Chapter 203: 140. Chapter 139: The Suspended Stone, the Book of Cheng; All Things Must Have a Beginning

140. Chapter 139: The Suspended Stone, the Book of Cheng; All Things Must Have a Beginning

Unlike veteran officials like Tu Tu Xiying, who had weathered decades of court politics, the rising official Zhao Wang Zhigao could not remain composed when he sensed trouble was coming.

The former, as a fourth-rank minister and one of the Nine Lesser Ministers, was a prominent figure even across the entire Great Ming.

Yet even this high-ranking official had clearly heard the Emperor's reprimand inside the hall, and seen Tu Tu Xiying's grim expression upon exiting.

Then what of himself, a mere sixth-rank Compiler in the Hanlin Academy? Would he not suffer even greater humiliation!?

What an unbearably strict Emperor!

With this anxious heart, Zhao Wang Zhigao followed Deng Deng Yizan, head bowed, stepping cautiously into the grand hall of the Ministry of Personnel's Bureau of Merit Evaluation.

This was Zhao Wang Zhigao's first summons to appear before the Emperor, yet he dared not raise his eyes to behold the Emperor's majesty, only hastily kowtowed and bowed: "Your servant, Zhao Wang Zhigao, Compiler of the Hanlin Academy, pays homage to Your Majesty."

Unexpectedly,

He was not met with the scolding he had anticipated.

Instead, the voice reaching Zhao Wang Zhigao's ears was unexpectedly gentle.

"Zhao Qing, rise. This is not a court assembly; you need not be so formal."

Hearing these words, Zhao Wang Zhigao's spirits eased slightly.

He offered another round of thanks, then slowly lifted his head, taking in the scene before him.

To Zhao Wang Zhigao's left and right, flanking the hall, sat the two Vice Ministers of the Ministry of Personnel.

Above Shen Shen Shixing's seat sat Zhang Zhang Juzheng in the assembly, seemingly having been handed something by the Emperor, now carefully reviewing it.

At the head of Wen Chun's row sat Gao Yi, who seemed to sense Zhao Wang Zhigao's gaze and turned slightly to nod in acknowledgment.

All of them had been granted seats, yet the atmosphere resembled a private audience.

There, occupying the grand hall of the Bureau of Merit Evaluation with full authority, sat the Emperor himself, dressed in ordinary robes, studying Zhao Wang Zhigao with keen interest, his expression unreadable.

At the Emperor's birthday in August, Zhao Wang Zhigao had glimpsed him from afar; now two months had passed, and the Emperor had grown noticeably taller.

Zhao Wang Zhigao cast only a single glance, then lowered his eyes, daring not to look again.

At that moment, the Emperor's voice came again.

"Zhao Qing, how goes the compilation of the Veritable Records of Your Imperial Grandfather and Your Imperial Father?"

Hearing the words "Veritable Records," Zhao Wang Zhigao's heart sank—he knew this scolding was inevitable.

As a Hanlin Compiler, he was assigned duties in lecturing, reading, editing, and checking—there was always work to be done.

Work meant being assessed under the Kaocheng Law.

Compiling the Veritable Records was precisely Zhao Wang Zhigao's official duty for this year's assessment.

The Emperor's inquiry now could only mean dissatisfaction with his portion.

Zhao Wang Zhigao, unlike Tu Tu Xiying, was no hardened veteran; after a moment's thought, he answered cautiously: "Your Majesty, the Veritable Records of the two reigns are being compiled step by step. Though my section has fallen slightly behind, I shall catch up as soon as possible."

Since the question had been raised directly, evasion was impossible—he could only pledge to make up the delay.

He had no intention of defying imperial policy; he simply had not had time.

The Mu Emperor reigned for six years; it was customary to take three to five years to compile his Veritable Records. Yet Zhang Zhang Juzheng, enforcing the Kaocheng Law, had forcibly compressed the deadline.

Compilation only began last October, yet they were ordered to complete it by August next year!

The Emperor Jiajing Emperor died four years before his Veritable Records began; who could have expected the Mu Emperor's to be finished within two years of his death?

The matter arose suddenly—he had already arranged lectures with colleagues a year or two in advance; could he simply cancel them without cause?

As Zhao Wang Zhigao's mind raced with these thoughts,

The Emperor nodded, then asked curiously: "Catch up soon… Zhao Qing, will you not lecture next year?"

