[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-wanli-the-enlightened-emperor":3,"chapter-wanli-the-enlightened-emperor-wanli-the-enlightened-emperor-chapter-61":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Wanli, the Enlightened Emperor",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2321883,4542,"Chapter 61: 61. Living in the Capital Is Hard; the Mantis Shows Its Arms","wanli-the-enlightened-emperor-chapter-61",61,"\u003Cp>61. Chapter 61: Living in the Capital Is Hard; the Mantis Shows Its Arms\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>November 3rd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Due to visits and lectures along the way, Li Zhi had delayed considerably, but he finally arrived in the capital within the Ministry of Personnel’s final deadline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He bid farewell to the students who insisted on seeing him off—one of the gains from his lectures en route.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi walked alone toward the city gate, pulling his donkey cart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The nine gates of the capital did not charge head tax, but still levied commercial tax.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi entered the city pulling the donkey cart gifted by his students, laden with local specialties; several gate guards insisted on inspecting it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unfortunately for them, they met their match: Li Zhi cited classical texts to refute their demands, saying, “In the early years of Emperor Xiaozong, Censor Chen Yao stated that the tax officials at Chongwen Gate excelled in extortion, contrary to imperial dignity. The emperor then ordered that, aside from inspecting passenger goods, no vehicles be searched or obstructed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, there had long been an imperial decree since Xiaozong’s reign: aside from inspecting passenger goods, vehicles must not be arbitrarily searched or blocked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The gate tax official had intended to argue physically, but after discovering Li Zhi’s official documents appointing him to the National Academy, he was persuaded by Li Zhi’s reasoning and, finally, mercifully let the donkey cart pass without inspection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi marched into the city with his head held high.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, upon seeing that housing prices in the capital had risen further, his spirits sank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was why he had delayed so long before coming to the capital.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Living in the capital is exceedingly difficult.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi truly did not want to come to the capital; indeed, he had never been interested in officialdom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could no longer recall how he had been gradually pushed into this situation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At eight, a fierce fire burned in his heart: he declared himself stubborn and unyielding, disbelieving in learning, rejecting the Dao, rejecting immortals and Buddhists—thus he despised Daoists, loathed monks, and especially abhorred Confucian scholars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At twelve, his defiance grew stronger: he wrote “On the Old Farmer and the Old Gardener,” mocking Confucius.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At fourteen, while reading the Book of Documents, he bluntly called Zhu Xi’s annotations foul-smelling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had once believed himself a man of celestial destiny, the protagonist of history, destined to write and publish, eventually leaving these so-called sages far behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later, he realized he was wrong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not wrong in being inferior to these sages, but wrong in that these so-called sages had too many disciples.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So many that the entire world was bound by their rigid rules, making every step he took arduous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The saying “When Confucius barks, a hundred dogs follow” did not stem from his contempt for Confucius—he had no interest in belittling a long-dead moral figure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What he despised was not Confucius, but the pack of wild dogs behind Kong Qiu!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At fifteen, to pass the preliminary examination, he forced himself to study the so-called Confucian classics: the Four Books and Five Classics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At seventeen, his father pressured him to take the provincial examination, forcing him to pick up the Neo-Confucian texts he had once scorned: Zhu Xi’s commentaries.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At twenty-one, Li Zhi helplessly watched as his new bride, Huang Shi, forced to do needlework and eat coarse grains and wild vegetables due to their poverty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His wife, only fifteen, was diligent and virtuous; as the eldest daughter-in-law, she treated her sisters-in-law as if they were her own siblings and raised her younger relatives as if they were her own children—how could he ask her to share his poverty with him?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, Li Zhi compromised on officialdom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He compromised with his father, with his wife and children, and with the rigid rules.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, his talent was decent: at twenty-six he passed the provincial examination; at thirty he took up an official post outside the capital.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Li Zhi never imagined that the so-called quick money of officialdom came in what form.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To sink into corruption? Or to remain unstained amid filth?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The youthful Li Zhi chose moral integrity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unfortunately, the Ming dynasty’s salary system gave him a harsh lesson.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He served successively as a school instructor in Huixian, Henan; as a doctoral official at the Nanjing National Academy; and as a doctoral official at the Beijing National Academy, living in abject poverty—until, at thirty-eight, his wife and daughter starved to death in Huixian…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Li Zhi walked through the capital, his expression was complex as he gazed at every brick and tile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After his wife’s death, he returned to the capital to serve in the Ministry of Rites, but due to conflict with his superior, he voluntarily petitioned: “I am weary of the capital’s frivolous complexity; I beg to be transferred to the southern capital.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that time, he secretly swore he would never return to this place of intrigue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet why had he been summoned back? Because the emperor promised: “No one will control you; your salary will double; you may study in peace.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With mixed hope and doubt, Li Zhi returned to the capital alone, without his family.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The capital was as he remembered: bustling, crowded, teeming with people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi walked along the roadside, uneasy, avoiding unnecessary trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He happened upon a noodle stall: four simple tables by the road, a sign reading “Noodles,” a coal stove boiling broth, bubbling and steaming—his appetite stirred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought a moment, walked over, tied his donkey cart to a tree, and called out: “Master, two taels of noodles!