Chapter 246: 166. Chapter 165: The Assembly

166. Chapter 165: The Assembly's Selection, Men of the Wilds

In the Ming dynasty, official and gentry families routinely violated architectural regulations, and such violations were a staple accusation in political rivalries.

For instance, among the many damaging materials against Zhang Zhang Juzheng was a fabricated claim: "Zhang Jiangling's blood and essence are drained, yet he has built forbidden palaces"—which is why one must never trust wild histories; had Zhang Zhang Juzheng truly built palaces in Zhang Jiangling, some archaeological trace would surely remain.

Yet while a few were false, most were genuine.

Within Puzhou City in Shanxi, where so many officials passed through, ministers of the Nine Courts and high-ranking officials were commonplace, making architectural violations especially ordinary.

It was said that, with so many officials, mansions stretched endlessly, pavilions towered high, their eaves brushing the city walls.

Some were built at the officials' own desire; others, perhaps, were unauthorized additions by family members behind the master's back.

It was rumored that Zhang Zhang Siwei, the former Minister of Rites who had retired to observe mourning, belonged to the latter group—unaware of his family's transgressions.

After serving in court for twenty years, only upon returning home did he learn the truth, after which he began to restrain his clan and reform family discipline.

The imposing, regulation-violating gate of his mansion was torn down by Zhang Zhang Siwei's own hands, leaving only a simple, modest entrance.

Perhaps those with true prestige and power need no such ostentatious adornments.

At least, the guests passing now before this plain, humble gate showed no less reverence than before—indeed, even more.

A group of Shanxi merchants, trembling, followed the Zhang household steward, heads bowed, as they entered the humble gate of the Zhang mansion.

Aside from the plain gate.

The depth of the compound, the courtyards, the height of the buildings—all had been rebuilt and repaired to comply with Ming regulations.

Clearly, that old Master Zhang, after serving as Minister of Rites, had become exceedingly strict in his adherence to ritual propriety.

The group passed through halls and courtyards until they reached a neglected side courtyard.

"The Master is in mourning; for the past half-year he has lived in this detached pavilion, fasting and chanting sutras. Please do not find it too humble," the steward ahead explained courteously.

The Shanxi merchants quickly replied they dared not.

The courtyard was called neglected only because weeds grew wild.

In truth, the scenery was not bad at all.

Especially the small lake dug in the center, its landscape winding and pleasing to the eye.

The group crossed a bridge to reach a thatched hut on the lake's edge; the steward stopped and gestured for the merchants to enter directly.

The merchants exchanged glances, their expressions troubled by the humble hut; one clenched his teeth and stepped forward boldly.

They pushed open the door.

Inside, the hut radiated serenity, simple and elegant, filled with the scent of sandalwood.

A spirit tablet stood at the center, below it incense, a meditation cushion, and a man kneeling half-bowed upon it, softly reciting sutras.

The Shanxi merchants grew uneasy and bowed respectfully.

"Chief Merchant."

"Master Zhang."

"Chief Merchant."

Zhang Zhang Siwei appeared oblivious, hands clasped, murmuring sutras.

The merchants dared not disturb him, enduring the wait in agony.

After a long while,

Zhang Zhang Siwei changed posture, clasping his hands over his forehead and bowing deeply toward the spirit tablet.

After rising slowly, he fixed his gaze on them: "Why didn't you come to me before you started your business?"

"Now that trouble has come, you remember me?"

"What have I done to earn such disrespect?"

The merchants' faces changed.

One hurriedly explained: "Chief Merchant! I didn't avoid you—I just assumed you never interfered in these matters before, and I didn't think to consult you!"

No sooner had he spoken than the man who had entered first suddenly knelt and wailed: "Chief Merchant, I know I'm wrong! I shouldn't have broken the merchant guild's ban and operated privately!"

"For the sake of our twenty-seven years of friendship, please help me this time!"

The other merchants turned pale, at a loss.

Zhang Zhang Siwei fell silent for a moment, then sighed.

He reproached: "I am now a commoner—don't kneel to me so readily. It violates propriety, and outsiders will laugh."

Saying this, he reached out and helped the man up.

He looked around at the others, his expression solemn: "We have been friends for years. Since you've come to me, I'll speak plainly."

"The world now stands at its twilight: the state faces dire hardship, border threats recur, famines erupt, demons appear, and the people flee."

"That is why, half a year ago, I proposed we Shanxi merchants unite, merging all guilds—so we may aid the realm above and preserve ourselves below."

"You, Chief Wu, said that in the past, the guild never interfered in individual affairs—that's fine."

