Chapter 2196: Renzong Chronicles 5: The Thoroughly Solidified Ruling Class

In the second month of spring in the eleventh year of Zhengtong (1052), at the Western Capital, the triennial imperial examination had just concluded, and taking advantage of the opportunity of talented men from across the four seas and heroes of the realm gathering in the capital, the annual Peony Poetry Gathering was also about to begin...

As time passed, the successive ancestors had gradually faded from people's impressions, and that once magnificent history, those stirring and soul-stirring tales, now remained only in the writings of court historians and scholars and in the poetry of literary officials.

The vast majority of people were more accustomed to living in the present, enjoying the present, especially the gentry and commoners of the capital region, who dwelt at the center of the realm. A society stable, an economy prosperous, a culture resplendent—the Zhengtong era could well be called an age of universal pleasure-seeking, except that the beneficiaries of this flourishing peace were inevitably growing narrower and narrower...

Since the reign of Shizong, over nearly forty years, the imperial examinations of the Great Han had become increasingly "legalized" and "academized." This was not only because the court placed ever greater emphasis on legal principles in selecting talent, but also because large numbers of students and scholars from the College of Politics and Law and other local academies had flooded onto the "examination track"—the most orthodox, most prestigious, and most fiercely competitive path to officialdom in the empire.

By the Zhengtong era, the paths to officialdom in the Great Han Empire had become more clearly divided into three: first, the examinations; second, hereditary favor; third, "entering office through clerical merit." Of these three, no matter how much the examinations were influenced by the ruling class of nobles and academic oligarchs, they remained the empire's fairest method of selection—at least they still offered a glimmer of hope, and every session still saw a few talented men of "humble origins" rise to prominence.

The second path needed no elaboration—it was the privilege of the powerful, and also one of the fundamental reasons the ruling class maintained the empire's rule. Though always attacked by upright scholars and worthy men, it had always existed.

Moreover, in "low profile," it was passed down with ease, firmly grasping an enormous share of the empire's voice. Over more than a hundred years of the empire's development and change, old and new nobles were indeed constantly being replaced, but this class was steadily growing—both the strong backbone of the empire and parasites on its vast body.

As for the third path, it was the most difficult, the most complex in circumstances, and showed a trend of becoming ever more difficult and complex. In the final analysis, throughout the empire, petty officials at all levels numbered in the millions, while the number of court-appointed officials was fixed, and the gap between officials and clerks was constantly widening, as deep and steep as a chasm, giving rise to the saying at the bottom of the officialdom: "Once you enter the clerk's ranks, it's hard to turn over."

Looking back, it was actually during the reign of Emperor Shizu that the ideal of "recruiting talent without restriction" was truly implemented. By the reigns of Taizong and Shizong, the rule of law was continuously strengthened, hierarchies and regulations grew ever more stringent, and the vast body of clerks found things increasingly unfavorable.

Shizong, by establishing clerical administration schools, did indeed cultivate a large number of high-quality clerical talents, but for many students, their first choice remained going to the capital to take the examinations, and only as a last resort were they willing to accept the path of a "clerk."

However, though the transition from clerk to commissioned official was difficult and the ceiling low, it was easy to produce talent, especially practical, capable talent—after all, these were people who had distinguished themselves from among a million clerks, and ability, experience, and luck were all indispensable.

During the six years that Director of State Affairs Fan Zhongyan held the reins of government, there were many rectifications and reforms of the empire's clerical administration. In selecting good and capable men, he vigorously promoted a batch of clerks and granted them commissioned official status. Most of these people possessed practical ability, but they were attacked as the "Fan Faction" and as one of Fan Zhongyan's "misgovernments"—the reason being that he had touched the cheese of other vested interest groups.

These three paths to officialdom, even as they became increasingly clear, also meant the complete solidification of the empire's classes, and this was especially pronounced in the empire's upper ruling structure.

During the Kaibao period, on the foundation of the founding heroes of the Qianyou generation, a group of commoner-clan leaders could still rise: Zhao Pu, Lu Duoxun, Zhang Yong, Li Fang, Lü Duan, Wang You, Wang Yucheng, and others;

During the Taizong period, ministers such as Zhang Qixian, Li Hang, Lü Mengzheng, Xu Shilian, and Kou Zhun also carried the banner of commoner-clan officials;

Even into the Shizong period, there were still famous and capable ministers who rose from obscurity, such as Zhang Jian, Du Yan, Zeng Hui, Wang Qinruo, Ding Wei, Xia Song, and Bao Zheng.

But entering the Zhengtong era—to be precise, from the mid-to-late Jianlong period onward—one could rarely see anyone rising to high position through their own efforts and dazzling talent alone. It was not that there were none, but they were few, and their ceiling was plainly visible.

Those occupying the high positions of the empire's court were now basically monopolized by the noble clique, and the higher one looked, the more so. Whether it was chief ministers in the central ministries or great regional governors, finding someone of ordinary background was actually quite difficult.

It was not that there were no rises from humble origins, but without attaching oneself to the powerful, relying solely on personal ability and hard work to climb to high position was nothing short of wishful thinking. The Great Han Empire was not without such men of integrity, but for the vast majority, whether they could even reach a prefectural post in a lifetime was a big question mark.

