Chapter 12: The Great Evils of the Realm: Struggles Over Power and Prestige

The Great Ming is about to fall.

Zhu Yijun naturally knew this—not only did he know it, he knew exactly which year it would happen, and to him, it was no news.

But coming from Zhang Juzheng’s mouth, the implication was entirely different.

Is this statement taboo? Of course not.

In fact, after the turmoil caused by his grandfather, the Jiajing Emperor, such voices were everywhere in court and country.

Indeed, this very sentiment was the soil for reformists!

Why did Xu Jie and Li Chunfang successively fall from power? Why are the current Grand Secretary and Deputy Grand Secretary both reformists?

Because the Great Ming’s urgent internal and external pressures have become impossible to ignore—the patchwork repairmen can no longer keep pace with the tide of enlightened minds.

Under this backdrop, reformists’ memorials all routinely warn that the Great Ming is about to collapse.

In Longqing’s first year, Grand Secretary Zhao Zhenji submitted a memorial stating: “Though we have the name of peace and order, we lack its substance; there are no immediate crises, yet the logic of collapse is present.”

Gao Gong’s memorials likewise contained phrases like “The realm has reached a time of peril and ruin.”

Zhang Juzheng himself had a prior record: in his “Memorial on Six Matters,” he wrote, “The realm has reached a point where reversal is exceedingly difficult.”

To say “the Great Ming is about to fall” is far more palatable than Hai Rui’s outright accusation that the whole realm despises His Majesty.

But if one may say it, why are you, Zhang Juzheng, saying it to a ten-year-old child who holds no power?

Will it bolster your standing, or help you succeed Gao Gong as Grand Secretary?

Zhu Yijun could not fathom Zhang Juzheng’s intentions, so he carefully concealed his confusion.

He feigned surprise: “Your Excellency, why speak such words!?”

Zhang Juzheng bowed in apology.

He cleanly pulled three scrolls from his sleeve and offered them with both hands: “These are what I compiled after a night’s labor—Your Highness will understand at a glance.”

Zhu Yijun, puzzled, gently took them: “What are these?”

Zhang Juzheng did not delay: “Your Highness, from Hongwu’s reign to now, population, land, and tax figures are roughly listed here—please review.”

Zhu Yijun unrolled them and glanced briefly.

Indeed, they contained population, land, and fiscal revenue figures from the dynasty’s founding to the present.

He did not examine them closely; instead, he closed them and blushed: “Your Excellency, I am young and lacking in virtue—I cannot comprehend these.”

Zhang Juzheng paused, then spoke slowly: “Your Highness, look—how much land did we have at the dynasty’s founding?”

Zhu Yijun reopened the scroll and followed Zhang Juzheng’s finger.

He found Hongwu’s early years and said: “Your Excellency, it was over 370 million mu.”

Zhang Juzheng prompted gently: “And now?”

Zhu Yijun asked, puzzled: “Over 460 million mu. Your Excellency, what’s wrong with that?”

He did not know if Zhang Juzheng was testing him, so he pretended ignorance.

Zhang Juzheng sighed deeply: “Your Highness, at the founding, the land was shattered; now, after decades of peace, the total has barely changed—that is the problem.”

Zhu Yijun exclaimed: “But that’s an increase of 90 million mu! How can you say it barely changed?”

His eyes, bright and eager, fixed on Zhang Juzheng.

Zhang Juzheng fell silent for a moment, then said: “Your Highness, during the Hongzhi era, land totaled 800 million mu.”

The Hongzhi era spanned 1488 to 1505—exactly a century after the founding.

Zhu Yijun suddenly realized, looked to the corresponding date on the scroll, and gasped: “From Hongzhi to now, seventy-two years of peace—and land has decreased!?”

Zhang Juzheng nodded.

Zhu Yijun pressed: “Your Excellency, how is this possible? Has the land been abandoned?”

He feigned ignorance.

Zhang Juzheng shook his head: “Your Highness, it is not abandonment—it is consolidation. It is concealment of land.”

He spat the words out, teeth clenched.

“When commoners face famine and cannot pay taxes, they mortgage their land to powerful families. If they cannot repay, the land is seized, and they become tenant farmers.”

“The powerful families, having seized the land, conceal it to evade taxes.”

Zhu Yijun was stunned: “Land consolidation and tax evasion? Why do the authorities not arrest them!?”

He asked the question, yet barely suppressed a laugh.

He understood perfectly.

Land consolidation—he knew it well.

In life, two things are unavoidable: death and taxes.

But for these powerful entities, two others are: consolidation and tax evasion.

