Chapter 154: And So His Benefactors to the Springs Below Were Sent!

The new sleeping chamber was much smaller than Qianqing Palace.

Tables and chairs were set out as usual, but on a far smaller scale than in Wuying Hall.

The large tables seated only two apiece, and the chairs had been changed from grand armchairs to folding chairs.

The nine men of the secretariat had only folding chairs and no tables at all.

(Illustration: Ming-dynasty folding chair style; fold it up when not in use.)

Directly above the main hall hung a brand-new plaque bearing four large characters — "Seek Truth, Be Practical."

Like the "Earnest Hall" plaque, it was personally brushed by His Majesty.

Wu Kongjia carried a stack of documents, deftly pulled a folding chair from against the wall, opened it, and sat down.

Before long, Huang Liji, Li Guopu, Yang Jingchen, and the others arrived one after another, each finding his own folding chair and sitting.

The last to enter were Gao Shiming, Tian Ergeng, and Wang Tiqian.

In this meeting, each of them also had a folding chair to sit in.

As soon as Gao Shiming came through the door, he cupped his hands toward the assembly and announced, "His Majesty's bath has run somewhat long today; the meeting is delayed by a quarter hour."

With that, he found a place and sat down on his own.

The moment they heard the Emperor would not be arriving just yet, the previously solemn atmosphere in the hall relaxed at once.

"Chief Grand Secretary," Li Guopu drew close to Huang Liji and lowered his voice, "now that Shi Pinghu has begged leave to retire his bones, only you and I remain in the Grand Secretariat — we are stretched far too thin. When we see His Majesty shortly, we must raise the matter of a court recommendation for Grand Secretaries."

Huang Liji stroked his beard and nodded slightly. "It is only proper. Now that we have the added review of statecraft documents, you and I truly cannot be in two places at once."

On the other side, Yang Jingchen sought out Gao Shiming. "Eunuch Gao, yesterday His Majesty said the newly drafted performance-evaluation method still has flaws. After the meeting, might you and I discuss it further?"

Meanwhile, Cheng Jiming had struck up a conversation with the Prefect of Shuntian, Xue Guoguan, about the Daily Lecture.

"Prefect Xue, His Majesty says the Daily Lecture will resume, only changed to once every five days. But the new lecture plans prepared these past few days never satisfy His Majesty; they've been sent back for revision several times running. Might the Prefect have some free time this afternoon to come to the Hanlin Academy and offer a few pointers?"

Xue Guoguan pondered a moment and replied, "This afternoon Shuntian Prefecture still has its prefectural meeting. How about… the day after tomorrow, after morning court? I'll bring Wang Zhaodui, Li Shiqi, and the rest along, and we can all go over it together."

"That would be excellent. Then I shall trouble you, Prefect Xue."

The hall was momentarily abuzz with voices, as officials of every faction seized this small window to exchange matters at hand.

The secretariat officials, for their part, had no practical business to handle.

They simply used the same opportunity to continue reviewing the statecraft documents that had been submitted.

Wu Kongjia frowned. He had come across yet another gold-wrapped-silver essay. Without a moment's hesitation, he lifted his brush and slashed a fiercely forceful "X" across it.

The pent-up frustration in his chest seemed to ease just a little with that stroke.

He raised his head, rubbed his aching eyes, and his gaze unconsciously swept the room.

He saw Tian Ergeng and Wang Tiqian huddled together, speaking in low tones.

Tian Ergeng nodded from time to time, and shook his head from time to time.

They were too far away, and the surroundings too noisy; he could not make out what was being said.

As if sensing something, Tian Ergeng suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting Wu Kongjia's with precision. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly; he nodded and smiled, then turned back and continued his discussion with Wang Tiqian.

In that single instant, a powerful sense of estrangement washed over Wu Kongjia like a tide.

The civil officials in this hall included Donglin men and men of the eunuch faction.

Yet even Huang Liji and Yang Jingchen, who came from the eunuch faction, had kept their hands relatively clean.

The two with the dirtiest hands, Wang Tiqian and Tian Ergeng, were, respectively, Director of the Eastern Depot and Guard Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard — both trusted imperial attendants.

The Eastern Depot remained as universally loathed as ever, but the reputation of the Embroidered Uniform Guard under Tian Ergeng's command was quietly shifting.

In successive issues of the Great Ming Times, reports of the Embroidered Uniform Guard arresting corrupt officials, sandwiched among the endless columns of the "Son of Heaven's Three Questions," stood out with striking prominence.

The newspaper depicted the arrest scenes with vivid detail — the reactions of the common people, the terror of the corrupt officials, the righteous solemnity of the Embroidered Uniform Guard — written as grippingly as the popular storybooks sold in the marketplace.

