Chapter 114: Appointing Officials According to Duty, Without Need for Words

In Wanshou Palace, only the emperor and his minister remained, one kneeling, one standing.

Xu Jie bowed his head in confession, openly pleading for pardon.

Zhu Zhu Yijun made no reply.

He abruptly changed the subject: "Master Xu, were you born in the ninth month of Hongzhi Sixteen?"

Xu Jie paused, bewildered, then hesitantly nodded.

Zhu Zhu Yijun's expression was unreadable as he spoke: "Then this year you turn seventy."

Xu Jie added: "Your Majesty, I have reached the age of seventy by traditional reckoning, though my actual birthday falls on the twentieth day of the ninth month."

Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed, moved: "To live to seventy has always been rare. Rise."

Xu Jie rose, puzzled, unsure of the emperor's intent in these questions.

Zhu Zhu Yijun ignored him and struck the imperial desk hard.

Li Jin stood waiting at the palace entrance; hearing the sound, he hurried in at once.

At the emperor's gesture, he pulled from his sleeve a scroll titled "Celebratory Ode for the Seventieth Birthday of Senior Tutor Cunzhai, Minister Xu," and handed it to Xu Jie.

Xu Jie stared in shock at the signature: "Disciple Ju Zheng respectfully presents," utterly at a loss.

Zhu Zhu Yijun shook his head: "Master Xu, months ago, the Chief Zhang Gelao entrusted this ode to me."

"He said, if you were to be executed in Songjiang, the Embroidered Uniform Guard should burn it before your corpse."

"But if I showed mercy and spared your life, I was to deliver this ode to you."

"The Chief Zhang Gelao said he felt ashamed to face his teacher."

"Master Xu, had it not been for his plea, you would never have reached Beijing. Yet yesterday, despite his predicament, you came to confront him."

"Ah…"

Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed and rose to leave.

He had, rarely, allowed sentiment to sway him—emperor though he was, even he could not escape human ties.

Though Zhang Zhang Juzheng appeared to distance himself, months ago he had already made his stance clear to me—he supported my decision, yet still wished for Xu Jie to pass his birthday in peace.

With his own master's words, Zhu Zhu Yijun could only go along with the tide.

Of course, after meeting Xu Jie, his thoughts had changed.

Xu Jie's talent, coupled with his outward compliance and inner resistance, only made Zhu Zhu Yijun more determined to win his true submission.

He glanced back at Xu Jie, lost in thought, then turned and departed.

Xu Jie held the ode in hand, his expression complex.

Yesterday he had thought his disciple cold and heartless; he had not expected the man had already pleaded for him.

Yet he himself had shown no regard for his disciple's difficulties, coming to harass him.

Now, with the emperor's mercy, his emotions churned even more.

Xu Jie's heart swelled as he slowly opened the ode and began to read: "In my youth, when I studied the imperial archives, you were my teacher…"

What followed were memories of their master-disciple bond, the transmission of the Dao, and birthday wishes.

Though the content was typical for a birthday ode, the fact that it was penned by the sitting Chief Zhang Gelao, sincere and heartfelt, stirred deep emotion.

Especially recalling his disciple's coldness yesterday, Xu Jie now felt every word as a quiet torment.

He truly was a fine disciple.

Xu Jie murmured to himself, then turned the page.

"Ju Zheng once said: A true scholar's duty is to honor the sovereign, protect the people, establish enduring institutions, and secure the state. Some achieve this through personal action; others, without personally acting, still cause their principles to spread across the land and their benefits to reach all living beings. I believe only my teacher embodies both…"

Xu Jie read to the end, then gently closed the ode.

No wonder the emperor delivered it—it was meant as an intermediary's plea, urging him to "honor the sovereign, protect the people."

Xu Jie sighed.

He had no grounds to blame Zhang Zhang Juzheng; though the man had perhaps underestimated him, he could not deny the sincerity of the gesture.

Yet Zhang Zhang Juzheng's dual role—as petitioner and mediator—meant that should Xu Jie offend the emperor again, he would inevitably drag Zhang Zhang Juzheng down with him, damaging his imperial favor.

This debt of favor was immense.

As Xu Jie finished reading the ode and looked up, he saw the emperor was already gone.

He turned to Li Jin, his gaze inquiring.

