Chapter 349: Brush and Stylus Turned to Spears, Their Aim the Cauldron of State

The sweep of Chinese history is vast and mighty.

Through its cycles of division and reunion, unified eras of order fill the greater part of the annals, yet the chaotic ages of rival warlords carving out their domains are by no means short. Thus, dynasty after dynasty, when the empire's administrative divisions were redrawn, a certain ulterior design inevitably crept in.

The natural contours of mountains and rivers are, of course, the foundation for drawing boundaries — but interlocking territories like a dog's teeth, that is the true art of imperial control.

For instance, Sichuan's stubborn resistance caused no small trouble for the Mongol Yuan during their conquest of the Central Plains.

Therefore, after the early Yuan, the strategic pass region of Hanzhong — though its local customs and character are close to Shu — was administratively assigned to Shaanxi. This was the logic of cutting away its gateway to guard against it growing too powerful.

Again, in the Jiangnan region, something similar actually occurred.

After the Yangtze rounds Jiujiang, it flows roughly north to south.

The land east of the Yangtze was anciently called Jiangdong, or — perhaps from the perspective of sitting north and facing south — also called Jiangzuo.

This region, before the Ming dynasty, had always been a single integrated unit.

In the Qin and Han, the Qiantang River served as the dividing line between Wu Commandery and Kuaiji Commandery — what was known as the separate governance of Wu and Kuaiji.

That is what Zhuge Liang meant by "ally with Wu and Kuaiji to the east, and connect through to Ba and Shu in the west."

The territory of Wu Commandery was itself once divided by Lake Tai, with the land south of the lake carved out as Wuxing Commandery.

Only then did the saying arise: "Southeast, a land of scenic splendor; the metropolis of the Three Wu; Qiantang has flourished since ancient times."

By the Tang and Song, this area became Liangzhe Circuit or Liangzhe Route, with the Lake Tai and Wu Commandery region called Zhexi, and the Qiantang and Kuaiji region called Zhedong.

But regardless, the lands around Lake Tai, the Wu and Kuaiji region, had always been a closely bound administrative unit.

That is, until the founding of the Ming dynasty.

Zhu Yuanzhang established his capital at Nanjing and created the Southern Metropolitan Region.

Only then did it stretch north to encompass Fengyang, while also cutting away the southern Wu Commandery, merging Huainan and Huaibei, Jiangbei and Jiangnan, into one single whole.

Under this scheme, at the very beginning, Huzhou and Jiaxing — the two commanderies and counties near Lake Tai — were both cut away and placed within the Southern Metropolitan Region. (See attached map: early Ming Southern Metropolitan Region)

Only because, after these two places were cut away, Zhejiang province became far too small and its grain taxes could not sustain itself, were they returned.

So, if one truly speaks of cultural identity, the entire Southern Metropolitan Region plus Zhejiang actually comprises four distinct blocs.

The Huai River basin in the north is one small community.

Nanjing, Yangzhou, and the areas near the Yangtze are a bloc anciently called Danyang Commandery and Jiujiang Commandery.

Whereas Changzhou, Suzhou, and Songjiang actually belong with Huzhou, Jiaxing, Hangzhou, and Shaoxing in Zhejiang as a single Lake Tai rim community. And Jinhua, Wenzhou, and the rest of Zhejiang must be counted as yet other scattered communities.

It is precisely because of this misalignment between geographic divisions and historical culture —

that Geng Ruqi's small maneuver in promoting the new policies in northern Zhejiang could so easily cross provincial borders and stir up a boiling tide of public opinion in both Zhejiang and the Metropolitan Region. For rather than calling this the public opinion of Jiangnan, it would be more accurate to call it the public opinion of the Wu and Kuaiji region.

The officials and gentry of Fengyang, Yingtian, and the other areas are still watching Zhejiang's new policies with cold detachment, showing no inclination to enter the fray and declare their stance just yet.

