Chapter 2182: Taizong Chronicles 50: Who Will Win the Flower

Though it was midsummer, the Chongzheng Hall somehow gave one a gloomy, oppressive feeling. The white candles in the hall had not yet been removed, and the Emperor, whose temples had clearly gained a few more strands of white silk, sat cross-legged, huddled in the throne, shoulders hunched, back slightly stooped, silently flipping through some of Crown Prince Zhangde's lesser-known works and essays from before his death.

These things had been sealed away after the Crown Prince's passing, kept for the Emperor's perusal. Liu Jili's surviving works were indeed numerous—poetry, lyrics, rhapsodies, and political essays—many of them possessing considerable literary value. For Liu Wenji, however, the most valuable thing was seeing the man through his writing, understanding the Crown Prince's little-known inner journey during his lifetime...

Reading them, he could not help but feel deep sorrow—the state had lost its heir, a father had lost his son. Either way, for Liu Wenji, who was past sixty, it was a heavy blow. After a long while, Liu Wenji finally raised his hand to lightly wipe his reddened eyes, then instructed the eunuch Shi Quanbin standing attendance before him: "Send these things back to the Eastern Palace. Have the Academicians and compilers of the Hongwen Hall compile the Crown Prince's posthumous works into a book, as a memorial..."

"Yes!" Shi Quanbin hurriedly acknowledged, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief in his heart.

Though the Emperor's voice was hoarse and low, compared to the past few days, it had already become much steadier and firmer. Clearly, he was slowly recovering from the blow of the Crown Prince's passing. After all, the vast empire still needed His Majesty the Emperor to support it—especially at a time when the foundation of the state was shaken and hearts were restless, the old Emperor was needed more than ever to preside over the overall situation.

At the very least, he had to wait until a new Crown Prince was established...

Shi Quanbin was forty-one years old, but he had served at the Emperor's side for seven or eight years, having taken over from Zheng Kang, the former head of the palace eunuchs. Within the palace's internal eunuch system, Shi Quanbin could be said to have burst onto the scene—since the late Shizu era, there had basically been no "chief steward of the inner court" as "young" as Shi Quanbin.

After nearly ninety years of development and change, the eunuchs of the Great Han court had gradually formed three systems. The first was the Inner Palace Rear Service, which controlled access to the imperial presence and accompanied the emperor in and out—these were the people closest to the Emperor, Empress, and the nobles of the Han palace, their status far above that of other eunuchs.

The second was the Inner Palace Front Service, which managed the various palace bureaus and offices. This was a purely administrative department, the main maintainer of the palace's normal daily operations. It held heavy practical power, had very complex composition, fierce internal struggles, and many problems.

The third was the Palace City Office. As an intelligence and surveillance agency staffed primarily by eunuchs, parallel to the Wude Office, it was destined to hold a special position within the palace—unshakeable, and prone to producing talent.

Each of the three systems had its own traditions and its own set of rules, and over the long years, "eunuch families" had even formed. Shi Quanbin was a product of one such "eunuch family." His grandfather was Shi Zhiyong, a senior eunuch in the palace during the Shizu and Taizong reigns, ranked among the top eunuchs of the Palace Domestic Service, who had long been in charge of the palace tea and wine storehouse.

And Shi Quanbin, who came from the Inner Palace Front Service, becoming the "big chief" of the Inner Palace Rear Service—this was an important sign that the boundaries between the empire's three eunuch systems had been broken, with personnel, duties, and power now flowing between them.

Compared to when Liu Wenji first ascended the throne, the three inner court systems in the nineteenth year of Jianlong had also undergone great changes. On the one hand, the suppressive force of imperial power was stronger; on the other, the claws and fangs had grown sharper. At the same time, the long-frozen personnel arrangements had undergone major changes, or rather, upheavals.

Zheng Kang, the former head of the palace eunuchs, had been executed for accepting bribes, overstepping his authority, interfering in state affairs, deceiving officials and harming the people, and abusing living beings. These were the stated reasons; the fundamental cause was that he had colluded with former chancellor Wang Qinruo, secretly communicating with him.

At the same time, Cai Jing, the Commissioner of the Palace City who had headed the Palace City Office for twenty years, had also been demoted two years ago, then completely vanished without a trace. The background was Ding Wei's request to retire—what connection there was between these events went without saying...

