Chapter 166: Rats of the Society, Foxes of the City, Burning Like Fire, Flourishing Like Flames

Less than half a year remains until the triennial spring examination.

Students aspiring to become Tong Jinshi were already sharpening their wits.

The entire capital was steeped in an intense atmosphere of study.

Even the sons of high officials often gathered in study groups—not only to exchange scholarly insights but also to spur one another on.

Recently, the Zhang Zhang Sihui residence had been bustling, its scholarly ambiance rivaling that of the Shanxi Guild Hall.

Among them were Wang Qian, son of Wang Wang Chonggu; Feng Lun, Wang Wang Chonggu's son-in-law; Han Zhan, Zhang Zhang Sihui's in-law; and Zhang Zhang Sihui's own son, Zhang Jiazhen.

All were close relatives who studied together.

As for which among them came merely to soothe Zhang Zhang Sihui and mend family ties, opinions varied.

Feng Lun closed the volume of Gao Gao Wenduan's Memorials and picked up a copy of the Illustrated Compendium of Imperial Sayings, flipping through it idly.

The imperial examination, after all, required not only mastery of the classics but also policy essays.

One must read the writings of current ministers thoroughly, so as to anticipate the preferences of the examiners once they were appointed.

Yet the Illustrated Compendium of Imperial Sayings was merely an introductory text, listing the virtues and vices of emperors across dynasties, with illustrations occupying most of the pages.

There was little need for careful study; Feng Lun skimmed it once.

After a long while, he slowly closed it and remarked with a sigh: "The Grand Secretary truly admires Emperor Taizong of Tang—thirteen of the eighty-one virtues are attributed to him alone."

He had already decided that, for this year's policy essay, he must give Emperor Taizong a prominent place in his citations.

Han Zhan promptly chimed in: "After all, he is the emperor of a thousand generations—he deserves that weight."

Saying this, he pulled another copy of the Illustrated Compendium of Imperial Sayings from the pile and handed it to his eight-year-old nephew, Han Guang—Han Zhan's elder brother, Han Ji, had been a disciple of Gao Gong; last year's turmoil had exiled him from the capital, and Han Zhan now cared for his family in his stead.

Though only eight, this nephew was remarkably intelligent; Han Zhan always brought him along on his study outings, letting him absorb the atmosphere by osmosis.

Of course, Han Zhan had no idea that his nephew Han Guang would, in history, become the Grand Secretary of the court and an elder of the Donglin Party.

At this stage, his precociousness was perfectly normal.

Zhang Zhang Sihui's younger brother, Zhang Sduan, immediately shook his head: "The emperor of a thousand generations? I say, compared to His Majesty, Emperor Taizong falls far short."

At these words, the others' expressions shifted.

Was flattery of the emperor now considered treasonous among friends?

In the past, Zhang Sduan had never ceased his criticisms of the emperor.

Wang Qian, Wang Wang Chonggu's only son, knew his cousin's nature well and asked curiously: "What do you mean by that?"

Zhang Sduan nodded as if stating the obvious: "Compared to His Majesty, Emperor Taizong has ten failures; His Majesty has ten victories."

Everyone turned to him with curious eyes.

Zhang Sduan held the book, swaying his head: "Emperor Taizong fought through half a lifetime to seize the Central Plains; His Majesty was born to the throne, inheriting power in orderly succession, fulfilling Heaven's mandate—this is victory one in the Way."

As soon as he finished, everyone realized—of course, it was his usual style!

He was just making a veiled joke about the emperor—no harm done.

One had conquered the realm; the other had inherited it—clearly, the superiority was obvious.

Having opened the topic, Zhang Sduan continued without delay: "Emperor Taizong forced Jiali to dance to humiliate him—lacking in dignity; observe His Majesty: he bestows titles upon the Tumens and enfeoffs the Duoyan Guard, treating foreign barbarians as honored guests—this is victory two in Benevolence."

The others smiled knowingly.

"Emperor Taizong took the wife of Prince Qi, disregarding human ethics—despised by all; His Majesty dwells alone in the Western Garden, reverently serving Empress Dowager Chen—this is victory three in Virtue."

This rumor had only recently surfaced.

Last year, the emperor had pressured Empress Dowager Chen and confined her to the Western Garden, where even court ladies rarely saw her.

Some whispered he coveted her beauty and plumpness, secretly indulging in immoral acts within the garden.

"In Emperor Taizong's court, men like Wei Zheng dared to rebuke the sovereign openly—lawless and audacious; His Majesty's court is filled with ministers like Li Li Zaiting and Ge Ge Shouli, who understand and cherish His Majesty's intentions—this is victory four in Governance."

Zhang Sduan grew more animated: "Emperor Taizong dealt bluntly with his ministers, lacking flexibility; His Majesty treats his officials with deference, honoring talent and humility—this..."

