Chapter 85

I truly neglect my duties. Volume Eighty-Five: The Clan Faction Really Resembles a Pack of Dogs. Zhu Yijun heard Zhang Juzheng mention an old incident: during the Longqing era, the Jizhen section of the Great Wall falsely reported enemy activity, triggering a state of alert in the capital and causing massive losses. Though not yet the farming season, the capital’s alert had driven up prices across the board, plunging the people into hardship and prompting mass migration southward.

Not only in the second year of Longqing, but also in August of the fifth year of Longqing, another false report occurred—again submitted by Fang Fengshi—and it took considerable effort to finally calm things down.

At the time, some officials in court accused Wang Chonggu of negligence and collusion with the enemy.

The second false report lasted only seven days. Qi Jiguang was not in the capital then and knew little of the details of the August Longqing Fifth incident, having merely received imperial orders to stand ready with weapons at hand.

Tan Lun chuckled twice and said: “Can’t you find another way? On August 22 of Longqing Fifth, I waited seven full days at Huanghua Town—where were the bandits?”

That time, Tan Lun fell ill upon returning and took over a year to recover. This is an old trick.

Whenever someone in court seeks to strike at the core interests of the Jin Faction, they fabricate false border incidents to intimidate the court into refraining from acting against the Jin Faction.

At that time, Gao Gong held power.

Zhang Juzheng looked at the twenty-seven court ministers and said: “We have no confirmed news yet. Treat it as if the northern barbarians are assaulting the passes.”

“Grand Censor Ge.”

Ge Shouli immediately replied: “Present.”

Zhang Juzheng continued: “Imperial Censor Chen Tang of the Huguang Circuit shall proceed to Miyun County; Censor Zhang Chucheng of the Military Bureau shall go to Jizhen; Censor Jia Sanjin shall immediately proceed to Yong’an City and await orders. Once the military situation is confirmed, open official quarters within the city to shelter refugees.”

“Grand Secretary Wang Xilie, dispatch Associate Scholar Shen Yiguan to Tianjin’s Three Garrisons, ready for immediate orders.”

At this moment, Ge Shouli had no intention of defying Zhang Juzheng and immediately said: “I shall depart at once to coordinate.”

After speaking with Ge Shouli and Wang Xilie, Zhang Juzheng watched them leave the court to dispatch the censors, junior censors, and associate scholars to the locations he had specified.

Zhang Juzheng turned to Qi Jiguang, took a deep breath, and said: “Grand Secretary Tan Lun of the Ministry of War and Grand General Qi Jiguang of the Capital Garrison—you two shall proceed immediately to the Capital Garrison and await orders.”

“Yes.” Qi Jiguang and Tan Lun departed at once.

“Grand Censor Hai, proceed to Tongzhou and inspect its grain reserves, ready for immediate transport to the capital.” Zhang Juzheng looked at Hai Rui with sincere gravity: “The grain in Tongzhou concerns the safety of the capital and the state. Ensure that when orders arrive, the grain reaches the capital within three days, to prepare for any emergency.”

“Yes.” Hai Rui left the court.

Zhang Juzheng turned to the remaining ministers and said: “Minister of Personnel Zhang Han shall proceed to Chaoyang Gate and inspect its defenses; Minister of Rites Wan Shihé shall proceed to Desheng Gate and inspect its defenses; Minister of Justice Wang Zhihao shall proceed to Xizhimen and inspect its defenses; Minister of Works Zhu Heng shall proceed to the Outer City and inspect its defenses.”

Zhang Juzheng made a series of arrangements. Zhu Yijun remained silent, waiting until all court ministers had been assigned to critical posts.

When most ministers had departed, Zhu Yijun studied Zhang Juzheng’s orders and asked, puzzled: “Zhang Han to Chaoyang Gate, Hai Rui to Tongzhou, Shen Yiguan to Tianjin’s Three Garrisons—what is your intention, Grand Secretary?”

Zhu Yijun, hearing these three names, sensed something amiss: Zhang Han was the Minister of Personnel who only praised Grand Secretary’s decisions—Zhang Juzheng’s man; Hai Rui was a classic Imperial Faction member; Shen Yiguan had served Hu Zongxian, and the court had just granted Hu Zongxian a posthumous title, fully rehabilitating him.

This looked unmistakably like an escape route.

