Chapter 30: Chapter Thirty: Virtue Is the Law Within the Heart, Law Is the Written Virtue

Zhu Yijun truly disliked these Confucian scholars; conversing with them always exhausted him, like this lecture session, where the young emperor had to ask first: what is governance?

Lecturer Wang Jiaoping paused a moment before speaking: “Governance means rectitude; one who governs must be upright.”

Another lecturer, Fan Yingqi, the palace scholar of the Jiajing forty-fourth year, bowed and said: “Governance is culture; one who governs values culture.”

Wang Jiaoping, without waiting for the emperor’s question, continued: “The way of governance is to rectify people, employ upright men, follow the right path, and perform righteous deeds.”

“Affairs of state are complex, but all one needs is to appoint the right upright men. The foremost duty of governance is personnel selection; when virtuous men hold high office, the wicked restrain their conduct; holding lofty positions yet wielding simplicity, one handles heavy burdens as if they were light.”

Fan Yingqi continued: “The method of governance: writing carries the Dao, the pen is the tool, culture transforms the people, and the pen brings forth blossoms.”

“Amidst clamorous voices, guide them toward rectitude; the primary initiative of governance is to correct the moral climate. When the climate is clear and serene, evil deeds have nowhere to hide; the pen as a tool, its intent boundless, educates all the people.”

Wang Jiaoping spoke with solemn gravity: “With rectitude and culture, governance can be achieved, the state can be hoped for, and the people will turn toward it.”

After listening to the two men’s words, Zhu Yijun stared at Zhang Juzheng’s annotated version of the “Four Books: Direct Explanation of the Analects” for a long while before saying: “Master Yuanfu interprets ‘zheng’ thus: those who govern but are not upright must correct others’ wrongful conduct—that is governance; only after correction can order be achieved. What do you two think?”

Zhang Juzheng’s interpretation of ‘zheng’ and the lecturers’ interpretations of ‘zheng’ both yielded the character ‘zheng.’

Zhang Juzheng’s interpretation was a verb: ‘zheng’ as correction, an exercise of authority to rectify.

But the lecturers interpreted it as a noun: ‘zheng’ as righteousness, as correctness.

Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi exchanged glances, then bowed and spoke in unison: “Master Yuanfu is correct.”

“Hahaha!” Feng Bao and Zhang Hong, the two eunuchs, did not spare their mockery; they said eunuchs flatter the sovereign, yet which of these court ministers was not a sycophant to power? All shared the same moral character—why did civil officials constantly denounce eunuchs for flattery?

When the two Grand Secretaries’ lectures diverged from Zhang Juzheng’s understanding, they could only say one thing: “Master Yuanfu is correct?”

Zhu Yijun smiled.

Feng Bao watched Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi; Zhang Juzheng responded to the emperor with effortless fluency, yet these two lecturers seemed awkward and constrained.

Zhang Juzheng was Chief Grand Secretary; the current Cabinet differed vastly from the early Ming Cabinet, which had been little more than a secretariat, assisting the emperor with paperwork. Now, the Cabinet wielded immense power as the administrative center.

The Cabinet’s rise in power began during the Zhengtong era, when the state was young and uncertain, and the Three Yangs assisted in governance. During the Jingtai, Tianshun, and Chenghua reigns, there was some regression, but by the Hongzhi reign of Emperor Xiaozong, the Cabinet had become the representative of ministerial authority, and the Chief Grand Secretary’s status grew increasingly noble, gradually becoming the head of all officials.

In early Ming, the Cabinet possessed only deliberative power—it could offer opinions but held no administrative authority.

By the Wanli era, the Chief Grand Secretary not only held deliberative power but also administrative authority, and a portion of the emperor’s exclusive decision-making power had shifted to the Cabinet.

Yang Bo, Wang Chonggu, Zhang Siwei, and Ge Shouli, all powerful Jin Party figures, could still challenge Zhang Juzheng, but Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi lacked the courage to question Zhang Juzheng’s views; otherwise, they would be dismissed the next day for stepping into the office with their left foot.

Zhu Yijun looked at Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi and asked: “What is virtue?”

Wang Jiaoping bowed: “Benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness.”

Fan Yingqi bowed: “Warmth, goodness, reverence, frugality, and yielding.”

Wang Jiaoping continued: “Cultivating oneself, regulating the family, governing the state, pacifying the world—all rest on the foundation of investigating things, acquiring knowledge, sincerity of intent, and rectifying the heart. One’s cultivation lies in the heart as virtue, outwardly manifesting as propriety.”

