Chapter 812

"Ah, Papa accidentally used too much force." Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled. "Feng Feng Banban, get some more."

"Aren't you angry, Papa?" Zhu Zhu Changzhi asked cautiously.

Zhu Zhu Yijun paused, puzzled. "Huh? Why would you ask that?"

Zhu Zhu Changzhi glanced around, then whispered: "They all say serving a ruler is like serving a tiger—you must be careful in everything, even the exact distance between your steps. Everything the Emperor uses must be placed within arm's reach."

"I overheard the palace maids and lecture scholars say Papa is a great tiger!"

"Nonsense." Zhu Zhu Yijun scoffed, straightening up. "Papa isn't that terrifying. Don't listen to their nonsense. If you make a mistake by accident, I won't punish the servants."

"If anyone's to be troubled, it's the scholar-officials in court—not these servants. To trouble servants—what kind of skill is that?"

Zhu Zhu Changzhi clenched his fists. "Exactly! Troubling servants isn't skill at all—it's those scholar-officials who are the real tigers!"

In Zhu Zhu Changzhi's world, it was the lecture scholars, always scowling and reciting texts like sutras, who were terrifying. His own father was not scary at all.

While waiting for Feng Bao to bring new mortise-and-tenon joints, Zhu Zhu Yijun said: "Master Zhang once told us a story. Today I'll tell it to you."

"During the Northern Song, one late night, Emperor Renzong finished state affairs and grew thirsty. He wanted to order a servant for water, but saw the attendants asleep in the outer hall, so he held his thirst and did not call out."

"The next day, the Empress asked why he hadn't summoned someone. Renzong replied: If I called, someone would be punished for neglect. To punish someone over a cup of water—I could not bear it."

There were five such stories: enduring thirst without asking for water, silently ignoring undercooked food, suppressing thirst while strolling without complaint, the Imperial Kitchen preparing twenty-eight fresh crabs, and "the salaries of these men all come from the people's strength" (frugality, no lavish palace construction, no waste).

These small tales came from the *Illustrated Record of Imperial Virtue*. Emperor Renzong was truly benevolent and highly skilled—but alas, he had no son. No son meant no foundation for the state. All his policies lacked successors; no one carried them through to the end.

"Was Emperor Renzong a good emperor?" Zhu Zhu Changzhi asked curiously.

Zhu Zhu Yijun thought a moment. "Emperor Renzong was unquestionably a good man—but a good man cannot be a good emperor."

"Why not?" Zhu Zhu Changzhi asked, confused.

"Because the court officials are all tigers. A good man gets eaten by tigers. So you must be a bad man—a strong, powerful bad man. Otherwise, how will these tigers obey?"

Zhu Zhu Yijun rubbed Zhu Zhu Changzhi's topknot and smiled. "Master Zhang once taught me: Left hand for rewards, right hand for punishment. Lose one, and you cannot govern. You cannot control your subordinates."

Belief in reward and punishment was the core governance principle Master Zhang repeatedly emphasized during his lectures.

"I understand." Zhu Zhu Changzhi didn't fully grasp it, but it felt like those Natural Philosophy scholars: praise him when he did right, reprimand him when he did wrong.

But Zhu Zhu Changzhi didn't know this wasn't normal. The lecture scholars dared not punish; their reprimands were mostly gentle advice. This was the Crown Prince—who dared to offend him deeply? When he ascended the throne, he'd hold a grudge, and that wasn't a joke.

Zhu Zhu Yijun didn't intend to force Zhu Zhu Changzhi to become like himself.

He had no choice. Wang Wang Jinglong had come to Qianqing Palace with two knives—one long, one short—ready to kill. Every aspect of the state had decayed to the point where survival required risking one's life. Zhu Zhu Yijun had come to be emperor—he was pushed onto the throne, whether he liked it or not.

He had more than once staked his life on Zhang Zhang Juzheng and Qi Qi Jiguang to secure the state's basic stability.

Zhu Zhu Changzhi was born noble. If pushed too hard, he might end up sitting at the same table as Li Li Chenggan.