(Attached note: I myself am a southern barbarian and don't know the Jianghuai feuds and affections all that well, haha. This understanding is a gentry network for the Zhejiang–Metropolitan Region area that I deduced from geography, Ming historical sources, and historical administrative changes. It should be broadly correct, but I don't know how much Ming reality differs from the modern day.) On the Grand Canal, the water shimmered with rippling light.

Zhang Dai and Qi Biaojia traveled north by boat along the canal.

Within a few days, they arrived at the borders of Suzhou Prefecture.

The site of this gathering of the various Jiangnan societies was precisely on Yinshan Lake, southeast of Changzhou County.

Here, an island rises within the lake, mountain and water nestling together, the scenery bright and charming — the finest summer retreat for men of letters and poets.

Yet the original organizer of this Jiangnan literary gathering was not Zhang Pu, Wu Changshi, or their associates.

It was Xiong Kaiyuan, the County Magistrate of Wujiang County, south of Changzhou County.

As for why a Wujiang County Magistrate would hold the gathering on the turf of neighboring Changzhou County — that is another rather intriguing piece of bureaucratic maneuvering. Changzhou's County Magistrate, Zhang Maowu, was a jinshi of the second year of Tianqi. Xiong Kaiyuan was a jinshi of the fifth year of Tianqi.

But although there was a distinction of senior and junior between the two, in their conduct they seemed entirely reversed.

Zhang Maowu, in Changzhou County, reduced corvée labor, quelled lawsuits and litigation, and strove to give the people rest and recuperation.

But such practices inevitably made things rather unpleasant with the local gentry — it was practically stirring up trouble for nothing, cutting himself off from the gentry of his own accord.

In contrast, the Wujiang County Magistrate Xiong Kaiyuan, though he passed the examinations three years later, thoroughly understood the principles of being a man and an official. After taking office, he loftily ignored the offending matters of taxes and corvée.

Every day, all he did was gather the scholars to study for the civil examinations and expound upon the classics.

Or he would exchange toasts and cups with the local gentry and notables — one could say it was all harmony and delight.

Especially after Zhang Pu, Xia Yunyi, and the others returned to their hometowns, the Wujiang district gained an added bustle, like flowers heaped upon brocade.

Although Zhang and Xia had failed the selection, Zhang Cai, Xu Qian, Jiang Can, and others had all been chosen like birds pecked from the screen.

Thus, the literary societies the two had formed gained a brand endorsement no less potent than that of a "gaokao Zhuangyuan."

So once they joined, Xiong Kaiyuan's enterprise of studying for the examinations was carried out with even greater fire and vigor.

In the end, Xiong Kaiyuan simply went with the flow, jointly funding the event with the gentry of Wujiang, Wu County, and Changzhou, and jointly signing his name with Zhang Pu and the others. They widely dispatched literary invitations, summoning the various literary societies from all around to gather at Yinshan Lake, forging this immense bond of good karma.

Changzhou's Zhang Maowu, Wujiang's Xiong Kaiyuan.

The divergent fortunes and choices of men, displayed here with utter vividness.

The winds at court shift and change; the tide of the new policies sweeps across the land.

Even the county magistrates right at the foot of the Son of Heaven in the Northern Metropolitan Region each have their own tricks — how much more so the magistrates beyond the Metropolitan Region?

Upon the great chessboard of the realm, the teeming masses scurry like ants.

The magistrates of the four provinces of North China are preparing for next year's new policies; the magistrates in the thirteen provinces fortunate enough to win pilot status are itching to act; and those magistrates mired in the murk of the old policies — could they possibly show no posturing at all?

Among them, there are magistrates of jinshi origin, magistrates of juren origin, and magistrates of tribute-student origin.

There are magistrates in their prime, charging ahead with vigor, and there are magistrates old and decrepit, seeking only a smooth path to retirement.

Facing the tide sweeping the realm, every man is making his own response.

To seek advantage and avoid harm — that is human nature.

