Chapter 229: Snow Fills the City, the Sharp Blade Returns to Its Sheath

The Directorate of Astronomy lived down to expectations by being unreliable.

Just a few days ago they had declared the capital would see fine weather for days to come, at most a bit of overcast wind, and that it would certainly not hinder the court assembly.

Then, on the very day before the grand assembly, a blizzard of goose-feather snow swept across the entire capital without the slightest warning.

The snow fell thick and fast, from early morning straight through to noon, showing no sign of letting up.

In a moment the whole city was a single expanse of blank white.

If the snow kept falling so heedlessly, tomorrow's grand assembly would probably have to be suspended according to precedent.

In the duty offices of the various ministries and courts, the officials worked while breathing out white puffs of air, ceaselessly rubbing their hands and stamping their feet, yet their minds had long since drifted out the window. Some even harbored a secret hope that the snow would fall harder and last longer.

That way, they could take a day of rest tomorrow with a clear conscience, and the nerve-wracking grand assembly could be legitimately postponed until the skies cleared after the snow.

Yet after waiting and waiting, what came was not a notice of leave but a piece of news neither large nor small.

Officials queuing for an audience had seen with their own eyes Zhou Ziyu, Director of the Directorate of Astronomy, emerge from the Sincere Reflection Hall in the Western Park, his expression exceedingly grave. At once the duty offices buzzed with activity; everyone whispered to one another, guessing at the reason.

"A mere error in the weather forecast — how could it warrant such a look?"

"Exactly. It's not as if this is our first day knowing that lot at the Directorate of Astronomy. When have they ever been accurate?"

"Even for solar and lunar eclipses they routinely fob us off with 'obscured by clouds, nothing observable.' Could His Majesty really lose his temper over such a trifle? It makes no sense."

"True enough. Even if he did fly into a rage and reprimand him, the worst that could happen is a few obeisances. It's not the first time he's been scolded. Why such deep distress? No matter how harsh the rebuke, he won't lose his post anyway."

At these words, a ripple of low laughter ran through the crowd.

It must be understood that under the Ming dynasty, the merit-assessment system covered practically every civil and military official in the realm: the capable rose, the mediocre fell, and the inferior were weeded out.

Although officialdom had now grown utterly corrupt, if anyone truly dared to lie flat and coast along in the capital, it would still be very hard for that official not to fall.

After all, slacking off was not the real problem — but leaving such an obvious handle for others to seize upon, that was your problem.

Therefore, whether or not they were genuinely busy, everyone still had to pretend to be very busy.

There were, however, a few places that had always stood aloof from the merit assessments.

The first was the academicians of the Hanlin Academy, who historically were never subjected to merit assessments, in order to display their honor and distinction.

The second was the Secretariat Drafters of the Hall of Literary Splendor and the Hall of Martial Valor, and the various artisan officials of the Imperial Household Directorate.

These officials had always petitioned in advance for exemption from assessment by imperial grace, simply because they were all imperially appointed officials elevated by His Majesty's personal decree.

Since they had not entered service through the proper channels, they naturally did not go through the merit assessments.

The third comprised institutions such as the Imperial Academy of Medicine and the Directorate of Astronomy, which likewise were not subject to the assessment and selection process.

After the Longqing and Wanli eras, however, the drafters of the two halls and the Imperial Academy of Medicine were all brought into the reckoning statutes; only the Directorate of Astronomy remained carefree to this day.

Officials serving in the Directorate of Astronomy underwent no performance reviews, no mandatory mourning leave, and no retirement on grounds of age. Though their power was negligible, they had always been the most leisurely and untroubled group at court.

If they were willing to set aside a little face and take on the capital's weddings, funerals, and various ceremonial and divinatory affairs, collecting some ritual fees and gratuities, then while they might not become disgustingly rich, they would still enjoy a life of first-rate ease and prosperity.

Someone lowered his voice and speculated, "Could it be that His Majesty intends to apply the merit-assessment system to the Directorate of Astronomy as well?"

A man beside him immediately chimed in with a quip, his tone brimming with mischief: "If they really were assessed — the Directorate being wrong today and wrong tomorrow — I fear by the start of spring next year not a single one of them would survive."

At this, the whole room burst into uproarious laughter, and the duty office was instantly filled with a jovial atmosphere.