Zhang Juzheng bowed and said: “If war turns dire, Your Majesty and the Empress Dowagers shall exit through Donghuamen, proceed to Chaoyang Gate, then to Tongzhou, and from there take a boat south to Tianjin’s Three Garrisons.”

Zhu Yijun leapt to his feet and shouted: “I will not flee! When the Oirats captured Emperor Yingzong, Emperor Jingtai never moved the court south! Relocation brings disaster—it means the fall of the state! That is the lesson you taught me, Grand Secretary!”

Zhang Juzheng bowed low and whispered: “Your Majesty, times have changed.”

In the fourteenth year of Zhengtong, the Ming was a strong young man; Emperor Jingtai was in his prime. In the first year of Wanli, the Ming is an old man nearing death, and the young emperor is only ten years old.

“Principles are principles, understanding is understanding, practice is practice. When practice and understanding conflict, one must follow the reality of practice. This is the lesson I have learned since beginning my lectures.” Zhang Juzheng was a scholar—and he always had a reason.

The young emperor must flee if needed. Zhang Juzheng was his tutor, his entrusted guardian. He would not flee. If Yu Qian could hold the capital then, he could now.

Zhang Juzheng was so cautious because he was unsure whether his suppression of the Jin Faction had been too harsh—whether they might ally with the northern barbarians, as they had during the Gengxu Incident.

Zhang Juzheng must guard against the Jin Faction’s possible retaliation, especially now that Wang Chonggu had left and Zhang Siwei had not returned to court.

Zhang Juzheng began drafting edicts. All his prior deployments had merely moved people into place—he had not issued specific orders. That was the emperor’s prerogative, and he would not overstep.

He drafted a stack of edicts. If it was confirmed that thirty thousand northern barbarians were gathering beyond the passes, ready to invade southward, it would mean a tacit alliance among Altan Khan, the Jin Faction, and the northern minor khans. Then these edicts would be sealed and dispatched to every corner of the capital region.

Young eunuchs and secretaries shuttled between Wenhua Hall and Wenyuan Pavilion. Under the Kaocheng System, the Ming’s exquisitely precise bureaucratic machine, though rusted, stirred to life, turning swiftly. Within the capital’s offices, lights burned brightly; officials rushed back and forth; armories began inventorying weapons—all preparing for the possible war.

Zhang Juzheng finished drafting the edicts and issued orders. The moon had already risen above the willow branches.

Zhu Yijun began stamping each edict with his “Wanli Treasure,” except for the one ordering Zhang Juzheng to defend the capital while he fled—he refused to seal it.

He had not yet assumed personal rule, but he had the right to refuse.

Zhu Yijun sat upright, thought for a moment, and said to Zhang Juzheng: “Though I am young, I can draw a bow and shoot arrows. I may not fire many shots with a thirty-jin soft bow, but I can strike a northern barbarian’s eye. Once the emperor flees south, morale and defense in the capital collapse—resistance becomes impossible. The two Empress Dowagers, Prince Lu, and others may proceed to the southern capital.”

“Thus.” Zhu Yijun picked up his brush and drafted his own imperial decree. It differed little from Zhang Juzheng’s, except he crossed out his own name from the list of those to flee south. He was not negotiating—he was informing.

He could not flee. If he fled, the capital’s morale would shatter, resistance would collapse. Morale is elusive—when the emperor flees first, the consequences are unbearable for the Ming. Even if Zhang Juzheng had boundless talent, a broken court, a force stripped of all loyalty, could not win.

Shameful survival is worse than noble death. For Zhu Yijun, he would rather die gloriously—death, yet still alive.

“I obey Your Majesty’s command.” Zhang Juzheng remained silent for a long time after hearing the emperor’s change, then finally acquiesced. He had faith in himself, in Qi Jiguang, in the three garrisons of Jizhen, Yongping, and Shanhai Pass—and in the Ming.

The Ming was not yet doomed.

The emperor and minister gazed at each other in silence. Autumn wind rustled the pages before Zhu Yijun. The two Empress Dowagers waited anxiously in the rear palace; Prince Lu Zhu Yilou had fallen asleep.

A messenger rode hard to the foot of Desheng Gate, drew his bow full, and shot an arrow into the Five Phoenix Tower atop the gate. A frontier dispatch arrived in the capital. It reached the Embroidered Uniform Guard at top speed. The guards rushed to Wenhua Hall and knelt: “Dispatch from Beigukou!”

“Admit!” Zhu Yijun rose instantly, gesturing for the guard to bring the dispatch in.