Mid-sentence, he noticed several classmates had quietly turned away. He frowned in confusion.

Just then, he saw his nephew Zhang Jiazhen frantically gesturing toward his back.

Zhang Sduan instantly realized something was wrong.

He turned slowly—and there, at the door, stood two men.

One was Vice Minister of Rites Ma Ma Ziqiang; the other, unmistakably, was his own elder brother, Zhang Zhang Sihui, whose face was dark with anger as he stared at him.

Feng Lun, Han Zhan, and the others immediately rose, forcing awkward laughs: "Ha! Today's study session was most fruitful—we must return to organize our notes. We'll take our leave now."

Bowing to Zhang and Ma standing outside, they hurriedly departed.

Wang Qian, Wang Wang Chonggu's only son, lingered last. After bowing, he did not immediately leave.

Instead, he gathered his words and offered Zhang Zhang Sihui a familiar smile: "Cousin, tomorrow Mother is hosting a family banquet at your residence—she specifically sent me to invite you."

Since Wang Wang Chonggu entered the Grand Secretariat, relations between the two families had grown strained.

Wang Wang Chonggu, having taken his nephew's place in the Grand Secretariat, naturally sought ways to soothe the rift.

Unfortunately, Zhang Zhang Sihui was still furious and refused to be placated.

He glanced at his cousin with a sour expression and shook his head: "My uncle and I hold high offices—we must avoid even the appearance of favoritism. I won't attend."

Zhang Zhang Sihui turned to his son: "Jiazhen, go tomorrow in my stead to visit your granduncle—don't let them say our family lacks kinship."

Zhang Jiazhen grimaced and bowed in acquiescence.

His father had grown increasingly irritable with age.

Zhang Zhang Sihui then turned and left with Ma Ma Ziqiang.

Wang Qian stood frozen in place.

Avoid favoritism?

You're the father-in-law of Ma Ma Ziqiang—your daughter married Ma Zao, Ma Ma Ziqiang's son.

And now the two of you stroll past arm in arm, talking of avoiding favoritism!?

This was deliberate humiliation!

Wang Qian inwardly spat at Zhang Zhang Sihui—look who's in the Grand Secretariat now, still putting on airs!

To their faces, he still smiled weakly at Zhang Sduan and Zhang Jiazhen, feigning helplessness, urging them to attend the banquet tomorrow.

Zhang Sduan got along well with this cousin, yet he knew well why the two families were at odds.

In fact, nearly all these relatives had come to mend ties with Zhang Zhang Sihui.

Han Zhan's elder brother had been close to Zhang Zhang Sihui.

Feng Lun likely spoke for Yang Bo's faction.

Had Wang Qian come alone, he might not even have been let through the gate.

Zhang Sduan had tried several times to mediate, only to be scolded by his brother.

Now he dared not touch the subject.

He could only awkwardly see Wang Qian off.

Meanwhile, Zhang Zhang Sihui, who had deliberately scowled to spoil the mood, softened his expression only after entering the study with Ma Ma Ziqiang.

He spoke with a tone of grievance bordering on resentment: "You saw it, Tikan?"

"When my uncle seized my seat in the Grand Secretariat, no one urged him to reconsider."

"Now that I've been wronged, they keep coming to my house, all urging me to make peace!"

"It's outrageous!"

It was bad enough that relatives came to counsel him at home.

At the Ministry of Rites, even the Right Censor-in-Chief Huo Ji, the Minister of War Shi Mao, and even the junior Hanlin scholar Wang Jiaoping came daily to urge him to consider the greater good—after all, whether he or his uncle entered the Grand Secretariat, what difference did it make?

It was simply too much!

Zhang Zhang Sihui had never before been told to think of the greater good.

Ma Ma Ziqiang could do nothing.

Had he not feared damaging their friendship, he too would have advised Zhang Zhang Sihui—though they were fellow provincials, who would ever yield a seat in the Grand Secretariat?

He himself had merely passed the third-class Tong Jinshi exam—hadn't he run around tirelessly to secure the status of Shujishi?

What were they all preparing for? Didn't they all know?

If he were in Wang Wang Chonggu's place, he wouldn't yield either.

But Zhang Zhang Sihui was too angry to hear such words.

Ma Ma Ziqiang could only agree: "It is indeed unjust to you, Zihui."

He sighed theatrically, echoing Zhang Zhang Sihui's bitterness, then subtly shifted focus: "This is all the Central Secretariat's fault—how could they renege?"

"Since you've already taken charge of the Grand Secretariat on behalf of Lord Yang, how could they appoint someone else?"

Zhang Zhang Sihui would rather blame the emperor than his own kin—it would only fracture internal unity.