With every issue, the popularity of this column was nearly catching up to that heart-stirring Loyal Heart on the Liao Sea.

At the thought of Loyal Heart on the Liao Sea, Wu Kongjia could not suppress another inward sigh.

In the latest installment, Wang Sancai, after lying low for half a year, had finally found his chance: using a kitchen cleaver he had secretly hidden away, he set out to assassinate the Later Jin Niru Janggin Harningga —

— the very enemy who had cut off his father's head with his own hands.

He had not expected that Harningga wore python-patterned satin smuggled from the interior; Wang Sancai's dull blade could not pierce it.

In the end, he fought with desperate, reckless abandon and managed to drag Harningga into a cesspit to drown him.

Yet the successful assassination only brought fiercer retaliation.

Harningga's elder brother, unable to find the killer, simply carried out a "decimation" upon the Han Chinese aha (slaves) of the entire niru.

Wang Daniu, who had once given his own cornbread to Wang Sancai; Wang Sanjie, who had gathered medicinal herbs for him; Old Niu, who had given him his own son's old clothes…

One vivid face after another, one kind soul after another — all died miserably because of it.

Yet to the very end, no one ever revealed that Wang Sancai was hiding in the cellar.

He had even memorized the closing poem printed in the newspaper.

Nursing hate, half a year hid in the weeds,

Till blood-whetted blade could vengeful head appease.

And so his benefactors to the springs below were sent.

"I did not kill Boren, yet Boren died because of me."

To Wu Kongjia, those words felt like a red-hot iron needle driven deep into his heart.

How exactly this feeling mirrored his own!

To avenge his father, he had thrown in his lot with Wei Zhongxian and brought suit against his uncle for seizing Mount Huang, illegally selling timber, and using bribes to forestall intervention.

He had thought it would be a satisfying vengeance to comfort his parents' souls.

He never imagined that Wei Zhongxian's appetite was far more than a mere Wu family could sate.

When the great case concluded, his uncle had been caned to death in prison — gratifying, to be sure.

But that his grand-aunt, aunt, and cousin all hanged themselves — how brutally tragic was that?

Under the sprawling net of implication, in She County entire towns saw their homes broken by the hundreds and thousands.

With the matter taken to this extreme, he had not merely cut himself off from his native place — even within officialdom he was regarded as a swine, a dog, a wolf, a jackal.

He longed to defend himself, yet had no words — longed to defend himself, yet had no words…

This new reign, these new policies, this bright and clear world — they seemed to brim with vigorous hope.

Only — this hope, was he worthy of it?

His heart churned with a hundred mingled flavors, when suddenly he heard a long, drawn-out announcement.

"His Majesty ascends the hall —"

A young eunuch's clear, ringing voice rose, and the hall fell silent in an instant.

The assembled men rose from their seats one after another, bowed low, and prostrated themselves.

Zhu Youjian, dressed in a black informal robe, strode briskly into the hall, went straight to the foremost desk behind the imperial desk, and sat down.

"All of you, rise." His voice was calm yet forceful.

The assembled men rose.

Wu Kongjia swiftly reined in his surging emotions, picked up paper and brush, and prepared to listen and record.

This meeting was neither a summons for audience nor a formal reception; His Majesty had personally named it a "pull-through meeting."

In private they had tried to fathom the imperial intent.

In the end, it was Huang Liji's view that won the widest agreement.

The word "pull" was drawn from the Book of Changes: "Draw them out and extend them; touch upon their kind and lengthen them, and all the capabilities under heaven are brought to completion."

The word "through" was drawn from: "When exhausted, there is change; through change, there is passage; through passage, there is endurance."

They had never imagined that His Majesty, beyond reading widely in the histories, would also have dabbled in the Book of Changes.

"Well now, my ministers," Zhu Youjian did not rush to discuss business. He leaned back in his chair, a trace of a smile on his face. "Today, we shall not deliberate on concrete matters."

He swept his gaze across them all and spoke slowly.

"These new policies — we have discussed them for several days now, and at last some shape has emerged."

"But there is no urgency; we would not reach a final conclusion before tomorrow's court assembly anyway."

"Let us do as we said before: set the first day of the eleventh month as the deadline, and leave a full month for everyone to talk it through clearly and thoroughly."

"As for today…"

Zhu Youjian paused, and his gaze settled on Xue Guoguan.

"Minister Xue, have the matters of the first phase of the capital's new policies been fully collated?"

Xue Guoguan immediately rose, bowed, and replied: "In reply to Your Majesty, all results have been fully collated and submitted to Eunuch Gao for compilation."

"And the matter of the Embroidered Uniform Guard reductions?"

Tian Ergeng and another official rose: "The latest results have also been sealed in the files and submitted to Eunuch Gao."