Shi Quanbin had left not long ago on the imperial decree when a young eunuch reported that Chen Wei, the Commissioner of the Palace City, sought an audience. Chen Wei had also risen from the ranks of the Palace Domestic Service eunuchs. His grandfather, named Chen Yanshou, had originally been one of the powerful eunuchs of the Southern Yue state. Because he had early on thrown in his lot with the Great Han and pledged loyalty to the court, after Pan Mei pacified Lingnan, he smoothly entered the Han palace in the capacity of a "meritorious official," and the family line had continued from there.

Chen Wei had come this time because he had important matters to report. In the days since Crown Prince Zhangde Liu Jili's passing, there was probably no office in the entire palace, inside or out, more tense and busy than the Palace City Office.

On the one hand, they had to thoroughly investigate whether there was any hidden truth behind the Crown Prince's death; on the other, they were under imperial orders to monitor all movements within the capital region. With Liu Wenji's deep foresight, how could he not know the enormous impact Liu Jili's death had brought to the court?

During this period, inside and outside the palace, throughout the court and the realm, thanks to the Palace City Office's efficient efforts, countless pieces of intelligence flooded toward Liu Wenji, nearly drowning him—and every single piece cast another layer of shadow over his already gloomy heart.

Of course, with the experience and insight of an old emperor like Liu Wenji, when it came to the storms in the capital, he could not say he was completely unruffled, but he could at least take a somewhat detached view. He had gone through such things himself when he was young; this kind of scene was nothing unusual.

What truly made Liu Wenji's heart ache was that some people truly took advantage of his old age, becoming reckless and knowing no restraint. Liu Jili's corpse was barely cold, and already they were below, maneuvering and colluding, wanting to choose a new Crown Prince for him.

Though they did it under the banner of consolidating the foundation of the state, how could Liu Wenji be deceived by them? How could he not suspect their true intentions? Too hasty...

And what Chen Wei brought this time was another matter that infuriated Liu Wenji, related to the Duke of Jinan, Liu Jide. Liu Jide was the full younger brother of Crown Prince Zhangde Liu Jili, also born of Empress Li. In the fifteenth year of Jianlong, when the various princes were elevated in rank, he had been enfeoffed as Duke of Jinan.

Toward the various princes, Liu Wenji, though he had high demands and strict discipline, had always been very restrained in secret surveillance, even forbidding the Palace City Office from recklessly planting informants among the princes.

But since Liu Jili's death, this bottom line had been quickly breached, simply because Liu Wenji needed more detailed and closer attention to the situation of the various princes—he demanded that every single move be reported to him.

Behind such measures, one could also discern some of Liu Wenji's psychology. As a qualified and scheming emperor, even if he had a sentimental side, what dominated was an emperor's bearing—that temperament of supreme ego, of the solitary sovereign.

Perhaps in the very first moment he learned of Crown Prince Liu Jili's death, amid his grief, his subconscious had already begun pondering the question of "what is to be done now"...

And what Chen Wei secretly reported concerned some of Duke of Jinan Liu Jide's behavior after Crown Prince Zhangde's death and during the mourning period, several points of which were extremely damning. For instance, when news of the Crown Prince's death arrived, Liu Jide had been feasting with a group of guests—upon hearing the news, he first showed joy, then grief.

For instance, during the mourning period, when Liu Wenji had the various princes keep vigil over their elder brother's spirit, Liu Jide was drowsy and extremely impatient, and later frolicked with his concubines in his residence, uttering wild words.

For instance, after Crown Prince Zhangde was buried and calls for the court to establish a new Crown Prince began to rise, Liu Jide gathered his staff and guests for secret discussions, the content roughly being how to contact and bribe court ministers to fight for the position of Crown Prince...

When Liu Wenji learned of these matters from Chen Wei, though he maintained an emperor's habit of doubting everything, his mood was clearly affected. His tone turned cold and gloomy, and he stared at Chen Wei with a cold, sharp gaze: "Are these reports true?"

"Every word is true. The Duke of Jinan's words and deeds were hardly concealed; there are many witnesses, available for Your Majesty to verify at any time!" Chen Wei assured Liu Wenji in a cautious manner.

Hearing this, Liu Wenji fell silent. After a long while, a weary voice emerged from his mouth: "I understand. You may withdraw. Record for me faithfully every move of the Duke of Jinan's residence—who he associates with, and who responds!"

