Chapter 19

According to protocol, Ming emperors were supposed to receive vegetables from the Guanglu Temple, but by the Jiajing era, this duty had shifted to the imperial kitchen, as Emperor Jiajing distrusted the outer court ministers.

The small kitchen in Qianqing Palace was overseen by eunuchs—a position of close proximity to the emperor, typically held by the Chief Eunuch of the Office of Imperial Ceremonial, the Eastern Depot eunuch, and the Qianqing Palace eunuch.

After Feng Bao had just made a mistake, this small kitchen post in Qianqing Palace was given to Zhang Hong.

When Zhang Hong heard the emperor ask what the dish was, he hurriedly replied, “Your Majesty, this is a tribute item sent from Yuegang, said to be a foreign food. If Your Majesty dislikes it, I shall not prepare it again.”

“One does not speak while eating, nor talk while sleeping,” Empress Dowager Li rebuked the young emperor sternly for violating ritual propriety by speaking during meals.

Zhu Yijun turned and fixed his gaze tightly on Zhang Hong, his eyes carrying a hint of ferocity; even when dealing with cases like those of Wang Zhanglong, the emperor’s smile had always been bright and open, but now, it seemed as if one wrong answer from Zhang Hong would send him straight to the Dissection Courtyard to be sliced a thousand times.

The emperor asked, his voice trembling with intense anticipation: “Do you have any left?”

“Yes, there’s still plenty,” Zhang Hong replied weakly. The Empress Dowager had already scolded him, but the emperor was asking—and Zhang Hong was caught between them. He did not want to enter the Dissection Courtyard; compared to that, the Empress Dowager would merely banish him to the corridor.

Upon hearing there was still some left, Zhu Yijun immediately relaxed.

“My son,” Empress Dowager Li’s tone grew sharper, more severe.

Zhu Yijun said to Zhang Hong: “Bring it so I may see it.”

“Emperor!” Empress Dowager Li finally grew angry—eat your meal in silence! Why look at tribute items?

“I’m just curious to see it,” Zhu Yijun said, flashing his bright, open smile.

But remembering how well the emperor had recently behaved, she suppressed the urge to scold him. After all, what child doesn’t have curiosity? To see something unusual is natural.

This was Qianqing Palace, not Wenhua Hall, nor before the outer court ministers—too strict a restraint would hinder the emperor’s growth.

Previously, Empress Dowager Li had been extremely strict, and the reason was simple: Feng Bao’s scheming was only a minor factor; the most important was that the young emperor had studied for six months yet still failed to gain recognition from the outer ministers, which made Empress Dowager Li so anxious.

Empress Dowager Li feared most that her child would fail to smoothly inherit the Great Ming; her greatest hope was that Zhu Yijun would firmly and steadily assume personal rule.

Since the Grand Secretary Zhang Juzheng held the young emperor in high regard, it was appropriate to ease the restrictions.

Three or four round yellow tubers appeared before Zhu Yijun, each no larger than his fist, speckled with black spots, neither sprouted nor turned green—nothing spoiled could enter the small kitchen for the emperor’s consumption; these were the leftovers after selection, meant only to satisfy the emperor’s curiosity.

“This tastes somewhat like water chestnuts. What is it called?” Empress Dowager Li asked Zhang Hong.

Zhang Hong hurriedly answered: “The foreigners call it potato, because it resembles a horse bell; the Fujianese call it earth bean, meaning a bean grown in the soil. If Your Majesty dislikes it, I shall send these vegetables straight to the Caihu Camp.”

“Do you know the yield of this crop?” Zhu Yijun’s excited heart slowly calmed as he stared at the dull yellow lump of earth.

It’s just a potato. He’d seen them before.

“It was presented by Luo Gongchen, the Director of the Doushang Office and Deputy Commissioner of Coastal Defense, who claimed that one mu in the southern seas yields twenty to thirty dan. Most court ministers disbelieved it. It was sent last year, and has yet to be planted in the capital, though rumors say it is grown in Yuegang.” Zhang Hong himself found it hard to believe—could this lump of earth really yield over twenty dan per mu? One dan was one hundred and twenty jin—that’s over two thousand jin per mu. Who would believe that?

Zhang Hong added thoughtfully: “Along with it came sweet potatoes, brought by ships from Luzon. I haven’t prepared them yet.”