Li Jin gestured for Xu Jie to rise and whispered: "Senior Tutor Xu, His Majesty is heading to Zhao Wenhua Palace. He bids you accompany him."

Xu Jie froze, then, lost in thought, allowed Li Jin to help him outside to wait.

Soon after, Zhu Zhu Yijun emerged from Wanshou Palace with Zhang Hong.

He glanced at Xu Jie: "Come. We'll speak on the way—I'm going to the court assembly today."

Many matters required discussion at today's court assembly; Zhu Zhu Yijun had to attend in person.

Especially the prisoner exchange and the Tumens' request for rewards—both tied to large-scale military affairs, he needed to state his position clearly.

Also, the silver brought back by Hai Rui, half of which he and Zhang Zhang Juzheng had secretly divided, required his public endorsement before the Grand Secretariat.

Furthermore, rewards for Hai Rui and others in their investigations, and the debate over yesterday's ancestral rites, demanded his presence.

Busy.

Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed as he walked ahead; Xu Jie followed silently.

After walking a while, the former returned Xu Jie's "Memorial on Five Great Evils of the Realm," his voice toneless: "Master Xu, you listed five evils—do you have sound remedies?"

Xu Jie's five evils—official corruption, land consolidation, taxation, Japanese pirates, and Tartars—struck at the heart of every crisis; truly worthy of a Chief Zhang Gelao's insight.

Though perhaps motivated by survival, his list was sharp enough for Zhu Zhu Yijun to want to hear his solutions.

Xu Jie opened his mouth to deliver his prepared remedies, then stopped.

He had remedies—more than one, like the upper, middle, and lower strategies of ancient strategists—all sound.

But some remedies were meant for action; others, only for listening.

To survive, he had prepared the latter.

But now…

He glanced at the emperor's back, recalling their earlier exchange and his disciple's plea.

The young emperor carried himself with dignity; he had no reason to fall short.

Moreover, if the emperor believed empty, impractical remedies, Xu Jie might gain favor—but his true-doing disciple would suffer.

After much internal deliberation, he decided to offer real, actionable solutions.

Xu Jie spoke slowly: "I dare not deceive Your Majesty. I believe these five evils must be addressed in order, but each has a prerequisite."

"To pacify the northern Tartars, I have methods—whether through tribute agreements or relocating scholar-gentry to the frontier—but the precondition is that we must first annihilate all warlike Tartar tribes; otherwise, any plan is a castle in the air."

"As for the Japanese pirates, forgive me, but though everyone knows the core issue lies within our borders, we must first destroy the pirates overseas before we can turn inward to clean house—otherwise, we will be drained to death."

"Both require major wars, and only when state finances are sufficient can victory be assured."

"But insufficient finances stem from landholdings and taxation."

"And if Your Majesty truly intends to reform landholdings and taxation, you must first reorganize officialdom."

Merely purging salt monopolies, tea taxes, or horse markets is merely treating symptoms.

Even if each purge brings in a large sum, it is like adding fuel to a fire.

Only by reforming the tax system and surveying landholdings can the fiscal crisis be temporarily resolved.

Then, using this window, we can build the state treasury until it can fund several major wars, finally eliminating northern and southern threats.

Yet reforming the tax system and surveying landholdings demands officials who can act with perfect obedience.

The logic is sound, but the obstacles are obvious.

Even if we reach this point, it remains only a temporary fix.

Xu Jie glanced at the emperor's back, his thoughts swirling.

This step still lies ten thousand miles from the emperor's goal of curbing land consolidation and resisting the cycle of seasons.

He wondered if he would even live to see that day.

Zhu Zhu Yijun's face briefly showed a smile—this approach aligned perfectly with his own.

He turned to Xu Jie: "So, Master Xu, you think the Performance Evaluation System is insufficient?"

Since he mentioned officialdom, he could not offer hollow excuses—he must have his own insights.

Xu Jie nodded: "Your Majesty, the Performance Evaluation System can compel officials, but two other problems remain grave threats to our dynasty."

Zhu Zhu Yijun signaled him to continue.

Xu Jie paused, then said: "First, our officials' terms are far too short!"

"Often, they are transferred or promoted within one or two years—even newly appointed officials receive their transfer orders mere days after arriving at their posts."

