Chapter 13: Each Has Their Own Scheme, Moths Flying into the Flame

“Bai Gui, if you’ve nothing better to do than play house with children, why not take a look at this mountain of memorials?”

As Zhang Juzheng returned to the cabinet office, he heard Gao Gong’s voice coming from inside.

Bai Gui was Zhang Juzheng’s childhood name; Gao Gong had always been this way—calling someone by their childhood name felt no disrespect to him, but rather a sign of intimacy.

Zhang Juzheng was used to it. He walked into Gao Gong’s office, pulled up a chair, and sat down: “I can only pretend I didn’t hear that, Yuanfu.”

Gao Gong didn’t lift his head, still scribbling at his desk: “There’s no one else here—the clerks have all gone to pay respects at Sishan Gate.”

Zhang Juzheng poured himself a cup of tea, moistened his throat, and said: “Yuanfu, since the late Emperor passed, the Crown Prince seems to have truly awakened—his words and manner have left me deeply impressed.”

“In my view, he may well become a wise sovereign in time.”

He spoke casually, as if chatting over tea.

Gao Gong shook his head: “Each generation has its wise rulers and its fools—what does it matter?”

When the Wanli Emperor ascended the throne at fourteen, he subdued the cabinet and ministers, then reformed entrenched abuses and restored order—wasn’t he a wise ruler? But what came after? He secluded himself for twenty years to pursue Daoist cultivation!

“Bai Gui, don’t think that just because you get a wise sovereign, the Great Ming will last forever. No matter how precocious he is, can he rival us who passed the imperial examinations?”

Gao Gong spat out heretical remarks without restraint; Zhang Juzheng could only remain silent.

After a long pause, Zhang Juzheng finally spoke: “Suqing, we are ministers, always ministers—the sovereign is always the sovereign.”

Gao Gong grunted, clearly not taking it seriously: “Of course the sovereign is the sovereign—especially one like the late Emperor who entrusted governance to the cabinet. That’s a true sovereign.”

Zhang Juzheng sighed inwardly.

This was the irreconcilable divide between him and Gao Gong—Gao Gong was too radical!

In other words, Gao Gong was unrealistic, too idealistic.

Zhang Juzheng did want to oversee state affairs, but how long could he even live?

After saving the empire, he would hand back governance and new laws to the sovereign—even if it meant dying like Shang Yang, leaving the policies behind while departing, he had no desire to cling to power.

But Gao Gong thought differently. This close friend of his had grown weary of the old tales of loyal ministers and wise sovereigns—he wished henceforth that all sovereigns would merely sit idle and govern by inaction.

Utterly fantastical!

He didn’t know how far Gao Gong intended to go, but no matter how far, it was impossible.

Temporary suppression might still be manageable, but if Gao Gong truly pursued this path, the sovereign’s authority would be eroded, and he would inevitably rely on the Directorate of Ceremonial to launch a furious counterattack, triggering internal and external conflict.

The Great Ming could not withstand such turmoil.

Unfortunately, he knew he could not persuade Gao Suqing, just as he himself would never agree with Gao Suqing.

Zhang Juzheng lightly moved past the topic: “Yuanfu, are you drafting a memorial to impeach Feng Bao?”

Gao Gong waved his hand: “I already submitted the impeachment memorial to the palace. This one is about Xuan and Da—I’m writing to Wang Chonggu.”

Hearing that the impeachment memorial against Feng Bao had just been sent, Zhang Juzheng’s eyes flickered.

His face remained expressionless: “What does Minister Yang of the Ministry of War think about Xuan and Da?”

Gao Gong paused, then continued writing: “Yang Bo says the Tartars in Xuan and Da are indeed causing serious trouble, and the border troops haven’t been paid for too long—Wang Chonggu has no choice.”

Zhang Juzheng was startled: “Wang Chonggu can no longer control the border troops?”

This could not be taken lightly.

Gao Gong sneered: “It’s Yang Bo who can’t control Wang Chonggu!”

He handed over a memorial: “Take a look.”