Zhang Juzheng broke the wax seal, read it long, then his face showed both relief and deep gravity. He bowed and said: “Your Majesty, Wu Dui, Assistant Military Commissioner of Jizhen, reports false intelligence. The Jizhen Regional Commander Chen Dacheng, through night scouts and beacon towers, confirms: there is no enemy presence at Beigukou.”

“False report?” Zhu Yijun’s expression darkened. Such a major threat—how dare Wu Dui fabricate it? Does he wish to die?

“Grand Censor, send men immediately to arrest him and bring him back to the capital! I want to know why he lied! Is he trying to frighten me?” Zhu Yijun’s face turned grim upon hearing it was false.

“Grand Censor, wait.” Zhang Juzheng signaled the Grand Censor to pause, then bowed: “Your Majesty, Wu Dui, styled Huanzhou, known as Wu Huanzhou, once served as Assistant Military Commissioner in Xuan-Da. This false report is a lie—but next time, it may not be.”

“I suggest reprimanding him for alarmism and false rewards.”

Zhu Yijun, hearing Zhang Juzheng’s words, understood the true nature of this false report: the Jin Faction had merely stretched its limbs, demonstrating its power. The court had already agreed to recall Zhang Siwei to serve as Deputy Director of the Shizong Veritable Records—then reneged.

Zhang Siwei was determined to claim credit for the Shizong Veritable Records!

Because this directly affected his future appointment to the Grand Secretariat—the Jin Faction’s core interest.

This was a warning: if Zhang Siwei does not get this credit, next time the northern barbarians attack the border, don’t blame the Jin Faction for lacking loyalty to the throne—they’ll have merely diverted the disaster eastward.

After understanding the full scheme, Zhu Yijun calmed down, his face now lit with a radiant smile. He sat back and said: “I understand. As General Qi said, border troops hold shields and defend; the Capital Garrison holds spears and attacks. Since the Capital Garrison’s arms are weak, they dare act so brazenly.”

“Damn.”

Zhu Yijun’s smile puzzled Zhang Juzheng. He bowed and asked: “Forgive me, Your Majesty—why do you laugh?”

This corrupt court—and the young emperor laughed instead of raging. Was he laughing at the clan faction’s endless infighting? At Zhang Juzheng’s helplessness once again? Or at the utter hopelessness of the Ming’s situation? Whatever the reason, Zhang Juzheng did not want to see this laugh.

Zhu Yijun smiled and said: “Grand Censor says the fiercer the dog, the quieter it is; the noisier the dog, the more it’s afraid. The more it blusters, the more it fears—mere cowards. I laugh at them—they really do resemble a pack of dogs.”

“Grand Secretary—if they turn against us, who wins?”

Zhang Juzheng straightened his back, humbly replying: “Though I am unworthy, they cannot win.”

Zhu Yijun’s smile remained as he nodded: “Grand Secretary, reprimand Wu Dui for false intelligence, summon him to court to apologize, have Xu Xing interrogate him, then send him back to Xuan-Da. Wasn’t he formerly Governor of Xuanfu? Let him return there.”

Zhang Juzheng bowed: “Your Majesty is wise.”

Zhang Juzheng, as the young emperor’s teacher, understood his pupil’s mind perfectly. Sending Wu Dui back to Xuanfu was clearly meant to herd the dogs together—then net them all and send them to the Dissection Hall.

False intelligence alone wouldn’t warrant the Dissection Hall—but rebellion, high treason, certainly would.

The young emperor was now a scholar too—his mind was indeed cunning. Let it be cunning. Better cunning than ignorant.

Zhang Juzheng pulled out a reprimand edict, added a few lines, handed it to Zhang Hong, and requested the emperor’s seal to send to Jizhen, reprimanding Wu Dui. The Embroidered Uniform Guard would deliver the decree on the spot, strip him of his post, and escort him to the capital.

“What do you think of Marshal Yu’s request to assign General Chen Lin from Governor Yin Zhengmao’s forces in Guangdong and Guangxi?” Zhu Yijun brought up another matter.

Zhang Juzheng bowed: “Guangdong and Guangxi are now stable. Chen Lin is a fierce and capable general. Under Marshal Yu, his military skill will surely improve.”