To pursue merit and achievement — that is beyond reproach.

There is no right or wrong; each is merely a choice made within the great furnace of worldly affairs.

When the tide recedes, who can truly leap through the Dragon Gate and soar upon the whirlwind to the heights?

Their understanding of the times?

One's own talent and ability?

In the end, I fear what matters most is still the network of personal connections within officialdom.

From this perspective, although Xiong Kaiyuan is a junior, he has already pulled more than a step ahead of Zhang Maowu.

The two men abandoned the boat for horses and galloped at full speed along the official road, arriving at the shore of Yinshan Lake in a short while.

Leaving the horses in the care of a servant, the two promptly boarded a black-canopied boat by the lake.

The boatman pushed off from the bank with his pole; the small craft rippled through the lake's shimmering golden light as it drifted slowly toward the center of the lake.

At the bow, Zhang Dai was rather full of anticipation for the gathering.

"This time Yinshan has sent out invitations far and wide, reaching every corner of the realm north and south of the Great River — its reach is vast. I hear that even Ai Nanying of Yuzhang has come from afar." "I am truly curious, when all these famous scholars meet, what topics they will freely discuss."

Qi Biaojia shook his head without speaking, merely closing his eyes to savor the pleasure of the clear breeze brushing his face.

At these literary society debates, although they occasionally chat freely about state affairs, when scholars gather together, the hottest topic is surely still discussing the eight-legged essay and the examinations.

He had already passed the metropolitan examination four or five years ago and had rolled through officialdom once; naturally, he had no interest in such matters.

If he were to rekindle his interest, it would have to wait until his son was a bit older and beginning to practice the eight-legged essay.

After all, a momentary shift in the winds produces a momentary trend in examination essays.

Therefore, the crafting of examination essays must alter its approach according to the current situation; there is no principle that mastery in one era guarantees mastery in every era.

Had he not grasped this point, how could he have so easily passed the examinations in his weak-crown year?

Before long, the boat had reached the shore. Following the boatman's distant pointing, the two men found the path and entered.

Turning into a stretch of lush woods, they soon saw ahead, in a forest clearing, writing desks neatly arranged, with melons, fruits, wine, and water all provided. A crowd of scholars dressed in Confucian robes had already gathered.

The two had just drawn near, before they could even announce their names, when they heard a burst of extremely fierce argument from within the scene.

"What you say is a great fallacy! I absolutely cannot concur!"

A middle-aged Confucian scholar fiercely swept his robe sleeve and shook his head repeatedly.

This man was lean in frame, with slightly high cheekbones; standing amidst the crowd, he exuded a solitary, sharp, and overbearing presence.

It was precisely the famous scholar of the Jiangxi Yuzhang Literary Society, Ai Nanying.

This man came from a family of officials, and in his youth had been tutored by the renowned master of ancient prose and great dramatist, Tang Xianzu.

Distressed by the decay and vulgarity of the eight-legged essays in the examination halls, he therefore vigorously advocated a return to the prose styles of the Tang and Song to eliminate the ills of the examination eight-legged essay.

During the Tianqi era, he had already gained considerable renown throughout the realm north and south of the Great River, and was known as the Master of the Yuzhang Society.

But what truly caused his name to explode completely was an incident that occurred three years ago.

An incident connected to the struggle between the Donglin and the eunuch faction.

In the summer and autumn of the fourth year of Tianqi, it was precisely when Yang Lian submitted his memorial on the Twenty-Four Great Crimes, and the struggle between the eunuch faction and the Donglin was at its most intense.

And that year's provincial examinations, the autumn triennial, happened to fall in the eighth month, thus becoming an important arena for the two factions to exert their strength.

On the eunuch faction's side, their influence was only just beginning to rise, so there is no need to elaborate.

But on the Donglin side, many members had been appointed as chief examiners for the provincial examinations in various provinces.

While the court was voicing its stance, the localities naturally had to voice theirs as well.

