Chapter 39

Yang Bo looked at the Censorate and Remonstrance officials with deep concern; from them, he saw the Ming dynasty truly sinking toward sunset—these officials had long lost their backbone, and it wasn’t Gu Shouli’s doing, for Gu Shouli truly obeyed Yang Bo.

If Yang Bo had openly endorsed the Emperor’s decision in the Wenhua Hall, Gu Shouli would not have privately gathered the remonstrance officials.

Who did it?

Zhang Siwei.

Zhang Siwei was eager to replace Yang Bo and become the leader of the Jin Party; he was desperate to demonstrate his own influence.

“Ah.” Yang Bo sighed; as the ceremonial whip cracked three times, court officials entered the Wenhua Hall and knelt in sequence.

“Your subjects pay homage to Your Majesty—how is Your Majesty’s health?” The ministers cried out in unison.

Zhu Yijun did not bid them rise, but spoke: “My health is fine, but my mood is poor—ninety-two Censorate and Remonstrance officials are kneeling outside the Chengtian Gate.”

“They tell me: they are loyal to the sovereign and devoted to the state, seeking to curb flattery and foster integrity, to defend upright scholars and speak for loyal ministers, for the great welfare of the realm, to offer harsh but necessary advice, even at the cost of incurring blame.”

“Full of benevolence and righteousness on the lips, full of deceit and treachery in the heart.”

“They make it seem as if I am persecuting loyal ministers, fostering factionalism and exclusion, and acting without principle or discipline in appointments and dismissals.”

“I am ashamed,” Yang Bo said, deeply humiliated.

Gu Shouli, head of the Censorate and Remonstrance officials, could not control them; Yang Bo, head of the Jin Party, could not restrain his own faction.

“Feng Dabao, go explain this clearly to them—make them understand—see if they will rise and return to their offices,” Zhu Yijun said, still not dismissing the court officials, but ordering Feng Bao to negotiate with the Censorate officials for the first time.

“I beg to accompany you,” Gu Shouli cried loudly—it wasn’t him, he had never intended to gather them; if the Empress Dowager learned of this, how would she view him as Chief Censor?

This storm could not be resolved by the Inner Court alone; as Chief Censor, he must go himself.

“Go,” Zhu Yijun waved his hand, signaling Gu Shouli to accompany him; Gu Shouli, head of the Censorate and Remonstrance officials, was made head by them—he was head only because they allowed it; Gu Shouli should have recognized this long ago, instead of being sold out and still counting the coins for others.

“Rise,” Zhu Yijun glanced around the court and waved his hand.

“Thank Your Majesty’s great grace,” the ministers rose but did not sit for the court deliberation; they stood silently, for the late spring chill was cold, all windows of the Wenhua Hall were shut, and within, only the sound of the young Emperor turning pages and writing could be heard.

Yang Bo grew ever more certain of his inner suspicion: the young Emperor would surely uproot the Jin Party, now corrupted into a clan faction.

Zhang Juzheng was curious: after such a major incident, the young Emperor’s face remained as calm as ever, even reading and writing!

There was no fear, no panic—only a quiet certainty that this was how things should be.

Zhang Juzheng had served for decades before he truly understood these men’s faces; from whom had the young Emperor learned this air of serene detachment?

After much thought, the Grand Secretary realized it was probably from himself.

For he had never cared much for these rigid so-called pure stream officials.

The Censorate and Remonstrance officials had gathered before the Heavenly Gate; Zhang Juzheng had a plan, but he wished to first see the Emperor’s.

Feng Bao and Gu Shouli returned quickly; the facts were simple to explain. Feng Bao was sharp-tongued, Gu Shouli urged everyone to return, but the effect was slight—ninety-two officials remained, thirty had left, leaving one hundred fifty-four.

Zhu Yijun laid down his brush and asked Zhang Juzheng: “Yesterday, the Censor of Criminal Affairs recommended Hai Rui for court service. I asked the Empress Dowager about Hai Rui yesterday—she said he is a green pine and cypress, unyielding in his uprightness. I and the Empress Dowager intend to recall Hai Rui—what does the Grand Secretary think?”