Yet all this — the snowstorm blanketing the city, the chatter among colleagues, the troubles of the Director of Astronomy —

had absolutely nothing to do with Huang Liji.

For this very day, the Chief Grand Secretary of the Great Ming was finally on his rotational leave!

It was a curious thing: what had begun as a joint memorial urging His Majesty to rest had ended with the New Policies faction receiving mid-month leave, while the Old Policies faction got monthly leave alongside the Emperor.

But no one cared anymore.

Even though the leave granted to the Old Policies faction was, compared to that of the New Policies faction, admittedly rather shabby and stingy,

the civil and military officials were still united in heart and brimming with goodwill. There was no sniping, no remonstrance, not even any stalling. Everyone understood that securing the tangible benefit first was the proper course.

To argue against these stingy rules — that was something to fight for only after the leave system had been running stably for a while!

And so, the moment this edict was issued, the entire Ming officialdom instantly radiated an unprecedented and astonishing vitality.

The Emperor's edict took merely half a shichen to complete the full circuit through the Grand Secretariat, the Ministry of Personnel, the Supervising Secretaries, and the Office of Transmission.

Once the itemized regulations and leave rosters drawn up by the Ministry of Personnel reached the various ministries, it took only another shichen to arrange everyone's leave rotations and submit the compiled summary. From the Emperor formally issuing the decree to every ministry completing its arrangements — the entire process took a mere two shichen.

When word of this finally reached the Sincere Reflection Hall in the Western Park, the Eternal Prosperity Sovereign was left momentarily speechless.

In the end, he shook his head and laughed: "If all affairs under Heaven were so easily done, how fine that would be."

Fortunately, after repeated palace purges and the severing of nearly a hundred heads, the palace security had at last grown somewhat stricter, and these barbed remarks of the Eternal Prosperity Sovereign ultimately did not reach the outer court.

Otherwise, a heap of remonstrating memorials and requests for audience would once again pile high upon the Emperor's desk.

For with the restoration of the Donglin faction, those gentlemen of unblemished reputation who had spent years in the wilderness yet still cherished the realm in their hearts had also begun arriving in the capital one after another. In their eyes, His present Majesty was indeed a Heaven-sent sage, a brilliant sovereign rarely seen in centuries.

Yet precisely because of this, they felt the weight of responsibility upon their shoulders all the more keenly.

His Majesty, after all, was young in his sacred person, raised deep within the palace, with no renowned master or great Confucian scholar constantly at his side to instruct him. In the classical canons and the arts of governance, his foundation was far too shallow. Thus in his conduct, though he displayed the might of a true dragon, he also often betrayed harshness, impatience, and even the arts of political stratagem.

This, in their eyes, was ultimately a deviation from the sage-king's path of centrality, rectitude, and harmony.

Such a brilliant and sagely sovereign was like a peerless piece of uncut jade.

If they failed to carve and polish it with the utmost care while he was still young, and to guide him onto the glorious and proper Way, that would be the greatest dereliction of their duty as his ministers!

Thus, one and all, their hearts were instead filled with fervor and anticipation, feeling that at last there was a use for the learning of a lifetime.

They poured all their heart and strength into constant remonstrance and ceaseless exhortation, resolved above all to assist this prodigiously gifted young Son of Heaven in becoming a sovereign praised through the ages like Yao and Shun, and thereby to fulfill their lifelong ambition of serving as "teacher to an emperor"!

Therefore, these grand ministers had no objection whatsoever to the New Policies, to reform, to the disputes over land and population, or even to the cadastral surveys and the reorganization of the petty clerks.

All these things ought to be done — indeed, they felt they were being done far too late!

Their sole objection was this: Your Majesty, you absolutely must not conduct affairs in this manner!

And in their eyes, the once-in-five-centuries young sage-sovereign, Zhu Youjian, felt about all this... only a profound suffocation.

In his own words to Gao Shiming: "This is simply bullying an honest man! Do you think they would dare say such things to my imperial great-ancestor?" Of course, the myriad beings under Heaven were naturally far from limited to just these two types.

Some people longed for the great snow to seal their doors shut, just the right excuse to warm wine by the brazier and steal a day of leisure.

Some shivered in drafty thatched huts, heartsick only that the household grain had run out and wondering how to get through the night.