Arrest them? The very idea would make anyone laugh.

These acts are protected by local officials—traditionally split three to seven.

Not to mention arrest: even central officials sent to survey land faced mild sabotage—files “lost”—or worse, their lodgings mysteriously burned.

Could Emperor Guangwu of Han restore the Han dynasty and survey land? Surveying land was harder than conquering the realm!

Hence, why does the center turn a blind eye?

This is not one garrison or one prefecture—it is the entire realm doing this!

The difficulty of governing the realm lies here: you are in me, I am in you; pull one hair and the whole body trembles—who dares intervene? Whoever does is at war with the entire realm!

And who are “the people of the realm”? The definition belongs to them.

Zhang Juzheng did not directly answer why authorities did not arrest tax evaders.

Instead, he sighed and pointed to another scroll: “Your Highness, this scroll contains population figures through the ages.”

Zhu Yijun tactfully dropped the previous topic and opened the next scroll.

Zhang Juzheng said: “Your Highness, examine Hongwu’s household and population numbers.”

Zhu Yijun found the entry and read: “In Hongwu’s reign, households: ten million; population: fifty-eight million.”

He had not known this before.

He was more familiar with the Qing-era phrase: “four hundred million compatriots.”

But fifty-eight million versus four hundred million—that was a vast difference.

Thinking this, Zhu Yijun, without waiting for Zhang Juzheng, found the current figures: “In Longqing’s sixth year, households: ten million; population: sixty-two million.”

He looked up, astonished: “Population has grown so little since the founding!?”

He subtly demonstrated his intellect, drawing inference from one example.

“Your Highness is exceptionally wise,” Zhang Juzheng praised, then added: “In the second year of Yuanshi of the Western Han, population was fifty-nine million.”

Yuanshi’s second year was the end of the Western Han—over a thousand years ago.

Zhu Yijun asked humbly: “Your Excellency, is it because when commoners become tenant farmers, powerful families conceal their population?”

The Great Ming now levies head taxes.

Commoners cannot evade them, but powerful families can.

Colluding with local officials, they report only three-tenths of the true population—and that’s being honest.

Zhang Juzheng bowed deeply: “No ruler could be wiser than Your Highness.”

Zhu Yijun hurriedly helped him up, sighing: “I understand your meaning.”

He had feigned ignorance by asking why local officials did not arrest tax evaders—and Zhang Juzheng answered with population figures.

Because powerful families don’t just own land—they own people!

Would the authorities dare pursue them?

Fine, suppose you’re a hardliner who dares to destroy families—what of the other powerful families hiding land and population?

Will they feel the same fear? Will some hothead cry, “Officials drive the people to rebellion”?

Even if they dare not openly raise banners, they will secretly collude, support bandits and pirates, supply men and money—and instantly shake a region.

Are the Japanese pirates of the southeast all from Japan? Of course not.

The principle is the same.

If the scholar-gentry of the two capitals and thirteen provinces all resist central edicts, the realm’s decay will not be mere words.

Zhang Juzheng bowed: “Yesterday in court, the tax affairs of Huguang and the border matters of Xuan and Da both carried unspoken difficulties—I dared to use them to clarify for Your Highness.”

Zhu Yijun stared fixedly at Zhang Juzheng.

How many heroes does the realm hold?

Here stands one of history’s great men—clear-eyed on the state of affairs.

Since Jiajing’s reign, he must have pondered these scrolls countless nights and days; perhaps no one understands the Great Ming’s accumulated ills more deeply than he.

Zhang Juzheng knew reform was difficult—he simply chose to face it.

Zhu Yijun gently clasped Zhang Juzheng’s hand: “You have endured great hardship for the sake of the nation, Your Excellency.”

Zhang Juzheng stiffened, his back instinctively arching; after a long moment, he slowly relaxed.

“Your Highness overstates my merit.”

“There is one more scroll on taxes—please examine it.”

Zhu Yijun nodded, withdrew his hand, and opened the final scroll.

This scroll needed no reading.

With land and population declining year by year, tax revenue’s condition was obvious.

Moreover, the Great Ming’s tax system was inherently flawed.

Zhang Juzheng spoke up: “Last year, the Ministry of Revenue collected 14.75 million taels in land tax converted to silver.”

Seventy-two years ago, during the Hongzhi era, land taxes converted to silver amounted to 16.14 million taels.

Last year’s grain harvest reached only 24 million shi, less than the 31 million shi at the dynasty’s founding.

Your Highness, the border troops’ pay has gone unpaid for years, and the salaries of officials have been in arrears for several years as well.

