Chapter 47: Chapter Forty-Seven: Officials

In the twenty-eighth year of Jiajing, Zhang Juzheng, as a Hanlin Academy probationary scholar, submitted a memorial titled “On Current Governance,” identifying five grave ailments afflicting the Great Ming: bloatedness, paralysis, decay, corruption, and neglect. At the time, the chief grand secretary was Yan Song, who dismissed the memorial as mere righteous indignation.

In the thirty-third year of Jiajing, Zhang Juzheng requested sick leave and returned home, avoiding the toxic chaos of the court, his spirit worn down; this return to his hometown lasted three years.

During those three years, Zhang Juzheng immersed himself in mountains and rivers, traveling widely, walking ten thousand li, reading ten thousand scrolls, living with great ease. Yet amid his travels, he observed the full spectrum of human life, gaining profound and earnest insight into the Ming’s problems, and discerning them with clarity and precision.

He said: First, the imperial clans multiplied, their numbers swollen, their power twisted, their authority obstructing justice, the law rendered invisible and unenforceable; second, land taxes became unequal, the poor lost their livelihoods, suffering under land consolidation; third, displaced populations mixed with locals, deceit and cunning flourished, customs corrupted by luxury and sloth.

The world had changed.

First change: The imperial clans multiplied, their numbers vast, their corrupt power obstructing justice, the law gradually rendered invisible and unenforceable.

Second change: Powerful landowners and wealthy elites found endless ways to evade land taxes; the poor bore the burden, went bankrupt, sold their land to survive, stripped of their livelihoods, tormented beyond endurance by land consolidation.

Third change: Displaced people and commoners lived side by side; deceit, fraud, and sophistry spread, customs eroded by extravagance and decay.

Morals declined, rites and music collapsed, the realm teetered on the brink.

After returning to court in the thirty-sixth year of Jiajing, Zhang Juzheng changed—he became petty, vengeful, and repellent.

Qi Jiguang was his disciple; when someone dared to insult him, Zhang Juzheng would not endure it. Since Wang Chonggu could not rein in the Beijing garrison troops, who had defied their superiors and confronted Qi Jiguang, Qi might tolerate it—but Zhang Juzheng would not.

“Will this cause trouble for Marshal Qi?” You Qi, knowing his master was furious, did not act immediately but waited a moment before cautiously asking.

Zhang Juzheng shook his head. “Marshal Qi is a military commander—he cannot retaliate. But if I, his mentor, say nothing while he is humiliated, who will ever serve loyally again? I receive two thousand taels of silver from him annually. If I do not defend him, what good are those two thousand taels?”

“Go.”

You Qi was a trusted confidant; he worried whether Qi Jiguang might suffer consequences. But upon reflection, he realized: the court’s dogs viewed Marshal Qi, who had fought campaigns north and south, as useless and expendable. If they sensed weakness, these ministers and censors would dare mount his head and tyrannize him!

Fight.

You Qi departed, and within moments, a memorial was sent through the Tongzheng Office to the Wenyuan Pavilion.

The next morning, Zhang Juzheng presided over the court assembly. His first act was to impeach Wang Chonggu for failing to control the Beijing garrison, where junior officers—battalion commanders and platoon leaders—had defied their superiors and openly insulted Qi Jiguang.

Wang Chonggu had no idea what had happened until the censor from the Ministry of War leveled the accusation.

⊙￠o

“Tsk, tsk, tsk—Marshal Wang’s ‘welcome’ was truly fearsome! Hey, Marshal Qi returns victorious from battle, seeking his reward, only to be trampled by a battalion commander! Marshal Wang’s ‘welcome’ makes it clear to Marshal Qi: who owns this capital? Whose sky governs this city? Marshal Wang, what a masterstroke!” Feng Bao’s duty was to bite—he immediately framed the incident as Wang Chonggu’s deliberate provocation, intended to humiliate Qi Jiguang.

“Sharp-tongued!” Wang Chonggu slammed his hand on the table, furious. “Feng Bao! Don’t slander me! I only learned of this now. I will personally send several soldiers to the guesthouse to apologize to Marshal Qi!”

“Feng Bao, I am not as base as you imagine.”

Feng Bao sat calmly. “Who can say? Defying superiors merits a hundred strokes. Is an apology enough? If apologies worked, why have military law? You shield the rabble, Marshal Wang.”

Wang Chonggu nearly fainted. He had already been at a disadvantage—his lax discipline. But Feng Bao twisted it into an accusation that he was deliberately showing Qi Jiguang who ruled the capital—who owned the sky above the capital! Was it not the Emperor alone?

Feng Bao’s words struck at the very heart.

Yang Bo, seeing Wang Chonggu flustered, quickly spoke: “Marshal Wang, handle this impartially. If Brother Feng is unsatisfied, let the Eastern or Western Depot handle it.”

The word “false accusation” only made it worse. The more Wang Chonggu defended himself, the more he appeared to be deliberately humiliating Qi Jiguang, shielding his subordinates.

Feng Bao, in three sentences, pinned two grave crimes on Yang Bo as smoothly as if he were bowing.

Zhu Yijun understood: the Beijing garrison had decayed to this extent. How foolish must Wang Chonggu be to order such a pointless, disgraceful act—something that brought him no benefit, only humiliation? Was he not inviting a slap to his own face?

Even if Qi Jiguang said nothing, his personal guards told You Qi—and Zhang Juzheng, once informed, would never let it go.