But fortunately, Zhu Zhu Changzhi's growth, though imperfect, wouldn't fall short of Zhu Zhu Yilou's. Wang Yao was no gentle mother—she demanded even more than Zhu Zhu Yijun. At least Zhu Zhu Changzhi wouldn't grow up like Ming Yingzong Zhu Zhu Qiyu, becoming a helpless student of the Oirats.

The Emperor's edict reached the Grand Secretariat. The Zhang Wenyuan Pavilion, rebuilt during the central axis construction of the palace, had been renovated.

The new Zhang Wenyuan Pavilion had thicker walls, better insulation, and became a heated chamber. Hot water circulating through copper pipes made the entire building warm.

Wooden structures had many flaws: poor insulation, freezing in winter, sweltering in summer. No matter how many stoves you lit, you shivered while handling documents in winter and baked in summer. They were prone to fire—critical for storing documents, where fire meant the loss of all truths. They were vulnerable to dampness and insects, and attracted rats. Documents from years ago were often gnawed beyond recognition.

Wooden buildings have many drawbacks: poor insulation, cold in winter and scorching in summer; no matter how many stoves you light, you still shiver while handling official documents in winter, and in summer the heat is unbearable; they are prone to fire, and as storage for documents, once a fire breaks out, all truths will be swallowed by flames; they are easily damp and damaged by insects, and often attract rats—documents from several years ago being gnawed beyond recognition is all too common.

"Zhang Yuanfu, when Gao Zhu Qiyu goes to Japan again, you must stop ignoring him. People make mistakes. Zhou Zhou Liangyin was once a lowly Confucian." Wang Wang Chonggu finished his floating endorsement and approved the Emperor's edict.

Gao Zhu Qiyu was an excellent choice—his ability was unquestionable. Without Zhang Zhang Juzheng suppressing him, Gao Zhu Qiyu could have contested Shen Li for the post of Minister of Rites.

"State affairs admit no personal feelings. If he performs well, he will be promoted. I won't deliberately hinder him." Zhang Zhang Juzheng also added his floating endorsement, approving the candidate.

Wang Wang Chonggu sighed. "That's right. Let the past be past. Prejudices in people's hearts can sometimes be a great mountain."

Wang Wang Chonggu was willing to speak well of Gao Zhu Qiyu because he felt the same. If it came to causing trouble, he'd nearly pierced the sky himself—and yet he was still Deputy Grand Secretary. The Emperor, in appointing talent, did better than Zhang Zhang Juzheng demanded.

Shen Li frowned slightly. "The Director of the Bureau of Foreign Affairs is a fourth-rank capital official. Sending a fourth-rank official to Japan—isn't that giving Japan too much honor? According to the *Regulations for Foreign States*, Japan only needs a seventh-rank Censor or Attendant."

Shen Li meant: a tiny island nation, a petty realm—does it deserve a fourth-rank Ming official?

"This matter is of great importance. Japan's silver, gold, copper, and iron mines—all are needed by the Ming." Wang Wang Guoguang stated his position, supporting the Emperor's choice. Gao Zhu Qiyu's high rank allows him to fully represent the Ming in negotiations. Sending such a high official means we must demand more, not less.

Shen Li pondered, then nodded. "I have no objections."

The Grand Secretaries unanimously approved. This edict would be accepted by the Six Boards even if they objected—though they held the power to return edicts, without the Grand Secretaries' cooperation, they could not block them.

"Isn't the Emperor too lenient? Why tolerate Zhao Zhao Nanxing and his kind, who chatter and stir up trouble?" Wang Wang Chonggu brought up the recent capital buzz. These obsolete, lowly Confucians still lived.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng sighed. "I've advised tightening control over public opinion many times. The Emperor refused. What can I do? He says: The Ming is vast. A few lowly Confucians barking won't hurt. If not this dog, then that one."

