Chapter 281: Stars Hang Over the Purple Pole, Seeking Order Amid Chaos

New policies have never been about inviting guests to dinner.

Gui E, who petitioned in the eighth year of Jiajing to verify landholdings, was forced to retire from the Grand Secretariat that same year.

A minister who impeached the Grand Secretariat could not escape being slandered into ruin.

Rulers of foreign states who collected over seventy percent in taxes had laws piled atop their coffins to prevent corpse-revival.

Any intervention by the central authority in distribution invariably brought blood and storm.

Zhu Yijun, who had long been prepared, now had no intention of sparing anyone's face.

All matters—stellar omens, celestial changes, the Chief Grand Secretary's retention in office—were laid bare on the table.

At this moment, he subjected Zhao Jin to a soul-searching question: were you opposing the Chief Grand Secretary's retention, or opposing the new policies?

The Son of Heaven's wrath naturally carried extraordinary power.

The entire altar, inside and out, above and below, fell utterly silent.

Only the biting wind remained, repeatedly pressing Zhao Jin for a response.

After what seemed an eternity, the Left Vice Minister of Rites finally stirred.

He sighed, slowly removed his crown, bowed with both hands to his forehead, and repeated the bow three times—yet as he knelt, he slowly shifted toward the right column.

Zhao Jin was sixty-four, and his movements were slow.

Yet each gesture carried an unmistakable, haunting weight.

Lu Guangzu, seeing this, hesitated a moment, then imitated him: after three bows to the Emperor, he removed his crown and knelt behind Zhao Jin.

Seeing this, the other civil officials suddenly understood—they shuddered, faces instantly pale.

A quiet clamor suddenly engulfed the southern suburbs.

Shen Sixiao, Ai Mu of the Ministry of Justice, Censor Tan Yao, and others all removed their crowns and knelt to the right.

In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen had moved from left to right.

Those originally standing in the right column either removed their crowns and knelt where they stood, or stepped fearfully toward the center, or sneered and moved to the left.

Chen Yubin, the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, stared blankly at this scene, kneeling on the ground, utterly lost.

"Did you see? This is the reply Zhao Vice Minister has given you and me. Do you still think this is merely about moral principles?"

Chen Yubin, hearing the voice, instinctively raised his head.

He saw the Emperor gazing at him with sincere earnestness.

Chen Yubin froze.

Was it the memory of three years of harmonious ruler-minister rapport? Or his father, Chen Yiqin, who had once served in the Grand Secretariat for the late Emperor?

Chen Yubin felt his mind a blur: "Your Majesty..."

Zhu Yijun shook his head, his tone tinged with pity: "Chen Qing, you were mistaken. In your three years as Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, you have indeed fulfilled your duties faithfully. Both I and your colleagues have seen it; even the wrongful prisoners you saved over these years have not tarnished your father's name."

Chen Yubin's heart had already been a storm of conflicting emotions; now, hearing these words from the Emperor himself, he could no longer hold back.

His face twisted, tears gushing forth: "Your Majesty, even if others use deception to obscure the truth, I swear—I have no thought in this matter but to uphold the moral order, nothing else!"

He broke into wailing sobs, voice hoarse with grief.

This act laid bare, with devastating clarity, the agony entangled between the Three Bonds and Five Constants and the bond of ruler and minister.

The ministers turned to look.

Zhang Han of the Ministry of Justice was the most moved.

He stood frozen for a moment, then glanced at the Emperor and Chen Yubin, clenched his teeth, and stepped forward.

Zhang Han covered his face and knelt: "Your Majesty, I did indeed meet with Chen Tingwei last night—but our words concerned only the Chief Grand Secretary's mourning period; I had not the slightest ill will toward Your Majesty or the new policies!"

"I beg Your Majesty to see clearly!"

As soon as he spoke, countless strange glances turned toward Zhang Han—the Minister of Justice, unquestionably the Emperor's loyalist, now revealed to have wavered after the stellar omen, secretly met Chen Yubin, and openly condemned Zhang Juzheng.