"But I must say this: if you refuse to eat from the same pot, then when trouble strikes, I have no reason to help you."

"Don't you agree, Chief Wu?"

Zhang Zhang Siwei wore coarse hemp robes, a mourning cap, and over it a plain Daoist cloak; merely his bearing made him seem distant and unapproachable.

Combined with his calm expression and icy words, his stance was unmistakable.

Chief Wu's face turned anxious; he quickly yielded: "Chief Merchant, that's not what I meant..."

Zhang Zhang Siwei raised a hand to cut him off.

Then he shook his head: "You secretly conspired with the barbarian chief Bin Tu to smuggle goods—betraying me is one thing..."

"He led over a thousand cavalry last year to raid the Western Tribes and sought trade in Liangzhou. How can you, by aiding such an enemy, justify yourself to the state?"

"I say it's fortunate you were robbed by the White Lotus Sect—if the court had found out, it would have meant extermination of your entire clan."

"I cannot help you with your troubles."

Upon hearing this, Chief Wu knelt and begged frantically.

Zhang Zhang Siwei ignored him, turning to another: "And you, Chief Cao, don't think I hold a grudge because your salt trade competes with mine—those few coins mean less than our friendship."

"I simply cannot understand: now that the state has revived the Open-Market System, when everything is in ruins, how can you bear to sabotage it by smuggling salt? Do you have no regard for the people or the state's greater good?"

"If no one exposed you, you might have fooled the heavens—but now Yin Yin Shidan has made you an example, and the official documents have reached the prefecture. Do you truly believe my word carries more weight than Yin Yin Shidan's?"

"I cannot help you with your matter."

Saying this, Zhang Zhang Siwei surveyed them all and sighed: "You refuse to stand together with the guild, complaining that profits are no longer as great as before—why didn't you come to me? I could have taken a loss myself, given you a share."

"Why must you engage in business that betrays the state?"

"If trouble has struck you all simultaneously, isn't that fate's doing?"

He waved his hand, dismissing them.

Seeing Zhang Zhang Siwei speak so harshly, they all grew anxious, drenched in cold sweat.

One after another, they began to plead and beg for mercy.

Zhang Zhang Siwei remained unmoved.

The door opened again; the steward stood at the threshold, gesturing for them to leave.

Their expressions varied: some clenched their teeth and departed, others looked hollowed out, some wore bitter grimaces, and they turned away one by one.

The man who had first knelt and begged lingered last; he did not leave immediately, but bowed deeply again and pleaded: "Chief Merchant, please help me! I know I'm wrong now—I'll obey the guild... no, I'll obey you! You say east, I'll never go west!"

Saying this, he banged his head against the floor repeatedly.

Zhang Zhang Siwei stared at him for a long while.

When blood appeared on the floor, Zhang Zhang Siwei finally nodded slightly: "Your family was kidnapped by bandits from Lao Qiushan—I can send a message, at best. I'll try."

Then he added solemnly: "Tea-horse trade is safe within official markets because you stand behind the court and the state. But privately? Violating the law is one thing—black-market violence is beyond any control."

The man breathed a sigh of relief, swearing fervently he would never repeat such acts.

Then he wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and stumbled away, disheveled.

After the others had left, the room fell silent again.

The sandalwood burned quietly; Zhang Zhang Siwei casually removed his Daoist cloak and hung it over the chairback.

"Bring Third Master here."

He instructed the steward at the door, then stood by the window, gazing at the lake.

Not long after,

Sounds came from outside.

Zhang Zhang Sijiao pushed open the door.

He walked to Zhang Zhang Siwei's back and softly called: "Big Brother."

Looking at his brother's silhouette, Zhang Zhang Sijiao felt that over the past half-year, his brother's authority had grown heavier.

More oppressive than when he held high office before.

He often had the illusion

That since their father's death, this elder brother had become his new father.

Zhang Zhang Siwei did not turn: "The chickens are slaughtered; things should proceed smoothly now. Do as you will."

"But... since I entrusted you with business matters, don't make me intervene every time. My energy is limited."

Zhang Zhang Sijiao accepted the reprimand humbly: "I'll be more careful next time, Big Brother."

Zhang Zhang Siwei nodded: "Don't blame me for pushing you—Sidan and your nephews remain in Beijing. I have few I can trust. You have no room left for idle pleasures."

Zhang Zhang Sijiao pressed his lips together and said seriously: "I fear moving too slowly might delay your affairs."

Zhang Zhang Siwei turned, sat down on the chair: "Oh, by the way—release Chen's family."

