Chapter 18: The Storm Gathers

April Ninth.

Inside the Cabinet Chamber.

Having just finished lecturing the Crown Prince in the Wenhua Hall, Zhang Zhi tidied up the memorials on his desk, sorting them carefully. He then separated those requiring the Emperor’s direct decree and placed them neatly before him.

He washed his ink brush clean and returned it to the brush rack.

With a composed air, he summoned a cup of tea, lifted it gracefully, and settled back into his chair with serene ease.

Lü Ben cast a disdainful sideways glance at Zhang Chaling.

Meanwhile, Yan Song, seated solemnly in the Grand Chancellor’s chair, regarded both men with a somewhat grave expression.

“Matters within the palace are the private affairs of the Heavenly House. The Son of Heaven is wise, the Crown Prince intelligent—it is indeed fortunate for the realm. Yet now that turmoil stirs once more within court, we, as ministers of the cabinet, must put the affairs of the state first.”

As fellow cabinet members, Yan Song could plainly see how much Zhang Zhi valued the Eastern Palace and how devoted he was to the Crown Prince’s studies.

At present, Lü Ben, also a principal lecturer, only visited the Crown Prince once every three days to teach personally.

By rights, Zhang Zhi should do the same, with Sun Sheng, Min Rulin, and Gao Gong taking turns on the other days.

Yet Zhang Zhi went every single day, as if instructing the Crown Prince in the Wenhua Hall’s eastern annex was his chief duty, while attending to cabinet business was merely secondary.

Yan Song’s words were clearly a gentle rebuke.

Zhang Zhi took a sip of tea, then set down the cup, gathered the memorials before him, and rose.

Lü Ben, too, picked up several memorials with a serious countenance and remarked, “The matters of the Southeast and the Nine Borders arriving simultaneously—truly a time of great concern.”

Zhang Zhi turned to Lü Ben with a puzzled expression.

What troubles had arisen in the Southeast and the Nine Borders? He hadn’t heard a thing.

Lü Ben shot an annoyed glance at Zhang Zhi, who fancied himself the imperial tutor, and said with some vexation, “Memorials from Fujian and Zhejiang accuse Zhu Wan, and many court officials have joined the charge. The Japanese, a certain Wokou named Zhou Liang, and the bandit Li Guangtou have stirred up endless chaos!”

His tone carried a note of complaint.

While Zhang Zhi busied himself with teaching the Crown Prince, the court’s burdens fell squarely on Lü Ben and Elder Minister Yan.

Zhang Zhi’s face showed regret, then he frowned and said, “Zhu Wan acted under the Emperor’s orders, but why impeach him over the Wokou and bandit issues? Isn’t this nonsense?”

Lü Ben rolled his eyes, unwilling to waste more breath on him.

Zhang Zhi could only look upward at Yan Song, who had already risen.

He truly did not grasp the inner intrigues.

Yan Song gave Zhang Zhi a weary glance and was about to explain when the sound of a bell echoed outside, stirring him to say, “The Crown Prince has moved to the Western Garden. We should hasten to report.”

Zhang Zhi suppressed his curiosity and doubts, joining Lü Ben in following the Grand Chancellor toward the Western Garden.

...

On the way to the Western Garden, Yan Song and the others were not alone.

Zhu Zaiyi, having just finished organizing his lessons in the Wenhua Hall, was accompanied by Feng Bao, Zhu Qi, and Tao Zhongfu—who had only arrived at the Eastern Palace the day before—to the Wanshou Palace in the Western Garden for his first audience observing imperial governance.

Tao Zhongfu was the youngest grandson of Tao Zhongwen, the Taoist elder now serving as a military commander beside Zhu Zaiyi.

He was barely twenty.

Before entering the palace, Zhu Zaiyi had Feng Bao inquire about Tao Zhongfu. The young man, steeped in the family’s Taoist traditions, did not pursue the civil service examinations but instead devoted himself entirely to Taoist cultivation.

Zhu Zaiyi had worried that having such a staunch Taoist around might be burdensome.

Yet on Tao Zhongfu’s very first day at the Eastern Palace, Zhu Zaiyi realized how mistaken his prejudice had been.