Zhao Wang Zhigao's heart leapt—he felt dizzy.

No wonder Tu Tu Xiying left with such a grim face; this young Emperor was truly ruthless!

He had already promised to catch up—why bring up lecturing again!?

At a loss for a reply, he hastily knelt.

Zhu Zhu Yijun looked at Zhao Wang Zhigao, his expression unreadable as he shook his head slowly.

He spoke gently: "The Kaocheng Law has only been piloted for a year; the volume of affairs has surged abruptly. I understand your officers are not yet accustomed—I granted a three-year period to allow adjustment, to raise or lower officials' ranks while adjusting departmental duties to suit the needs."

"Since you say you will catch up on the Veritable Records, I shall not overly reprimand you—only observe your future conduct."

"Yet Your Imperial Father clearly issued an edict forbidding court officials from holding public lectures. Zhao Qing, why do you ignore it?"

Hearing the Emperor's mild reprimand, Zhao Wang Zhigao clenched his lips and said nothing.

The late Emperor forbade many things—he forbade corruption too, yet how many still committed it?

Besides, lecturing is not something only I do!

And does the Emperor himself never issue arbitrary orders?

Zhao Wang Zhigao had participated in lectures for decades—longer than he had served as an official; how could he simply abandon them?

When he was still a student, the Quzhou Qulu Lectures, Hangzhou Tianzhen Lectures, Longyou Shuinan Gatherings, and Lanxi Lanyin Assemblies profoundly aided him—how many close friends did he make?

Could such debts of gratitude and networks of influence be cast aside so easily?

Once he had pledged, "I shall surely attend, never late"—now, after becoming an official, must he sever ties and cut off friendship?

After a long silence, Zhao Wang Zhigao replied stiffly: "Your Majesty, I am not lecturing—I am merely meeting friends for conversation. I humbly beg Your Majesty to see this clearly!"

He knelt, yet his tone was defiant.

Hearing this, Zhu Zhu Yijun shook his head in disappointment.

He had no objection to sending Zhao Wang Zhigao back to Zhejiang to lecture freely.

But the problem now is this: the Hanlin Academy, as the reserve pool for imperial advisors, has been poisoned by Zhao Wang Zhigao's influence!

He studied under Qian Qian Dehong, associated with Wang Ji, had Li Li Chunfang as his mentor, and Zhao Zhao Zhenji as his tutor—truly a pure-blooded disciple of Mind Learning, a direct descendant of Wang Wang Yangming.

This has caused a large group within the Hanlin Academy to gather around Zhao Wang Zhigao.

Luo Luo Wanhua, the Zhuangyuan of Emperor Longqing 2, and Zhang Yuanbian, the Zhuangyuan of Emperor Longqing 5, were both disciples of Wang Ji, treating Zhao Wang Zhigao as an elder.

Geng Xiangding and Zeng Tongheng, Tong Jinshi of Emperor Jiajing, regarded Zhao Wang Zhigao as a representative of the Zhejiang Wang School.

The younger Hanlin aspirants like Zou Zou Dehan saw Zhao Wang Zhigao as their leader and ally.

This group, within the Hanlin Academy and across ministries, formed cliques under the pretext of the Beijing Lecture Assembly, binding themselves into societies—"uniting officials from all departments and bureaus to form a scholarly covenant in the monks' quarters of Xingshan Temple."

Such academic cliques, born within the court, cannot be allowed to stand.

Only by targeting Zhao Wang Zhigao as the prime example can ideological suppression be achieved.

Thinking of this, Zhu Zhu Yijun sighed, frustrated: "Zhao Compiler, you are not like Tu Qing."

"He is a Emperor Jiajing Tong Jinshi—he ignores Your Imperial Father's edicts, that is understandable. But you, Zhao Qing, are Your Imperial Father's own chosen third-place Tong Jinshi, a Son of Heaven's disciple."

"Even setting aside loyalty to the sovereign, how can you abandon the way of honoring your teacher?"

"Is this your 'polishing away dirt to reveal the true nature'—this evasion, this pretense?"

To control a man, strike at his core.

Zhu Zhu Yijun knew this future Grand Secretary well enough.

As a true heir of the Left Wing of Wang Learning, loyalty to the Emperor might not matter to him—but ask why he disrespects his teacher, and he would surely feel the sting.