“Thank you, Grand Secretary, for your tireless service to the state. These edicts shall be archived by the Directorate of Palace Affairs. If war truly comes, we won’t be caught off guard. Today, my lord, you are exhausted—tomorrow, take a day’s rest.” Zhu Yijun bowed slightly, thanking Zhang Juzheng for his labor, granting a holiday to the ministers who had worked today.

“Thank Your Majesty’s great grace. I respectfully see Your Majesty off.” Zhang Juzheng bowed again, seeing the emperor out.

Zhang Juzheng never truly cared for the Jin Faction. Even when Gao Gong and Yang Bo were in court, he never feared them. He knew he could outmaneuver them—they had played their tricks for years, and he knew them all. Only Yang Bo’s new Jin Faction had briefly surprised him.

What Zhang Juzheng truly cared about was the young emperor. In handling this false report, the emperor had shown courage and ambition—this was the best news Zhang Juzheng could receive.

Just the Jin Faction.

But the emperor’s bright, cheerful smile was slightly chilling.

The two Empress Dowagers, upon hearing it was a false report, sighed in relief. Empress Dowager Li, puzzled, asked Zhu Yijun: “If it’s a false report, just remove him from office and send him home. Why send Wu Dui back to Xuanfu to serve as governor again?”

Zhu Yijun thought a moment and replied: “When I used a slingshot to shoot fish in the Taiye Pool, after only a few days, I caught a few fish. But whenever they saw me, they vanished. Only when I walked away did they surface again. I shot fish to train my aim.”

“But if you want to catch every fish in the Taiye Pool, the best way is not to scare them—drive them into one spot, then net them all.”

Empress Dowager Chen burst out laughing and shook her head: “You can derive philosophy from fishing? Don’t worry about the emperor, sister—he has his own mind. We don’t understand what the Grand Secretary and the emperor discuss. Let them decide. We’ll be easier for it.”

Empress Dowager Li thought a moment, waved her hand: “It’s late. Go to sleep.”

Tan Lun, stationed at the northern capital garrison, heard it was a false report and rose to leave.

“I wasn’t in the capital during the Longqing Second incident. In August of Longqing Fifth, southern Han refugees claimed northern barbarians were preparing to raid—everything erupted for seven days. That nearly killed me. Fang Fengshi, who filed that false report, is still governor of Datong today—just like Wu Dui.” Tan Lun looked at Qi Jiguang, recounting the past.

Qi Jiguang had been merely a border commander then and didn’t know the full picture. Only now, hearing Tan Lun’s account, did he learn the truth. Zhang Juzheng’s letters had merely instructed Qi Jiguang, then still in Jizhen, to train his troops well.

Tan Lun tightened his cloak and smiled: “Don’t see me off, General Qi. The Capital Garrison must revive. Even if we had ten thousand elite troops, these brats wouldn’t dare act so boldly!”

“See off Grand Secretary Tan.” Qi Jiguang saw Tan Lun off, his eyes dark and unreadable. The Capital Garrison—execute the disloyal.

The eunuch Xu Jue, the two chief interrogators of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Zhao Mengyou and Luo Bingliang, and over forty riders galloped toward Jizhen. Jizhen was only 120 li from the capital. They arrived soon.

Xu Jue dismounted. Two young eunuchs behind him carried the imperial decree. Zhao Mengyou and Luo Bingliang drew their embroidered knives. They represented the supreme authority of the Ming. Any border garrison that resisted was guilty of rebellion.

Dawn was breaking. The city gates opened. Jizhen’s Regional Commander Chen Dacheng opened the gates. The Embroidered Uniform Guard poured in, found Wu Dui preparing breakfast, seized him on the spot. Several concubines screamed in terror.

“Who are you! Let go of me! Do you know who I am!” Wu Dui screamed wildly. The guards found him annoying, shoved him hard to the ground, pinning him motionless.

“Grand Assistant, what refined tastes you have—even on the frontier, you’ve gathered five concubines—life must be splendid.” Xu Jue entered, sneered, and shouted: “By imperial decree: Assistant Military Commissioner of Jizhen, Ministry of War’s Bureau Director Wu Dui, receive the edict!”

“By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees:”

“Recalling the Longqing era, Xuan-Da suddenly reported western barbarians attacking Jizhen. Jizhen scouts claimed the barbarians had moved westward, imminent. Troops from all directions manned the walls; the capital was placed on alert. The court debated defense strategies. Xinghua failed to lead, actions were chaotic and absurd. Yet the barbarians never appeared. After a month of defense, it was abandoned—costing hundreds of thousands.”