“Good. Don’t prepare them,” Zhu Yijun said, turning to Empress Dowager Li: “Doushang Office?”

Empress Dowager Li, seeing the young emperor’s puzzled expression, said with quiet satisfaction: “In the thirtieth year of Jiajing, Fujian was ravaged by Japanese pirates. The Jinghai Office was established at Yuegang. Later, twenty-four pirate leaders, including Xie Lao and Zhang Wei, were subdued.”

“In the forty-second year of Jiajing, the current Minister of War Tan Lun, then serving as Provincial Governor of Fujian, renamed the Yuegang Jinghai Office as the Haifang Office. Last year, the Haifang Office moved from Chenghai County to the harbor and was renamed the Doushang Office.”

“The Doushang Office oversees maritime tribute and taxation: levying six percent on every hundred, converted to silver, and escorted to the capital.”

Empress Dowager Li spoke with ease and precision. Even the taste of the potato slices seemed better now. Previously, when the child struggled with his studies, he showed no interest in state affairs; when she spoke to him, he grew impatient. Today, he asked on his own.

Zhu Yijun understood: the Doushang Office was essentially a customs house, responsible for collecting taxes.

Empress Dowager Li continued: “Luo Gongchen is a scholar who passed the provincial examination but failed the metropolitan.”

“When the Japanese pirates erupted along the southeast coast, thousands of miles of frontier were in peril, smoke rising everywhere, shaking court and realm alike. Luo Gongchen organized civilian and military resistance, holding off powerful enemies with a lone force. When pirates invaded Songjiang Prefecture, he led his men on a night march to reinforce Songjiang, rising from Assistant Surveillance Commissioner of Zhejiang to Deputy Commissioner of Coastal Defense.”

Luo Gongchen was a scholar, yet in resisting the pirates, he repeatedly earned military merit. At a time when the pirates raged fiercely, this scholar took up sword and quelled them, gaining great fame.

The gap between scholars was indeed vast.

“Last year, when he returned to the capital for his official review, he met many people, but the matters he wished to accomplish were never completed,” Empress Dowager Li said, her appetite fading. She put down her chopsticks, her expression troubled.

The struggle over opening the sea and establishing Yuegang was fraught with peril. Even if Luo Gongchen’s intentions were noble, without support in court, his efforts were in vain.

Luo Gongchen first sought an audience at the residence of Yang Bo, Minister of Personnel, through the recommendation of his former superior Tan Lun. Tan Lun had returned home to observe mourning for his parents; his reappointment came through Yang Bo’s recommendation—this was a great favor in Ming officialdom.

Tan Lun thought Luo Gongchen’s idea sound and recommended him to Yang Bo.

Why did the Censorate’s Censor of the Ministry of Personnel impeach Tan Lun?

Because Tan Lun was from the Zhe Army, a comrade of Qi Jiguang, and under the influence of Qi Jiguang and Liang Menglong—both Zhe Army men—Tan Lun had grown far too close to Zhang Juzheng.

As leader of the Jin Party, Yang Bo was already angered by Tan Lun’s ingratitude. He refused Luo Gongchen outright, even refusing to accept his memorial.

Luo Gongchen then turned to Qi Jiguang for help, asking him to recommend him to Zhang Juzheng. Zhang Juzheng, upon hearing Luo Gongchen’s proposal, strongly approved, affixed his personal seal to the seam of the memorial, and sent it to the Tongzheng Office. After the Grand Secretariat drafted the response, it failed to pass in two court deliberations.

Eventually, Luo Gongchen’s official review deadline expired, and he returned to Yuegang in Fujian to await news.

These potatoes and sweet potatoes were the gifts Luo Gongchen brought to the capital then. The palace had some; Zhang Juzheng’s Quanchu Guild Hall had some too. Yang Bo should have had some as well—but since he never met Luo Gongchen, he had none.

In the first year of Wanli, potatoes were still rare in the capital, but in the south, they had already been introduced during the Jiajing era.

“What was Luo Gongchen’s purpose in coming to the capital?” Zhu Yijun searched his memory but found no relevant information.

The Wanli Emperor himself disliked state affairs, and under Empress Dowager Li’s extreme strictness, he developed a rebellious indifference, letting everything go in one ear and out the other.