"Take the Right Administrator of Shandong: from February 1570 to December 1571, in just ten months, five men—Chen Zan, Xu Shi, Tao Chengxue, Chen Jiang, and Cao Ke—held the post!"

"Each served only a few months; they had no time to implement policy, let alone understand local conditions!"

"Superiors know nothing of local realities, rushing through their records before leaving; subordinates remain entrenched like ancient roots—this is one reason the center has lost control over the provinces."

"Secondly, there is another issue."

"When our superiors recommend subordinates, and those subordinates fail, the superiors are held accountable."

"People naturally seek benefit and avoid harm, Your Majesty—when a subordinate fails, this forces superiors to shield them, and subordinates to curry favor."

"Such official cliques breed endless harm."

Zhu Zhu Yijun frowned deeply.

He had not known this—over the past year, he had merely observed governance and interfered not with the Six Ministries; he had paid little attention to official tenures.

Only a few months!?

In a few months of tenure, they haven't even held a single democratic life meeting—what good is being provincial top leader?

As for this system of collective liability in recommendations, he had heard something about it, but didn't know the specifics.

Zhu Zhu Yijun suddenly realized he was precisely in need of an elderly minister, familiar with the state's institutions, always available for consultation.

After all, he had not yet assumed personal rule; the state's operations could not possibly be fully understood in every detail.

Under these circumstances, the role of elderly ministers like Xu Jie became critically important.

He had originally planned to send Xu Jie away, but now he hesitated.

Zhu Zhu Yijun temporarily set aside this thought and refocused on the matter before him.

He did not immediately respond, but asked: "What does Minister Xu mean—that if the recommended person is incompetent, the superior shall no longer be held liable?"

"If so, wouldn't recommenders pay even less attention to virtue and talent during nomination?"

If nominators bear no responsibility, won't they simply recommend their own students and former subordinates at will?

The harm may not be less than the old system—this is the dual nature of things.

To his surprise, Xu Jie shook his head: "Your Majesty, since the Performance Evaluation Law is already in place, isn't ability already clear?"

"In my view, a minister's recommendation is inferior to three years of excellent performance ratings."

Zhu Zhu Yijun froze, glancing at Xu Jie in surprise.

He knew this method all too well.

Back when he was seeking promotion, those "excellent" ratings had tormented him endlessly.

Xu Jie continued: "Thus, tenure terms gain clear criteria—for example, promotion to fifth rank requires three years of excellent ratings, third rank requires five years, and so on."

"Combined with review by the Six Censorates, verification by Censors, and deliberation by the Ministry of Personnel, the system can gradually be perfected."

It would dismantle the culture of recommendation-based cliques; even low-ranking officials without patronage networks would have something to aspire to—isn't that an improvement?

Zhu Zhu Yijun seized Xu Jie's hand and pulled him to walk beside him.

He sighed: "Minister Xu, you are truly a great talent—no wonder you are my trusted pillar."

"Send the memorial to the Grand Secretariat immediately—they must deliberate thoroughly."

Indeed, those who have been rained on wish to steal others' umbrellas.

The flaws and remedies Xu Jie described may not have been unthought-of before.

But back then, everyone ate from the same pot—who could bring themselves to smash it? After all, the power of recommendation lay in their own hands.

Now Zhang Zhang Juzheng seeks to rebuild the Great Ming with the Performance Evaluation Law.

And Xu Jie, forced into purity, proposes performance-based promotion.

If promotion mechanisms could truly be made transparent, this stagnant pool of officialdom might ripple with change.

Even if future rulers abolish the policy, it would still provide a direction for posterity to follow.

Naturally, the resentment should fall upon Xu Jie.

Zhu Zhu Yijun gazed at Xu Jie with satisfaction, showering him with a stream of praise.

As if he himself had never humiliated the old minister.

He thought: "Minister Xu, I originally planned to grant you a higher title and let you retire to Songjiang, but now I cannot bear to let jade hide its light."

It was only words—he had originally intended to send Xu Jie to Fujian, to oversee the Maritime Trade Bureau and maritime transport with Yu Yu Dayou.

But now it seems: an elder in the house is like a treasure—better to keep him at the center, ready for consultation.

"Minister Xu, remain in Beijing!"

"You have rendered service in this case in Nanzhili, but if I were to enfeoff you as a Duke of the Three Excellencies, the Zhang Gelao would surely accuse me of putting you on the fire."