Yet another man, displeased that his undertaking had barely begun before being abruptly cut short, braved the capital's swirling goose-feather snow and came in person to demand an explanation from his honored teacher.

Near Xuanwu Gate, in an ordinary lane, an unassuming three-courtyard residence stood quietly at the lane's end.

Its gray bricks and plain tiles bore no lavish ornament; to the eye it was no different from the home of any middling wealthy household in the capital.

A young official in a cotton-padded robe, holding an oilpaper umbrella, walked unhurriedly from the lane entrance and stopped before the residence's gate.

He furled his umbrella and gave it a light shake; the snow gathered on the canopy rustled down.

He stamped his feet, scraping the slush from his boot soles outside the gate, then stepped forward and gently knocked the door ring.

With a creak, the gate opened a crack. A gatekeeper poked his head out, his face still drowsy with interrupted sleep.

The young official drew a visiting card from his sleeve, presented it with both hands, and said warmly:

"I must trouble you to announce me. Your pupil Lu Xiangsheng has come to pay his respects to his honored teacher."

The gatekeeper had been about to put on a sour face, but at the name "Lu Xiangsheng" his eyes flew wide and his drowsiness vanished. Hastily he threw the gate fully open, bowed, and beamed. "Aiya! So it is His Honor Lu! Please, please come in — the master was just speaking of you!"

Lu Xiangsheng inclined his head slightly and stepped over the threshold. The gatekeeper was already scurrying ahead to lead the way, not daring the slightest negligence now.

In the courtyard the flowers and trees had long withered, a scene of bleak decay. Only in one corner, on a small cleared vegetable patch, a few rows of lush green spinach seedlings stood out strikingly. Several servants, holding umbrellas, were carefully using little brooms to sweep the snow gently from the seedlings and pile it to the side.

Lu Xiangsheng's gaze paused a moment on that patch of green, then he hurried on after the servant.

Entering the main hall, he was met by a surge of warm air that drove the chill from his body. His honored teacher, the current Chief Grand Secretary Huang Liji, dressed in a loose informal robe, reclined on a daybed heaped with thick cushions. On the low table before him a small stove warmed a pot of wine.

Seeing him enter, Huang Liji did not rise, only narrowed his eyes and smiled. "Jiandou, what kept you!"

"Your pupil greets his honored teacher." Lu Xiangsheng bowed with meticulous formality, performing the full salute.

"Enough ceremony — come, sit and warm yourself." Huang Liji waved a hand.

Only then did Lu Xiangsheng seat himself on the daybed opposite Huang Liji. A gentle warmth rose at once from beneath him, spreading in an instant through his limbs and every bone. This was the northern winter's most extravagant luxury — the heated brick bed.

He let out a long breath, then began to explain:

"The eleventh-day deadline approaches, and too many county magistrates are back in the capital to report on their duties. Your pupil went to the Ministry of Personnel to settle his assignment and stood in line for a long while — hence the delay." Huang Liji personally poured him a cup of wine and said with a smile, "No more idle talk. First, try this Jade Hall Spring."

Lu Xiangsheng raised the cup and drained it in one draught. Smooth and mellow, it suffused his whole body with ease. He praised it sincerely: "A fine wine indeed."

Huang Liji leaned back comfortably against his armrest, gazed out at the heavy snow beyond the window, and said leisurely, "Green-ant fresh-brewed wine, a little red-clay stove. Fine wine needs fine snow to bring out its savor."

Lu Xiangsheng nodded. "This snow truly is a good one. That dry snow a while back looked heavy but held no water. Now with this wet snow, at least the soil moisture for this winter and next spring is secured. If we get a few more soaking rains when spring opens, that would be better still."

"Indeed," Huang Liji sighed. "These past years the Northern Metropolitan Region has lurched between drought and flood; the common people have had it hard. If this year can yield a good harvest, the resistance to His Majesty's new policies will lessen considerably."

The two chatted a while about weather and farming, but in the end it was Lu Xiangsheng who could not contain himself and was first to steer the talk to serious matters.

"Honored teacher," Lu Xiangsheng set down his cup, his expression turning grave, "do you know why His Majesty suddenly recalled me to the capital?"

Huang Liji cradled his warm wine cup, slowly rubbing its sides with his fingers, but instead of answering directly he countered with a chuckle: "How did your assignment go? Today this old man had his regular rest day and has not yet seen the documents you delivered."