Zhang Juzheng rose to take it, glancing at the cover—it was a censor’s inspection report.

With curiosity, he opened it.

Scanning it rapidly, his expression instantly turned grave.

He said solemnly: “Of the fifty thousand warhorses purchased last year, only thirty thousand are usable?!”

Gao Gong had already read it—he knew exactly what Zhang Juzheng meant. His tone carried anger: “It’s worse than that. The Ministry of War’s quota for last year was seventy thousand!”

“In January this year, the entire horse-purchase silver from the Ministry of Imperial Stables was disbursed.”

“The Mongols haven’t sold their horses because of this!”

Zhang Juzheng closed the memorial, frowning.

So that was it—the steppe tribes were waiting for the border trade to feed themselves. When this deal was undermined, of course they’d riot.

As for where the horse-purchase silver went, it was obvious.

And yet they still had the nerve to claim unpaid wages? Never mind distant years—just this February, twenty-seven hundred thousand taels of military pay were sent to Xuan and Da!

Even Xuan Prefecture’s commercial taxes need not be remitted to the central government, yet they’re still begging the center for money!

Xuan and Da have nearly become a blood-sucking tumor!

Zhang Juzheng spoke: “Then what is the purpose of this letter, Yuanfu…?”

A formal letter from the center would leave no room for compromise.

Gao Gong clearly didn’t want to reach that point—that’s why he wrote under his personal name.

Gao Gong snorted: “I’m asking him: with such high walls and full granaries, when exactly do you plan to rebel?”

Zhang Juzheng knew Gao Gong was speaking in anger. He shook his head: “Yuanfu, I believe Wang Chonggu is hoarding enemies for leverage and is greedy beyond measure—but to say he’s preparing to rebel? That’s too extreme.”

“His two sons are still in Beijing.”

The Great Ming was perilously fragile, but no one yet dared to be the first to raise this accusation.

Gao Gong fell silent for a moment.

Finally, he sighed: “Bai Gui, I know this too. I only hope he’ll rein himself in.”

“He earned merit with the Ansa tribute pact—he was barely one step away from entering the cabinet. I fear he’ll ruin his reputation in old age.”

He and Wang Chonggu were jinshi of the same year, and they had a decent personal relationship.

Zhang Juzheng also frowned: “The state’s affairs are so difficult.”

Gao Gong quickly regained composure and waved his hand: “Bai Gui, go attend to official duties first. It’s a time of many affairs—I simply can’t handle them all.”

Zhang Juzheng nodded and rose: “Good. I still need to meet with the Ministry of Rites to discuss the late Emperor’s temple name—I’ll be off.”

With that, he turned and left the room.

Gao Gong watched Zhang Juzheng’s retreating figure, his expression slowly turning stern.

In the empty office, he spoke coldly: “Did you hear everything I said?”

No sooner had the words left his lips than a figure stepped out from behind the screen.

He walked slowly to Gao Gong’s side: “Everything you intended me to hear, I heard.”

Gao Gong picked up the letter he had just written and turned to stare directly at him: “Zhang Siwei, deliver this letter to your uncle Wang Chonggu.”

“And add this message: he has grown too powerful in Xuan and Da—I no longer trust him. He must come to the center next year—he can even enter the cabinet!”

“Otherwise, let him rebel in Xuan and Da. I’ll strip the other garrisons bare and cut off his head to raise the banner!”

The unmasked fury made Zhang Siwei shudder.

If anyone else had said this, he might have dismissed it as bluster—but from Gao Gong’s mouth, he dared not doubt it.

Zhang Siwei extended his hand, took the letter from Gao Gong, and hesitated: “Yuanfu… does Minister Yang know about the cabinet appointment…?”

Though Zhang Siwei was only Vice Minister of Personnel, his uncle Wang Chonggu was a frontier commander, his cousin’s father-in-law was the party leader Yang Bo, and he himself was the chief manager behind the Shanxi merchants.

He was, in effect, the crown prince of the Shanxi Party.