At these words, Zhang Zhang Sihui immediately calmed.

His anger vanished as if wiped clean.

He fell silent for a long while, then recited softly: "Without traversing Chang'an's road, how can one know the path's hardship? Three gates block the earth's axis; nine bends lead into the clouds."

"Water crossings demand oars; frosty marches demand only the saddle. One may risk the eaves, yet envy the roc's flight on the wind."

Ma Ma Ziqiang listened, entranced.

Unconsciously, he clapped and praised: "Brilliant poem!"

This poem, in its allusions and imagery, was masterful—truly expressing inner feeling, deeply cultivated and self-attained.

Its trials and sorrows, its anguish, leapt from the page.

Clearly, Zhang Zhang Sihui had composed it in response to his recent setbacks in office.

Zhang Zhang Sihui shook his head and picked up Ma Ma Ziqiang's earlier thread: "The Son of Heaven bears the empire, his gaze fixed on the Nine Provinces—who enters or leaves the Grand Secretariat is not for us to decide."

Setbacks make one grow.

After his uncle entered the capital, Zhang Zhang Siwei finally suffered his only setback in life.

From the time he had been disrespectful to the Emperor during daily lectures, to now, even in private, he spoke and acted with caution.

Ma Ma Ziqiang was still savoring Zhang Zhang Siwei's poem; beyond its sense of disappointment, he also detected an unyielding ambition to ascend to the Grand Secretariat.

He silently shook his head—such determination explained why Zhang Zhang Siwei had dared risk offending the Emperor by blocking the reform of the imperial clans.

After weighing his words, he steered the conversation back on track, subtly raising the matter the Ministry of Rites had rejected today: "Your Majesty's sovereign judgment is beyond our place to comment upon."

"Yet… I fear there are wicked ministers at court who have grown accustomed to hearing only flattering words, making the Emperor deaf to admonition."

"Especially regarding today's matter of reforming the imperial clans—since it did not please His Majesty, petty men are bound to whisper slander."

Ma Ma Ziqiang was somewhat displeased; after all, such talk could easily offend the Emperor.

At the time, he had sided with Zhang Zhang Siwei for the sake of unity; now he naturally demanded an explanation.

Zhang Zhang Siwei understood the implication of his words perfectly.

In the past, he might have offered some vague reassurance.

But now, Zhang Zhang Siwei had learned from the Emperor how to treat his allies.

He looked at Ma Ma Ziqiang with utmost sincerity: "Tike, do not worry. His Majesty is benevolent and wise—he will not be misled by slander."

"Since ascending the throne, His Majesty has known men well and appointed them appropriately—whether Xu Jie, Gao Gong, or even my uncle—he has never doubted those he entrusted."

Xu Jie and Gao Gong were unharmed—what is there to fear?

He had begun to understand the Emperor's nature.

Why had his uncle entered the Grand Secretariat? Was it not because the Emperor needed Wang Wang Chonggu to reorganize the military?

As long as one was useful, the Emperor would not act on emotion or be "deceived by wicked men."

If Zhang Zhang Siwei never caused a stir, the Emperor might think him insignificant.

Remember—he is the chief manager of the Shanxi merchants! Not Wang Wang Chonggu!

His father and uncles were all great merchants; his maternal family was backed by wealthy merchants like Shen Jiang.

His wife's family was equally powerful—his father-in-law Wang En and brother-in-law Wang Hui.

Beyond kin, there were in-laws.

His second brother Zhang Siduan married the daughter of merchant Li Ji; his fifth brother first married the daughter of merchant Wang Yin, then later married the daughter of merchant Fan Shikui.

His other friends, schoolmates, and childhood companions were too numerous to count.

Han Ji, son of wealthy merchant Han Bo and disciple of Gao Gong, was his close companion—"we studied together day and night, tirelessly."

The immensely wealthy Xu Jing was his childhood friend—"since I became a student, I have associated with Master Xu Jing."

Zhang Zhang Siwei was the chief manager endorsed by dozens of merchant houses—even Wang Wang Chonggu's entry into the Grand Secretariat could not replace him!

The salt from Xiechi and the silk from Lu'an Prefecture all passed through his hands.

The entire Three Jin region's coal, rice, and tea were coordinated and transported under his management.

The iron taxes from the five ironworks—Fuguo, Fengguo, Datong, Runguo, and Yiguo—were each year divided by Zhang Zhang Siwei himself before the court collected its share.

The entire commerce of Three Jin was Zhang Zhang Siwei's private garden!

Without his approval, the border trade with Altan Khan could never have opened.

With his weight, a little friction with the Emperor was nothing significant.

Look at Shen Shen Shixing.