At the mention of official business, Lu Xiangsheng's eyes at once glinted with eager excitement.

"To answer my honored teacher, the matter of the Liaodong horse fodder was truly not difficult."

"Once I left the capital, I first ordered the main body of the accompanying Embroidered Uniform Guard to display their banners openly and proceed by the book, traveling only thirty li a day with great fanfare. I myself, taking only a few trusted attendants and several Guard officers, changed into plain clothes and rode hard, covering a hundred li a day, slipping into Yongping territory. I then traveled from county to county, seeking out honest and steady village elders and local folk to question in private."

"In barely ten-odd days, the various abuses and corrupt practices were as clear to me as the lines on my own palm."

A flicker of approval passed through Huang Liji's clouded eyes. He asked:

"Well? Did they differ from what you had already investigated in the capital?"

Lu Xiangsheng shook his head, his tone steady.

"In the end, the root of the sickness is the same everywhere under heaven. This Yongping, compared to Daming and Linqing Granary where I served before, held nothing out of the ordinary."

"The crux remains chiefly the graft of the underlings, with negligence by the local officials as a secondary factor — only, because military supplies are involved, military officers and grain commissioners are entangled in it as well."

"The underlings first use the pretext of collecting horse fodder to pile on levy after levy, far exceeding the legal tax."

"Take the capital region: regardless of the original court quota, each household is assessed one bundle — already several times what the court ordered. In Yongping it is even more appalling, reaching three bundles per household!"

"The extra fodder raised is not meant to pay the state levy but is sold off privately by the underlings themselves."

"They collude with the grain commissioners to fix a high price of fifty cash per bundle, prettied up with the name 'transport fee.'"

"Yet the actual transport is still conscripted from civilian households, at very little cost. The wealthy buy their way out; middling and poor households have nowhere to flee and are often ruined by it. In this way, the over-collected fodder and the falsely reported transport fees all flow into the private purses of the underlings and grain commissioners."

"The proceeds are then shared out to the various local chiefs under such labels as 'customary fees' and 'regulation fees.'"

"Officials at court and in the provinces care only that the horse fodder is delivered without incident — that suffices for their performance evaluations. Who among them would ever trouble to root out such abuses!"

Huang Liji listened in silence, his face betraying nothing. He merely raised his cup and took another shallow sip.

Lu Xiangsheng continued: "After I took up my post, I immediately displayed the royal mandate banners and summoned every chief official of Yongping's one department and five counties. I laid out the evils of the moment to their faces and strictly ordered each of them to arrest the culprits and recover the illicit gains. Within ten days, over a dozen ringleaders among the underlings had been clapped in chains and delivered."

He paused and glanced at Huang Liji.

"Thereafter your pupil employed the 'prisoner's dilemma' method you taught me in your letters. I separated the prisoners and questioned them one by one, and sure enough, more than twenty others were implicated."

"Those whose crimes were most heinous I had placed in the cangue outside the yamen gate as a public example; those whose offenses were lighter I ordered to redeem themselves through service."

"With this public demonstration of credibility, I then summoned the merchants and commoners and explained the new policy to win their trust. After that, everything fell into place."

"Your pupil renegotiated terms with the local merchants and with the steady, trustworthy men among the village heads. Henceforth, for all counties' horse fodder: that which the court taxes shall be delivered according to quota; for all fodder beyond the quota, if the local people wish to sell it, the government shall purchase it at seven cash per bundle. Then merchants shall be engaged, according to distance, to deliver it to the various passes, until it finally reaches Liaodong at a cost ranging from twelve to thirty-five cash per bundle."

He concluded with ringing finality: "In this way, the three million six hundred thousand bundles of horse fodder and one hundred eighty thousand taels of fodder silver originally memorialized by the Ministry of Revenue will in the end cost no more than seventy thousand taels!" The wrinkles on Huang Liji's face relaxed into a faint smile. He looked at him and said:

"That being so, with all matters settled and a great service rendered to the court, what is wrong with His Majesty summoning you back to the capital for commendation?"

"Why does this old man still see a look of unresolved discontent between your brows?"

"How can you say all matters are settled!" Lu Xiangsheng's brows shot up and his voice rose sharply.

