Chapter 64: Chapter Sixty-Four: Purely Evil

Li Le nearly became unworthy.

Li Le fully aligned with the Jin Party, betraying Zhang Juzheng’s expectations and the court’s mandate, disloyal to his own convictions, disloyal to the morality he had learned, disloyal to the court’s mission, disloyal to the emperor—in the final firing stage of becoming worthy, he failed to be properly fired.

More simply put, Li Le nearly broke.

But when Li Le secretly went to the Quanchu Huiguan after nightfall, the nature of things changed; in this round of conflict, Zhang Suiwei became a fool who lost both his wife and his soldiers.

Li Le’s memorial compiled firsthand reports from Zhang Jing’s inspections along the frontier; once submitted, his faction would immediately fall into total passivity, and in this round, the Zhang Party, led by Zhang Juzheng, would win a decisive victory.

Empress Dowager Li asked the emperor for his opinion on Li Le’s inspection of the Great Wall’s construction.

Feng Bao sighed deeply; indeed, as he had predicted, the young emperor would eventually grow up. Empress Dowager Li was not Wu Zetian and had no intention of hoarding all power for herself. It was fortunate that Feng Bao chose to obey the emperor.

Zhu Yijun paused, then spoke: “Ice three feet thick does not form in a single day; a mountain of earth does not rise in an instant. The construction of the Xuan-Da Great Wall has deteriorated so badly—it must have taken years of neglect, not the work of a single day. Removing poison is not a matter of one day either. If we are to…”

“Mm, mm, mm, go play.” Empress Dowager Li waved her hand, signaling the young emperor to go till the soil at Jingshan.

As long as the young emperor understands priorities, why bother with grand principles!

Whenever principles were discussed, Empress Dowager Li got a headache. This young emperor, like those scholar-officials, always had reasons—endless, piled-high reasons. Let him argue his reasons with the Grand Secretary. She was merely a woman; if he kept spouting grand principles, he’d confuse everyone.

Those ten acres at Jingshan were the emperor’s treasured possession, his heart’s delight—never to be taken lightly. Not seeing them for a single day felt like losing something vital.

Zhu Yijun arrived at the Baoqi Palace and inwardly sighed: too bad. Xu Zhenming had fully understood and implemented the dual directives from the Grand Secretariat and the Directorate of Ceremonial, ensuring the emperor did not lift a single dirty or heavy task—the fertilization had already been completed before His Majesty even arrived.

The smell of fertilizer was unpleasant, but crops needed it.

Zhu Yijun instructed Feng Bao to seal the holes in the Baoqi Palace. The method: mutual denunciations. All were wall-scaling thieves who knew the palace well. Report one thief, reduce punishment by one grade; report one, gain amnesty; report three or five, avoid corporal punishment entirely—only exile to Qiongzhou.

Everyone on the circuit knew each other.

After spending much time busy at the Baoqi Palace, the young emperor returned to Qianqing Palace. He had a small flowerbed where he grew potatoes and sweet potatoes. He could not participate in fertilizing the Baoqi Palace’s fields, but this small flowerbed, he could still control.

As dusk fell and curfew began, Zhang Suiwei, Wang Chonggu, and Yang Bo gathered in the study of the Quanjin Huiguan. Yang Bo looked unwell, eyes half-closed, resting against his high-backed chair. Li Le had reached the Huyukou Great Wall section; his memorial had already been rushed to the capital.

The three already knew the contents of Li Le’s memorial.

“Li Le is outrageous! He took bribes and did nothing! He hasn’t even paid Hu Ji—this is… freeloading!” Zhang Suiwei was beyond furious.

But he dared not act. Actually punishing Li Le’s family—or even confronting Li Le himself—was an option.

Yet Zhang Juzheng was a gentleman, and that gentleman’s methods were anything but gentle—they were brutal.

“What exactly happened at Huyukou Pass? Are Li Le’s claims true?” Yang Bo asked Zhang Suiwei with a serious face. “The pass was only repaired at the end of last year—why did the Northern Barbarians break through?”

Zhang Suiwei finally spoke: “The Huyukou Pass was never repaired.”

“Scoundrel! How can state affairs be treated so frivolously! Altan Khan dared not advance deep—only looted granaries. If he had intended to invade, wouldn’t that have placed the frontier in grave danger?!” Yang Bo erupted in rage, slamming his fist on the table and rising. He had asked several times before; Zhang Suiwei always said it was fine. Now Li Le’s memorial had arrived.

Zhang Suiwei finally told the truth.

Zhang Suiwei spoke calmly: “The tribute from my uncle included funds for Huyukou Pass. You speak as if I alone embezzled it.”

Yang Bo’s lips twitched. He slowly sat down, exhaling a long, heavy breath. It was just the old Yan affair.

Yang Bo now was Yan Song of old; Zhang Suiwei now was Yan Shifan of old. Just as Yan’s faction once concealed their misdeeds from Yan Song, the Jin Party now conceals its actions from Yang Bo.

The young emperor pointed at the mulberry tree and scolded the mulberry worm—by asking questions, he questioned Yang Bo’s loyalty and integrity. Yang Bo could only say: “Your Majesty’s rebuke is well-merited!”

Yang Bo could not be as shameless as Zhang Suiwei.

“The Baoqi Palace is guarded extremely tightly—hard to strike.” Zhang Suiwei spoke again.

He wanted to hire a rooftop-climbing thief to sneak in and investigate, but he had no way. Feng Bao, though otherwise incompetent, had become extremely difficult to deal with since the assassination attempt—his palace purges were thorough.