Since Shen Vice Minister took charge of the Ministry of Personnel, he has repeatedly engaged in vague promotions—just as the Emperor demoted someone to some remote wasteland, the Ministry would immediately promote them again, often to Nanzhili for temporary refuge, without changing their rank.

Vague promotion has always been the civil officials' weapon against the Emperor's arbitrary demotions, and a common way to display magnanimity and curry favor with the petty.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng had rebuked Shen Shen Shixing several times, but each time Shen had evaded him.

The Emperor eventually could not bear it and complained directly, ordering Shen Shen Shixing to rein himself in.

Shen Shen Shixing promised wholeheartedly—but did he not return to his old ways?

If Shen Shen Shixing, backed by the Nanzhili faction, could wield such influence, then Zhang Zhang Siwei, leading the Shanxi faction, must have the same.

Only by causing trouble would the Emperor remember his weight and offer him slight reassurance.

Only by stomping his foot occasionally would the Shanxi faction's officials take notice of who truly held the ground.

Ma Ma Ziqiang said nothing.

Who hasn't tried to read the Emperor's mind?

On the surface, the Emperor showed remarkable early wisdom and rarely let personal likes or dislikes influence state affairs.

But the Emperor is still the Emperor—if one develops the illusion that he will always abide by rules, one will eventually suffer.

Not everyone can be compared to Gao Gong or Xu Jie.

Moreover, the Huguang affair had already enraged the Emperor for a long time.

Now, the proposal to reform the imperial clans has been blocked by the Ministry of Rites—perhaps the Emperor has quietly noted it, plotting how to settle accounts.

Ma Ma Ziqiang held firm: "I fear prolonged debate will delay the true business in Huguang."

He spoke subtly—what he meant was for Zhang Zhang Siwei to stop pushing.

Zhang Zhang Siwei grunted in assent.

Clearly, he could still listen to Ma Ma Ziqiang's advice.

Then, he couldn't help smiling and added an off-topic remark: "In my view, the Huguang affair won't end so quickly."

Ma Ma Ziqiang cast him a curious glance.

Zhang Zhang Siwei shook his head and said nothing.

He owned merchant houses with deeper reach; his analysis of the situation had more clues.

But none of it concerned him.

Better if it dragged on—more problems with the imperial clans meant higher status for the Ministry of Rites.

…

Huguang Provincial Administration Commission, Changsha Prefecture.

As the premier prefecture of Huguang, Changsha attracted many wealthy families to build homes within the city.

Wealthy gentry differed in depth of heritage.

Those with shallow roots could only relocate their entire households, becoming flashy urban elites.

Those with deep heritage owned houses in the city and estates, walled compounds, and fortresses outside.

Unfortunately, they had recently encountered a demon.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard had come plowing through.

Today, Zhu Zhu Shitai had just stormed one such estate, killing many—other wealthy families might still plead their case, but those who posed as virtuous local patrons while occasionally doubling as bandits were always executed on the spot.

Zhu Zhu Shitai kicked aside a corpse blocking his path, scuffed his boots on the ground twice to wipe off the blood.

He walked through the estate again, checking for any named survivors.

"Sir, there's still one alive inside!"

A company commander dragged out a half-grown boy from a room.

Zhu Zhu Shitai waved his hand: "Strangle him."

No weapons meant no need for bloodshed.

He was just feeling self-satisfied about his mercy when he suddenly remembered something.

He turned back and ordered: "He may have deliberately been caught to protect his younger brother or older brother—search that spot again carefully."

When traveling, one must behave like a proper trainee.

Stories always had such plots—better to be cautious.

His father had risked his life to secure this post; he had no other concern but to carry it out thoroughly.

He couldn't let his old man depart this world with one final scolding.

After another half-day, the Embroidered Uniform Guards scattered to plunder whatever valuables they could—wasn't that why imperial officials traveled on duty?

When finished, they all exited the compound, regrouped, and prepared to return.

Zhu Zhu Shitai was about to mount his horse.

Then a soldier approached him.

He looked closely—it was his father's personal guard.

Zhu Zhu Shitai called out anxiously: "What is it!?"

The soldier was hurried, but composed.

Only when he drew near, panting, did he say: "Prince! The Duke says the situation in Huguang has changed—return immediately!"

Zhu Zhu Shitai exhaled in relief.

At least it wasn't his father's sudden death.

He mounted his horse and asked casually: "Didn't he tell you what happened?"

The soldier leaned close to Zhu Zhu Shitai's saddle and whispered: "The Prince of Tai Ning under the Jing princedom, fearing the imperial envoy, committed suicide by fire!"

"Now, both the bureaucracy and the imperial clans of Huguang are shaken!"

"The Min princely house is restless; the Ji princely house is in panic…"

"The Duke fears they may lose reason and act unwisely!"

(End of Chapter)