Chapter 365: Jiangdong

After the sacrifices were completed and the troops were settled, His Majesty attended a banquet prepared for him by the gentry and commoners of Yangzhou, and as everyone expected, he changed into a bright red robe and donned a futou headwrap, only omitting the stiff wings for ease of eating.

In other words, after his initial show of authority, the Emperor did not continue making trouble but instead immediately began fostering a spirit of unity between ruler and people.

However, while His Majesty refrained from causing trouble, he could not prevent the locals of Yangzhou from doing so—almost every dish and drink at the banquet had been contracted out, with someone stepping forward to explain each cup of wine and each course.

Of course, Sun and Wei could hardly be blamed for this, because the instigator was none other than Zhao Jiu himself.

About a year or more ago, when His Majesty had staged a similar affair in the Eastern Capital, he had auctioned off everything from official supplies to imperial titles in one go… so to speak, not only getting things for free but also charging for them… Naturally, the benefits were immediate; at the very least, Zhao Jiu had not worn the Retired Emperor's old clothes for last year's Mid-Autumn Festival sacrifice, the court officials had their own ceremonial garments, and even the fruits bestowed at the year-end banquet for the Privy Council ministers were far more abundant.

So how could Grand Coordinator Sun, trying to save money in response to the call, be blamed? Besides, in a certain sense, this was also a way for the sovereign to familiarize himself with local customs, a part everyone enjoyed.

In fact, at the start, these introductions were quite dignified… For instance, when a cup of wine was presented, the presenter would mention how many years his establishment had been a renowned tavern, and which poet had written verses about this wine; when fruits and vegetables accompanied the wine, he would discuss their origin and related anecdotes… And each time, the officials, scholars, monks, and Daoists present would trace the cultural origins.

On the other side, His Majesty was no fool; he would take a small sip and offer a few words of praise, which seemed harmonious and natural.

But suddenly, when a dish that looked very familiar to His Majesty was served, the atmosphere took a sharp turn.

"May it please Your Majesty, this Jianyan Imperial Duck is different from others elsewhere. First, it uses authentic wild duck from the Huai River region; autumn ducks are plump, the perfect season for hunting…

"Second, there are two secrets to the marination: one, the salt must be stir-fried beforehand to enhance flavor, which in turn tightens the skin; the other, the duck's belly must be stuffed with osmanthus flowers to make the meat fragrant and mellow…

"Finally, it must be simmered slowly over low heat; only then can the skin be tender and white, and the meat rich and moist…"

"Hold on, sir."

Zhao Jiu finally interrupted the man. "Jinling Salted Osmanthus Duck is famous throughout the land, with written records dating back to the Northern and Southern Dynasties. Yangzhou and Jinling are separated only by a river, so salted duck here is nothing unusual. But why call it… call it Jianyan Imperial Duck? Is there some story? Did the Empress Dowager bestow that name?"

"May it please Your Majesty."

This man, said to be a major silk merchant from the Huai Left region and a member of His Majesty's Royal Maritime Trading Company, immediately straightened up upon hearing this, then prostrated himself before the table and replied earnestly: "This duck is no ordinary salted osmanthus duck. It is named after Your Majesty's reign title not because of the Empress Dowager's favor, but because in the early years of Jianyan, when Your Majesty led the imperial army to block the Jin bandit Fourth Prince Wanyan Wushu at the Huai River, the gentry and commoners of Huai Left presented this item as tribute to Your Majesty. Hence its fame…"

Zhao Jiu was taken aback for a moment, then immediately broke into a smile: "Indeed, I remember now. There was such an incident. It was when Minister Lin of the Ministry of Revenue, now the head of that ministry, brought the ducks to Bagong Mountain. Minister Hu of the Ministry of Works ate the fastest. And though I also enjoyed them, I ate only half of one, thinking of the defenders at Xiacaicai on the north bank of the Huai, who lacked such delicacies… So that very night, I crossed the Huai specially to send the remaining half, along with Liu Guangshi's head, to Zhang Boying at Xiacaicai. Seven years have passed, and it feels like yesterday. I never expected this duck to come from your household?"