“Hai Rui is upright, but too rigid—he will break easily; he is no competent administrator,” Zhang Juzheng’s stance remained unchanged; in this dragon’s den and tiger’s lair of the capital, excessive rigidity leads only to death.

He did not oppose Hai Rui’s return to serve, but believed Hai Rui’s inflexibility would bring him relentless exclusion and certain death.

Zhu Yijun saw Zhang Juzheng did not oppose—he knew his guess yesterday was right: Zhang Juzheng had left that blank recommendation slip to reserve opinion; to reserve opinion was to abstain, to not clearly oppose.

That was enough.

The young Emperor said to Feng Bao: “Feng Dabao, go tell them what will happen if Hai Rui returns.”

Hai Rui, this sharp blade, if recalled, can curb flattery, foster integrity, defend upright scholars, speak for loyal ministers, serve the realm’s great interests, and offer harsh but necessary advice—even at the cost of incurring blame.

“Your servant obeys,” Feng Bao led a group of palace guards toward the Chengtian Gate; his heart pounded—he prayed desperately that these fools kneeling outside would agree.

The Emperor’s patience runs out after the second time—there is no third!

This is already the second negotiation—if they still kneel, the Emperor’s rage will be unstoppable, even by Feng Bao.

So what if he is ten years old? Is a ten-year-old not the Emperor?

As Feng Bao walked, he pondered a strategy; glancing at Gu Shouli beside him, he paused, then smiled: “Chief Censor Gu, let me say a few words—do you want to see rivers of blood? Don’t take this lightly—I speak for the Censorate and Remonstrance officials’ own good.”

“The Emperor’s temper allows only two chances, no third—this is already the second negotiation; if they still refuse, heads will roll before the Chengtian Gate today. The Emperor is young, but when the Empress Dowager hears of this, will these officials gain anything?”

“You know the realm is in turmoil with a young sovereign—what the Empress Dowager fears most is ‘the sovereign is young, the state is doubtful.’ The Emperor has made his decision; the officials’ reaction—Chief Censor Gu, what do you think the Empress Dowager will do when she hears of this gathering before the Heavenly Gate?”

“What? Could it be that serious?” Gu Shouli turned pale—how could a ten-year-old sovereign dare? Heads rolling, rivers of blood!

But recalling how the Empress Dowager had expelled Gao Gong, he knew she could go mad—and no one could stop her.

Feng Bao shuddered—he was not afraid of the Empress Dowager; he was afraid of the young Emperor. “It is that serious,” he said firmly.

“Three useless men for one Hai Gangfeng’s return? Not a bad deal! It will be worse than this! Precisely because the sovereign is ten, it is worse—do you understand?”

“Think of Gao Gong.”

Feng Bao stopped, letting Gu Shouli weigh the pros and cons: three useless men for one Hai Gangfeng’s return—this was no losing proposition.

Hai Rui was not of the Jin Party, but this blade was so sharp, anyone could wield it.

A ten-year-old sovereign, amid a state of doubt, was more dangerous; this gathering before the Heavenly Gate forced the young sovereign to yield—it was an affront to imperial authority. Before the Ming Emperor even flew into a rage, the Empress Dowager would have already gone mad.

No one could predict what a mad Empress Dowager might do.

“I will persuade them well,” Gu Shouli said, hands clasped, confident.

“So it was you who gathered them! Chief Censor Gu, how bold you are!” Feng Bao’s demeanor shifted instantly—he had just been gentle, now he slapped a heavy accusation on Gu Shouli’s head!

“It wasn’t me! Don’t slander my integrity!” Gu Shouli turned pale, shouting fiercely.

“Hah!” Feng Bao burst into laughter, hands behind his back, striding toward the Chengtian Gate—he had only been teasing Gu Shouli.

“It wasn’t me!”

“Hah!”

Gu Shouli returned to the Chengtian Gate, standing before the Censorate and Remonstrance officials, his heart a tangle of emotions; he was beginning to realize the Jin Party had changed.

The Analects, Wei Linggong Chapter, says: “The gentleman is dignified but not contentious, sociable but not partisan.” Meaning: the gentleman does not quarrel with others, joins with others but does not form cliques for selfish ends.