As expected, Zhao Wang Zhigao's expression flickered slightly at the Emperor's words.

Zhu Zhu Yijun pressed forward, his voice low: "Zhao Qing."

"A scholar serves to put his learning into practice. To appoint one who has not yet mastered his learning is like handing a knife to one who cannot cut—he pursues only mystical abstractions, neglects practical use, and ultimately cannot apply his knowledge to govern."

"Have you absorbed even a fraction of your tutor's teachings?"

If the Emperor's earlier words had only slightly stirred Zhao Wang Zhigao,

This sentence left him deeply ashamed.

The tutor the Emperor referred to was Zhao Zhao Zhenji.

These words were, in fact, Zhao Zhao Zhenji's own original lecture to Hanlin aspirants.

Contrary to certain stereotypes, Zhao Zhao Zhenji was a man of great responsibility.

During the Gengxu Crisis, when the Emperor Jiajing Emperor sought counsel, all six ministries and nine ministers remained silent—"the officials gathered, yet not a word was spoken all day."

When asked, Xu Jie could only offer a hollow reply: "You must have a good strategy."

Only Zhao Zhao Zhenji "rolled up his sleeves" and stepped forward, accepting the command—"No one has been granted authority to command the generals."

Likewise, though Old Zhao loved lecturing, he insisted: "Strive to become a sage—lecturing must clarify one's purpose."

He mocked those who lectured but did nothing: "Pursuing mystical abstractions, neglecting practical use."

Only magic can defeat magic.

Zhu Zhu Yijun directly invoked Zhao Wang Zhigao's own teacher to condemn his conduct.

He watched Zhao Wang Zhigao silently, waiting for his reaction.

…

Outside Chengtian Gate, numerous government offices meant many tongues.

Especially when the Emperor merely reviewed the Ministry of Personnel, yet chose to hold a formal audience with court officials.

Officials from all departments watched, inquired, and inevitably whispered among themselves.

Especially the Hanlin Academy, separated from the Ministry of Personnel only by the Ministry of Works' Imperial Carriage Storage, had already gathered in small groups, loudly debating.

In Zhao Wang Zhigao's usual office, four desks stood—two were empty.

The two remaining Hanlin officials sat at their desks, conversing across the room.

"The Emperor has been too heavily influenced by the Grand Secretary and the Duke of Ding'an."

"Tu Buitang and Zhao Zhao Ruma have surely never endured such humiliation in their lives."

A young man, no more than twenty, dressed in Hanlin robes, wrote as he spoke, sighing.

The events next door quickly spread to all the government offices.

Many voiced outrage on behalf of Tu Tu Xiying—how could a senior fourth-rank official be so publicly humiliated?

It was far too harsh!

At least, Yu Yu Shenxing thought so, which was why he couldn't help revealing his feelings.

Li Li Changchun, upon hearing this, seemed not to grasp its meaning, and replied casually: "Nothing advances without counsel, nothing is deterred without punishment—especially in governance."

"His Majesty's personal example stems not only from the moral guidance of the two Grand Secretaries, but also from the verbal instruction of the lecture officials."

"I understand this principle well enough—no need for lecture officials to claim credit here."

Although Yu Yu Shenxing was only twenty-nine, he had passed the imperial examination early.

After five years of grinding in the Hanlin Academy, he had now been appointed as the Emperor's daily lecture official, delivering lessons before the throne.

Perhaps due to his good background and early success, Yu Yu Shenxing often spoke without restraint.

For instance, regarding the matter of official age, he privately wrote essays and discussed them widely.

It was somewhat frivolous.

In contrast, Li Li Changchun.

Though the same age as Yu Yu Shenxing, and even ranked first in the Second Class—sixty places higher than Yu Yu Shenxing—

He was held back by his Sichuan origins: no local faction supported him, he lacked access to Confucian scholarly resources, and his official career lagged even behind Yu Yu Shenxing's.

After enduring the harshness of officialdom, Li Li Changchun's conduct gradually grew cautious.

Yu Yu Shenxing shook his head and corrected: "It's not about claiming credit—I believe the Examination System is pushing reform too hastily."

"I know the Grand Secretariat seeks to swiftly reverse decline and correct official misconduct—its intent is noble, but it is far too harsh!"

"Affairs from the past three years are now compressed into a single year."