When His Majesty recounted that day's events, which among the attending officials, scholars, monks, and laymen lacked culture? They immediately thought of countless allusions, elegant verses, and poems to chime in with.

But someone was much faster than them!

"Your Majesty's words move this commoner to tears of gratitude." Amidst the stunned silence of the entire hall, the local silk merchant who had presented the duck kowtowed on the ground, tears and mucus streaming down his face. "When I first learned that my duck shop's products had been presented to Your Majesty, I was overjoyed. Later, hearing of Your Majesty's hardships on the Huai, I often sighed with worry for the nation… Thus, once the siege on the Huai was lifted, I invested to purchase all the duck shops that had supplied the imperial tribute, specializing in making Jianyan Imperial Duck. Who would have thought that today I could once again present this item to the imperial household? I… I am content for life."

Everyone was dumbfounded, but could only steal glances at His Majesty.

Unexpectedly, upon seeing this man's exaggerated performance, His Majesty showed no anger at all. Instead, under everyone's cautious gaze, he sighed deeply, then leaned on the table and replied:

"It is rare for you to have such a heart! But it is a pity that while the siege on the Huai has been lifted, the troubles on the Great River have not been resolved. Today, when I partake of this duck, I still feel as I did on Bagong Mountain back then—grateful for the loyalty of the Huai Left gentry and commoners, yet also thinking of the imperial camp soldiers who cannot enjoy it… A pity! A pity!"

"Your Majesty!" The man looked up hastily, then changed his expression and replied: "After this duck is marinated, if it is air-dried and kept through winter, it can be stored for several months. Though I am but a commoner, I have always harbored a desire to serve the nation. My family has some surplus wealth. I cannot do much, but before the New Year, I can send Jianyan Imperial Duck… I can send three thousand imperial ducks to the imperial camp army, to reward the soldiers!"

Zhao Jiu finally slapped the table: "With such ambition, how can you remain a commoner? You should be granted a title, and your sons should be given official status… After today's banquet ends, submit the names of two of your sons or nephews. If they are inclined toward letters, seek Grand Coordinator Sun's recommendation to enter the Imperial Academy; if they are inclined toward arms, seek Commander Liu's placement in the Imperial Guard!"

At this point, the Emperor paused briefly, then quickly added: "And if your household can still deliver three thousand imperial ducks this time next year, why should I not promote you further to a seat in the Privy Council?!"

The Huai Left silk magnate, who also managed the imperial camp's business, was overjoyed at these words and immediately kowtowed repeatedly in thanks.

And in the palace hall, under the rustling autumn wind, the many Huai Left luminaries grew increasingly wide-eyed and slack-jawed… They had never imagined that a proper Mid-Autumn imperial banquet, where His Majesty was supposed to appreciate local customs, would be infiltrated by such a shameless fellow!

Yet what was even harder for them to accept was that this shameless fellow's ridiculous and blatant behavior had actually won His Majesty's approval… He had truly been granted hereditary privilege and official status?

Was there no regard for traditional feudal morality?

If things could be done so directly, what was the point of their own posturing and pretension?

However, some turned their complicated gazes toward the expressionless Sun Jin, the Surveillance Commissioner… Commissioner Sun was a high-ranking official, a close minister dispatched from the imperial presence, and a confidant of the current Chief Councilor. If anyone knew His Majesty's style, it was him.

So since he knew, why couldn't he have given a hint in advance?

To give this first show… this first taste to oneself—surely one could have done it more elegantly and reliably than this duck seller! So-called 'buying a horse's bones with gold'—did it have to be salted duck? If one wanted a patron, one could be professional too!