“Now, reports pour in again. If we act as before, we shall become another laughingstock.”

“Jizhen’s report proves baseless—all false claims of enemy presence, fabricated for reward. Those in charge, fearing personal blame, report every rumor without verifying truth or falsehood, merely securing future exoneration. False reports breed false actions. The frontier becomes a cesspool of deceit.”

“I, a young and unworthy emperor, have heard: In the quiet night, the palace plays flutes; without cause, beacon fires blaze to heaven. Pitiful are the states that suffer in haste—only to earn Lady Bao’s single laugh. Your false report of enemy presence is no different from King You of Zhou lighting beacon fires to amuse his concubine.”

“I hereby order: Assistant Military Commissioner of Jizhen, Ministry of War’s Bureau Director Wu Dui, to be immediately relieved of duty, summoned to court to apologize, and interrogated by Xu Xing.”

Emperor orders Wu Dui, Assistant Military Commissioner of Jizhou and Secretary of the Ministry of War, to be dismissed from his post on the spot, summoned to the capital to confess his guilt, and interrogated by Xu Xing.

“By imperial command.”

Xu Jue finished speaking and signaled the Embroidered Uniform Guards to take this man back to the capital now.

In this imperial edict, a few lines were added by the young emperor himself—namely, the poem “Liangye Liguang Zou Guanhuang,” which had no formal meter. Zhang Juzheng was learned and insisted on poetic rules; the young emperor, having read little, had no sense of meter. This poem recounted how King You of Zhou, to make Bao Si smile, treated beacon fires and smoke as a joke, ultimately leading to the collapse of his state and his death.

Falsely reporting military intelligence has never been a trivial matter.

“Xu Dang, you’ve worked hard.” Chen Da never knew what had happened—the Embroidered Uniform Guards drew their blades and asked only where Wu Dui was.

Xu Jue pushed back the salt vouchers Chen Da had offered and shook his head. “General Chen, this cannot be done.”

The two young eunuchs following him were Zhang Hong’s men. If he took money from frontier generals, Zhang Hong would say a few words, and Feng Bao’s six months of effort would vanish.

“What has Wu Dui done? Why has the capital suddenly issued a stern edict concerning Jizhen?” Chen Da had heard rumors of eunuchs in the palace changing, but he never imagined they’d actually refuse bribes. The palace’s infighting seemed even fiercer than outside. Seeing Wu Dui arrested, Chen Da asked for details.

Xu Jue didn’t stay long. He smiled and said, “Wu Dui falsely reported military intelligence. His Majesty is furious and has issued an imperial decree to bring Wu Dui to the capital for interrogation. A new Assistant Regional Commander will arrive tomorrow to assist the Regional Commander.”

“Let’s go.”

“See off Xu Dang.” Chen Da hurried out to escort him, only relaxing into a smile once they had passed beyond Jizhou’s city gates.

Wu Dui was a member of the Jin Party. He had previously served as Assistant Regional Commander in Xuanfu and Datong, and after being transferred to Jizhou, he dared not act rashly under Qi Jiguang’s military authority. After General Qi entered the capital and Chen Da became Regional Commander, Wu Dui grew even more arrogant.

But Chen Da never imagined Wu Dui would dare falsely report military intelligence!

When he received a court inquiry about barbarian movements, he was stunned. What barbarian threat? A major victory had just been won in February; the Dong Fox and the northern barbarians needed time to recover before daring to raid again.

Chen Da went to the Great Wall’s garrison posts and questioned the distant outposts—there was not a trace of thirty thousand men gathering.

Each northern barbarian had at least three or four horses. If they truly marched south, even two thousand men would create enormous noise—horses and men alike. If the northern barbarians had attacked, refugees beyond the passes would have flooded in, begging to enter the border for protection.

Wu Dui was quickly escorted to the capital. As a Jin Party member, Ge Shouli, as party leader, naturally rushed to intervene. After learning the full details, Ge Shouli was stunned—all of it was fake!

The young emperor’s edict directly labeled this incident “beacon fires mocking the feudal lords,” and indeed, that was precisely what it was.

Ge Shouli went to the Ministry of Justice, learned Wu Dui had been arrested by the Embroidered Uniform Guards and imprisoned in the Northern Surveillance Office, then went to the Northern Surveillance Office demanding to see Wu Dui.