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi had eaten nothing that day and was ravenous; he needed to rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, the vendor brought him a bowl of noodles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Please enjoy, sir,” the vendor said, placing the bowl down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the vendor turned to attend to other tasks, Li Zhi suddenly frowned and grabbed his arm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait!” Li Zhi lifted his chopsticks, lifting noodles from the bowl. “This isn’t two taels!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vendor jumped, quickly calming him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lowering his voice to plead: “Sir, we’re a small business—we wouldn’t cheat you. Besides, the inspectors come every few days; even if I had the nerve, I wouldn’t dare.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi, long accustomed to poverty, was a man who insisted on precision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew the vendor’s “inspectors checking weights”—the Capital Military Command’s Market Office inspected street measurements every three days, verifying prices and weights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he also knew that as long as shopkeepers paid their quota, the inspectors would turn a blind eye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi ignored the excuses: “I only ask you—does this bowl contain two taels?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vendor pleaded repeatedly, but seeing Li Zhi unmoved, finally relented: “Sir, I’ll add you a steamed bun.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi’s expression softened; he released the vendor: “The steamed bun only compensates for the shortfall! This bowl of noodles—I still owe you one cash.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vendor smiled bitterly, bowed, and turned to fetch the bun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only then did Li Zhi sit down comfortably and eat his noodles in large bites.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes kept glancing at the vendor, wary of him spitting into the bun, while listening to other diners chatter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...With such talent, why not take the imperial exams? Why waste time writing novels for a small newspaper?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You don’t understand. Look at the setting—Bimawen? That’s just the Imperial Horse Supervision. And all these bureaucratic slang—clearly written by some retired official.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nonsense! Where’s your proof? Just spouting nonsense here!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi watched the two men huddled over the new newspaper, suddenly remembering he had missed two installments of Journey to the West.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just then, the vendor approached with the steamed bun. Li Zhi nodded toward the newspaper: “Master, do you have these two latest issues?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vendor hesitated to refuse, fearing trouble; after thinking it over, he went and fetched two copies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he handed them over, he added: “Be careful not to damage them.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi waved him off, taking the newspapers in hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had intended to read the novel first, savoring it with the noodles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But one glance at the front page drew his eyes to a large headline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi frowned, muttering: “On Good and Evil… Learning… Attitude and Method? What a ridiculous title!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a critical mindset, Li Zhi put aside Journey to the West and began reading this seemingly flawed article.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the opening… oh, it was the emperor. He remembered now: the emperor had previously requested evidence of innate human nature.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No wonder—a ten-year-old boy naturally struggles with questions of good and evil. Li Zhi relaxed his standards for the boy’s reasoning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, using innate human nature as proof—however flawed, the approach was novel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let’s see what conclusion he reached.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he saw the emperor making arbitrary judgments, he shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How could one person alone make such a determination?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as he was about to criticize further, he read the final sentence—and raised an eyebrow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This young emperor, it seemed, had potential.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zhi did not immediately turn to the novel; instead, he flipped to the next issue of the newspaper. After all, no newspaper had ever published the emperor’s Confucian debates—anyone would be curious to see what followed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the next issue surprised Li Zhi even more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It announced that on the twenty-ninth of last month, the emperor had established a new academy, specifically to seek evidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the thirtieth, the emperor issued an edict asking: “How to obtain evidence? How to verify its authenticity?” Those who could provide substantial answers would be appointed to the new academy, granted official status, and receive a monthly salary of ten taels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Commoners and students debated the news eagerly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On November 2nd, yesterday, merchant Cheng Dawei posted a petition criticizing the emperor’s argument on good and evil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wrote: “A single example cannot prove good and evil. Only when ten, a hundred examples all conform can it be called evidence.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moreover, if he remains confused, why should only eunuchs guide toward good?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another must be appointed to guide toward evil; only by comparing both can truth be proven.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The emperor heard this, summoned Cheng Dawei personally, admitted his own shortcomings, and praised: “This is precisely the clarification I sought.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They spoke at length, agreeing to tentatively adopt the “experimental method” for studying good and evil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Following Cheng Dawei’s suggestion, the experimental method must yield reproducible results; otherwise, it cannot be called evidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Furthermore, the experimental method must include comparison: one positive, one negative, like yin and yang—otherwise, it is merely partial evidence and unacceptable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The emperor granted Cheng Dawei the title of visiting instructor at the new academy, with a monthly salary of ten taels, no requirement to be present daily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading this, Li Zhi skipped the rest of the discussion, his eyes fixed on “appointed position” and “monthly salary of ten taels.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He called the vendor over: “Master, where is this new academy built?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He must go see it—could he hold an official post alongside it?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, in the Qianqing Palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His Majesty slept in today, rising only after daylight had fully broken.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today, the late Emperor’s principal Empress Dowager was moved to his mausoleum for joint burial.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This grand sacrifice warranted a one-day suspension of studies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Afterwards, Zhu Yijun ordered Prince Consort Xu Congcheng to represent the Emperor in the rites, while he himself avoided the duty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He entrusted state affairs to the Grand Secretariat and delegated matters in the Two Huai regions to Hai Rui; finally, Zhu Yijun had no urgent matters to attend to.