This gradually evolved into: “The gentleman joins but does not form cliques; the petty man forms cliques but does not join.” The gentleman gathers over shared ideals or interests, but does not form cliques for private gain; the petty man forms cliques for selfish ends, harming others for personal benefit.

How did the Jin Party gradually form?

In the twenty-ninth year of Jiajing, the northern barbarian khan Altan Khan, angered by the Ming’s refusal to open tribute markets, launched war. The commander of Datong, Chou Luan, bribed Altan Khan, who then attacked Beigukou and plundered the capital region for eight full days; only after the Ming agreed to open tribute markets did he depart, laden with loot—this was the Gengxu Incident.

The Jin Party grew and strengthened over twelve years of warfare from Jiajing thirty-two to Jiajing forty-five, aiming to resolve the northern barbarian threat; eventually, they resolved it peacefully, through civil means and cultural influence, achieving reconciliation with the northern barbarians.

At first, the Jin Party gathered out of shared purpose—to resolve the northern barbarian invasions—and was a party of gentlemen.

After the Longqing peace agreement and Altan Khan’s enfeoffment, Gu Shouli stood before all the Censorate and Remonstrance officials and suddenly felt disoriented—the Jin Party had grown increasingly alien, increasingly repulsive.

The Jin Party had become a party of petty men; the Emperor’s description was more precise: the Jin Party had become a clan faction.

Gu Shouli pondered: how had the Jin Party become a clan faction?

A single word from the Emperor had silenced Gu Shouli completely.

Gu Shouli thought it began when Yang Bo’s son married Wang Chonggu’s daughter—or even earlier?

Were these censors truly beyond distinguishing right from wrong? Not necessarily.

Even Gu Shouli himself had only learned, when Feng Bao mentioned it, that Lu Shusheng had also coughed at the Chaoritan and committed a breach of etiquette—this was one reason he had ceased pressing the matter.

Accusing breaches of etiquette and factional persecution were two different things; even if he were dense, he knew the difference.

Feng Bao could accuse Gu Shouli of clinging to power or forming cliques, but he could not accuse him of lacking magnanimity or resolve; if Gu Shouli were truly lacking in magnanimity and resolve, a coward with only private interests and no public good, he would never have directly confronted the Grand Secretary.

And these younger censors and remonstrance officials before him—weren’t they the same?

Did they truly know the truth?

“Listen to me!” Gu Shouli shouted into the howling wind: “The court has already reached a verdict—Luo Zun, Jing Song, Han Bixian—they got what they deserved. They enjoy the state’s salary, yet ignore the Emperor’s intent, fabricate trivialities, and pursue factional exclusion—they are heading straight for the party strife of the Song dynasties!”

“Do you wish to become such men?”

Gu Shouli’s voice was loud, but few paid attention.

“Gentlemen, the Emperor just promised in the Wenhua Hall—he will recall Hai Gangfeng!” Gu Shouli thought again, then shouted: “When Hai Rui returns, everything will improve!”

“The Emperor does not seek to harm loyal ministers—only these three men, disloyal and unfilial, engaged in factional persecution, and were thus stripped of office and sent home.”

“When Hai Gangfeng returns, the pure stream will remain pure!”

Censor Wang Shiju stood up abruptly, eyes gleaming with excitement: “Really? Hai Gangfeng is returning?”

“Yes! The Emperor said so himself—even Grand Secretary Zhang cannot stop it! Today’s edict will go from the Wenyuan Pavilion to the Ministry of Personnel—you’ll see, I haven’t lied! If you find out you’ve been deceived, will you not gather again at the Chengtian Gate?” Gu Shouli cried, energized.

Finally, a turning point—the conflict had not escalated further; this change came because the Emperor had persuaded the Empress Dowager and Zhang Juzheng to recall Hai Rui.

“This is wonderful, wonderful!” Censor Wang Shiju turned, leaning forward, eyes wide with joy: “Did you all hear that?”

“Hai Gangfeng is returning! By the Emperor’s decree! Hai Gangfeng is returning!”

What is Hai Rui?