Of course, regret was regret, but with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity at hand, no one cared about elegance anymore:

One said that during the Huai River resistance against the Jin, his family had wanted to provide support, but His Majesty had won too quickly, and they hadn't had the chance. They had regretted it for seven years and hoped His Majesty would give them an opportunity—they could provide three thousand sets of military uniforms, finished uniforms, not just cloth;

Another said that every issue of the official gazette, their temple organized study sessions, and they had long grasped His Majesty's guiding principles. But because the temple was poor and far away, they had never had a way to serve the nation… Nothing else—this autumn's harvest had just come in, and they happened to have five hundred bushels of new rice in storage. They could donate it directly to the official granaries, with another five hundred bushels next year. Moreover, they could contact other temples and monasteries to prepare military provisions for the soldiers accompanying His Majesty on this trip to Yangzhou;

Yet another said that his family had neither grain nor clothing, but they operated boats on the Grand Canal and the Yangtze River. They had noticed that the government's official boats were dilapidated, and they were willing to donate three large, black-painted, wide-bellied ships to the authorities, to facilitate the transport of official grain from the south to the north…

To these grateful representatives of the Yangzhou gentry and commoners, Zhao Jiu naturally expressed endless emotion. The one who donated clothes received even better treatment than the duck seller; the eminent monk from Great Ming Temple who donated grain was personally granted a Dharma name by the Emperor, and Great Ming Temple was awarded the exclusive outlet for the Green Sprout Loan in Yangzhou city; the one who donated three wide-bellied ships, being a local Yangzhou scholar, was directly granted the status of a Presented Scholar of the same rank and kept by the imperial side as a Secretary… though whether this was truly a case of 'buying a horse's bones with gold' or if he would be sent to the army upon returning to the Eastern Capital remained unknown.

But regardless, with the appearance of the Jianyan Imperial Duck, that layer of window paper was pierced, and the banquet instantly livened up by more than a notch, truly becoming a celebration shared with the people.

Over the following days, His Majesty followed the same pattern, receiving the sons and brothers of the gentry and commoners from both sides of the Huai River every day. One day he would taste some tribute meat floss (meat floss was invented in this era), the next day some tribute seafood, and the day after that he would go to Great Ming Temple to ring a bell and inscribe a calligraphy… Of course, he would inevitably take the opportunity to conduct some business similar to the imperial duck affair… In short, he remained in Yangzhou without moving.

It must be said that fortunately, Yangzhou was one of the great cities of the realm at the time, and the Empress Dowager had resided there for six or seven years, so the palace and such were still intact, and there was space to station the troops. Moreover, His Majesty's conduct was such that even after tasting the meat floss once, he paid it no further heed, so it could not be associated with extravagance… Yet even so, gradually, some unfavorable rumors began to circulate, saying that this Emperor, having endured hardship for so long, had finally come to such a splendid place and was momentarily reluctant to leave, like one who forgets his home.

Thus, by late August, when the Minister of State Lu Yihao, stationed in Hangzhou, once again sent an envoy to request His Majesty to cross south, and His Majesty still showed no intention of crossing the river, this finally made many people anxious.

On the twenty-fifth of August, two Jiangyin scholars, Li Tao and Su Bai, crossed the river to Yangzhou, which was separated only by a waterway, and submitted a memorial at the palace gate… Their content was varied and detailed, including advice to draw near worthy ministers and distance petty men, proposals to assemble the great ships of the southeast and strike directly at Youyan in the north, and suggestions to reform the official system… In response, His Majesty accepted their documents but did not receive them. Instead, he had the eunuch Shao Chengzhang clearly inform them that after he crossed the river, he would convene a political symposium with Minister of State Lu of the southeast, where the gentry and commoners of the southeast could all speak their minds in person. But as long as he was in Yangzhou, he would only discuss scenery and enjoy fine food, not talk about state affairs.

The two scholars had no choice but to turn back and return to Jiangyin, separated by only a river.

However, despite this, until the beginning of September, His Majesty still showed no sign of crossing the narrow river to the southeast, and the officials and people of the southeast grew increasingly restless.

Now, this day was the ninth of September, the Double Ninth Festival. Officials, nobles, scholars, and commoners all left the city to climb high places.