He had nearly forgotten this.

After seeing his younger brother agree, Zhang Zhang Siwei asked about the matter at hand: "What news has come from Beijing lately?"

Zhang Zhang Sijiao did not dare delay, and quickly recounted the events in Beijing: "Recently, Qi Qi Jiguang left Beijing and returned to Jizhen, traveling together with Bai Yunzhong, the Left Deputy Commander of the Shenji Camp sent to Liaodong for rotation duty."

"Shi Minister said that before leaving, the Emperor personally pulled him aside and instructed him on imperial archery and swordplay."

"Then the Emperor, along with his uncle and Shi Minister, again discussed the Duoyan Guard. In front of the Grand Secretariat and the Ministry of War, Qi Qi Jiguang swore a military oath."

"When Qi Qi Jiguang departed, the Emperor personally saw him off, watching as he took away two hundred thousand taels in reward silver, before returning to the Western Garden."

Zhang Zhang Siwei listened in silence.

After a long while, he sighed: "Such honors on their first meeting—was it because he is a famed general? Or because he is Tan Lun's old subordinate?"

After saying this, his expression turned sorrowful: "Actually… I still don't understand how the Emperor distinguishes closeness from distance."

"Strictly speaking, am I not also a distinguished minister? Am I not also a trusted confidant of Gao Gong and Zhang Zhang Juzheng? Why then is he so dismissive of me?"

Seeing his brother's state, Zhang Zhang Sijiao comforted him: "Perhaps it's jealousy—maybe he envies you. I've read novels where such arrogant emperors envy famous ministers. Last time I read one about a dog emperor envying Yue Fei."

Zhang Zhang Siwei, though accustomed to deceiving others, had never deceived himself.

"Let's not speak of this," he chuckled wryly, changing the subject. "Now that Qi Qi Jiguang has returned, he'll surely move against the Duoyan Guard."

Zhang Zhang Sijiao hesitated a moment, asking cautiously: "Brother, are you planning to…?"

Zhang Zhang Siwei did not answer directly, but deflected the question with a meaningful tone: "I have my own plans."

He knew what his brother was worried about.

After all, it was Qi Qi Jiguang.

A man's name, a tree's shadow.

When Qi Qi Jiguang fought in the southeast, even Zhang Zhang Siwei, who cared little for military affairs, had often heard of his renown.

He was a famed general whose battles resulted in losses of merely a dozen men!

A dozen men—what does that mean!?

It's not about how much stronger his troops were compared to the Japanese pirates—after all, the Japanese pirates were scattered bandits, unorganized; crushing them was hardly surprising.

Rather, major battles are often opportunities to falsify reports.

These regional commanders and viceroys routinely claim to have captured tens of thousands, while suffering only thousands of casualties—why? Precisely to falsify the records.

Yet Qi Qi Jiguang's losses of merely a dozen men each time mean he neither embezzled rations nor falsified casualty compensation!

The implications here are far more direct and terrifying than mere combat strength.

What kind of military discipline must that be?

When his uncle prepares to deploy such a man against the Duoyan Guard, the fate of this minor faction is already sealed.

If I were to act foolishly and interfere, I'd not only fail to gain anything, but risk being caught red-handed.

So his brother's concern is entirely natural.

Yet Zhang Zhang Siwei also had no desire to explain—just as Wang Wang Chonggu had once refused to explain military matters to him outside the Honglu Temple, Zhang Zhang Siwei now had no patience to elaborate further to his brother.

A flicker of worry passed through Zhang Zhang Sijiao's eyes, but he had no choice but to suppress it.

He continued recounting events in Beijing: "Besides this, after the metropolitan examination ended, Wang Wang Shizhen announced he would host a literary gathering."

"He has extended broad invitations to scholars still in Beijing."

Zhang Zhang Siwei, being a scholar himself, immediately grew interested and asked curiously: "What kind of literary gathering?"

Literary gatherings always had themes; participants could decide whether to attend based on interest.

He asked mainly on behalf of his younger brother and son in the capital.

If it were beneficial, he would surely write to urge them to participate.

Even merely appearing at a literary gathering hosted by the leader of the literary world could bring immense prestige in scholarly circles.

Zhang Zhang Sijiao shook his head: "No theme has been set yet—only that it will be held around the time of the results' announcement."

Zhang Zhang Siwei pondered for a moment, then said slowly: "Write to me and tell Sduan and the others to prepare. See if they can make a name for themselves."

Zhang Zhang Sijiao agreed.