The next leader of the Shanxi Party was unquestionably him.

His status and influence were immense—not merely defined by his official rank.

Now that Gao Gong was offering a cabinet seat to secure Wang Chonggu’s compliance, Zhang Siwei naturally had to confirm this from the Shanxi Party’s standpoint.

After all, Yang Bo was still the party leader and Wang Chonggu’s direct superior.

If Gao Gong truly meant this, Zhang Siwei feared Yang Bo might harbor resentment, and a rift between him and his uncle would be disastrous.

Gao Gong gave no direct answer: “Just deliver the message.”

He said no more—he had already spoken to Yang Bo, but Zhang Siwei was not worthy of his explanation.

Zhang Siwei laid his cards on the table: “Yuanfu… our Shanxi Party is not like the others. Might we, perhaps, request one more seat for Minister Yang?”

“Then we can contribute more…”

They were the Shanxi Party—wealthy through the Shanxi merchants, powerful through Yang Bo, militarily strong through Wang Chonggu. Wasn’t their strength far more worthy of negotiation than the likes of Nan Zhili, Huguang, or Zhejiang?

Not bargaining at all would be unthinkable.

Gao Gong refused to answer. What did the Shanxi Party think he was? He might yield slightly out of personal conviction—but he would never be coerced by anyone!

Had it not been for the immense difficulty of securing real authority, requiring the united efforts of countless civil officials, he might never have tolerated Zhang Siwei’s incessant chatter.

Yes—real authority was precisely what Gao Gong sought!

The current cabinet differed from the Three Departments of past dynasties.

Though the cabinet appeared to be the chancellor’s office, it was in fact merely the emperor’s private bureau; the cabinet ministers’ actual titles were Palace University Scholars, fifth-rank officials, serving only as imperial advisors.

Since its establishment, it had never held the official status or authority of a chancellor.

Only after successive ministers—Xia Yan, Yan Song, and now Gao Gong himself—gradually accumulated power did it acquire the substance of a chancellorship.

Yet even now, as a private imperial bureau with fifth-rank status, its institutional foundation remained inherently weak—it could be shaped by individuals, but was not a formal system.

Unless—real authority was formally elevated in ritual and law to the status of chancellorship!

That required raising the cabinet’s official rank, stripping the Directorate of Ceremonial of its veto power, and securing the full backing of the scholar-official class!

Otherwise, why would he tolerate the Shanxi Party, the Zhe Party, and continually court Nan Zhili?

Otherwise, why would he linger so long in the post of Minister of Personnel?

Otherwise, why would he have twice recommended the Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, and now target Feng Bao? Outsiders think he’s petty and vengeful—they truly misunderstand Gao Suqing.

Thinking of this, Gao Gong grew even more impatient with Zhang Siwei—the man who dared to judge him with petty thoughts.

He swept his sleeve aside: “Exit through the side door.”

Gao Arong had long accumulated authority; Zhang Siwei dared not say more and immediately cut off the topic.

But he did not leave; instead, he brought up another matter: “Prime Minister, I sent the memorial impeaching Feng Bao through the eunuch Chen Hong.”

“But… Feng Bao enjoys deep trust from Lady Li; wouldn’t accusations of corruption and isolating the inner and outer courts be ineffective?”

The Jin Party has now bet on Gao Arong; in such investments, he naturally had to inquire carefully—otherwise, if something went wrong, it would be too late.

Gao Arong glanced at Zhang Siwei and sneered.

He stroked his beard, a look of satisfaction on his face, and said: “Yesterday, I was humiliated. If I did nothing, wouldn’t that only make him more alert?”

“This is merely a decoy. Let him enjoy his momentary triumph—I haven’t even unveiled my true moves yet.”

From beneath his desk, he pulled out a memorial titled “Five Urgent Matters of New Reform.”

Zhang Siwei had barely glimpsed the title when Gao Arong snatched it back.

He hurriedly asked: “Prime Minister, what is this…?”

Gao Arong gave no direct answer: “You’ll know when the time comes.”