...

When Tao Zhongfu first arrived, Zhu Zaiyi asked about his cultivation and whether he adhered to strict precepts.

Tao Zhongfu replied with a question of his own: if he did not accompany the Crown Prince in reciting sutras and Taoist texts and demanded a jug of wine every evening, would that be acceptable?

Zhu Zaiyi immediately knew this man was perfect to have nearby!

The group entered the Western Garden, walking beside the Taiye Pond.

Zhu Zaiyi curiously asked, “Daoist, you say the Daoist ancestors truly practiced ‘non-action’? If I wished to reach that realm, how should I cultivate?”

Tao Zhongfu, trailing behind, rolled his eyes silently before answering firmly, “Your Highness, in my humble opinion, the Daoist ancestors did not practice pure non-action. If they truly did nothing, why would we, their disciples, offer daily devotions and recite sutras morning and evening?”

Zhu Zaiyi, Feng Bao, and Zhu Qi all twitched their mouths upon hearing this.

This fellow’s words were truly blasphemous!

Zhu Zaiyi abandoned any thought of debating Taoist philosophy with him; it was easier to expect him to complete his assigned Taoist tasks daily.

Yet now that Emperor Jiajing had placed him by Zhu Zaiyi’s side, presumably to safeguard the Crown Prince’s spiritual path, his temperament was a relief.

As they walked and chatted, they finally reached Wanshou Palace.

Inside, only Zhu Zaiyi entered; the others waited outside the doors.

Shortly after, Yan Song, Zhang Zhi, and Lü Ben arrived together.

“Your Highness,” the three bowed.

Zhu Zaiyi returned the salute, “Elder Minister Yan, Elder Minister Zhang, Elder Minister Lü.”

Yan Song merely glanced at Zhu Zaiyi without much interest.

Lü Ben’s mind was clouded with court disputes and did not pay much attention.

Only Zhang Zhi, upon seeing his favored student, beamed with joy, unable to look enough.

Though their thoughts diverged, at the sound of a ceremonial chime, their expressions united in solemn dignity.

Footsteps approached.

Emperor Jiajing appeared, attended by Huang Jin.

Today, the Emperor spoke no entrance poem; his steps were unusually light as he swiftly seated himself upon the throne.

Before Yan Song and the others could bow, Jiajing waved them off. “You may rise. Today, as the Crown Prince observes governance for the first time, it is my intention that the Eastern Palace learn statecraft early. Ministers, do not take matters overly seriously. Present your reports; the Crown Prince will listen and observe but will not speak on state affairs.”

After the Emperor’s decree, the three ministers and Zhu Zaiyi bowed deeply.

Jiajing’s gaze swept over them before settling with a smile on his son’s face.

Yet inwardly he sighed twice.

He recalled how, upon arriving in the capital from Anlu in Huguang, he had assumed the throne without any tutor guiding him in state affairs, relying solely on his own struggle against court officials.

But the hardships he endured should not befall his son.

The Emperor’s thoughts lingered on his past and his son’s present.

Lü Ben stepped forward first.

“Your Majesty, recently, the provincial governor and military commander of Zhejiang and Fujian, Censor Zhu Wan, reported victory at Zhao’an. He stated that the bandits and pirates in Fujian have deep roots, and after capturing ninety-six ringleaders, including the notorious Li Guangtou, there is fear that those not captured will rebel. To prevent such unrest, orders were given to Commander Lu Tang and Deputy Maritime Commissioner Ke Qiao to execute the ninety-six men.”

Standing before the imperial throne, Zhu Zaiyi turned toward Lü Ben, pondering.

Zhu Wan, the governor and censor of Fujian and Zhejiang, was a hot topic in court recently.

Lü Ben continued, “Previously, Yang Jiuze, the inspector of Fujian, reported Zhu Wan’s victory at Zhao’an improperly, resulting in a demotion by imperial decree. Now, the Ministry of War has dispatched officials to verify Zhu Wan’s orders for Lu Tang and Ke Qiao to execute the ninety-six men.”

Lü Ben paused briefly, gauging the Emperor’s reaction.