Thus, some chief examiners directly declared their positions within the provincial examination questions, seeking to select outstanding talents who aligned with their ideals.

The Huguang chief examiners, Fang Fengnian and Zhang Yunru, set the policy question:

"Powerful eunuchs covertly obstruct, usurping authority and abusing power; the entire court attacks them in unison, yet none can remove them — what is the solution?"

The Zhejiang chief examiners, Chen Zizhuang and Zhou Zhigang, set the policy question:

"From the grand councilor down to the imperial favorite, and from the imperial favorite down to the eunuch, authority is increasingly lost, and its loss sinks ever lower; even an enlightened sovereign does not perceive it, for the momentum is inevitable. Thus it is said: the governance of all under Heaven is determined at its inception."

The Jiangxi chief examiners, Ding Ganxue (note: Ma Wenke's teacher at the Inner Palace School who was angered to death) and Hao Tugao, set the policy question:

"Today, the barbarians, bandits, eunuchs, military disasters, and the people's hardships — are they not all blazingly evident to all? What is the solution?"

The Shandong chief examiners, Xiong Fenwei and Li the Ji Garrison, set the policy question:

"The Legalists have a saying: the affliction of the ruler lies in trusting others, for then he is controlled by others... To distrust is to suspect others; to deem oneself a sage is to belittle and scorn others, and those who borrow authority will secretly usurp it. Does this saying not open the door to calamity?"

This was the most authentic factional strife of the Great Ming.

A single sheet of paper, a single brush — nothing could not be made into a sword.

Even the questions of the nationwide unified imperial examination could likewise be wielded as weapons of attack!

And Ai Nanying was precisely one of the outstanding talents selected by the Donglin in this round of provincial examinations.

Sitting for the Jiangxi provincial examination, he directly submitted a policy essay:

"The temporizing of Dongyang was already inadmissible; the self-purification of Jian and Qian — was that truly a sound strategy? Han Wen's proclamation of great righteousness — can it be entirely condemned?"

"Yet why was it that one like Yang Yiqing ultimately purged the monarch's side? Thus, to make manifest the past and proclaim the danger with sincerity — this is one form of precaution."

"Dongyang" refers to Li Dongyang;

"Jian and Qian" refer respectively to Liu Jian and Xie Qian;

Han Wen was then the Minister of the Ministry of Revenue.

Add to this the final figure, Yang Yiqing, who purged the monarch's side.

When all these examples are assembled, what they actually describe is the incident during the Zhengde period when the hundred officials and ministers united against Liu Jin and the Eight Tigers.

In fact, this was also the key reason Li Dongyang and Xie Qian received the posthumous title "Wenzheng." To reform and govern, to save the realm — like Zhang Jiangling — does not count as the highest achievement in the hearts of civil officials.

To remonstrate defiantly to the sovereign's face, to rise against the current in the midst of murky darkness, to sweep clean the monarch's side, to sever the beguilement of petty men, and to bring about the sage ruler's effortless rule — this is the highest achievement in the hearts of these civil officials! (Note: this argument does not represent the author's opinion.)

However...

Such methods were, in the end, still far too naive.

Among the many keys to the Great Ming's factional strife, what do government students and juren count for? What does the realm's public opinion count for?

Xu Jie, Gao Gong, and Zhang Juzheng have all proven it.

In the matter of factional strife, from beginning to end, the most critical thing is only one thing!

That is, one must seize the Emperor's favor and trust!

After that grand and tumultuous autumn provincial examination counter-offensive, the many chief examiners who had stuck their necks out were all silenced — some dismissed from office, some struck from the rolls, some thrown into prison.

And in the spring metropolitan examination of the fifth year of Tianqi that followed right after, Wei Zhongxian went even further, replacing most of the chief examiners with figures from the eunuch faction. As for Ai Nanying, who had been swept up in the storm and offered his pledge of allegiance, he was stripped of his juren degree and barred from the examinations for three cycles — nine years. Yet failure in the examination hall does not necessarily mean failure in the arena of fame and fortune.