If we cannot collect more tax revenue… the central government is truly on the brink of collapse!

Zhu Yijun listened quietly to the end, then glanced briefly at the thin scroll.

He sighed: “No wonder the Grand Secretary says the Great Ming is doomed.”

A treasury without funds, and a government whose edicts cannot reach the provinces.

Wily Japanese pirates and Tartar raiders, alongside border troops who cannot be paid.

Corrupt officials forming cliques for personal gain, alongside powerful gentry who hold land, wealth, and influence.

The Great Ming…

Zhang Juzheng straightened up and replied: “Your Highness, if things continue this way, how can the Great Ming endure? This is truly a moment of existential crisis for the realm!”

Zhu Yijun fell silent, then suddenly raised his head.

He fixed Zhang Juzheng with a steady gaze and said without expression: “What then shall we do?”

Indeed, what can be done?

The realm is collapsing—what can be done?

You, Zhang Juzheng, are a Grand Secretary; I am merely a ten-year-old child.

Even if I am clever and understand what you say, what more do you expect of me?

Power does not rest in my hands—why tell me this? If you have advice, why not submit it to the Two Palaces?

Zhu Yijun had never lowered his guard.

He still remembered vividly Zhang Juzheng’s instruction to Gao Yi to lecture on the “Tai Jia.”

Now he presents me with all this—what is his true intention?

Zhang Juzheng suddenly raised his head and lowered his voice: “Your Highness, only one man can save the Great Ming!”

At these words, Zhu Yijun felt as if doused with cold water—he snapped back to awareness.

He suddenly realized the atmosphere was wrong.

He looked up and scanned the surroundings—no one was there; even the eunuchs on duty had vanished!

Zhu Yijun’s heart tightened—was this the moment to reveal his hand?

Only one man? You mean yourself, Zhang Juzheng!?

Are you urging me to relinquish power, to let you become Yi Yin, governing in my name and then returning authority once your reforms are complete?

Zhu Yijun felt an unexpected surge of anger.

You, Zhang Juzheng, are a genius of your age—but am I not?

Who among us did not rise from commoner to the heart of power?

You, Zhang Juzheng, can only prolong the Great Ming’s life—but I can save the realm!

Zhu Yijun’s chest tightened with suppressed resentment; his courtesy began to fray.

His tone grew sharp: “Oh? Who is this man? Tell me—let me learn from him.”

Even if Zhang Juzheng sought to overshadow him, he would not yield an inch.

Many wish to save the realm—but only one holds the reins of power!

This is a struggle of paths! A struggle of orthodoxy!

Zhang Juzheng replied loudly: “The one who can save the Great Ming is none other than Your Highness!”

Zhu Yijun froze, then recoiled in shock!

Dammit!

I’ve been played!

This man was testing me!

Zhang Juzheng may suspect that yesterday’s suppression of Feng Bao and promotion of Zhang Hong were deliberate.

Perhaps he suspects I am another Yingzong—biding my time, scheming to seize power—and so he seeks to probe me.

But my reaction just now has confirmed his suspicions.

He used the lecture on “Tai Jia” as a lead-in, then analyzed state affairs and laid bare the realm’s ills, gently guiding me.

Finally, he feigned a revelation—all to observe my emotional response.

My reaction must have been clear to Zhang Juzheng; judging by his expression, he has already formed a verdict on my actions these past two days.

And only now do I realize it!

Good, good, good—an old fox indeed!

I’ve only just crossed over; carrying old habits, I failed to control my past leadership mindset—and in a moment of carelessness, I revealed too much to Zhang Juzheng.

Now this image of a precocious, calculating, deeply reserved child will surely be cemented.

Thinking of this, Zhu Yijun took a slow, deep breath and calmed himself.

Since it has happened, overthinking is useless.

He smoothly picked up the thread: “Grand Secretary, to offer such counsel in private audience is improper.”

Zhang Juzheng’s face revealed no emotion: “The realm rests upon Your Highness alone. I dare to hope for Your Highness.”

“Cultivate virtue, honor the literati, consult on state affairs.”

“Preserve the ancestral foundation, rescue the realm from peril.”

Zhu Yijun nodded: “Grand Secretary’s words today, I have noted.”

The audience was now concluded.

The two exchanged further formalities, then Zhang Juzheng bowed and withdrew.

Zhu Yijun watched silently as Zhang Juzheng departed.

His expression was unreadable.

With Zhang Juzheng’s departure, he will now be on guard against me.

In this game, Zhang Juzheng and I have nearly laid our cards on the table, while Gao Gong holds the position of Chief Grand Secretary but ignores us both.