“I will not act unless I act decisively—I will crush the Directorate of Ceremonial! With the combined strength of my Grand Secretariat, the Six Ministries and Nine Ministers, the censors and literati, and all provincial viceroys and governors, even Lady Li cannot resist!”

Zhang Siwei dared not press further and quickly flattered: “Prime Minister, your vision embraces mountains and rivers, your planning stretches far and deep—I was overly cautious. The Jin Party will surely follow in your wake.”

Gao Arong gave Zhang Siwei a cool glance.

After pondering how to dismantle and scatter the Jin and Zhe parties once he secured real power in the Grand Secretariat, he admonished: “Enough. Go learn from Yang Bo. Stop wasting your time scheming petty intrigues.”

Zhang Siwei was dismissed again. He reluctantly bowed and prepared to withdraw.

As he took one step back, he seemed to remember something and halted.

He suddenly spoke: “Prime Minister, Zhang Juzheng seeks self-preservation, and Gao Yi wavers—neither can be entrusted with great matters.”

“This morning, I saw the Crown Prince showing deep affection toward Gao Yi—their bond seems extraordinary. Gao Yi may not support your plan to weaken the emperor and strengthen the Grand Secretariat.”

Though Gao Arong now held supreme power, no Grand Secretary could be underestimated.

If Gao Yi truly raised the banner of a royalist faction defending the emperor’s authority, trouble would be inevitable.

But Gao Arong paid it no mind.

He had granted the Grand Secretariat posts to the Jin Party and the Nan Zhili faction only to unite disparate forces—these were self-serving turncoats he tolerated for now.

When he eventually handed over the Grand Secretariat, he would have purged all these factionalists entirely, leaving behind a central administration where the capable rise and the incompetent fall, one fit to govern the state.

True governance must rely on men like Gao Yi and Zhang Juzheng—loyal officials who care for public affairs.

Now, these self-serving men dare claim Gao Yi and Zhang Juzheng are unreliable? It’s sheer inversion of heaven and earth.

He waved his hand dismissively: “As civil officials, how could they possibly oppose this?”

“Moreover, Zi Xiang and Bai Gui both follow my lead in all things.”

“Though I have not yet revealed my full intentions to them…”

Zhang Siwei gathered courage and suddenly interrupted Gao Arong: “Prime Minister, think again.”

Gao Arong frowned at him.

Zhang Siwei hurriedly urged: “Prime Minister, what if it fails?”

“We lowly officials might escape unscathed, but if you, a Grand Secretary, are implicated, it won’t be so simple.”

“Since you are so close to them, why not think of their welfare? This is for their own good.”

These words seemed to move Gao Arong.

After a moment’s thought, he slowly nodded.

Gao Arong said: “Very well. When the time comes, I will have Gao Yi feign illness and take temporary leave, and Zhang Juzheng will oversee the imperial tombs.”

To oversee the imperial tombs meant inspecting their construction and condition.

It had always been the duty of a Grand Secretary to lead such a mission.

The round trip would take considerable time.

Zhang Siwei exhaled in relief and finally withdrew.

—

Note 1: In the first half of this year, Xuanfu Garrison’s official report recorded the original number of mounted troops and recruits, plus newly acquired horses: 51,521 total, of which 31,007 were fit for service; 20,484 remained unacquired. —《Veritable Records of the Shenzong Emperor of Ming》

Note 2: In the first month of Longqing Fifth Year, 25,000 taels from the Temple of the Imperial Steeds were allocated to the three garrisons of Xuanfu, Datong, and Shanxi for horse purchases, upon the request of Viceroy Minister Wang Chonggu. —《Veritable Records of the Muzong Emperor of Ming》

Note 3: In the second month of Longqing Sixth Year, 127,300 taels from the Imperial Treasury were sent to Xuanfu, 150,700 taels to Datong, and 89,600 taels to Shanxi, to fund the rations of both resident and expeditionary troops. —《Veritable Records of the Muzong Emperor of Ming》

(End of Chapter)