Then resumed, “The Ministry of War, the Censorate, and the Military Affairs Office are aware of the matter, and officials have submitted memorials impeaching Zhu Wan. Though acting under imperial orders, he acted recklessly. The bandits were captured in February, but the report was only submitted in March, which is inconsistent with emergency battlefield decisions. Proper protocol would have been to report to the court and await orders. Lu Tang and Ke Qiao, though following orders, erred and should be held accountable. Zhu Wan, disregarding imperial will, ordered executions at will and must also face punishment.”

Jiajing frowned but replied calmly, “I entrusted Zhu Wan with discretionary authority over Zhejiang and Fujian. Since these were bandits captured on the battlefield, executions seem appropriate. However, if the court raises objections, officials should be dispatched to investigate.”

He then looked to Grand Chancellor Yan Song.

Yan Song’s expression was composed as he spoke slowly, “Your Majesty, Zhu Wan previously submitted six memorials advising on national affairs, constitutional matters, legal reforms, securing key regions, eradicating evil, and decisive governance. In the early days of the dynasty, strict maritime prohibitions brought peace to the Southeast. Recently, local tyrants collude with outsiders, and officials dare not investigate, causing obstruction. Maritime prohibitions in the Southeast must be strictly enforced; the provincial governor and censor should uphold the law and reaffirm these edicts.”

“Zhejiang’s deputy generals and garrison commanders, along with inspectors, should be stationed accordingly. Cities like Yuegang in Fujian must be fortified, and regions like Anhai and Nan’an reorganized. Border areas such as Tongshan and Meiling should have appointed officials to oversee them.”

“Moreover, coastal bandits in the Southeast often conspire with local powerful clans. Government actions are frequently leaked. The root causes must be eliminated first, punishing corrupt officials and colluding clans to prevent intelligence leaks. If Zhejiang and Fujian are to enforce maritime prohibitions, all measures should originate from a unified decree.”

This reiterated Zhu Wan’s past counsel on maritime prohibitions in those provinces.

Hearing this, Zhu Zaiyi grew interested in Zhu Wan.

Everyone knew the so-called Wokou plague along the Southeast coast was largely perpetrated by local Ming subjects pursuing profits from maritime trade.

Zhu Wan dared to speak plainly and demand the court punish local officials and clans.

If he were not impeached, that would be the true anomaly.

Zhu Zaiyi thought silently.

Matters involving wealth and profit stir fierce conflicts, akin to murdering one’s own parents.

It seemed the court’s contradictions over maritime prohibitions and smuggling had become irreconcilable, escalating into open struggle.

The previous incident where the Japanese envoy Zhou Liang stayed at a Ningbo guesthouse and was advised to assassinate Zhu Wan was clearly orchestrated by those whose maritime interests Zhu Wan threatened in Fujian and Zhejiang.

With this realization, Zhu Zaiyi began to piece together the situation in the two southeastern provinces.

He lifted his gaze toward Emperor Jiajing on the throne.

At that moment, Yan Song spoke again, “Now that Zhu Wan has been dismissed and is awaiting investigation, the posts of governor and censor of Fujian and Zhejiang are vacant. Court opinion is divided—some suggest abolishing these provincial positions altogether, others advocate appointing new officials. We humbly request Your Majesty’s judgment.”

In Zhu Zaiyi’s view, Jiajing’s brow tightened noticeably.

He clearly disapproved of the court’s proposal.

After all, if Zhu Wan had lost imperial trust, how could he have been granted discretionary authority over those provinces in the first place?

Just then, Lü Ben interjected, “Your Majesty, regarding the Three Borders in the north: Governor-General of Xuanda, Minister of War, and Right Deputy Censor, Weng Wanda, has recently reported on border defense matters.”

Zhu Zaiyi’s brow rose sharply, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Lü Ben.

They had just been discussing the Southeast; now the topic shifted abruptly to the Nine Borders’ military affairs.

He glanced toward the Taoist elder above.

Sure enough, upon hearing Lü Ben’s report, Jiajing’s eyes flashed with a cold light.

Zhu Zaiyi felt a chill descend.

It seemed the court was on the verge of another storm of upheaval.