Fan Yingqi continued: “Broad learning, cautious thought, steadfast practice—to attain benevolence, which rests on goodness, humility, frugality, and forbearance. When billions of people cultivate themselves, guide them by virtue, align them by propriety.”

All were correct nonsense.

After listening, Zhu Yijun asked the two lecturers: “Master Yuanfu interprets ‘de’ thus: virtue is the principle one personally experiences—only by personally encountering, observing, thinking, and reflecting can one attain virtue.”

“The moral norms and ethical principles must first be embodied within oneself, then used to teach and transform the world; the laws and regulations must first be upheld by oneself, then enacted to order the world—this is called: virtue is the law within the heart, law is the written virtue.”

“Cultivate oneself by virtue, govern the state by law, correct those who are not upright—govern by virtue.”

“What do you two Grand Secretaries think?”

Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi, helpless, bowed: “Master Yuanfu is correct.”

When ‘zheng’ is a noun, the virtue it implies is a noun; when ‘zheng’ is a verb, the virtue it implies is a verb.

“You two scholars, can you only say ‘Master Yuanfu is correct’?” Zhu Yijun said with disappointment; as a ten-year-old emperor, he was eager to learn governance, yet Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi dared not challenge Zhang Juzheng’s authority.

“Your Majesty is wise,” Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi, unsure how to respond, could only bow.

“Hahaha!” Feng Bao and Zhang Hong burst into loud laughter, openly mocking the two embarrassed scholars.

As eunuchs, Feng Bao and Zhang Hong’s duty was to clash with the outer court under the emperor’s orders; when these court ministers lost face, Feng Bao and Zhang Hong naturally seized the advantage—when else but now to strike a fallen man?

“You two scholars, do you even hear the words you speak?” Feng Bao asked, still chuckling.

“Enough, enough,” Zhu Yijun halted their laughter. “The lecture in Wenhua Hall is being observed by the ritual inspectors—how unseemly!”

The ritual inspectors, responsible for correcting etiquette, immediately stood rigidly, their faces solemn, their smiles gone.

The ritual inspectors were appointed from the Great Han Generals, a military post under the Embroidered Uniform Guard, specifically trained to enforce court etiquette; they were rigorously disciplined and never laughed under normal circumstances.

After all, they were tasked with correcting the etiquette of court ministers and officials.

Yet just now, the ritual inspectors had been laughing at these two Grand Secretaries.

Zhu Yijun, sitting upright, looked at the two Grand Secretaries: “You two scholars, I have a doubt.”

“Govern by virtue. The gentleman governs others. But if a gentleman lacks virtue, what then?”

“Or, if a gentleman does not cultivate virtue, does not discipline himself, does not revere virtue, does not cultivate himself—what then?”

“More precisely: a gentleman treats the world as his private possession, judging right and wrong solely by his own standard. He is learned, experienced, worldly, and skilled at disguise, adept at exploiting rules for personal gain, benefiting only himself, not the people, lacking broad vision and resolve, clinging to office and salary, pursuing private interests, neglecting public duties—what then?”

When debating Zhang Juzheng, Zhu Yijun would not explain so thoroughly, for merely saying “the gentleman lacks virtue” was enough; Zhang Juzheng would understand. But with these two lecturers, Zhu Yijun feared they would not comprehend, so he spoke with utmost clarity.

Efficiency was clearly low. Zhang Juzheng was a pragmatic official who understood adaptability; these two Grand Secretaries were pure stream scholars, revering propriety and virtue, utterly disdainful of adaptability.

Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi fell silent, their postures slightly unsteady—could this even be discussed?

This was a slippery slope one dared not touch—how could one answer?

The emperor’s question sounded increasingly like an attack on the Jin Party!

Wang Jiaoping spoke firmly: “When a gentleman is confused and acts unrighteously, one must dare to confront his face, speak his faults, unafraid of punishment, even if it costs one’s life for the state’s safety! One must not regret one’s actions—such a man is a straight minister. I, as a minister, must be such a straight minister. If I lack virtue, I impeach; if the ruler…”

Wang Jiaoping faltered. Fan Yingqi, standing by to support, stepped forward: “If the ruler…”

“If the ruler… what?” Zhu Yijun asked with a smile.

Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi realized they had been tricked!

The emperor had consistently emphasized that the gentleman governs others, interpreting ‘gentleman’ as the ruler of the state—but when ‘jun’ contrasts with ‘chen,’ it means only the emperor!

For a thousand years, the principle has been: the ruler is ruler, the minister is minister; sons do not speak of their father’s faults, ministers do not speak of their ruler’s failures.