"The Emperor called them…" Zhang Zhang Juzheng hesitated, feeling it might tarnish the Emperor's dignity, and left the phrase unfinished.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng said with a hint of resignation: "I have urged tightening control over public opinion more than once, but His Majesty refused—what can I do? He said: The Great Ming is vast enough to tolerate a few base scholars barking like dogs; if not this dog, then that one."

"The Tomb Sect." Zhang Zhang Juzheng paused, then spoke. The Emperor's critique was piercing.

"Hahaha!" Laughter filled the Zhang Wenyuan Pavilion. "Tomb Sect" described a mental state—not age, but mindset.

Many Hanlin scholars were young, yet their thinking was rotten, refusing any new ideas. Their worldview was like a frog in a well—limited to the sky they saw from the bottom.

They were less open to new cultural shocks than these old men.

The Tomb Sect might have young bodies, but their souls were buried deep in the earth. They lived like the tattered robes of ancient Confucians, wrapping decay in long banners. Their spirits were dead, yet they struggled to cling to the vibrancy and color of the living world—even new brocade robes couldn't hide the stench of rot.

They lived in humility yet claimed to establish the heart of heaven and earth; they were confused themselves yet insisted on opening peace for ten thousand generations. At the sight of new ideas, they trembled as if witnessing a celestial dog devouring the moon; at vernacular texts, they denounced them as seditious proclamations; at new inventions, they cried out that rites and music had collapsed.

They boasted themselves as mad poets who sang in grief, claiming all others were drunk while they alone were sober—yet utterly blind to how the world had changed.

Their only fate: to be sacrificed in the great tide of Emperor Wanli's reforms, worthless. Their self-satisfied views would be washed away by history's tides, ending as muck stuck to the soles of shoes.

If criticism is not allowed, praise has no meaning. The Emperor allows them to live. The Ming is vast, its people numerous. The existence of Zhao Zhao Nanxing and these Tomb Sectarians reminds the Emperor: the Ming is good—but not yet good enough.

The Grand Secretaries did not discuss another candidate: Oda Nobunaga's sister, Oda Ichi. Sometimes, eunuchs were better at manipulation.

Oda Ichi was both a threat and the best candidate to persuade Oda Nobunaga to surrender.

"Hou Hou Yuzhao will assume office in Zhejiang next year. His final gift to Liaodong: the Agricultural Reclamation Bureau." Wang Wang Guoguang pulled out a memorial and circulated it among the Grand Secretaries. Hou Hou Yuzhao's Agricultural Reclamation Bureau was a gift, a present—the final solution to Liaodong's problems.

Wang Wang Chonggu read it and said sincerely: "The Agricultural Reclamation Bureau isn't just farming. It's driving a nail, fitting a horseshoe. Only when this nail is driven deep and this horseshoe properly fitted will the Ming's heartland truly connect with Liaodong, becoming its true core."

"A great virtue. With this single policy, Hou Hou Yuzhao deserves to return to court as a Ming Gong. Too bad—he's too upright, unsuited for court intrigues."

Wang Wang Chonggu called it a nail and horseshoe because Liaodong's unrest prevented the Ming from fully opening the seas, forcing constant vigilance against Liaodong's militarization and its threat to the heartland.

"Hou Hou Yuzhao will assume office in Zhejiang next year; his final gift to Liaodong is the Nongken Bureau." Wang Wang Guoguang pulled out a memorial and circulated it among the other Grand Secretaries—Hou Hou Yuzhao's planned Nongken Bureau was a gift, a solution, the ultimate answer to Liaodong's problems.

Only when Liaodong is fully stabilized will the Ming eliminate the only land-based threat to its power center—and then boldly sail overseas to compete with the Westerners.

If the Western barbarian states can become an empire that never sets, so can the Ming.

"With the Emperor protecting him, I see no problem. Even if he defies the Emperor, the Emperor won't punish him." Zhang Zhang Juzheng finished reading the memorial and declared firmly: "This isn't a gift to Liaodong—it's a gift to the Ming. It's a blessing to the state."