Bao Qingtian's reputation was known far and wide—he did not attach himself to the powerful and even deliberately "opposed" them. But how many such men could be counted across the entire realm? Moreover, without the string of buffs of being a graduate of the College of Politics and Law, a close minister of Shizong, and an imperial lecturer to the Emperor, even with Bao Zheng's great renown, how long could he have lasted in the empire's upper echelons?

Even so, he was repeatedly attacked, his position precarious, and his personal career could hardly advance an inch. Honorary titles like Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet and Grand Academician of the Jixian Hall were thrown at him freely, but when Fan Zhongyan twice pushed for Bao Zheng to enter the Hall of State Affairs as chancellor, he was met with unanimous opposition, especially regarding the proposal for the Censor-in-Chief.

Look at some of the ministers who emerged on the empire's political stage in the mid-to-late Shizong period. Ouyang Xiu—by the Zhengtong era already a great literary master—together with Su Shunqin and others, revised the *Book of Tang* and the *History of the Three Dynasties*, and could be called the leader of the new generation of upright scholars.

But Ouyang Xiu's rise, besides his own dazzling talent, owed much to his being a graduate of the College of Politics and Law and a top-ranked *zhuangyuan* in the examinations. And tracing it further back, he relied on the support of several fathers-in-law—first Xu Yan, then Yang Kan and Xue Kui.

Even so, Ouyang Xiu never truly occupied a high position at court throughout his life, never held real or heavy power in the government. He merely had great fame and high literary achievements.

But in the eyes of those who truly held power in the Great Han Empire, he did not even rank. He was more like a Buddha statue that the heads of the household placed in the halls and pavilions—and once his words or deeds overstepped, demotion would soon follow.

Cai Xiang was also a great master and a leader of the upright scholars. He came from the Min school of learning and was now the leading figure of the Putian school. Fu Bi and Han Qi, after years of political experience, had long been rising stars in the empire's political arena, famous throughout court and countryside, but along the way they could not have done without the promotion and support of prime-ministerial talents like Zhang Jian and Du Yan.

And this session's *zhuangyuan* top scholar, Zeng Gong, was a disciple that Grand Academician of the Jixian Hall and Supervisor of the Compilation of the *National History*, Ouyang Xiu, had taken in while at Fangzhou, and was his heir in "ancient prose." What this meant went without saying.

Even Fan Zhongyan himself—had it not been for the reputation his father had built that reached directly to Taizong, had it not been for the halo of being associated with both the Loujiang and Suiyang academies, the two institutions with major influence over the empire's politics—how could he ever have had a day seated in the chancellor's hall?

Of course, the most crucial point in Lord Fan's eventual entry into the halls of power, his appointment as Director of State Affairs, and his winning of "the hopes of the realm," lay in the cultivation and promotion of Emperor Shizong, and also in having good luck—the Zhengtong Emperor being "obedient."

It was precisely in such a talent-selection mechanism and such an environment for official and clerical growth that Fan Zhongyan's years in power came to be evaluated by later generations as "the last era of fairness in the Great Han Empire."

But even the fairness maintained by Lord Fan, who was single-mindedly devoted to the public good, had to be put in quotation marks, because the court system he upheld was, at its root, a defense of the empire's nobles.

On the one hand firmly upholding the empire's rule and legal system, on the other hand having to suppress and restrict the noble officials who served as the foundation of that rule—one can imagine in what a contradictory, agonizing, and difficult state Fan Zhongyan's governance was conducted. To say he was barely holding on is not wrong in the slightest.

Nothing is perfect, and precisely because of the increasingly suffocating, binding political environment and promotion system that followed Fan Zhongyan, it became all the more evident how precious was the hard-won clarity and integrity of the empire during Fan Zhongyan's time.

However, no matter how solidified things became, the literati of the realm and talented men of humble origins still ultimately had some possibility of rising. That ladder to the dragon gate was stubbornly maintained and reinforced by commoner-clan officials, and used by the meritorious noble clique as a decorative facade.

The path of upward mobility, though narrow, did after all exist.

In contrast, what was truly suffocating was the military. For over a hundred years, the military merit nobility's grip on the empire's armed forces, though on a declining trend, still wielded powerful influence.

On the other hand, while military bureaucratism was surging, certain rules unique to the military command and military administration systems were also becoming more solidified. The most notable point was likewise the promotion mechanism and the path of advancement.

By the Zhengtong era, for the empire's officers and soldiers, advancement depending on one's backing and recognizing one's origins had become a very ordinary matter—indeed, it had long been deeply ingrained in people's minds and accepted by all, as if these rules had existed since birth.

For an ordinary enlisted soldier, without a powerful backer, relying solely on normal military training, garrison duty, and pacification operations, merely reaching the rank of "centurion" in a lifetime was already extremely rare.

Most people, once past the age limit, were sent back home to farm. If they had meritorious service, or managed to earn a military post, they might have a chance to be placed in the local corvée system or the militia system, getting a job from the local government—but even such people were only one in ten.

The Great Han army of the Zhengtong era had, for ordinary officers and soldiers, gradually lost its former glory and treatment. The Zhaolie Temple in the Eastern Capital held grand sacrifices every year, but those spirits and wills that had once stirred hearts and struck straight at the soul were gradually gathering dust.

The sources of the empire's military officers came more from hereditary favor granted to the noble and general families, and from the empire's several major military academies. As for the military examinations, they had been completely ruined by now, serving merely as one item on the résumé of officers about to be promoted.

As for the selection of military talent, the army had its own rules!

And this solidification of the military was most severe in the navy.