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Next, he could gradually maneuver to take control of the Beijing garrison; in his memory, Gu Huan should have died quite late.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun stretched, summoning palace attendants to help him change his robes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pondered whether to visit the training ground later or to inquire at the Ministry of Works about Zhu Heng’s great ship.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, Zhang Hong entered the hall, his expression tense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He even took over the task of dressing His Majesty himself, unilaterally dismissing the palace attendants.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before Zhu Yijun could ask, he whispered: “Master, the Ciqing Palace caught fire last night.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun snapped to attention: “Was the Empress Dowager injured?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His first thought was to ask after Empress Chen’s safety.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If a Dowager Empress were to perish in a fire now, the repercussions would be devastating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Hong hurriedly replied: “The fire was contained immediately; only a few eunuchs and palace maids were injured. The Empress Dowager is unharmed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Afterward, the Empress Dowager ordered all personnel in the Ciqing Palace detained and questioned each one personally.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I intended to send someone to the Qianqing Palace to report to His Majesty, but the Empress Dowager suspected I was trying to let someone escape, and detained me as well.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Hong quickly explained the situation, deliberately clarifying why he had not reported immediately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In that situation, had he insisted on sending someone away, he might have aroused Empress Chen’s suspicion of the Emperor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun exhaled in relief—so long as Empress Chen was unharmed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He spread his arms, allowing Zhang Hong to dress him, then asked solemnly: “Was the fire normal?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If it were merely an overturned candle, that would be one thing—but he feared someone had deliberately set it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Hong hesitated, then carefully replied: “The fire spread quickly, but not conspicuously.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun’s expression darkened; he said nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If it were deliberate, who could have done it? The Southern Zhili faction? The Two Huai’s agents? Or the Jin Party? Those opposed to the New Policies?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What was their goal? A warning? Sowing discord? Or trying to frame him?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only after dressing did Zhu Yijun speak in a low voice: “Let’s go to the Ciqing Palace.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Saying this, he swept his wide sleeves aside and strode out with urgency betraying his inner anxiety.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Hong hurried to follow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They traveled in silence, arriving quickly at the Ciqing Palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Zhu Yijun stood outside the Ciqing Palace, the stench of charred wood struck him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He slowed his steps and asked: “Is the Empress Dowager in her sleeping quarters?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Hong replied quickly: “The Empress Dowager is in the warm pavilion.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was natural she would not remain in her sleeping quarters after a fire; Zhu Yijun nodded and entered the Ciqing Palace, heading straight for the warm pavilion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Upon entering, he saw Empress Chen seated on a chair, propping her cheek with her hand, dozing off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing footsteps, she sat up abruptly and opened her eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing it was the Emperor, she relaxed slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your son pays his respects to Your Majesty,” Zhu Yijun bowed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Empress Chen rubbed her temples: “For now, I am well—but who knows what lies ahead?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun sensed the resentment in her tone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rose and stepped closer, massaging her temples as he asked: “Have you uncovered anything from your interrogations?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Empress Chen sighed: “An overturned candle, by accident.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun pressed: “Truly?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Empress Chen fell silent, sighing again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun remained quiet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That meant she had found nothing—but he could not publicly claim arson without knowing the culprit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The damage to the imperial dignity was secondary; the real danger was that it would breed suspicion between court and palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun ventured cautiously: “Do you have any leads, Mother?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Empress Chen looked at him strangely and replied: “I should be asking His Majesty—have you been stirring up trouble again lately?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Palace fires were common, and often had discernible causes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Empress Chen’s memory, during the two years when the late Emperor supported ocean trade, fires occurred frequently in the palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now that the Emperor had cut off communication between palace and court, she did not know what major events might be brewing outside—but from the fact that after Gao Gong’s departure, the Grand Secretariat insisted on meeting her, the court likely suspected the relationship between mother and son was deteriorating. Had she perished in the fire last night, the Emperor would have faced serious trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So it was less an attack on her than a consequence of the Emperor’s own provocations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, Li Jin entered the warm pavilion: “Your Majesty, Empress Dowager—the court ministers, upon hearing of the Ciqing Palace fire, have sent envoys to offer condolences.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhu Yijun’s eyes flashed; he clicked his tongue: “News travels fast!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stopped massaging and turned to Empress Chen: “Mother, let me handle this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One more chapter—either around 10 p.m., or tomorrow’s update.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some work matters—I’ll submit a progress report and update tasks this weekend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Note 1: In the tenth month of the sixth year of Longqing, Gengwu, a fire broke out in the rear western annex of the Ciqing Palace; the Grand Secretariat, the Six Ministries, and the Daily Lecturers all submitted condolences, all of which were acknowledged.\u003C\u002Fp>",2785,"2026-06-20T16:31:33.303Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","00ed5edc21ef520356ee246d9e81fff94dbbf8d86049ca1cc8e1f25897bc7320","wanli-the-enlightened-emperor-chapter-62","wanli-the-enlightened-emperor-chapter-60",375,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwanli-the-enlightened-emperor-cover.jpg"]