After Chen Wei left, Liu Wenji straightened his upper body. A gloomy aura seemed to surround him, his breathing gradually quickened, and finally he could not help but angrily bark: "Fool! You want to be Crown Prince too?!"

Though inwardly angry and dissatisfied, Liu Wenji once again deeply realized that the new Crown Prince was a problem he and the Great Han Empire could not avoid facing. And this problem would accompany him through nearly the entire twilight of his reign.

And around the recommendation of the new Crown Prince, a political vortex rapidly formed at the upper levels of the empire, swallowing nearly all central court ministers into it. Few within this arena of power could remain outside it.

On this matter, the nobles of the Great Han Empire's upper echelons seemed to awaken one by one, including those founding dukes and marquises, old followers and former companions, who, despite their illustrious family backgrounds, had gradually been marginalized by the passage of time. And this kind of struggle was nearly impossible to avoid.

The meritorious nobles and ministers had given Emperor Liu Wenji more than half a year of breathing room, hoping he could recover from the shadow of his grief. Therefore, it was not until the spring of the twentieth year of Jianlong, when Chai Xirang, the Administration Commissioner of the Jingji Circuit, submitted a memorial requesting the establishment of a Crown Prince to settle the foundation of the state early, that this undercurrent, brewing for over half a year, finally burst fully into the open.

Hot on the heels of Chai Xirang, memorials requesting the establishment of a Crown Prince flew toward Emperor Liu Wenji like snowflakes. These were just the open requests—there were also many who probed sideways, went roundabout routes, and hinted at the Emperor in various forms. Such memorials could not fit on ten of the Emperor's large imperial desks.

And once this wind had truly begun to blow, it was hard to calm down before a definitive result emerged. As the clamor for "establishing a Crown Prince" grew louder and spread throughout court and country, the court's internal opinions on the heir gradually and formally split into three factions.

Duke of Suiyang Liu Jiying and the Emperor's eldest grandson Liu Weizhen were the two core factions, and there was also a faction that held a "neutral" attitude—more precisely, they would follow the imperial will. But regardless of which faction, their attitude on the matter of establishing a Crown Prince was unanimous. Whatever their thoughts and schemes, the Crown Prince ought to be established as soon as possible.

And the struggle between the supporters of Liu Jiying and Liu Weizhen formed the first sharp, large-scale political struggle over the succession since the founding of the empire. Its influence was so far-reaching that it even caused the court's governance to decay for a time.

On a broad level, the two sides represented the struggle between two forces that had continued since the Shizu era—the contest between the aristocratic and the commoner groups. Those who supported Liu Jiying were, of course, the military merit aristocrats led by the Yang clan, while Liu Weizhen's supporters were mostly from the commoner official bloc. At the same time, he was not lacking in aristocratic support—after all, the Yang clan's prominence invited envy, and on the other hand, the Yang family could hardly fully represent the empire's military merit aristocracy.

This also led to a relative balance of strength and influence between the two sides. Therefore, if left to the ministers' own recommendation and support alone, it would be very difficult to produce a quick result. And indeed it was so—from the twentieth year of Jianlong all the way to the twenty-second year, in order to push their chosen candidate into position, the empire's nobles racked their brains and displayed their various talents, rapidly evolving from clamorous support into mutual attack. A large-scale factional struggle thus appeared openly during Liu Wenji's reign...

The atmosphere of the court changed overnight. The clean and upright governance that had been maintained for twenty years during the Jianlong era inevitably gained more than a few traces of murk and gloom. It even spread from the central government to the localities—at its most exaggerated, even officials in remote prefectures and counties could not help but join in the discussion of the Crown Prince, with no small number using their own methods to express their support.

Such a situation far exceeded what many had initially expected. No one could have imagined that the position of Crown Prince could drag on for so long, and for creating this result and its effects, Emperor Liu Wenji bore an inescapable responsibility.

Because the essence of it all still lay in Liu Wenji's inner hesitation.

Like the various nobles and ministers, Liu Wenji's consideration of the successor also ran between Liu Jiying and Liu Weizhen. But making a decisive choice between them was difficult—each one gave Liu Wenji grave concerns.

Liu Jiying was steady in temperament, ambitious, and well-cultivated—a standard elite produced by imperial education. Though he lacked experience, he was still young, possessed great potential for cultivation, and had a promising future. There was nothing to fault in his status either.