Zhang Han sighed inwardly; only he truly understood Chen Yubin's anguish.

The Emperor had shown him deep favor; Zhang Juzheng had been his patron; yet the eternal law of moral order loomed above them all.

The pain within him was beyond words.

Zhang Han slightly lowered his sleeve—and met the Emperor's disappointed gaze. His heart lurched.

Zhu Yijun was indeed disappointed.

Zhang Han's discontent over the retention issue was expected; what disappointed him was that nothing unexpected had occurred—was Confucian moral order truly this unyielding?

Zhu Yijun's gaze swept over Chen Yubin, weeping; Zhang Han, covering his face in shame; Chen Wude, hesitating; Wang Xijue, lips parted but silent...

He shook his head, sincerely: "Very well. Since you've said this much, let us settle this thoroughly today!"

"Let me rephrase: today, I revoke the retention of the Chief Grand Secretary. You may now choose sides for the new policies."

At these words, Chen Wude gasped: "Your Majesty will allow the Chief Grand Secretary to return home and observe mourning?!"

Not just him—other civil officials wore varied expressions.

Chen Yubin stopped crying.

Wang Xijue, Zhang Han, and others stared at him with concern.

Chen Younian tugged at Xu Fuyuan's sleeve.

Zhu Yijun did not answer Chen Wude's question. He turned to Shen Shixing.

He saw Shen Shixing dozing off, and raised his voice sharply: "Shen Shixing of the Ministry of Personnel—where are you?"

Shen Shixing jolted awake and stepped forward instinctively: "Your servant is here."

Zhu Yijun's face was expressionless: "Carry my verbal decree. The Secretaries shall draft the edict; you will draft the draft response for me."

"The matter of Zhang Juzheng's retention is rescinded. He is permitted to return home with the coffin and observe mourning for three months, as per regulation."

As soon as he spoke, the ministers who had just relaxed tightened their brows again.

What did "observe mourning for three months as per regulation" mean?

Were they treating the Chief Grand Secretary like a co-emperor?

Censor Tan Yao cried out: "A child is not released from his parents' embrace until three years have passed. Your Majesty, mourning must be three years!"

Zhu Yijun remained unmoved.

Shen Shixing understood instantly, turned, and announced loudly: "Censor Tan may not yet know—before the southern suburb sacrifice, the Ministry of Personnel posted the list of candidates selected for the Imperial Astronomical Bureau this year."

The ministers exchanged glances.

Tan Yao frowned: "What does this have to do with this matter?"

Shen Shixing scanned the court, solemnly: "Zhang Juzheng of Jiangling was appointed as Doctor of Timekeeping in the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, ninth rank."

The ministers finally understood.

Chen Yubin and Zhang Han both saw astonishment and helplessness in each other's eyes.

Chen Wude shook his head, bitter with self-mockery.

Lu Guangzu stared, speechless.

Zhao Jin's eyelid twitched.

Shen Shixing, ever dutiful, explained to the stunned Tan Yao: "Our dynasty's regulations state: for a three-year mourning period, officials must resign and observe mourning; those who retain office, conceal mourning, or shorten mourning are punished."

"Except for officials of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau: in the nineteenth year of Hongwu, the Taizu Emperor decreed they need not observe mourning; the following year, he permitted them to return after three months of mourning."

"Therefore, the Chief Grand Secretary must observe mourning for three months!"

The ministers watched Shen Shixing speak calmly, filled with absurdity.

They all knew this ancient law established by Taizu.

But for the Chief Grand Secretary to take the Imperial Astronomical Bureau examination? No one had anticipated it—the bureau had always been hereditary; the new examination system had simply not registered.

Some were dazed; some chilled; some relieved.

At that moment, a fit of intermittent laughter broke out.

It was Liu Tai, still present.

His face was vacant, his mouth emitting a foolish, hollow chuckle.