Fifty li northwest of Hangzhou, within Yuhang County, there was a mountain called Mount Jing, and on it a temple called Jing Temple. This temple was one of the five great Chan monasteries of the southeast. Although it was far less prominent at this time than Yangzhou's Great Ming Temple, it was still an ancient monastery over three hundred years old, with over a thousand monks and several hundred monastic cells. Moreover, since this mountain was located in the prosperous southeast, it was naturally the first choice for the people of Yuhang to climb high.

However, though all came to climb high, their treatment was vastly different.

When a retired high official from the vicinity arrived, the abbot would personally welcome him, and a secluded courtyard would be cleaned and prepared; when a wealthy householder who had donated a large sum of incense money arrived, a guest monk would certainly receive him attentively, making him feel as if bathed in spring breeze; as for ordinary male and female devotees, if they did not donate some money or silk, they would find it difficult to even enter for a cup of tea… It must be known that the tea of Jing Temple was itself a famous tea of the southeast; a single tea cake could be exchanged for an equal weight of gold.

Of course, there were some exceptions… For instance, some renowned scholars and famous Confucians who had a certain standing in the southeast, even if they donated not a single coin of incense money, if the temple did not prepare fine tea and clean rooms for them, they might well go out and spread word that Jing Temple was snobbish. If that got around, not only would retired high officials stop coming, but even the tea might become hard to sell.

However, among these, if the Master of the Unblemished, Zhang Jiucheng, came, there was unexpectedly no need for the guest monk to attend to him carefully, because whenever this man came up, he would always seek out the monk Dahui, who was originally from the Central Plains.

Today was no exception.

"Just past mid-autumn in the eighth month, now it's the ninth of the ninth. Only this one thing does not move, seen and heard by all." Seeing the nearly forty-year-old Zhang Jiucheng enter the courtyard with his hands behind his back and a furrowed brow, the monk Dahui, sitting under a tree in the yard, blurted out, though it seemed nonsensical… There was no help for it; he was a pioneer of the 'Huatou Chan' (keyword meditation) in the history of Chinese Chan Buddhism, and he relied on this chaotic mouth of his.

"What does not move?" Zhang Jiucheng asked as he sat down, looking up thoughtfully. "The sun does not move? Comparing His Majesty to the sun is quite apt."

"It's not just His Majesty. After more than twenty days, your furrowed brow hasn't moved either." Dahui immediately snorted in disdain.

"There's no help for it!" Zhang Jiucheng sighed in response. "His Majesty is like the sun in the sky, yet he does not act according to the seasons. How can we mortals not remain anxious and unchanged…"

Dahui sneered while fingering his prayer beads: "Bullshit!"

Zhang Jiucheng was startled for a moment, then laughed along: "Indeed, bullshit. In truth, His Majesty's actions are not surprising. Over the years, he has always acted without regard for seasons or rules… It's just that in previous years, he was far away. Now that he is unusually close, my heart is in turmoil."

"Throwing down the rope bed, today I raise it for the proclamation. The man behind the donkey and before the horse, beware of taking it on wrongly." Dahui once again spouted nonsense at random.

"I'm not taking it on falsely, but because I'm ultimately unwilling to accept it." Zhang Jiucheng replied solemnly. "His Majesty clearly has the look of a restorer, yet he refuses to accept Dao Learning..."

"His Majesty also refuses to accept tonsure, so how could I not be unwilling?" The Great Wisdom Monk sneered again.

"Your Buddhist learning has never achieved true fruition." Zhang Jiucheng was utterly speechless.

"Has your Dao Learning ever become a legitimate, prominent doctrine?" The Great Wisdom Monk sneered even more. "Never having obtained, how could there be loss? Never having lost, where does the unwillingness come from?"

Zhang Jiucheng fell silent for a moment.

Now, Zhang Jiucheng was about forty years old, the golden age for a scholar to enter politics, but he had never taken office.