For example, King Zhou of Shang lost the realm because of Daji; only ministers kneel before Yue Fei’s temple, never Zhao Gou; Qin Hui deceived the sovereign. Emperor Yingzong’s defeat at Tumu Fortress was blamed on Wang Zhen; Zhu Qizhen executed Yu Qian under the pretext of “intent to rebel,” shifting blame to Xu Youzhen.

Most of these sovereigns’ faults were attributed to imperial consorts or eunuch flatterers.

Emperors are always pure, always clean.

“If the ruler errs, one should remonstrate,” Zhu Yijun completed their sentence, then asked: “Remonstrance means to advise. If the emperor refuses to listen, what then?”

“In the Jiajing forty-fourth year, Hai Rui carried his coffin to submit the ‘Memorial on State Security,’ angrily rebuking the monarch for being unfaithful and unfilial. My grandfather said Hai Rui wished to emulate Bi Gan. I do not wish to be King Zhou of Shang, so I spared his life. When my predecessor ascended the throne, he pardoned all, and Hai Rui was released from prison, still serving as a censor.”

“Yet after my predecessor ascended, he did not summon his ministers for six years, attending court but doing nothing. If the emperor refuses to listen to advice, what then?”

Governing by virtue makes logical sense, but under the Confucian framework of ruler-ruler, minister-minister, what if the emperor neglects virtue?

“Six years without summoning ministers, attending court but doing nothing”—that was not Zhu Yijun’s own words; it was the remonstrance of Gao Gong and the ministers.

Emperor Longqing ruled for six years, never summoning ministers, treating court sessions perfunctorily, frequently canceling them. Ministers pleaded, but to no avail. Yet both Emperor Jiajing and Emperor Longqing still signed edicts; the Ming correction mechanism still functioned. Later, Emperor Wanli, unable to win the succession dispute, simply gave up, refusing even to sign.

The ministers stopped fighting. What was the point? There was no one to fight—could they duel with air?

Emperor Wanli did not attend court for thirty years, refused to join daily deliberations, and refused to sign edicts—were there no remonstrances? Many remonstrated, but the emperor followed the Three Nos: no listening, no reading, no speaking. The court nearly ceased to function.

Emperor Wanli had no answer to the ministers’ “Memorial on Alcohol, Wealth, Power, and Lust”—he could not win.

The ministers had no answer to Emperor Wanli’s Three Big No’s either—only to remonstrate.

What if they remonstrated and he refused to listen?

“One must die in remonstrance!” Wang Jiaoping had to answer—the emperor had a doubt, and as a lecturer, he must resolve it, but he could only offer a vague reply.

Zhu Yijun shook his head: “If one were to dash one’s head against a pillar, the ritual inspectors would stop you, then charge you with breach of etiquette and send you to the Northern Town Surveillance Office. Hai Rui carried his coffin to remonstrate—was he not imprisoned in the Northern Town Surveillance Office until the general pardon?”

“Dying in remonstrance—what use is it if he does not listen, does not read, does not speak?”

Wenhua Hall fell silent, save for the wind rustling the curtains, making all aware time was passing. The air grew still, the atmosphere heavy. Wang Jiaoping and Fan Yingqi said nothing—this conversation could not continue; to continue would be disloyal and unfilial.

Wang Jiaoping’s heart screamed: the emperor does nothing, the emperor neglects virtue—what should be done?

What can be done?

Gao Gong’s “Memorial on Five Matters” was clearly the best solution!

On the first day of the sixth month of Longqing sixth year, Gao Gong submitted the “Memorial on Five Matters,” containing five points: one, the emperor must hold court to hear governance; two, punish eunuch domination; three, abolish the Directorate of Palace Affairs; four, restore authority to the Cabinet; five, memorials not first reviewed and drafted by the Cabinet must not be directly approved by imperial decree.

Of Gao Gong’s five points, the most taboo was the last: memorials not reviewed by the Cabinet were illegal; the emperor must personally explain them. The others could be framed as power struggles between the Cabinet and the Directorate, since the Hongwu era had no such thing as the Directorate of Palace Affairs.

But what did Gao Gong mean by this last point?

It terrified Empress Dowager Li.

Especially since Gao Gong submitted this memorial only six days after Emperor Longqing’s death—before even the seven-day mourning period!

“You two, shall I call Master Yuanfu?” Zhu Yijun, seeing the two Grand Secretaries stammering, offered them an escape, choosing to spare them.

Zhu Yijun was Zhang Juzheng’s breaker of walls; these two scholars had not even grasped the meanings of ‘zheng’ and ‘de’—they were not yet worthy.