Zhu Xixiao knew roughly how the emperor intended to handle this and did not obstruct him—he allowed Ge Shouli into the Heavenly Prison to meet Wu Dui alone. Of course, walls have ears; everyone understood this.

Wu Dui was now completely sober, cowering in a corner, trembling with fear. Seeing Ge Shouli, he scrambled over on his hands and knees.

“Master Ge, save me! Master Ge, save me!” Wu Dui clutched Ge Shouli’s pant leg tightly, his whole body shaking. Only after being dragged back to the Heavenly Prison did he finally feel fear—even if he didn’t know the horror of the Dissection Courtyard, he knew the Five Poisons Tortures of the prison were beyond the endurance of a frail scholar.

Wu Dui had never feared before because the Jin Party had always operated this way—he had developed a path dependency.

Fang Fengshi had disrupted the court twice during Longqing’s second and fifth years and was still serving as Provincial Governor in Datong. What could possibly happen?

Only now, after being arrested, did Wu Dui come to his senses—Gao Gong was gone; Zhang Juzheng now governed!

Ge Shouli tried to pull his leg free, but after several attempts, he couldn’t. He forced patience and asked, “Wu Dui, when reporting barbarian intelligence from the frontier, you must have the Regional Commander’s signature and seal. When you submitted your report, did the Jizhou Regional Commander affix his seal?”

Wu Dui avoided eye contact. “No. I merely heard rumors of barbarian activity, panicked, and rushed the report to the capital. I feared the court would be unprepared and fall into chaos again.”

“I—I—I did it for the court!”

“You fool!” Ge Shouli yanked his leg free and glared at Wu Dui. “The court has laws! Reporting barbarian intelligence requires the Regional Commander’s signature and seal. Even when His Majesty issues an edict to arrest someone and seize illicit goods, the Ministry of Justice must sign and seal the documents to convert a yellow-paper case into an imperial warrant case. How dare you?”

“I thought you had an inside agent among the northern barbarians and knew of this, so you didn’t want to share the credit with the Regional Commander. I assumed you were deceived. But you merely ‘heard rumors’? How can I possibly save you?”

Ge Shouli had imagined countless possibilities—that Wu Dui, having served long on the frontier and cultivated ties with the northern barbarians, had received intelligence and reported it himself to prevent the Regional Commander from taking the credit.

But it was nothing of the sort—it was simply “cultivating enemies to maintain one’s own power.”

“Master Ge, save me!” Wu Dui’s eyes lit up at Ge Shouli’s words. An inside agent couldn’t be verified. Ge Shouli’s phrasing gave Wu Dui the perfect excuse—inside agent, competing for credit, deceived, regretful, confessing. Ge Shouli had pointed the way clearly.

“You’re hopeless. I’ll go find Master Yuanfu. Stay in your cell, don’t cause trouble.” Ge Shouli, seeing Wu Dui understood, swept his sleeve and left the Heavenly Prison.

An inside agent was hard to verify. Being deceived sounded far better than being branded as “beacon fires mocking the feudal lords” to intimidate the court.

Ge Shouli hurried to the Quanchu Hall. Under You Qi’s guidance, he found Zhang Juzheng in the kitchen, fiddling with sweet potatoes.

Zhang Juzheng wore only shirt and trousers, peeling washed sweet potatoes, especially digging out the sunken parts. After arranging them neatly, he took out a grater and prepared to shred them.

“Master Ge, please wait a moment while I finish this.” Zhang Juzheng smiled upon seeing Ge Shouli.

Ge Shouli, astonished, asked, “What is Master Yuanfu doing?”

Zhang Juzheng smiled. “The Baoqi Office sent instructions on how to prepare sweet potatoes. I’m testing them. Now I’m shredding them; after drying, they can be ground into powder. If made into noodles or skin residue, they’ll save staple grain. Besides famine relief, they can also be grown for starch.”

“The palace eunuchs all flatter the emperor, afraid they’ll deceive him.”

Watching Zhang Juzheng, awkward at the task, Ge Shouli felt profound emotion. The *Mencius: Liang Huiwang, Chapter One* says: “Seeing them alive, I cannot bear to see them dead; hearing their cries, I cannot bear to eat their flesh. Thus, the gentleman keeps away from the kitchen.”

Zhang Juzheng not only did not keep away—he personally shredded, dried, and planned to prepare them.

Zhang Juzheng was no cook. He did this himself to practice truth. Today was his day off, yet he was not idle—he feared the young emperor would be deceived by eunuchs.