"Even we, in our haste to meet deadlines, neglect the refinement of our texts—how much worse for local magistrates? They may resort to brutal coercion to avoid punishment, harming the people!"

From Yu Yu Shenxing's perspective:

Zhao Wang Zhigao occasionally giving lectures was no real issue—after all, compiling the Veritable Records was never urgent.

In past practice, it took four years after the death of the Shizong Emperor before compiling began—who had ever rushed?

But the moment the Examination System was introduced, the Grand Secretariat acted like a death sentence, slashing deadlines—leaving Zhao Wang Zhigao, who loved lecturing, unable to complete his assigned duties.

This was not Zhao Wang Zhigao's fault—it was clearly the Examination System's excessive harshness!

Poor, innocent Zhao Wang Zhigao was now summoned to the Ministry of Personnel to be scolded and humiliated.

Li Li Changchun rolled his eyes at this.

Could it be that, in the past, ten or more men took three to five years to write a six-year Veritable Record—wasn't that simply too idle?

But since they shared the same office, he couldn't speak too bluntly.

He settled for a jest: "Wu Wu Zhonghang invited you to petition at the palace gates this morning—you should've just gone along with it."

Yu Yu Shenxing, seeing Li Li Changchun didn't want to discuss it, gave him an annoyed glance.

But hearing Li Li Changchun mention Wu Wu Zhonghang, he couldn't help reflecting: "To be fair, Wu Wu Zhonghang made the right gamble this time."

"I just heard His Majesty took Wu Wu Zhonghang and others with him to the Ministry of Personnel—his reputation and imperial favor were likely secured in one stroke."

Li Li Changchun muttered under his breath: "They've offended everyone."

Yu Yu Shenxing was about to speak.

Suddenly, someone entered the office—it was his fellow graduate, Wang Jiaoping.

Seeing Wang Jiaoping, both men fell silent at once.

Though Wang Zhongbo was only seven years older, he was impossible to get along with—at least, not as a friend to casually discuss current affairs with.

Wang Jiaoping never gave anyone a bad look, because he never gave anyone a good one; privately, they weren't sure, but during duty hours, neither had ever seen him smile.

Moreover, Wang Jiaoping was upright, rigid, and formal—within the Hanlin Academy, they privately called him "The Upright One."

Whether this was praise or a mocking nickname was unclear.

At first, all the Hanlin scholars assumed he was merely seeking fame and reputation.

When Wang Jiaoping was compiling the Veritable Records and came across Gao Jie, the elder brother of Gao Gong, who had bribed Zhao Zhao Wenhua while serving as Censor of Jiangdu, Gao Gong specifically instructed Wang Jiaoping to obscure the truth. Wang Jiaoping simply swept his sleeve aside and walked out.

When others learned of this, following the custom of mutual flattery, they began praising his integrity.

Logically, since everyone had boosted his reputation, he should've returned the favor next time.

But when it came time for Wang Jiaoping to lift the sedan chair, he remained unmoved—refusing to join the crowd.

Only then did they realize: this man didn't just defy superiors—he didn't even spare his colleagues' faces!

To not be shunned was already lucky; colleagues dared not speak to him of anything out of bounds.

Li Li Changchun cleared his throat and changed the subject: "Zhongbo, have you returned from the Court of Imperial Clan Affairs? How did Zhao Zhao Ruma fare in his audience at the Ministry of Personnel?"

The Court of Imperial Clan Affairs and the Ministry of Revenue were separated from the Ministry of Personnel by only one wall—many officials had been eavesdropping today.

Though Wang Jiaoping had gone to the Court of Imperial Clan Affairs to deliver documents, he would surely have paid attention.

Wang Jiaoping had just sat down, and without looking up, replied: "Nothing much. His Majesty was displeased with the delay in compiling the Veritable Records and used Zhao Zhao Guanshi's words to reprimand Zhao Zhao Ruma."

Li Li Changchun and Yu Yu Shenxing exchanged glances.

That's "nothing much"? What's the difference from pointing at his nose and scolding him?

Yu Yu Shenxing asked curiously: "And then?"

Wang Jiaoping looked up at Zhao Wang Zhigao's empty seat, his expression odd: "He reportedly bowed and admitted fault, and will publish a public apology to Zhao Zhao Guanshi tomorrow, promising to dissolve the Beijing University Society and not speak publicly about lectures again until his scholarship is perfected."