"And the palace staff reductions?"

"And the palace oversight matters?"

Zhu Youjian fired one question after another, and the officials whose names were called rose one by one to answer.

What he asked about were all the practical undertakings he had launched since ascending the throne.

Some of these had only just begun, some were halfway through, and some were already complete.

All of them were matters he had selected, since his enthronement, that could be tackled immediately and that touched relatively few vested interests.

Now, with the new policies about to rise, it was time to haul these "small achievements" out before the assembled officials — to flex a little muscle and paint a grand picture.

— If you want meat, you have to come early to get it; come late and you'll be sitting at the children's table.

Finally, his gaze fell upon Gao Shiming.

Gao Shiming understood at once. He stepped forward and declared in a ringing voice:

"In reply to Your Majesty, it has been confirmed that civil and military officials, merit nobles, and imperial relatives presently in the capital number one thousand six hundred and forty-nine persons who will attend the court assembly."

"Furthermore, a total of eighty screens and all required materials have been prepared. The young eunuchs guiding at each point have all been drawn from the Inner Palace School, have rehearsed for many days, and nothing will go amiss."

Zhu Youjian nodded with satisfaction.

He rose, paced a few steps, and looked at them all once more.

"Among you, some have toiled alongside us from the very day we ascended the throne; others joined this team of ours partway through."

"You have all labored long. What you have done may seem confined to the inner palace, confined to the capital. But a journey of a thousand li begins beneath one's feet."

His tone softened somewhat.

"Today, the arrow is on the string and must be loosed. One more day of discussing the new policies will not make the difference."

"We thought we might simply speak with each of you alone, to hear what hopes you harbor, or what thoughts you may have. Let us gather wisdom from all, so that we may better press forward."

"When we have finished talking, all of you may go home — no need to report for duty this afternoon. Rest well, and tomorrow, rally your spirits and put on a fine showing."

The assembled men looked at one another; after so many days of intense labor, for a moment they could not quite take it in.

In the end, it was Huang Liji who reacted first. He led them in kneeling and prostrating upon the floor.

"Your subjects thank Your Majesty for this gracious boon!"

Zhu Youjian waved his hand, turned, and walked into the warm chamber in the rear hall.

Gao Shiming immediately stepped forward and made a gesture of invitation toward Huang Liji.

"Chief Grand Secretary, please go first."

Wu Kongjia sat silently where he was, watching as one colleague after another was summoned into the warm chamber.

First came Huang Liji, Cheng Jiming, Yang Jingchen…

Then came his colleagues from the secretariat.

The time each person spent inside varied — the longest no more than the space of a cup of tea, the shortest barely half a ke.

When they came out, their expressions likewise differed from one to the next.

Some looked invigorated, as if infused with boundless fighting spirit; some were calm, as though they had merely had an ordinary conversation; still others had brows tightly knit, sunk deep in thought.

And he, one of the earliest five men in the secretariat, had been placed dead last.

The waiting became a silent torment.

At first he still had the heart to leaf through a few pages of official documents, but slowly his mood grew more and more agitated, until he could no longer read a single word.

At last, the final man from the secretariat, Qi Xinxiao, emerged from the warm pavilion.

He looked impassioned, his whole person seeming to glow. Catching sight of Wu Kongjia, he strode quickly over, cupped his hands, and said:

"Brother Yuanhui, it is your turn. His Majesty summons you in."

Wu Kongjia drew a deep breath, suppressed the ten thousand thoughts churning in his mind, adjusted his robes and cap, and strode toward that tightly shut pavilion door. He pushed it open and entered.

Inside the warm pavilion, Zhu Youjian was bent over his desk, brush in hand, rapidly noting something down on paper.

Seeing him enter, the Emperor merely raised a hand and gestured: "Sit. Wait until We have finished recording this."

Wu Kongjia sat down as bidden on a chair to the lower side, his heart in turmoil.

Whether it was a mere moment or a very long while, Zhu Youjian at last set down his brush.

He raised his head and fixed his gaze on Wu Kongjia.

Wu Kongjia's unease deepened.

He felt as if he could hear his own heart pounding.

Zhu Youjian was silent for a moment, then finally sighed and simply asked: "Minister Wu, have you ever regretted it?"

Wu Kongjia's mind went utterly blank. Instinctively he left his seat, threw himself violently to his knees upon the floor, and knocked his forehead heavily against the cold golden brick.

When he raised his head again, his face was the color of death, his lips trembling, and from his throat he could only force out three words:

"This subject… is guilty."

Zhu Youjian could not help but sigh again.

Since he had begun speaking, he now continued in a single breath:

"Minister Wu, ah, Minister Wu. At least you are willing to be forthright with Us."