Hou Hou Yuzhao, a scholar-official in early Emperor Wanli who often clashed with others, neither of Zhang's nor Jin's faction, had gone to the northern frontier to reclaim wasteland, then to Liaodong to farm. Fourteen years of hardship were his path—and the final establishment of the Agricultural Reclamation Bureau was his reward.

Wang Wang Guoguang thought a moment. "I agree. The Ministry of Revenue's affairs can be entrusted to him. The Ministry's most important task is farming. Eating is more vital than silver."

Zhang Zhang Xueyan was Minister of Revenue. Wang Wang Guoguang was growing old, his energy insufficient to continue serving the Emperor and the state. If he clung to his post, he and Zhang Zhang Xueyan would become enemies instead of close friends.

Wan Wan Shihe chose Shen Li; Wang Wang Guoguang chose Zhang Zhang Xueyan; Wang Wang Chonggu chose Wang Wang Jiaoping; Zhang Zhang Juzheng chose Shen Shen Shixing. The four Grand Secretaries of the Emperor Wanli Reforms were slowly stepping away from the crest of the reform wave. Time aged them. The Emperor Wanli Reforms had already lasted fifteen years—and they were nearing their end.

Hou Hou Yuzhao, a scholar-official in the early Emperor Wanli era who often defied convention and stood apart—neither of Zhang's faction nor of the Jin faction—went to the Beixing Capital Commandery's Danning Garrison to reclaim wasteland, then to Liaodong to cultivate fields, serving as Provincial Governor of Liaodong; fourteen years of toil were his path forward, and the final establishment of the Nongken Bureau was the fruit of his labor.

Official documents from the Northern Office to Liaodong had a five-day deadline. In reality, Hou Hou Yuzhao's transfer order reached Liaodong in three days—the remaining two were buffer. Iron horses could run nonstop with coal, but exhausted relay stations took half a month to reach Liaodong.

"No! Absolutely not! The court only talks about court matters. Lao Zhao, you can't leave. If you go, what am I doing alone in Liaodong?! If the court sends another Liaodong Provincial Governor, I won't get along with him—and those lowly Confucians in court will eat me alive! If you go, I go too!"

"Yes! I'm going with you!" Li Li Chengliang, upon seeing the court's order, decided to return to the capital for the New Year.

This barbaric land—let whoever wants it stay! This northwestern wind—let whoever wants it drink it! He was leaving!

He would take his entire family—six concubines, eight sons, three daughters—to the capital to enjoy comfort.

"That fourth son—you stay behind. When Wang Wang Rulong returns from Korea, hand over command to him. We're going back to the capital. This place—when winter comes, the northwestern wind howls like a funeral dirge. In blizzard weather, you can't tell east from west, up from down! And yet those scholar-officials in the capital think I'm a local emperor, a mountain king here!"

"Let them suffer this!" Li Li Chengliang was fiery-tempered. He came to Liaodong to support the Korean campaign. When Ming forces struggled, Liaodong troops held back Japanese incursions, preventing war from reaching Ming territory.

With the Korean campaign proceeding smoothly and the Japanese driven into the sea, Li Li Chengliang's mission was complete. His desire to indulge in Jiangnan's pleasures stirred again.

In Emperor Wanli Thirteen, he'd accompanied the Emperor to Jiangnan. He swore he'd die in Jiangnan's tender embrace.

Only after going to Jiangnan did he realize how harsh Liaodong was.

Li Li Chengliang's "fourth son" was Li Li Ruzhang—brave and capable, though ordinary compared to Li Li Rusong's genius. Li Li Chengliang had eight sons; only these two were somewhat accomplished. The rest were ordinary.

"How can you act so impulsively? Without a court order, leaving like this is desertion!" Hou Hou Yuzhao was exasperated with this living demon. The position of Regional Commander of Liaodong was too vital. Could Li Li Chengliang just walk away like this? Wasn't this madness? He always pushed trouble to the brink of disaster!

"Father, deserting your post gives those gossiping lowly Confucians grounds to impeach you! You're handing them weapons!" Li Li Ruzhang was also anxious. He could hold the line without his father—Outer Khalkha's seven tribes, Wild Jurchens, and Haixi Jurchens all respected him.