"His Majesty specifically summoned the Wu Tongzheng Office and ordered that the newspaper be delivered to Zhao Zhao Guanshi's home in Neijiang, Sichuan."

Li Li Changchun burst out laughing.

Then quickly covered his mouth.

He cleared his throat twice and feigned a sigh: "Zhao Zhao Guanshi once said, 'To serve is to study—there is ease in mastery.' When Zhao Zhao Ruma achieves such mastery, and no longer ranks low in the Examination, he may reopen his lecture platform."

Yu Yu Shenxing wasn't as cruel as Li Li Changchun.

He felt sympathy instead, sighing: "His Majesty is far too harsh."

Publishing a public apology was excessive humiliation.

It had been clearly stated that even those who received a low rating could still correct their ways within a deadline.

Wang Jiaoping suddenly spoke: "It's not that His Majesty is harsh—it's simply that 'everything has a beginning.'"

"Besides reprimanding Tu Butang and Zhao Zhao Ruma, His Majesty has also greatly praised several who excelled under the Examination System."

All three men present had memorized historical texts and anecdotes by heart.

"Everything has a beginning: it is easy to act at the outset; it is hard to begin without a proper start."

When a task is undertaken at its inception, it is easier; if you begin without a proper foundation, it becomes difficult.

Wang Jiaoping, speaking from the perspective of central governance, was of course correct.

But Zhao Wang Zhigao being made an example was undeniable.

It all depended on whose perspective you took.

Yu Yu Shenxing silently shook his head.

Wang the Upright refused to speak for his colleagues, instead delivering a detached, "reasonable" commentary—no wonder colleagues disliked him.

Yu Yu Shenxing fell silent; the room grew awkward.

Li Li Changchun smoothly took over: "Who were the ones rewarded?"

It was said that those rated excellent in the three-year evaluation would be promoted.

Li Li Changchun was naturally curious about what kind of performance earned an "excellent."

Wang Jiaoping, still writing furiously at his desk, replied offhandedly: "For instance, Wang Wang Yongji, Assistant Commissioner of the Ministry of Revenue."

"In the two prefectures of Shuntian and Hejian—Bazhou, Wuxing, Wenan, Dacheng, and Jinghai counties—the original reed land quota was 4,577 hectares, with annual tax revenue of 9,154 taels, stored in the Jieshen Treasury."

"But during this year's audit, the Ministry of Revenue discovered that only one or two percent of the tax had ever been collected—most of it had merely enriched local gentry and filled the pockets of clerks."

"The Ministry of Personnel and the Censorate rated him 'excellent' for exposing corruption in the capital region."

"Or Wang Wang Xijue, Vice Minister of Justice in Nanjing."

"This year, there were 397 death-row prisoners in the Northern Nan Zhili region—countless were wrongfully imprisoned and suffering. Once brought before the courts, they were silenced, accused of theft without proof, tortured relentlessly, forced to confess, and falsely incriminated with stolen goods."

"In contrast, in the Southern Nan Zhili region, Vice Minister Wang personally oversaw every case, assigning each death-row prisoner to investigators who thoroughly understood their origins and circumstances, interrogating them in exhaustive detail, restoring justice to the people and upholding the authority of the judicial system—rated 'excellent.'"

Wang Jiaoping spoke calmly; Li Li Changchun fell into thought.

Everything has a beginning.

Those who failed in the first few years were punished most severely—but those rewarded now were rewarded most lavishly.

It was too late this year to find a way in.

But now that the model cases were set, next year might still be worth striving for.

Thinking of this, Li Li Changchun smirked: "I wonder if anyone in our idle Hanlin Academy can even get an 'excellent' rating."

No sooner had he spoken.

The door opened again.

All three looked up.

In rushed their superior, Wang Wang Xilie, Junior Assistant to the Crown Prince and Director of the Hanlin Academy.

The three immediately rose to bow.

"Master Wang."

"Teacher."

Wang Wang Xilie waved them off, hurriedly saying: "Quickly—the Emperor is coming to the Hanlin Academy! Come with me to greet him!"

He turned to Wang Jiaoping, opened his mouth as if to speak, then hesitated.

In the end, he couldn't help adding: "When you receive your reward, don't speak ill of your colleagues."

One more chapter should come later.