"Instead, Xu Fan, former Assistant Director of the Temple of Rituals, is also a pillar of state—grant him an Yinguan title! Bring him to Beijing, so the family may reunite."

"As for housing, don't worry—there's an empty residence in Xilu Alley, Nanxun Lane; I bestow it upon you."

"But… you are a former Chief Zhang Gelao; I cannot assign you an actual post. Could you accept the humble role of Head of the New Academy? It's near your residence, just outside Donghua Sect—what do you say?"

Xu Jie stared at Zhu Zhu Yijun in shock—he had never seen an emperor change his expression so swiftly!

Who, unaware, could imagine that this Holy Monarch had ordered the execution of his own second son mere months ago, and barely half an hour ago had looked ready to kill him?!

Yet this shock was not revulsion—it stirred a deep admiration.

This is the very quality needed to accomplish great deeds!

Before rising to power, Emperor Emperor Gaozu of Han didn't even bring gifts to banquets; if he didn't give, he'd shout at the gate, "I present ten thousand coins!"—embarrassing and brazen.

When Emperor Taizu of Song was destitute, he sat down in a melon shed and ate without payment, then declared he'd repay later—unabashedly shameless.

How shameless!

But shamelessness is precisely right!

This isn't the brazenness of common folk—it's the grand ambition that disregards petty conventions!

Though the Emperor is young and lacks such heroic audacity, he has shown a glimmer of it.

With time, he may yet match the Two Ancestors of Han and Song.

This behavior of the Emperor impressed Xu Jie more than his earlier impassioned speech in the hall.

Zhu Zhu Yijun continued: "Remain in Beijing, ready for consultation."

Before Xu Jie could even respond, the Emperor had already decided—leaving him speechless.

Xu Jie sighed and bowed respectfully: "Your servant obeys."

He understood: his recent conduct had been excessive, making the Emperor not only spare his life but now expect him to serve with utmost devotion.

Yet… surprisingly, he felt no regret.

On the contrary.

Though he knew he could never re-enter the core of power again, the sensation of once more touching the highest authority of the state—however merely as a consultant—was intoxicating.

Retire to the countryside?

To glimpse the center once more—that is the truest retirement!

Zhu Zhu Yijun glanced at Xu Jie and said casually: "Since you've accepted office, perhaps during the next court session you might speak up, so court ministers know you've returned to Beijing."

Xu Jie knew full well the Emperor was setting a trap.

But he did not resist—he asked: "Please, Your Majesty, instruct me."

Zhu Zhu Yijun shook his head: "It's not that I wish to give orders."

"But lately, many nobles have committed crimes, and censors have impeached them—yet my mother has shielded them all, holding the memorials back. As her son, I cannot intervene."

"I believe your virtue and prestige are great enough to persuade my mother."

There was no choice—these nobles were all kin.

These past days, his mother, his aunt, the Imperial Sons-in-Law, and several Dukes had all come begging for mercy.

Even the Emperor could not hold them off.

Xu Jie played along: "Crimes?! Nobles must abide by Great Ming law! Even if pleading, they should be judged under the Eight Privileges—how can memorials be simply held back?!"

"Please, Your Majesty, tell me who these men are and what crimes they committed!"

On the surface, he spoke with righteous indignation; inwardly, he probed the Emperor's intent.

Zhu Zhu Yijun remained silent.

Instead, he nodded to Zhang Hong.

Zhang Hong immediately pulled out a book from his sleeve.

Zhu Zhu Yijun took the book and said: "Though I do not interfere in governance, Li Li Zaiting has already reported to me—I've made a brief record."

Upon hearing Li Li Zaiting's accusations, Xu Jie instantly realized this was a staged performance.

Zhu Zhu Yijun opened the book, cleared his throat, and read: "Hui'an Marquis Zhang Yuanshan and Cheng'an Marquis Guo Yingqian are incompetent."

"Nanning Marquis Mao Guoqi has perverted the law."

He finished the page, licked his finger, and turned it: "Xiangcheng Marquis Li Li Yingchen is licentious, reckless, and has imprisoned and abused officials."

"Zhao Zhao Zuzheng, Commander of the Red Helm Generals, is guilty."

Here, Zhu Zhu Yijun added: "Also, the former Prince of Qin, Mu Mu Chaobi, previously punished and confined to Nanjing."