Li Li Ruzhang's abilities were modest, but his father was Li Li Chengliang, his brother Li Li Rusong. With that lineage, even the Emperor gave him some leeway—let alone these barbarian chieftains.

As long as Li Li Ruzhang didn't act recklessly—like charging out alone to fight a crowd—none of these barbarian chieftains would dare to insult him.

Li Li Chengliang spoke solemnly: "Lao Zhao, when you enter court, remember: cling tightly to the Emperor's leg. Don't let go for a moment. Whatever he says, do it. Before doing anything, ask him first. Understood?"

"You're so naive. Others will sell you, and you'll help count the money."

"What do you mean?" Hou Hou Yuzhao frowned, puzzled.

"Let's make a bet. If I walk away like this, deserting my post, the Emperor won't punish me—he'll reward me. Those long-tongued censors won't say a word. Maybe they'll even submit memorials praising me, saying I understand the bigger picture." Li Li Chengliang smiled, ordering his sons to pack their bags and return to the capital for comfort.

Hou Hou Yuzhao thought a moment, then understood. The Korean campaign was over. Now it was the war to exterminate the Japanese. The court had only summoned Hou Hou Yuzhao—not forgotten Li Li Chengliang. It was a test.

Li Li Chengliang wasn't a fool in the snow—he was as cunning as an old fox. His nature was known to every official.

Li Li Chengliang's voluntary departure preserved everyone's dignity—Liaodong's provincialization could proceed.

If Li Li Chengliang pretended ignorance, and Hou Hou Yuzhao—the only provincial governor who got along with him—left, yet Li Li Chengliang refused to petition for transfer, then he likely harbored disloyal intentions. Not necessarily secession—but certainly holding troops for personal power, becoming a mountain king.

Li Li Chengliang spoke with solemn gravity: "Old Zhao, when you enter the court, remember this: cling tightly to His Majesty's leg—hold on tight, never let go. Whatever He orders you to do, do it. Before doing anything, always ask His Majesty first. Understood?"

"You're so naive—someone will sell you out, and you'll still count the money for them."

"What do you mean?" Hou Hou Yuzhao frowned, puzzled.

"Let's make a bet: if I just walk away, abandoning my post without permission, His Majesty won't punish me—he'll reward me handsomely. The court's gossipy censors won't utter a single word. Maybe each of them will even submit a memorial praising old Li for understanding the bigger picture." Li Li Chengliang smiled, ordering his sons to pack their bags and return to the capital to enjoy their fortune!

After a moment's thought, Hou Hou Yuzhao gradually understood: the war in Korea had ended completely; now it was the war against the Japanese. The court had mobilized only him, Hou Hou Yuzhao—not because they'd forgotten Li Li Chengliang, but because they were testing him.

Li Li Chengliang wasn't some fool deer lost in the snow—he was as cunning as an old fox. His nature was known to every official in the court.

By choosing to leave voluntarily, Li Li Chengliang preserved everyone's dignity, allowing the establishment of a province in Liaodong to proceed.

Li Li Chengliang pretended not to understand. With Hou Hou Yuzhao, the only Provincial Governor who got along with him, gone, if Li Li Chengliang refused to submit a memorial requesting transfer, it would surely suggest disloyal intentions—not necessarily to secede, but certainly to hold onto his troops and become a mountain lord.

The court must prepare early; while Qi Qi Jiguang is still here, we must eliminate all dangerous elements completely.

Li Li Rusong is Deputy Commander of the Capital Garrison, and Li Li Chengliang is Regional Commander of Liaodong; as long as Qi Qi Jiguang remains, it's tolerable, but if Qi Qi Jiguang leaves, with father and son simultaneously commanding elite troops of both the Capital Garrison and frontier forces, it is far too dangerous.

"Why is human nature so complicated? I'd rather go back to farming in Liaodong." Hou Hou Yuzhao sighed; if only everything were as simple as farming.