Moreover, the young emperor personally tended to farming and sericulture. If the Imperial Tutor knew nothing of it and was asked, yet answered with ignorance, how could he remain Imperial Tutor?

Zhang Juzheng washed his hands. “Isn’t there four fen of land near the Nine-Fold Bridge at the Quanchu Hall? The sweet potato harvest there matches the palace’s roughly. Sweet potatoes can’t serve as staple grain, but they can be made into starch—still useful. Even if nothing else, they can be fermented into wine. Anything that saves staple grain counts.”

“Are you here about Wu Dui?”

Ge Shouli hurriedly replied, “Yes. He was deceived by villains and driven by ambition for credit.”

“This is my private residence. Since we speak privately, Master Ge, don’t fault me for being blunt—I’ll speak plainly.” Zhang Juzheng smiled. “Do you truly believe Wu Dui was deceived?”

Ge Shouli finally shook his head and sighed. He had guessed the truth. Only as party leader did he understand how difficult Yang Bo’s job had been—especially managing a group of restless, reckless subordinates. Being party leader was truly exhausting.

Yet Ge Shouli couldn’t bear to see Yang Bo’s lifetime of effort ruined. He could only endure.

“Master Ge, when Yang Taizai was alive, everyone spoke plainly. We were all enlightened men—we all knew why these sordid things happened. No need for veiled hints. Speak clearly, and everything becomes easier.” Zhang Juzheng turned to Ge Shouli and whispered, “Wu Dui’s case is an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?” Ge Shouli frowned.

Zhang Juzheng looked at him and shook his head. “You, Master Ge—you’ve become so soft as party leader. When Yang Taizai passed, how did he make Zhang Siwei’s duck fly away?”

A dou of rice makes them grateful; a sheng makes them resentful. Do less, and they beg you to help; do more, and they take it for granted. No one respects you.

“Take Wu Dui’s case now. The court is in an uproar. What should you do?”

“Don’t look, don’t listen, don’t speak. Wait until those beneath you grow restless and come begging to your door. Then don’t appear. Let them go to Zhang Siwei. Zhang Siwei has no official position—he can do nothing. When they find him useless, they’ll remember your virtue.”

Ge Shouli suddenly understood. “So… so they’ll all remember me fondly. I’ll win their hearts.”

Zhang Juzheng waved his hands. “No, no, no. When they come to you a second time, still don’t act. Wait until Zhang Siwei comes to you—then step in, step on Zhang Siwei to establish authority. Only then will you win hearts.”

Ge Shouli blinked in disbelief, inwardly astonished. Indeed, being party leader required experience. He hadn’t yet learned how to maximize advantage. After thinking, he asked hesitantly, “Does Master Yuanfu treat General Qi the same way?”

Zhang Juzheng smiled. “No, entirely different. Wu Dui caused chaos; General Qi is being attacked.”

“When General Qi wasn’t a noble, I had to protect him fiercely—he couldn’t accomplish anything otherwise. When he succeeded, I could stand firm. In Longqing’s fifth year, Gao Gong and I competed for the Guangdong-Guangxi Viceroy. Gao Gong’s man Li Qian failed at everything, but Yin Zhengmao went to Guangdong-Guangxi and stabilized it. We all helped each other.”

“To appoint someone to a post, he must succeed—or he will fall behind.”

Ge Shouli finally understood. “Thank you, Master Yuanfu, for your teaching.”

Ge Shouli left the Quanchu Hall. Zhang Juzheng watched his back and said to You Qi, “Ge Shouli has not betrayed Yang Taizai’s trust—he’s shaped this new Jin Party into something respectable.”

“Why teach Ge Shouli how to be party leader? If he does poorly, won’t the Jin Party remain chaotic, which benefits you?” You Qi didn’t understand.

Zhang Juzheng explained: “To break the Jin Party completely, we must first divide it. Ge Shouli is somewhat naive, but he still has a measure of deference. Zhang Siwei’s return to court was truly nauseating.”

Zhang Juzheng was using Wu Dui to split the Jin Party, forcing internal contradictions to surface and intensify, deepening Zhang Siwei’s resentment.

To make someone perish, drive them mad.

The false military report at the end of Longqing’s fifth year caused Tan Lun to suffer a stroke. The text quotes Zhang Juzheng’s original rebuke of Wu Dui for falsely reporting military intelligence. Please vote for monthly tickets! Awooo!!!!!!