He finally realized.

The Emperor had prepared meticulously for Zhang Juzheng's retention.

He realized, too, how absurd he had looked when he stepped forward, head held high, crown in hand.

Retention, three-month mourning, exemption from mourning during military service—the Emperor had layered his preparations, even calculating the ancient regulations of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau!

The Emperor must have begun planning this since assuming personal rule!

Taizu's regulations... ancestral laws... turned into tools by the Emperor.

Liu Tai, he himself, had become a true joke.

Liu Tai's smile was vacant, his hands clawing randomly, swaying back and forth like a madman.

His colleagues quickly stepped away.

Embroidered Uniform Guards immediately advanced, each grabbing an arm, dragging him away.

Tan Yao, at last, came to his senses.

Still defiant, he shouted at Shen Shixing: "How can a Grand Secretary be an official of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau?!"

Shen Shixing, ever the conciliator, endured the subordinate's rage without flinching.

He replied calmly: "The rank of a Grand Secretary of the Palace Halls is merely fifth grade; holding additional posts is standard practice. Previously, they often held concurrent posts as Ministers or Vice Ministers of the Six Ministries—why not an appointment to the Imperial Astronomical Bureau?"

"Moreover, the examination for the Imperial Astronomical Bureau tests only scholarly ability, not official rank. If Censor Tan objects, we can debate it next year—but this year's results cannot be changed."

Ai Mu, still kneeling with his crown removed, could not help raising his head, staring in disbelief at Shen Shixing's sly face.

He sneered slowly: "Grand Secretary Shen, to achieve this, you are willing to treat the Emperor's newly established science examinations as a joke, and to privately hand out appointments—what else can we say?"

Shen Shixing's temper was truly good.

Facing such accusations, he still maintained patience and smiled: "Director Ai may have forgotten—these three sessions of the mathematics examination were all overseen by Governor Hai Rui, who took on the role while returning to the capital for his official report."

"If Director Ai distrusts the Grand Secretariat, the Ministry of Personnel, the Censorate, the Ministry of Personnel's Scrutiny Office, and the Bureau of Astronomy, at least trust a little in Governor Hai's reputation."

Upon hearing this, Ai Mu was momentarily speechless.

Tan Yao, standing nearby, grew angrier by the moment and was about to press further: "Even so—"

"Enough!"

Zhu Yijun's sharp rebuke snapped everyone's attention back.

He intended to deal with Tan Yao last, so he deliberately ignored him and turned to Chen Yubin before him: "Grand Secretary has observed mourning as prescribed—Chen, Minister of Justice, do you accept this?"

Chen Yubin, who had been weeping loudly moments before, rolled up his sleeves and wiped his face, then nodded firmly: "Ritual propriety, human ethics, and moral order—all are contained herein! How could I not accept it?"

Zhu Yijun nodded and turned to Chen Wude: "Chen, Censor-in-Chief, do you accept it?"

Chen Wude seemed to finally shed his burden and smiled with ease: "It conforms to ritual law and fulfills a minister's virtue."

Zhu Yijun's gaze swept slowly across Zhang Han, Wang Xijue, Chen Younian, and all the way to the last ranks of the court, encompassing every minister, and asked seriously: "What of you?"

Zhang Han and Wang Xijue bowed and assented.

Chen Younian pushed away Xu Fuyuan's restraining hand and declared loudly: "I vehemently opposed Grand Secretary's retention in office; but now, observing mourning as prescribed by law, I am fully convinced!"

Half of the remaining ministers fell silent; half bowed low.

Zhu Yijun, seeing this, showed no great sign of joy.

At last, he fixed his gaze on Tan Yao: "You've reached this point, yet still tried to coerce others—how much do you hate the New Policies?"

Tan Yao was momentarily speechless.

Zhu Yijun regarded him coldly.

If people like Chen Younian still had value to be persuaded, then Tan Yao—should he ever meet a decent end, then this emperor deserves to be struck by lightning.