"But after the new year, the provincial inspectors of Yunnan discovered that the woman he raped—his sister-in-law—is now pregnant!"

"Now there is renewed debate over his punishment."

Whether the rape resulted in pregnancy or not made a difference.

It was, effectively, an aggravating circumstance.

Xu Jie mentally linked these nobles together.

He outwardly agreed solemnly, while inwardly pondering the Emperor's purpose.

The Emperor continued: "Also, Yang Bing, Marquis of Zhangwu—though his crimes are not yet clear, they may exist."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Xu Jie understood!

The Emperor was paving the way to reorganize the Capital Garrison!

Mu Mu Chaobi was to be the chicken sacrificed to warn the monkeys.

The preceding nobles were likely useless officers of the Capital Garrison Academy, the Capital Garrison, and the Ministry of Military Affairs—too entrenched to remove, so let Xu Jie take the blame!

And Yang Bing, former Commander of the Capital Garrison, was even more obvious!

Zhu Zhu Yijun watched Xu Jie silently, waiting for his reaction.

As someone had suspected, this move was indeed to reorganize the Capital Garrison.

To survey land and reform taxation, how could he proceed without a reformed Capital Garrison?

These civil ministers would deliberately overlook it—but he had never forgotten.

For these past days, he had been instructing Gu Gu Huan to reorganize the Capital Garrison—but there had always been obstacles.

The quality of the Beijing garrison officers is far too poor!

It's exceedingly rare for the noble families to produce even a few capable men.

Men like Gu Gu Huan, who excel in both civil and military affairs, or Zhu Zhu Xizhong, who is shrewd and calculating, are truly few and far between.

Most are nothing but stupid, pig-like wastes, spending their days in brothels and theaters.

The Beijing garrison is precisely where these scoundrels gather in droves.

Their presence in the military camps causes even greater harm: they won't even allow others to train, instead gathering in groups to brawl and gamble, corrupting the entire camp's morale.

You want to kick them all out, yet they're deeply entrenched with powerful roots.

Gu Gu Huan sent men to summon them for roll call, but each time they were driven out by the men's own families.

Among them was his maternal uncle, Li Wenquan.

The rest—dukes, marquises, imperial sons-in-law, aunts—you name it, there's no end to them.

These past days, Gu Gu Huan has been severely reprimanded by the Two Palaces and dares not act rashly.

Zhu Zhu Yijun couldn't possibly spend every day scolding and reprimanding these petty nobles.

In the end, the training drills were abandoned altogether.

After final deliberation, it was time to arrest a few nobles as a warning to others—political signals must be made clear.

Originally, they planned to make Zhang Zhang Juzheng the villain, but since they now have no intention of letting Xu Jie go… here was a better choice for the villain.

Xu Jie glanced at the emperor, suppressed his emotions, and said: "Your Majesty, to apprehend lawbreakers is my duty—I shall impeach them in the palace hall shortly!"

He paused, then added: "Yet in my view, with so many generals and deputy secretaries of the Imperial Household Office neglecting their duties, the Ministry of War cannot escape blame either."

Impeaching the nobles might stir discontent among the Two Palaces and the royal princes, but they lack the power to retaliate—so Xu Jie agreed without any moral hesitation.

As for the Ministry of War, this was clearly a test of the emperor's intentions.

At this, Zhu Zhu Yijun stared at Xu Jie in astonishment.

Could he be this perceptive!?

Not only did he perceive the emperor's intent, but he immediately turned around and sacrificed the Ministry of War too!

Excellent—truly a loyal minister.

Zhu Zhu Yijun praised: "Minister Xu, you are indeed fit to serve as my advisor. I shall remember this act of plugging the leaks and filling the gaps—later, I shall grant your third son a hereditary title."

"Later," of course, meant after Xu Jie had truly accomplished the task.

Both understood without speaking.

Xu Jie felt again that strange sensation—several retired Grand Secretaries now seemed to be dragged out one after another by this young emperor, forced to exhaust themselves to the last drop—truly, every resource was being fully utilized.

A hint of amusement flickered in Zhu Zhu Yijun's eyes as he casually glanced at Xu Jie—this Senior Tutor, still clinging to his post like an old steed, might yet bear even heavier burdens in the upcoming court deliberation?

(End of Chapter)