Yang Bo stared at Zhang Suiwei, astonished: “The Baoqi Palace is merely a playplace for a ten-year-old emperor! What do you intend to do?!”

Zhang Suiwei raised his right hand, signaling Yang Bo to calm down, and smiled, “What could I possibly do? Just gather information—find out what the emperor is up to. The rumors from inside the palace are hard to verify; we don’t know what’s true or false. Even what General Qi did or said upon returning to the palace, we have no idea.”

“If we lose all intelligence from the palace, won’t we become blind and deaf, left at the mercy of Zhang Juzheng?”

“That Zhang Hong has ambitions—let’s test him.”

Under the emperor’s direction, Feng Bao reformed the Ming court inside and out, achieving striking results: the palace was cleaned up, but not entirely—some minor areas still harbored outsiders from the outer court.

This led to rampant false rumors—even Zhang Suiwei, Wang Chonggu, and Yang Bo could not determine truth from falsehood.

For example, last night, a confirmed rumor spread: the emperor had died!

Zhang Suiwei and Wang Chonggu were terrified. They spent hours calculating whether they could exploit the opportunity—only to find the emperor appearing as usual in the Wenhua Palace the next day.

Information is power; information is the lifeline. Now the Jin Party had lost its channel to palace intelligence and was bound hand and foot.

Zhang Suiwei sent people to investigate the Baoqi Palace to learn what the emperor was doing. But if the thief happened to do something else—set fire, poison the water—that was beyond Zhang Suiwei’s control.

All that was the thief’s doing! What does it have to do with Zhang Suiwei?!

Yang Bo rubbed his forehead, helplessly saying: “What is the emperor doing at the Baoqi Palace? After the monthly examination on the twenty-ninth, he always leads the ministers there—what he does is perfectly clear.”

“I oppose you contacting Zhang Hong. You’re dragging my old face down, stomping on it, grinding it into the dirt—only then will you be satisfied?!”

“Zhang Hong is the emperor’s man. If you want to contact him, will Feng Bao let you? Eunuch factions corrupt the state—but they only circle the palace. Ministerial corruption: those who govern become evil. Minor evil becomes great evil—the root of disaster.”

“Li Le is Bai Gui’s man. If you treat his people this way, will Bai Gui remain silent? What if it sparks a bigger chaos—how will you handle it?”

Zhang Suiwei replied irritably: “The Grand Secretary has already reached into our territory. Are we to do nothing? Doesn’t that make us look weak?”

Yang Bo looked at Zhang Suiwei and said firmly: “Do you know why Bai Gui hasn’t struck us down?”

Zhang Suiwei smirked: “He can’t. All his talk of benevolence and morality, claiming to care for the realm—what else is it but inability? He’s just saving face. If he could, he’d have crushed us long ago.”

Yang Bo was stunned, then shook his head and smiled: “That’s your assumption.”

“Bai Gui doesn’t strike us down not because he can’t, but because he doesn’t want the palace to think he’s establishing a monopoly. If the court and the palace were all his men, the Empress Dowager would grow fearful. So he keeps us around—to maintain a surface balance.”

“Can you understand? You won’t understand—how could you?”

Zhang Suiwei waved his hands: “No, no, no! To achieve extraordinary statecraft, one must perform extraordinary deeds! The Grand Secretary has talent and virtue—the world acknowledges it—but his actions are incomplete. He acts, yet doesn’t finish. Isn’t that the same as doing nothing? He’s untouchable now—but what when he’s dead?”

“Hey, he should have wiped us all out at once—not left a root! Then he’ll surely regret it!”

Yang Bo looked at Zhang Suiwei, then at Wang Chonggu, and finally sighed: “A gentleman can be deceived by righteousness. Is it more laughable that Bai Gui seeks extraordinary achievement—or that we villains scheme?”

Zhang Suiwei shrugged indifferently: “Laughable? Let them laugh. The Grand Secretary gains nothing; we gain everything. Merely a few empty reputations.”

Zhang Suiwei never believed he was wrong. Zhang Juzheng wanted to be a gentleman—but in the end, he gains neither fame nor achievement. Why seek extraordinary achievement? Better to seek wealth that endures for ten thousand generations.

“Enough. Go. Be cautious. Wait until I’m gone—then you can stir up trouble.” Yang Bo finally gave up. He waved his hand, signaling the gatekeeper to show them out.

Zhang Suiwei had a point—but would the young emperor in the palace really let Zhang Suiwei manipulate him?

May is the willow that cannot be broken; across the land, willow branches unfurled their yellow-green tender leaves, gently swaying in the spring breeze.

May is the swallow that returns; beneath painted beams and carved rafters, swallows darted nimbly, building nests, chirping joyfully in the gentle spring light.

In the Wenhua Palace of May, solemnity still reigned. After three rings of the ceremonial whip, the ministers slowly entered.

“We pay our respects to His Majesty. May Your Majesty’s health be well?” the ministers bowed respectfully.

Zhu Yijun waved his hand: “I am well. Rise, my ministers. Begin the court deliberation.”

Zhu Yijun was eager to see the ministers fight! Every day he came to the Wenhua Palace to hear governance—wasn’t it all for their bickering?

“Thank Your Majesty.” The twenty-seven ministers rose and sat, opening their memorials, ready for the day’s deliberation.

“Right Assistant Censor Zhang Chucheng petitions that the title granted to the daughter of Viceroy and Minister Wang Chonggu should not use golden characters, and requests its revocation and destruction,” Zhang Juzheng began. He did not immediately launch his main attack with Li Le’s memorial, but raised another matter first.