And Feng Bao is stirring the pot.

Add to this the Jin Faction, the Pure Stream, the border garrisons, and local powers—the situation is chaotic; to seize power will be difficult indeed.

But…

As Zhang Juzheng neared the corner, Zhu Yijun suddenly called out: “Grand Secretary Zhang!”

Zhang Juzheng immediately halted and turned, about to kneel.

Zhu Yijun raised a hand to stop him, then smiled: “The rise and fall of the realm—Grand Secretary, watch what I shall do!”

To struggle against Heaven is endless joy; to struggle against men is even greater joy!

Saying this, he turned without looking back and entered the inner chamber under the eunuchs’ escort.

Zhang Juzheng stared at Zhu Yijun’s retreating back, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

He bowed and withdrew.

…

Truly, a sage monarch.

Zhang Juzheng walked calmly out of the eastern side hall, yet his mind was anything but calm.

This Crown Prince, as he had suspected, indeed seeks to intervene in governance and seize power—yesterday’s actions were all deliberate.

He is only ten years old—and already possesses such insight, such mastery of authority, such hidden depth—remarkable!

Compared to this Crown Prince, when I was ten, I… oh, I could already write policy essays critiquing the realm, and even the Provincial Governor praised me highly—so perhaps I was slightly less gifted.

Yet even more remarkable—he can be mentioned alongside Zhang Juzheng; this Crown Prince may well be the most precocious ruler since the founding of the dynasty, second only to Yingzong.

If this new sovereign devotes even half his mind to proper governance, it would be the realm’s great fortune.

As for now…

He turned to the young eunuch beside him and said: “Go tell Feng Da and warn him to watch Zhang Hong.”

The words were veiled, but Feng Bao would understand.

Yes—Feng Bao’s ally is none other than Zhang Juzheng!

Otherwise, how could I dare test the Crown Prince in the Wenhua Hall, where eyes abound?

Otherwise, how could Feng Bao have learned of Gao Gong’s impeachment?

Allying with eunuchs is a Grand Secretary’s grave sin, a scholar’s disgrace.

But I do not care!

To accomplish great deeds, how can one spare oneself?

Gao Gong knows that implementing reform requires absolute power—he is willing to suppress colleagues and purge dissenters; how could I not know?

Good and evil, pure stream and turbid stream—foolish distinctions!

I, Zhang Juzheng, am no empty-talking scholar-painter—I am a capable administrator!

A capable administrator who can turn the tide!

For this, I am willing to ally with eunuchs, betray my sworn friends—I know Gao Gong cannot save the Great Ming!

For this, I am willing to probe the Son of Heaven’s heart, to treat the Emperor as a child—I fear, I fear this final chance will again fall to a ruler who ignores the realm!

I am no longer young; my graying temples tell me this is my last opportunity.

My legacy? My reputation? The Great Ming hangs by a thread—I cannot think so far ahead.

To make the Great Ming reborn from the ashes of the new law’s sacrifices, the Emperor’s authority, the Grand Secretaries’ ambitions, the gentry’s greed—even his own life—could all be offered as offerings upon the altar!

The Great Ming must be resurrected in his hands!

Zhang Juzheng turned his back on Zhu Yijun, his steps firm, step by step, walking out of the Wenhua Hall and returning to the Grand Secretariat.

—

Note 1: “In recent times, laws and discipline have gradually slackened, customs have steadily deteriorated; this is precisely the danger of prolonged peace. Though there is a name of order and stability, there is no substance; though no crisis or chaos has occurred, the logic of it is present—this is what is meant by leaving great burdens and dire challenges behind.” — The Imperial Anthology of Statecraft, Volume 254, “Memorial on the Three Evils and Three Trends”

Note 2: Lai Jiancheng. Border Garrison Grain and Pay: Military Expenditure and the State Financial Crisis in the Mid-to-Late Ming Dynasty [M]. Zhejiang University Press, 2010.

Note 3: Zhou Bodi. History of Chinese Finance [M]. Shanghai People’s Publishing House, 1981.

Note 4: Liu Xiaocheng. History of Chinese Fiscal and Taxation Systems [M]. China Finance and Economics Publishing House, 2007.

Note 5: Yang Hui. A Comparative Study of Fiscal Revenue and Expenditure Structures in China and Britain, 17th–19th Centuries [D]. Northeast Normal University, 2013(02).

Note 6: It should be noted that the population figure cited by Zhang Juzheng is the official Ming statistic; according to modern demographic modeling, the population in the sixth year of Longqing should have been approximately 150.91 million.

(End of Chapter)