telling those restless elements within the palace and beyond that the Crown Prince's position was unshakable, and his own will even more so.

Against such a backdrop, even as the weakest Crown Prince in the history of the Great Han Empire, Liu Jili's position remained difficult to shake. Inertia was powerful; the various institutions formed over nearly ninety years of the empire were mature and complete, and too many traditional, conservative forces supported and consolidated Liu Jili's position. This "conservatism" and "obstinacy" included Liu Wenji himself.

But Liu Jili himself did not "live up to expectations"—dying in the prime of life. Then the situation was different. The loss of the heir apparent was, in any era, any country, any system, a matter of earth-shaking importance—after all, the foundation of the state had been shaken.

Liu Jili's sudden death, while causing countless who remembered his virtues to mourn and sigh, also shattered the established arrangements of Emperor Liu Wenji and the expectations of many ministers. With the Emperor growing ever older and unable to bear the burdens of state, it further provoked anxiety among many men of conscience and ambition.

In fact, even during Liu Jili's mourning period, many within and beyond the palace, throughout the court, were already stirring restlessly. Once the mourning period ended, a new round of succession struggle unfolded in Luoyang with no time to lose.

And there were only two most competitive candidates: Liu Jiying, Commandery Duke of Suiyang, born of Empress Yang, and Liu Weizhen, the eldest legitimate son of Crown Prince Zhangde, Liu Jili.

In the most glorious years of the Great Han Empire, Liu Wenji could never have imagined that in the late period of his rule, the greatest challenge he would face was the question of choosing his successor......