Empress Dowager Li leaned back in her chair, slightly agitated: “Luo Gongchen wants to levy taxes—specifically, to impose a duty on ocean-going ships: a six percent ad valorem tax on foreign vessels.”

“Ocean-going ships? Luo Gongchen wants to tax ocean-going ships?”

Empress Dowager Li confirmed: “Yes, on ocean-going ships.”

“The Grand Censor of the Censorate opposes the tax increase, and his reasons are reasonable.”

“Ge Shouli said: The state’s customs duties are already clearly defined. At major trade routes and commercial hubs, there are customs offices; in every prefecture, there are Tax Collection Offices responsible for collecting silver taxes. The laws are thorough and leave no loopholes. Taxes are already heavy enough—why suddenly impose new ones? This is taking profit from the people.”

“Minister of Rites Lu Shusheng also opposes, saying ancestral law has remained unchanged for two hundred years. Opening the sea and establishing Yuegang for trade already violates ancestral precedent—must we continue violating it?”

“The Ministry of Rites further argues that these foreign barbarians—the red-haired Franks—cannot even learn proper etiquette, bowing crookedly and disrespectfully. Taxing their ships violates the Doctrine of the Mean’s principle of ‘gently treating distant peoples’ and contradicts ancestral law, risking another Japanese pirate outbreak.”

“The matter was dropped.”

“Zhang Yuan still intends to push it forward. He kept Luo Gongchen’s memorial and told him to return and wait for news.”

Empress Dowager Li had only read the Book of Women’s Precepts; reading such formal memorials was difficult for her. Feng Bao, however, was educated—this was one reason she once trusted him deeply.

Luo Gongchen first approached Yang Bo, who rejected him. Zhang Juzheng, however, was gracious, honoring Qi Jiguang’s favor, admitted Luo into the Quanchu Guild Hall, and even affixed his seal to the memorial.

What kind of man was Zhang Juzheng? Those who loved him and those who hated him would both admit he was a man of great talent. Likewise, everyone in the realm knew Zhang Juzheng was a man who held grudges.

Luo Gongchen wants to tax ocean-going ships. The Minister of Rites and the Grand Censor oppose it. Zhang Juzheng insists on pushing it forward—this is about authority.

As Grand Secretary, Zhang Juzheng has held power for only a few months. Taxing ocean-going ships does not threaten the interests of any court ministers. If he cannot even get this passed, he will push it through purely to establish his authority.

Minister of Rites Lu Shusheng was recommended by Zhang Juzheng himself to become Minister of Rites. His chair had barely warmed before he began invoking ritual law to oppose Zhang Juzheng’s policies.

If asked his opinion on taxing ocean-going ships with a six percent levy, what would Zhu Yijun say?

Does this need discussion? Collect it! Must collect it! If a customs office doesn’t collect taxes, is that acceptable? Is that acceptable!

Remember, the taxes from Yuegang: part goes to the state treasury, part goes to the imperial treasury.

That’s my money!

Whoever opposes it, I’ll accuse them of colluding with foreigners and send them to Yongning Temple at the Heilongjiang estuary to break ice and fish.

“Mother,” Zhu Yijun said solemnly after finishing his meal in silence, “I wish to try planting these potatoes and sweet potatoes.”

Empress Dowager Li stared at the young emperor, her face filled with disbelief. She asked dumbfounded: “The emperor says he wants to farm? Is this to understand the farmers’ plight? Have Zhang Yuan arrange it.”

Zhu Yijun shook his head: “Not to understand the farmers’ plight, nor to worship the spring god Jumang. I mean to farm: dig holes, plant seeds, water, fertilize—personally tend to agriculture.”

“Wait—you mean you want to go into the fields yourself?” Empress Dowager Li was half-amused, half-exasperated. Her son had already neglected his studies; now he wanted to do farm work? Was that what an emperor should do?

Truly, he was neglecting his duties.

“Yes,” Zhu Yijun said firmly. “I will plant potatoes.”

For now, set aside the tax issue. He had not yet assumed personal rule; let Zhang Juzheng lead the charge.

But these potatoes must be planted.

The people’s livelihood rests on food. Food is greater than heaven.

Food is the unshakable foundation of imperial power.