Historically, when the Wanli Emperor faced a great drought, he likewise performed the ritual of prayer to heaven, and after confessing his faults, added privately: "Though my lack of virtue has caused this, it is also because officials across the realm are corrupt, break the law, oppress the people, and refuse to care for or nurture them, thus disturbing Heaven's harmony."

Tan Yao immediately retorted: "Feng Jing told Emperor Shenzong: 'Your Majesty's withdrawal from court and reduction of meals cannot turn Heaven's wrath; you must sincerely rebuke yourself and seek good counsel.' How many evils arose from the Xining reforms? How many people suffered under the Green Sprout, Security, and Market Exchange laws? Yet Feng Jing advised the sovereign to first blame himself."—The Xining New Policies triggered heavenly portents. After Wanli's New Policies came three years of drought—shouldn't you, this emperor, "blame yourself"?

He even dared say, "Why was it smooth before, but fails under you?"—as if state affairs were fine until he took the throne, and now all blame could be shifted to officials.

Such people, when speaking of moral order, are utterly ridiculous.

Especially Tan Yao now—still unrestrained, jumping about, oblivious to his own peril.

Zhu Yijun pressed coldly: "Tan, Censor, you speak constantly of human ethics and moral order."

"Then when you spread pamphlets yesterday, calling me a tyrant, where was your sense of ruler-minister duty!?"

The moment the emperor spoke, ministers changed color and turned to Tan Yao.

His face drained of all color, turning as white as paper.

His whole body trembled, on the verge of collapse.

Tan Yao glanced at Xu Wenbi of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, his lips quivering for a long while, yet he never cried out his innocence.

He could only struggle to defend himself: "Your Majesty, apart from my ill-chosen words, I still have a heart of pure loyalty!"

Zhu Yijun nearly laughed in disbelief.

He nodded: "Very well. Such a heart of pure loyalty—then you shall serve as a Doctor at the Imperial Academy, teaching ruler-minister ethics."

He then turned to He Luowen, the Director of the Imperial Academy: "He, Director, carve Tan the Doctor's deeds into the lecture hall. When the inscriptions fade from wind and rain, then let him retire."

Saying this, he ignored Tan Yao's stunned expression and waved for the Discipline Officer to drag him away.

Zhu Yijun looked down from his height and spoke solemnly: "I have now settled the matter of retention in office."

"Behind human ethics and moral order, there is no hiding place for your opposition to the New Policies."

"Now give me a clear answer."

"Who supports the New Policies? Who opposes them?"

No sooner had he spoken than Zhao Jin raised his head: "Your Majesty, before I retire, I have heartfelt words—please grant me your ear."

Zhu Yijun looked at Zhao Jin and shook his head with a wry smile: "Speak freely. Six hundred ministers here—I'll sway them all, even if only ten remain, I will push the New Policies through!"

From the moment the emperor forced ministers to take sides, the matter could no longer be resolved peacefully.

The emperor clearly intended to force Zhao Jin and his faction to retire.

Zhao Jin knew this well—otherwise he wouldn't keep speaking of "words before retirement."

This was their mutual understanding.

It was also the focal point of their struggle: could Zhao Jin and his faction be expelled outright?

Zhao Jin relied on the larger picture—most ministers opposed the New Policies; if the emperor expelled them all, the two capitals, nine borders, and thirteen provinces would immediately collapse.

So his "heartfelt words" were not meant for the emperor, but for his fellow ministers.

The emperor's confidence, however, lay in one thing—he could never take off his dragon robe.

As he said, even if only ten supported him, he could still board a boat on the Taiye Pool and hold another meeting.

With righteousness, military power, and the state treasury, how could he fear a lack of followers?

Each man's single sentence stirred the court ministers' thoughts.

Who, then, truly represented the greater good?