“Hmph!” Wang Chonggu swept his sleeve aside, finally suppressing his rage. Feng Bao’s talent for provocation was such that even speaking two words to him could leave one half-dead with fury.

“You find my words unpleasant? Then don’t commit errors!” Feng Bao added one final remark before ceasing his assault on Wang Chonggu.

Zhang Juzheng narrowed his eyes at Wang Chonggu. “The soldiers fight and die on the frontlines, defending the Great Ming, safeguarding the peace of the capital, and protecting the dignity of us, your ministers.”

“If Marshal Wang cannot oversee the Beijing garrison, let Tan Lun take his place. It is not unusual for the Minister of War to also command the garrison.”

Zhang Juzheng’s words were not merely reprimand—they were a warning. Soldiers bled on the battlefield, returned to receive their due, yet faced harassment from petty men. These men, hardened by war, reeked of blood and steel. Had Qi Jiguang not been forbearing, a massacre might have erupted on the spot.

Feng Bao smeared filth; Zhang Juzheng’s words carried far greater weight.

“Your Excellency, do not worry.” Wang Chonggu took a deep breath, forcing down his fury. He would return and reorganize the troops. These men lived only to cheat and shirk—humiliating their own ranks was bad enough, but now they had disgraced the court before the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

The main agenda of the court assembly was the arrangement of details for opening the Hall of Supreme Harmony and the ceremonial protocol.

“I shall clarify for His Majesty.” Zhang Juzheng stood rigid, awaiting the Emperor’s inquiry. He did not know how to explain today’s events to the Emperor.

The lecture began. Zhu Yijun and Zhang Juzheng engaged in question and answer.

Zhang Juzheng spoke: “The Analects, ‘Wei Zheng,’ says: Meng Wu Bo asked about filial piety. The Master replied: ‘Parents worry only for their child’s illness.’”

“Meng Wu Bo was the son of Meng Yi Zi, named Zhi, posthumously honored as Wu, the fifth-generation ancestor of Mencius. ‘Wei’ means ‘only.’”

“Meng Wu Bo asked the Master what filial piety meant. The Master said: Parents care only for their child’s health and illness—not for anything else. That is filial piety.”

“How do you interpret this?” Zhu Yijun asked Zhang Juzheng.

Zhang Juzheng considered, then replied: “Parents love their children deeply, and worry for them profoundly.”

“Parents’ love for their children is all-encompassing. Children who understand this deep love and care, and in daily life act with caution to avoid wrongdoing, are filial.”

“Children who are careful, uphold their conduct, and ensure their parents worry only for their health and illness—this is filial piety.”

“Children who practice filial piety need only worry for their parents’ illness; they need not overburden themselves with other concerns. A son does not speak of his father’s faults, nor do father and son demand moral perfection from each other—this too is filial piety.”

Zhu Yijun nodded. “Your Excellency, your wisdom is great. You explained filial piety excellently—but it seems, Your Excellency, you have withheld something.”

Zhang Juzheng’s interpretation of filial piety was indeed restrained—he explained only the meaning of obedience, without extending it.

Zhang Juzheng knew what the young Emperor was asking. After a pause, he said: “Meng Wu Bo was born into wealth and raised in ease—he was prone to arrogance, luxury, and excess. Thus, the Master used Meng Wu Bo’s question to warn him: do not cause your parents to worry.”

“Your Majesty, as Son of Heaven, you are the master of heaven, earth, gods, and men! You must regulate your daily habits, moderate your diet, avoid lust and conflict, remain vigilant so as not to fall ill, cultivate longevity, and extend the dynasty’s fortune.”

“Vigilant so as not to fall ill”—Zhang Juzheng had explained this before as the way of health preservation.

“Irregular daily habits” means aligning one’s routine with seasonal rhythms: do not go bare-chested in winter, do not wear thin clothes in spring, do not overheat in summer, do not overdress in autumn—“cover in spring, chill in autumn”—this is regulating daily habits.

“Irregular diet” means avoiding gluttony, overindulgence, and indiscriminate eating—do not stuff your belly with raw or cold food. Your body suffers; eat properly—this is moderating diet.

“Youth must not indulge in lust; adulthood must not indulge in conflict.” Youth, lacking self-control, exhausts their body—by old age, they can only drool at beauties. Adulthood, still ruled by temper, engages in fights, risking injury, disability, or death—this is avoiding lust and conflict.

Thus, one cultivates longevity and extends the dynasty’s fortune.

Zhu Yijun watched Zhang Juzheng’s evasive manner and smiled.

Zhang Juzheng’s explanation was perfectly reasonable: regulate daily habits, moderate diet, avoid lust and conflict—this reduces illness, so parents need not even worry about their child’s health—this is filial piety. His logic was clear and rigorous.

But Zhang Juzheng clearly understood what the Emperor was asking—and refused to answer, avoided the topic entirely, persistently shifting focus. Clearly, he sensed a deep pit ahead, a slippery slope he dare not touch.

Zhu Yijun grew tired of veiled allusions. He lifted the lid directly: “Filial piety means obedience. I have heard: the Son of Heaven is the father of the realm.”

Zhu Yijun was asking about seniority and hierarchy, about distinction of rank, about the junior officer’s defiance of Qi Jiguang.

Filial piety is obedience—and it is also the fundamental social order under Confucianism: officials and commoners each receive their proper place, thus demonstrating to future generations the order of seniority and rank.

Filial piety is obedience—and it is also order.

Zhang Juzheng sighed helplessly. No matter how often he evaded, he could not escape the topic.