"Yongping's horse fodder may now meet Liaodong's needs, but for the local people the burden remains heavy!"

"Your pupil trial-produced 'Yongchang coal' in Yongping. It is cheap, convenient to use, and far superior to burning straw for heating."

"If it could be promoted, the people could sell more of their horse fodder — increasing their income while lightening their burden. This is a matter that benefits both sides!"

"However, the abuses of the mine supervisors during the Wanli years have left a deep poison. Yongping in particular suffered greatly back then on account of its lead and iron mines."

"Thus, when your pupil discussed this with the local elders and gentry, they feared the court would use it as a pretext to reimpose mining taxes and dispatch mine supervisors again — in which case, far from gaining any benefit, they would only bring calamity upon the region."

"This student was exhausting every argument, trying to make clear to them that His present Majesty practices a new governance, unlike the old court, and would never resort to such a drain-the-pond-to-catch-the-fish affair."

"But their accumulated fear runs deep, their wariness is heavy. This matter was at the very critical moment of persuasion — this student was about to convene the people once more, lay out the benefits and harms, clarify the regulations, and set their minds at ease... only to be recalled to the capital in haste by this single edict!"

He spoke faster and faster, his eyes seeming to burn with flame.

"Setting that matter aside for the moment — the grass of Yongping alone is but a cup of water to a cartload of burning firewood!"

"To pacify Liaodong in ten years requires far more than a million bundles of horse fodder! I have not yet had time to rectify the entrenched abuses in Hejian and Shuntian prefectures. Using the grain tribute to carry horse fodder in summer and autumn to reduce transport costs — that too cannot yet be attempted because the canal is frozen!"

"With such a multitude of tangled threads, how can it possibly be called 'settled'!"

As Lu Xiangsheng spoke, he grew somewhat agitated and rose to his feet, pacing back and forth in the hall, warm as spring.

"My honored teacher! Better to give me one more year! One year to set things in order, one year to let them grow!"

"With the reclaimed fields of Yongping, Shuntian, and Hejian, supplemented by Yongchang coal replacing horse fodder for the common people's cooking fires, and with the grain tribute system used to reduce the cost of transport — by then, what would it be but three million bundles of horse fodder! What would it be but the funds needed for twenty thousand mules and horses!"

He halted abruptly, his blazing eyes fixed on Huang Liji, and said in a loud voice:

"Even if the court required thirty-six million bundles of horse fodder, and the funds for two hundred thousand mules and horses, this student is confident he could produce them with a flip of the hand!"

"When that day comes, one man with two horses, a hundred thousand iron cavalry pouring out of Yu Pass, driving straight in, sweeping across Liaodong! A mere Jianzhou barbarian chieftain — how could he not be crushed with a backhand stroke!" As his words fell, the hall fell utterly silent.

Only the silver-frost charcoal in the little red-clay stove on the table occasionally let out a soft crackle or two.

Huang Liji held that cup of wine, long since warmed through, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the cup's wall for a long, long time.

He raised his eyes and looked at this student before him, so full of high spirit, so keen-edged and undisguised, his clouded gaze filled with emotions too complex to name. The sharp edge of youth, ah...

That was a matter of many years ago now.

In the end, Huang Liji only smiled faintly.

"Jiandou."

"This old man knows what you wish to ask."

"It is true. It was this old man who advised His Majesty to recall you."

Hearing these words, Lu Xiangsheng showed not the slightest trace of surprise. He merely sat back down on the heated brick bed and looked intently at this man who presided as Chief Grand Secretary over the two capitals and thirteen provinces.

— This honored teacher who, six years ago at the Yingtian Prefecture provincial examination, marked him as a juren with his own brush.

— This honored teacher who had aided him so often during his posting at Daming Prefecture.

"This student begs his honored teacher to resolve this doubt!"

"Was it a joint petition of accusation by the local gentry?"

"Was it a remonstrance official reporting hearsay?"

"Or was it the military commanders and officers I am investigating, secretly sending men to pull strings?"

He suddenly leaned forward, his eyes locked dead on Huang Liji, and asked the final, most critical question:

"Just what kind of towering public outcry, what kind of heaven-reaching personal connections, could actually persuade His Majesty — make him, even at the cost of reversing his own edict overnight, forcibly sheathe a blade that had only just been sharpened!"