Li Li Chengliang patted

Hou Hou Yuzhao's shoulder and said, "Old Zhao, only you think human nature is complicated—others find farming hard. His Majesty exiled all those scholar-officials in the court to Liaodong to reclaim land, and what happened? They couldn't till a single acre, so I ended up making them teachers at the Liaodong Academy."

"I'm Hou!" Hou Hou Yuzhao weakly corrected him, but it was pointless—Li Li Chengliang would never change.

Li Li Chengliang insisted on calling him "Old Zhao" because of the saying, "Yan and Zhao produce many generous and tragic heroes," and since Hou Hou Yuzhao's surname was Zhao, he just went with it.

Hou Hou Yuzhao was precisely that kind of generous and tragic hero—living amid the great tide of Emperor Wanli's reforms; had the world been dark, men like him would never have risen.

Those scholar-officials who carry the world in their hearts, possess real ability, and persist without yielding—true loyal ministers and upright administrators—are indeed the pillars of the state, but the world is always like this: the state's pillars are not necessarily given due weight.

"By the way, when you leave, bring His Majesty some New Year gifts—take a few of the fat-headed fish I caught in Chagan Lake."

Chagan Lake is called Chagan Pao, meaning "white big bubble"; every winter it freezes over, and ice-fishing becomes the only source of food for nearby tribes.

When Chagan Pao still belonged to the Liao, the Liao emperors annually visited to hunt and fish; during the Jin, they established the Head Fish Banquet and Head Goose Banquet.

This place is ideal for aquaculture: after fry grow to a fist's length, they're released into large ponds, maturing in four years into enormous fish—one acre can hold fifty, and the fat-headed fish is a local specialty, exceptionally delicious.

Li Li Chengliang planned to make the fat-headed fish a tribute item and build a local industry around it.

After winter fishing, the fish are packed directly into wooden crates with ice; they can be sold anywhere in the north where it freezes.

Since everyone calls him the "Lord of Liaodong," he must contribute something to Liaodong; Chagan Lake's natural endowments are excellent—if this industry thrives, it will greatly aid Liaodong's reclamation and leave a lasting legacy for the establishment of the Liaodong Agricultural Reclamation Bureau.

As long as Qi Qi Jiguang doesn't suffer defeats on the frontlines, Li Li Chengliang will never return to Liaodong in his lifetime.

"Let's go." As Li Li Chengliang boarded his carriage at Liaoyang Station, he waved at the vast snowy expanse, leaving behind his ancestral homeland—this departure, he did not know when he might return.

The scholar-officials of the capital held prejudices against Li Li Chengliang, seeing him as nothing but a bandit, convinced he would become a warlord of Liaodong, a new An Lushan of the Great Ming, destined one day to rebel and become the empire's gravest threat.

When Li Li Chengliang departed Liaodong for the capital, bringing all his family with him, the censorial officials in the capital were utterly astonished.

Before Li Li Chengliang even reached the capital, a flood of memorials, like snowflakes in December,

drifted into Tonghemen.

Some censors claimed Li Li Chengliang had turned back from the brink, others said he returned out of awe for the Emperor's brilliance and the Capital Garrison's victory, still others declared him a loyal and capable general who deserved lavish rewards to uphold the ideal of a sage ruler and virtuous minister—every opinion was offered, yet none accused him of abandoning his post.

Between Liaodong's militarization and Li Li Chengliang's alleged desertion, the censors preferred he voluntarily leave Liaodong; as long as he remained, the court could never fully sinicize Liaodong by establishing provinces, prefectures, and counties under direct administration.

Li Li Chengliang was the authority in Liaodong—his nod made Liaodong Military Commission effective; the court's own offices were mere formalities.

"Clean and arrange the Marquis Ningyuan Marquis's mansion inside and out. The Marquis Ningyuan Marquis loves the soft embrace of beauty—grant him twelve women from the ten thousand nations. The barbarian envoys send so many beauties every year; they've all gone to Prince Lu. The Empress Dowager is displeased—so give some to the Marquis Ningyuan Marquis. Remember to include two Persian women." Zhu Zhu Yijun decided to lavish rewards.