Before, it was of course due to personal academic pursuits and contempt for men like Cai Jing; afterward, it was because the court had changed the established learning and abandoned Dao Learning. Indeed, this Master Wugou, a native of the southeast, was a disciple of the Dao Learning master Yang Shi, and an important figure in receiving Dao Learning as it moved south, considered a direct heir of the orthodox Luo School within Dao Learning.

However, to be fair, Zhang Jiucheng was not a pure Dao Learning disciple; he was also heavily influenced by Buddhist learning and had a deep interest in mathematics.

But regardless, this Master Wugou, in front of his close friend the Great Wisdom Monk, would not hide his thoughts. The two of them sparring with these Zen riddles, when translated into plain speech, was extremely simple... It was nothing more than Zhang Wugou, having heard that His Majesty was coming to the southeast, knew the opportunity was rare and wanted to use his status as a famous southeast scholar to once again advise His Majesty to accept Dao Learning.

However, even Zhang Jiucheng himself understood that His Majesty would most likely not accept it.

Only, his teacher Yang Shi had already been publicly rejected once, and several fellow disciples had also been publicly rejected. If he didn't take advantage of the chance when His Majesty Zhao came to reconcile with the southeast, using his identity as a local southeast scholar to try again, he feared the prospects for Dao Learning would become even more dim.

Therefore, he had to go.

But the courage he had finally mustered with great difficulty was shattered by His Majesty Zhao's sudden halt, leaving his mind in a tangle and his momentum gradually weakening.

Turning back to the present, the Great Wisdom Monk, seeing his good friend silent, put away his sneer, slapped his knee, and hummed in response: "New year strikes new drum, once spread new Dharma rain. All things renew from the new, each one follows the rule. Samantabhadra Bodhisattva rejoices, seizes the time to open the door. Releases the White Elephant King, nowhere to be found everywhere. Only this one, belongs not to old or new. Idly opening the mouth, swallows the Dharmakaya whole. Inside the thousand-year peach pit, is the original kernel of old."

The Great Wisdom Monk's word-head Zen wasn't that subtle; it was basically nonsense with a bit of metaphor. Zhang Jiucheng instantly understood his meaning but shook his head heavily: "I do this for the Way, not for fame or profit, and certainly not for factional strife!"

The Great Wisdom Monk shook his head completely: "You are pure yourself, but are all your fellow disciples pure? Even if your fellow disciples are pure, you are not pure!"

"How am I not pure?" Zhang Jiucheng was finally angered by his old friend.

"When all is said and done, aren't you still dissatisfied with the heavy land taxes in the southern countryside?" The Great Wisdom Monk replied solemnly.

"Is that selfish?" Zhang Jiucheng was furious. "Are the taxes on the southern commoners not heavy?"

"The northerners are all dead, so they don't need to pay taxes." The Great Wisdom Monk pressed his palms together. "You haven't seen the war disasters in the north, but I fled from the north during the Jingkang era..."

Zhang Jiucheng was momentarily lost for words.

And this time, the Great Wisdom Monk did not intend to stop there but continued to press: "What you should worry about is whether the taxes of the southern commoners are being embezzled by private individuals? Although you never went to Bianliang, you should trust your fellow disciples and those other officials. His Majesty lives frugally, five years of mulberry trees—is everyone really covering up for His Majesty?"

"I trust the Son of Heaven, but I don't trust those generals and soldiers." Zhang Jiucheng did not hesitate either. "Inside the thousand-year peach pit, is the original kernel of old... Greed and corruption like Zhang Jun are known throughout the land! Crudeness like Han Shizhong... when the Western Army suppressed Fang La back then, they caused more harm in the southeast than Fang La—was Han Shizhong not among them?! How did they turn around and become famous ministers and great generals? If the flesh and blood of Jiangnan must be used, it's better for the sovereign father to use it than to give it all to those Western Army officers!"

"If that's the case, then it should be done quickly." The Great Wisdom Monk replied with effort.

"Quickly means taking risks. What if we fail?" Zhang Jiucheng was not afraid at all. "Do you really want to argue with me?"

The Great Wisdom Monk closed his mouth and said nothing.