The only thing that gave Liu Wenji pause was precisely the influence of the Yang clan maternal relatives. Just look at the "Suiyang Faction" organized by the Yang clan relatives and a host of military merit aristocrats—such momentum made even Liu Wenji look askance.

Even if there were many circumstances beyond their control, the Yang clan's prosperity, having lasted so many years and now even influencing the next generation of emperors, was a factor Liu Wenji could not possibly ignore.

After all, Liu Wenji was also an old emperor now, and what old emperors feared most was the weakening of their control. Some anxieties could even override rationality...

Liu Weizhen, at the time of the Crown Prince's death, was also nineteen years old—no major problem with age. But in temperament, he was even more pedantic and timid than his father. Though equally filial and respectful, his slow wit and dullness had at times made Liu Wenji anxious just watching him.

However, throughout court and country, he happened to have numerous supporters, spanning many strata and various factions. The voices were mixed, but their intent was firm—especially some stubborn and unyielding remonstrance officials who, under the banner of "remonstrating unto death," insisted on maintaining the empire's orthodox succession!

Orthodox! This was a word Liu Wenji had striven his entire life to earn. Who would have thought that in the end, it would be recognized through such a manner on the question of succession? There was something rather absurd about it...

The Emperor's indecision and the ambiguous signals he transmitted naturally gave opportunists a chance to fish in troubled waters. Once the struggle for the heir had taken shape, the fighting became endless. Though Liu Wenji used harsh measures to suppress it during the process, he could control the surface, but the undercurrents remained, and he could not cow the restless hearts.

This led to an extremely tense atmosphere in the central government during the three years from the twentieth to the twenty-second year of Jianlong. To stop the endless, bottomless struggles between the two factions, Liu Wenji was forced to suppress them with the harshest measures and style since he had taken power. A large number of ministers were demoted, among them no few men of insight, loyal subjects, and filial sons.

For example, Fan Zhongyan, who had been promoted to Governor of Luoyang under Liu Wenji's vigorous patronage, seeing that the Crown Prince struggle had spread through court and country and was seriously affecting the stability of the state, was deeply grieved and submitted a memorial of remonstrance.

His words were certainly a bit sharp, and among them were not a few insinuations that the chancellors of the Hall of State Affairs were occupying their posts without doing their duty, sitting by and watching the struggle, not devoting their counsel to the sovereign and the state. Fan Zhongyan's memorial not only provoked Liu Wenji's annoyance but also angered those chancellors.

Chen Yaozuo, the Director of State Affairs, and Lü Yijian, the Finance Commissioner, submitted memorials one after another impeaching Fan Zhongyan, accusing him of disrespecting the chancellors and recklessly discussing state affairs. Though the charges were weak, Liu Wenji, in his anger, demoted Fan Zhongyan to Deputy Administration Commissioner of the Longyou Circuit in the spring of the twenty-first year of Jianlong.

From this point on, Fan Zhongyan began a seven-year official career in Longyou. During those seven years, Fan Zhongyan never relaxed for a moment, always concerned with the court situation and worried for the sovereign. Moreover, he accomplished two major tasks in Longyou.

First, building on Cao Liyong's foundation, he further consolidated the Great Han's rule over the Qingtang region, extending the empire's governing influence deep into the plateau; second, he pushed for the Longyou Circuit's administrative seat to be moved west to Lanzhou — for a long time, the Longyou Circuit's administrative seat had been in Fengxiang Prefecture, which geographically leaned toward the east, especially problematic as the expansion into the Qingtang region deepened.

It was also starting with Fan Zhongyan's demotion that court ministers of importance were, one by one, purged by Liu Wenji. Chai Xirang was demoted to serve as chief administrator of the Gaochang Circuit, Lü Yijian was sent out to Liaodong, and by the twenty-second year of Jianlong, Director of State Affairs Chen Yaozuo was removed from his chancellorship.

By this time, although the court had been pacified under Liu Wenji's suppression, the struggle over the Crown Prince unfolded across an even broader scope within the empire. Faced with this situation, Liu Wenji was both furious and helpless.

Confronted with so many disputes, Liu Wenji grew increasingly weary, and he clearly understood that the matter of the Crown Prince could no longer be delayed — he had to make a decision, or disaster might arise from the smallest of oversights.

In the many power struggles of successive dynasties, amid those prolonged contests of strength, what ultimately decided the outcome was not who was more capable, but who made fewer mistakes. And in the contest for the Crown Prince's position, this same rule applied...