"Oh, by the way, Minister Hou has also returned from Liaodong—let him stay in the capital for the New Year. If he wants, grant him a few of the ten thousand nation beauties too." Zhu Zhu Yijun added extra instructions; if the ten thousand nation beauties weren't given to Prince Lu's mansion in a given year, they were usually arranged for marriage with soldiers or artisans of the Capital Garrison, never kept in the palace for the New Year.

The practice of distributing brides had been ongoing since the large-scale influx of Japanese women into the Ming in the ninth year of Emperor Wanli (Chapter 541).

This time Li Li Chengliang did not disembark at Jizhou, report to court, and wait for the Capital Garrison to come and take over his command and escort him to the capital—he rode directly to Zhaoyangmen Station before stepping down.

He had ridden all day; his legs were numb. As he stood up and looked out the window, he felt bewildered: in Emperor Wanli thirteenth year, Zhaoyangmen's city wall was being torn down; by the end of Emperor Wanli fifteenth year, Zhaoyangmen Station was fully built, twelve express roads winding into the distance, and on the platform stood the crowd come to greet him.

Li Li Chengliang recognized Feng Bao—the eunuch close to the Emperor, whom everyone called the Middle Noble.

"Old Zhao, you think—is the Middle Noble here to drag me to the Imperial Prison, or to bestow a decree upon me?" Li Li Chengliang laughed, asking Hou Hou Yuzhao beside him.

Hou Hou Yuzhao laughed bitterly. "If they meant to arrest you, would the Middle Noble come himself? Would he carry that embroidered fish-patterned cloak? Only the Grand Secretary and Commander Qi have those. Get off the carriage quickly—stop showing off. Offend the Middle Noble, and you'll regret it."

Li Li Chengliang let out a long laugh, straightened his attire, and stepped out of the carriage.

Feng Bao stepped forward; two young eunuchs unfurled the imperial decree. Feng Bao then swept his fly-whisk and declared: "Marquis Ningyuan Marquis, receive the decree."

"By the grace of Heaven and the mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees:"

"I, inheriting Heaven's clear mandate, rule all under Heaven. Thanks to ancestral blessings and the loyal efforts of virtuous ministers, the four seas are tranquil, yet the Great Unity remains unattained. Though the realm is at peace, the work is unfinished."

"

The Great Wall stands not by brick and stone, but by unity of heart; the state endures not by walls alone, but by shared virtue. For a ruler, nothing surpasses honoring Heaven; for a successor, nothing outweighs following ancestral law. For a minister, nothing is more essential than loyalty to the sovereign and love for the people—this is the unity of sovereign and minister in heart and virtue."

"In ancient times, Huo Huo Qubing opened borders but left his work incomplete; Guo Guo Ziyi quelled rebellion and preserved the realm. You combine both virtues, guarding the perilous frontier for fifteen years, with a lone army crushing mighty foes, upholding loyalty and righteousness to secure the people; your martial might quelled the northern deserts, your sword swept away barbarian dust, your spirit pierced Liaodong, expanding territory a thousand li; the beacon fires along the nine borders have all been extinguished, children and elders of Liaodong now till their fields; you achieved greatness yet refused glory, resigned your command and laid down your banner; your integrity shines brighter still, returning to court without hesitation for the honor of the Phoenix Pavilion."

"Therefore, I bestow upon you fifty jars of Guojiao liquor, to honor your heroic spirit; one embroidered fish-patterned cloud-silk cloak, to celebrate your noble deeds; and twelve virtuous women from the ten thousand nations, to soothe your weary travels."

"In accordance with the established precedents of past dynasties, I proclaim virtue and grace, making this known throughout the realm."

"This is my decree."

(Translation of the decree.)

"Thank Your Majesty for this great grace. May Your Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand ten thousand years!" Li Li Chengliang bowed deeply and received the decree.

He returned to the capital precisely for this honor.