He continued: "Besides this, Li Zhi's debate with the Donglin Academic Journal has intensified. I hear Master Xue has personally entered the fray."

"Even Qian Qian Dehong and Wang Ji—the direct disciples of Wang Wang Yangming—and the Three Masters and Seven Witnesses have all begun appearing publicly in Beijing."

He added at last: "It's said the Kong family is already on their way to the capital."

Zhang Zhang Siwei frowned: "What is the court's reaction?"

Zhang Zhang Sijiao recalled the news from Beijing before replying: "The court is in chaos."

"Disciples of Wang Xue have recently submitted memorials demanding Wang Wang Shouren be enshrined in the Confucian Temple. Grand Secretary Zhang Zhang Juzheng has strongly opposed it, and the two sides are locked in fierce dispute."

"Meanwhile, the newly appointed Wu Tongzheng Minister Ni Ni Guangjian has been repeatedly accused of misusing public authority for personal gain. He has petitioned to establish a separate bureau for the official gazette and new newspapers, no longer under the Wu Tongzheng Office's jurisdiction—but no decision has been reached."

He paused, then concluded: "It seems a scholastic conflict is about to erupt… I wonder if the Emperor finds the realm not chaotic enough."

Zhang Zhang Siwei fell silent for a moment, murmuring as if to himself—or perhaps asking Zhang Zhang Sijiao: "What kind of man do you think the Emperor is?"

Zhang Zhang Sijiao hesitated, unsure whether to answer: "Erm… he's a foolish…"

He stopped mid-sentence, thought better of it, and shook his head: "Brother, I don't know."

Zhang Zhang Siwei did not expect his brother, who had never met the Emperor, to offer any insight.

He spoke to himself: "The Emperor is still six months away from thirteen."

"Though he appears precocious, and both court and palace dare not treat him as a child, his age cannot be changed."

"He possesses the most common trait of his age—arrogance."

"Whether supporting new policies, reforming the salt law, or now inciting scholastic conflict—all are merely his arrogant attempts to reshape the empire into the image he desires."

"As for whether he succeeds?"

"If he succeeds, it's his triumph. If he fails, it's merely everyone playing along with his game."

"A ten-year-old Son of Heaven—how can he govern the realm…?"

"Ha. This is precisely what Gao Gong feared most—and truly, he was right about nothing."

Zhang Zhang Siwei laughed bitterly, his thoughts unreadable.

Zhang Zhang Sijiao, half-understanding, finally asked after a long pause: "Brother, are you saying the Emperor holds a grudge against Wang Xue?"

Zhang Zhang Siwei shook his head in silence.

Wang Xue? It's closer to Confucianism!

How presumptuous.

But he did not wish to explain further, waving his hand: "Enough for now. I must meditate."

"Pay more attention to the merchants' association. Take six-tenths of my share and distribute it to my uncle, Shi Minister, and Hu Du Hai Yushi."

"Try to send more people into the palace—artisans, physicians, eunuchs—all are acceptable."

Though he had once clashed with Wang Wang Chonggu and others before leaving the capital, Zhang Zhang Siwei now actively nurtured these relationships.

Zhang Zhang Siwei gave his final instruction, ending the conversation with his brother.

Zhang Zhang Sijiao hesitated, then asked: "What of Wang Jiaoping?"

Zhang Zhang Siwei shook his head: "He is an upright man—one who speaks plainly, one thing is one thing, two is two. No extra effort is needed to maintain ties; a thread of goodwill is enough."

Zhang Zhang Sijiao bowed respectfully, then prepared to leave.

At that moment—

The door to the room suddenly knocked.

Both men turned instinctively toward the door.

Zhang Zhang Sijiao, who was about to depart, walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside.

He spoke a few words to the person outside.

Zhang Zhang Siwei recognized the voice of the steward.

That meant news from Beijing or Ban Sheng.

Sure enough, after a while, Zhang Zhang Siwei opened the door and stepped out.

He walked up to Zhang Zhang Sijiao and whispered: "Brother, the Emperor has issued an edict to select consorts!"

Zhang Zhang Siwei looked up in shock.

Today, while scrolling through videos, I came across one where a viewer searched for a deactivated uploader, moved by the gesture, and checked my abandoned previous novel.

Some readers even asked in the comments if I was feeling better, if I'd stopped coughing up blood—I didn't know what to say.

Thank you to all my readers.

Lately, things have been busy and my health hasn't been good; last night, for the first time in a while, I slept well.

I'm grateful for your patience with the updates. Thank you all.

I also appreciate everyone's tolerance for the updates; thank you all.