Zhao Jin lifted his head, studying the emperor's expression for a long while, then sighed softly: "Your Majesty, last night I dreamed that the Great Ming lasted only fifty years—then the Jurchens swept south, the imperial clan fled south, and all our robes and caps were buried at Yashan."

Zhu Yijun froze.

He eyed Zhao Jin suspiciously.

What was this?

Zhao Jin continued: "Then, in a haze, I remembered—it was my ancestors' story."

"I am the twenty-first-generation descendant of Emperor Taizu of Song. My ancestors crossed south to Zhejiang in the second year of Jingkang—four hundred and fifty years now."

Hearing this, Zhu Yijun exhaled in relief—he'd almost been fooled.

He cleared his throat lightly: "Zhao, you are an upright man—why resort to omens and prophecies?"

Zhao Jin shook his head: "Not omens. It is not I who grieves for the Song—my ancestors had no time to mourn; I, their descendant, mourn for them, so Your Majesty may learn from their fate."

"Many say the Two Emperors lost the state, but…"

"In my humble view, the fall of the Song began with the Xining Reforms!"

"After Wang Anshi's New Policies, the factional strife between old and new grew deafening, court chaos intensified, the people resented the state's exploitation, and local and central authorities clashed."

"Within sixty years, foreign tribes stormed in and shattered the imperial palace."

"Your Majesty, since Wanli's first year, hasn't our dynasty been sliding into that same abyss?"

"Today's Zhang Juzheng is precisely yesterday's Wang Anshi."

"Today's New Policies are precisely the Xining New Policies."

"Land surveying and population registration exploit the people more than the former Exemption, Green Sprout, and Market Exchange laws!"

"Since Zhang Juzheng took control of the Grand Secretariat, his methods have been harsher than Wang Anshi's! In Nan Zhili, Huguang, Sichuan, Shandong, Fujian—everywhere, the people cry out in grievance!"

"Since the New Policies began, factional strife at court has reached the point where Your Majesty demands we choose sides; local gentry and native officials fight back desperately; the treasury swells while the people grow poorer; and two years ago, the Tumens of the north established their own regime, watching us with hungry eyes."

"Your Majesty, how similar they are!"

"If you do not rein in now, I fear even sixty years may be too long!"

When Zhao Jin finished, the southern suburb fell silent again, save for the sound of his head striking the ground.

Even ministers who had thought him merely performative now fell into thought.

They all turned to look at the emperor.

But the emperor seemed lost in thought, showing no intention to debate.

Seeing Zhao Jin fall still, Zhu Yijun turned back: "Has Zhao, Minister, finished speaking?"

The emperor's reaction surprised Zhao Jin.

He managed a weak reply: "I speak at the risk of my life—Your Majesty, please reflect!"

Zhu Yijun nodded: "Then, since that is so, let the ministers declare their positions."

Zhao Jin opened his mouth, then closed it.

Seeing his expression, Zhu Yijun finally laughed: "Did you think I'd be unable to resist debating you?"

Hearing this, Shen Shixing couldn't help but shoot the emperor a silent glare.

The emperor's love of debate was legendary—he rarely passed up a chance to argue; otherwise, how did the judgment "wisdom sufficient to reject counsel" come about?

Now he was pretending to be restrained.

Zhu Yijun, unaware of the silent criticism, merely clasped his hands behind his back and sighed: "In these eight years, I've spoken a thousand or eight hundred arguments; I've debated countless people."

"Before my accession, I debated Lord Ding'an; when reforming salt policy, I debated Senior Minister Xu; when organizing the Daoist lineage, I debated the great masters; since taking personal rule, I've debated the censors who submitted anonymous memorials…"

"My throat is dry, my words exhausted."

"I have cultivated for years—I personally command the ten-thousand-strong Beijing garrison, the Taicang treasury and inner treasury hold tens of millions of taels of silver, the nine border commanders are my trusted limbs, and the governors of all thirteen provinces are my confidants. If I still plead and persuade, I risk losing the trust of these loyal ministers."