Precisely because of this heroic gesture, Ai Nanying's reputation instantly became peerless across Jiangnan and beyond.

The man had always made it his mission to root out the abuses of the eight-legged essay, and now, all the more, he was haughty and disdainful, looking upon the rest of the world as beneath him.

In plain terms, the fellow has now become a bona fide opinion leader.

Ai Nanying let out an angry rebuke, his gaze sweeping over Zhang Pu and the others, speaking at a rapid clip.

"For prose that penetrates the classics and studies antiquity, one must use the vital energy of the Qin and Han to carry the principles of the Six Classics, the Analects, and the Mencius!"

"As for tracing the source, one naturally descends through and moves between Han Yu, Ouyang Xiu, Su Shi, and Zeng Gong!"

"These few are the true sons and grandsons of Qin and Han prose!"

Ai Nanying gave a cold laugh and pointed at the men from the left bank of the river opposite him, showing not the slightest mercy.

"And what of men today? Those who compose literary pieces have no idea what ancient prose even is!"

"Instead, they chase after the curiosities of the so-called modern ancient prose of Wang Shizhen and Li Panlong, thinking that suffices."

"Little do they know this is no ancient prose at all — it is merely florid verbiage modeled on the Six Dynasties, cut apart and patched together, then draped in the outer skin of the Records of the Grand Historian and the Book of Han!"

His tone seething with indignation, he continued to fire away:

"The words of the sages each have their time, each have their purpose."

"Yet today's examination essays insist on forcibly stuffing original phrases from the classics to fit the topics, even twisting their own meaning by force to cater to the classics."

"Specializing in only one classic yet misapplying the other four — and you still dare call yourselves 'revering the classics'?"

"I only fear that if the ancient sages could know, reading your essays would surely sicken them as filth and make them retch!"

"To what depths have the abuses of today's examination system sunk? One man advocates it, and everyone echoes him, until it becomes so putrid it is unreadable! All of this stems from emptiness, shallowness, and lack of learning!" "Reform, reform! Improve, improve! In the end, it is all nothing but pandering to the chief examiner's preferences!"

The so-called dispute between the left bank and the right bank of the river — between the ancient past, the Eight Great Prose Masters of the Tang and Song, and the recent past, certain Ming revivalists — had been going on for a long time.

On the surface it seemed a dispute over literary style, but in truth it was a struggle for scholarly prestige, for dominance of public opinion, and even for the power to dictate the trends of examination prose! Wang Anshi's reforms established the New Learning and made the New Meanings of the Three Classics the canonical texts for the examinations.

Zhang Juzheng's reforms, though he published no treatise, likewise pushed Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism heavily, vigorously suppressed the School of Mind, and banned and destroyed private academies across the realm.

These two men lived in different times and employed different strategies, but when you trace them to their root, the principle is the same.

Scholarship and power, under the Confucian system, can never be disentangled.

To seize Confucian power, one must also firmly grasp the authority over Confucian scholarly discourse.

Only the Yongchang Emperor's set of reforms is strange and peculiar, spinning in circles all day around practical matters, official documents, investigations, and performance metrics, yet always evasive and vague when it comes to scholarship.

At times he cites pre-Qin thinkers like Han Fei and Guan Zhong; at times the Jing Learning and Yongjia doctrines of the Song; at other times he invokes the reasoning of the Cheng-Zhu or Lu-Wang schools.

Of course, more often than not, it is those new policy terms and new policy concepts never seen or heard before.

Yet, for all their novelty, formulations like the contention between man and land, the way of science, and so on, still lack a grand unifying scholarly concept — truly leaving people unable to fathom this Emperor's approach.

But this matter, sooner or later, will ultimately have to be placed upon the desk.

So this present struggle between the two factions is not merely over old grudges of the past, nor merely over the pride of the moment, but over the far longer-term future.