Seeing this, Zhang Jiucheng also found it boring, so he stopped the dispute that had erupted countless times before and left with a flick of his sleeve.

With his old friend gone, the Great Wisdom Monk was helpless and got up to see him off. The two parted only at the temple's front intersection. As the Great Wisdom Monk watched his old friend walk away gloomily, he couldn't help but open his mouth and recite a gatha.

As it goes:

"How like the One, do not vainly think.

Even if you pierce through past and present, it's still just a monkey's trick."

Turning around, just as he returned to the courtyard, he encountered the temple's abbot coming to see him. It turned out that the abbot, thinking the Great Wisdom Monk was from Dongjing and probably better at chanting sutras before His Majesty, had pondered and decided to ask the Great Wisdom Monk to emulate the eminent monks of Great Ming Temple. When His Majesty arrived in the southeast, he should go and seek some imperial blessing for Jingshan Temple.

The Great Wisdom Monk had been staying at Jingshan Temple for six or seven years, eating their food and feeling obligated. How could he refuse? He agreed readily.

However, after the abbot left happily, he couldn't help but recite another doggerel.

As it goes:

"Tear down the eastern fence, patch up the western wall.

Under Jingshan's gate, men have no standard.

Have a standard? Who knows it all?

The monk's hall peeps at the kitchen, the owl's beak bites the temple ridge."

And when evening came, this great monk recalled his day's experiences and wrote these doggerels into a collection, planning to publish it before his nirvana—that was another matter entirely.

Of course, leaving aside the matter of a perfectly good monk not chanting sutras all day but only using doggerel to meditate, a few more days passed. On the other side, His Majesty Zhao had delayed in Yangzhou for many days, so long that Great Ming Temple began to suspect His Majesty wanted them to support the three thousand soldiers, when he finally moved.

Indeed, as the saying goes: "Boundless falling leaves rustle down, Jingkou and Guazhou are separated by a single stream; the rolling Yangtze flows eastward, the autumn wind has passed the southern bank again..." His Majesty Zhao finally crossed the Yangtze River on the fifteenth day of the ninth month, under the gaze of the multitude, amidst the nearly boiling excitement of the southeastern gentry and commoners, and arrived at his loyal Liangzhe Circuit.

But what left the southeastern gentry and commoners utterly bewildered was that after crossing the river, this His Majesty, who had never liked following rules, still did not go to Hangzhou to see Lu Yihao, Prime Minister Lu. Instead, he stationed the bulk of the army outside Jinling City, then led only a few hundred cavalry lightly through Jiangning Prefecture westward, heading to Taiping Prefecture (present-day Dangtu and Wuhu area).

It was somewhat unexpected, but within reason.

After all, the current Prefect of Taiping Prefecture was none other than the former Duke of the Realm from the early Jianyan era, Li Gang, Li Boji.

Not only that, when the imperial procession arrived at Taiping Prefecture, those who came to greet him were not just Li Gang alone. There were also Yang Yizhong, the Commander of the Imperial Guard who should have been accompanying the imperial carriage; Hanlin Academicians Fan Zongyin and Lu Benzhong; Palace Attendant Ren Baozhong; Imperial Diarist Yu Yunwen; Secretariat Drafter Mei Li; and Imperial Library Secretary Zong Ying.

All of them came in plain clothes holding gold tablets, then directly paid their respects, each presenting a thick booklet.

"Is Your Majesty suspicious of this old minister?"

Li Gang, seeing these suddenly appearing imperial close ministers under his own jurisdiction, was momentarily shocked and angry. "So you had them secretly investigate?"

"If I suspected you, Duke Li, why would I need to send people to investigate?" After several years apart, facing the undiminished aura of Li Gang, Zhao Jiu was no longer the puppet he had been back then. He calmly closed the document in his hand, titled "Investigation of Autumn Taxes in Shuiyang Town," which was full of tables, and replied composedly.

Li Gang was momentarily stunned, then fell silent, and then grew dejected.