"Today, I have no more arguments to make—I only demand you declare your stance!"

"I will rebuild the Great Ming—will you follow me, or not?"

By the end, his voice was sharp and fierce; ministers all showed signs of fear.

Zhu Yijun gave a cold smile and turned away, refusing to look further.

Pushed to this point, the ministers had no room left.

Aside from Ma Ziqiang, who stood at the head of the right column, Shen Shixing, Wen Chun, Wang Guoguang, Zhu Heng, and others silently stepped to the left column.

Their expressions were calm, their resolve unshakable.

Wang Xijue moved forward, pushed past Wen Chun, and stood tall behind Shen Shixing.

Zhang Han and Chen Wude exchanged glances, then quietly stepped behind them.

Vice Minister of Personnel Chen Kai sighed and turned away, removing his cap and kneeling in the right column: "Your Majesty, the Great Ming has long been ill; administering a harsh remedy may only worsen its condition!"

"I humbly beg Your Majesty to reconsider!"

Saying this, he removed his cap and prostrated himself, requesting resignation.

Immediately after Chen Kai stepped forward, several others moved to the right column.

Vice Minister of Works Shi Yaochen stepped forward a moment later, also removing his cap and kneeling: "My abilities are mediocre; I am powerless to discern right from wrong. I humbly request to retire and return to my hometown."

Director of the Granary System Lin Lan followed closely behind, saying nothing, silently removing his cap and prostrating himself.

Another dozen or so men joined them.

Prefect of Shuntian Prefecture Jin Lijing choked back tears: "Your Majesty is a great and enlightened ruler; I hold you in the highest admiration."

"Yet in the turbulent waters of officialdom, with countless students, former subordinates, and kin bound by marriage, one often acts against one's will."

"From now on, I shall retire and become a carefree poet—this too may rid Your Majesty of a troublesome faction."

Zhu Yijun, who had been facing away, was moved by these words.

He slowly turned around and said with regretful blessing: "Though your official career has been fraught, your talent shall now flow like a spring."

Jin Lijing bowed his head again, saying nothing more.

With these senior officials leading the way, both sides no longer held back, openly taking their positions on left and right.

The two lines of civil officials lined up from left to right, then right to left.

The rustling of silk robes and the clinking of removed caps filled the air, making the southern suburbs eerily quiet.

Moments later.

The entire southern suburbs were now clearly divided into two factions.

On the right column, from Zhao Jin down through Lu Guangzu, Chen Kai, Lin Lan, Jin Lijing, Shi Yaochen—over one hundred and ninety men—had removed their caps and prostrated themselves.

On the left column, from Shen Shixing down through Wang Xijue, Wang Guoguang, Zhu Heng, Wen Chun, Zhang Han, Chen Wude—over four hundred and ten men—stood bowed in respect.

The dust settled.

The Embroidered Uniform Guards, who had gripped their blades throughout, finally lowered their weapons.

Zhu Yijun looked at Zhao Jin's bitter smile, intending to speak—but suddenly felt a deep weariness.

The Emperor's gaze swept over the assembly, and he sighed: "We have served together for years; today our policies diverge—this is truly regrettable."

"Let us make one final offering to Heaven together, fulfill the last bond between sovereign and minister, and then part ways."

Zhao Jin instantly lost all vigor, struggling to kneel.

Shen Shixing and the others watched coldly.

It was noon; the blue sky was dotted with clouds.

The sun passed overhead, timid in winter's chill, its light cautiously piercing through the clouds.

It fell upon the left and right sides of the southern suburbs.

Wang Shizhen, watching the Emperor's dignified bearing, felt profound emotion.

After a moment's thought, he revised his words and wrote: "... one hundred and ninety officials who offended Heaven's harmony offered prayers at the altar, whereupon heaven's light suddenly split, dividing yin and yang."

"A comet trailed its tail, a star hung above the Purple Forbidden Enclosure—this omen foretold: order emerging from chaos."

(End of Chapter)