"But a wrong is a wrong. So it is for the state, so it is for the Emperor, and so it is, of course, for a subject."

"The Minister of Justice, Qiao Yunsheng, has already arrived in the capital."

"The very first decree We issued to him was to overturn the wrongful and mishandled cases of these past several years."

"And the Huizhou Yellow Mountain case — that is precisely the largest of them all."

"In Our eyes, the harm this great case has done to all under Heaven may well compare to the matter of Yang Lian."

"The matter of Yang Lian wounded the spirit of the scholar-official; the great case of Yellow Mountain wounded the hearts of the common people…"

Wu Kongjia's body began to tremble violently.

"Heaven's way is cyclical; its net is wide, yet nothing slips through." Zhu Youjian's voice seemed to carry a trace of regret. "Your career in the Hanlin is over. Cherish these final days in the secretariat."

"You are dismissed. In due course you will be demoted and sent out as a registrar."

"If you do well in that post, then We, sovereign and minister, may perhaps see each other again one day."

"Otherwise…"

Zhu Youjian sighed once more.

He truly had not expected that behind this clever, useful subject there lay such a story.

He waved his hand and said no more.

Wu Kongjia did not know how he left the imperial palace.

He only remembered that he was like a puppet whose soul had been drained away, a walking corpse passing through the palace gates and down the long palace lane.

The clamor of the capital seemed very far from him, and yet very near.

In his ears were the hawking cries of peddlers, the laughter and play of children, the rolling rumble of carts and horses passing by.

Yet all these sounds seemed muffled by a thick layer of cotton — vague, indistinct, impossible to hear clearly.

In his mind, only the Emperor's final words echoed over and over.

"Heaven's way is cyclical; its net is wide, yet nothing slips through."

"Your career in the Hanlin is over."

"Go and be a registrar."

"We, sovereign and minister, may perhaps see each other again one day."

One sentence was judgment, one was punishment, and one was… hope?

Hope?

The corner of Wu Kongjia's mouth twisted into a smile more bitter than weeping.

He, a man bearing guilt, a cruel official and running dog soon to be reviled by the entire community of scholars under Heaven — was he still worthy of the word hope?

Without realizing it, he had already reached his own gate.

On the plaque above the entrance of the residence, the two characters "Wu Manor" gleamed under the midday sun.

He did not go back to his own bedchamber, nor to his study, but as if moved by some ghostly impulse, walked step by step toward the family shrine in the rear courtyard.

Within the mourning hall, the spirit tablets of his father and mother stood there in silence.

Cold. Solemn.

Wu Kongjia gazed at those tablets, and the nerves that had been stretched taut the entire journey finally, in this moment, snapped inch by inch.

He could hold out no longer. His knees went weak, and he crashed heavily to his knees on the ground.

He did not immediately break into wailing sobs. He simply knelt there, his shoulders shaking violently.

Like a cornered beast driven to its final extremity, he choked back the whimper rising in his throat.

After a long while, he finally raised his head; tears had long since blurred his eyes.

"Father… Mother…"

He spoke hoarsely, his voice shattered beyond recognition.

"Your son…"

"Your son…"

A thousand words crowded Wu Kongjia's heart, yet he found himself utterly speechless…

He had meant to avenge his father — a blood-debt of family hatred that, in truth, was directed at his uncle alone.

Yet in the end it dragged in a hundred, a thousand households of his home village, and drove his grandaunt, his aunt, and his cousin to hang themselves.

The osmanthus cakes his grandaunt had sent, the timid look on his cousin's face when he rebuked her and sent her away — all of it rose before his eyes.

He had meant to bring glory to his ancestors, but instead he had ruined his name and now faced demotion and banishment to the provinces.

Remorse, terror, grievance… a flood of ten thousand emotions surged over him and drowned him.

Yet within this boundless agony, a strange thread of release rose from the deepest recesses of his heart.

Like a traveler who had borne a ten-thousand-catty burden on his back, finally setting down his pack.

After all… this day has come at last.

In the past, he had always sought to justify himself, laying all the blame on Wei Zhongxian's greed, on the injustice of the world.

But the Emperor's words had shattered every last one of his pretenses.

"To do wrong is to do wrong. So it is for the state, so it is for the Emperor, and so it is, of course, for his ministers."

He, Wu Kongjia, was just like that Wang Sancai in the story.

He had driven his benefactor to the underworld!

"Ah—"

A howl, suppressed to the breaking point, finally burst from his chest.

He lay prostrate on the ground, wailing like a lost child.

"What could I do… what could I do!"

"Did I ever wish for this!"

Within the mourning hall, between the two cold spirit tablets, pale incense smoke curled upward.

It drifted among the beams and rafters, and gradually vanished from sight.