Chapter 882: Not a Time Bomb, Yet Worse Than One

The court meeting on the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month was not the ticking time bomb people had imagined—it was quite the opposite. Several rumors, previously only passed orally and unverified, were officially announced in court, lifting everyone’s spirits. Whether it was the submission of several small tribes under the command of the Tatar Grand Tutor Arutai or the improving situation in Luchuan to the south, or the fact that several prefectures and counties in Guangdong, such as Guangzhou and Qiongzhou, could now yield three harvests a year with rice production doubling compared to before… In short, it seemed that aside from the capital, the whole country was in a period of great peace and prosperity.

Yet, a time bomb that was only missing a spark was still a time bomb. When that spark finally ignited, the court erupted into chaos. First, Yu Qian from Southern Zhili submitted a memorial detailing the acreage of the largest prefectures and counties there. Second, Du Zhen proposed new laws for the succession of vassal states. Third, Zhang Yue submitted proposals regarding the military examination system. The court was thrown into uproar. The civil officials who thought they could stay out of it had all their plans to watch the conflict unfold from afar turn to cold sweat once they saw the details in the new fish-scale register.

With the shock having peaked, the court meeting ended hastily. The meetings on the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month were never meant for discussing matters—they were merely used to read out the most important petitions from various departments and regions across the country, along with imperial edicts, essentially functioning as a bulletin board. Thus, after the gong sounded signaling the end of the meeting, everyone filed across the Jinshui Bridge and out of the Wumen Gate, then gathered in small groups by faction to whisper among themselves, with some occasionally glancing back with complex expressions.

Today, another court meeting would be held.

Compared to the previous meeting held to prepare for the emperor’s arrival, today’s meeting was naturally packed with attendees, but there were no military officials present this time—only civil officials in bright red official robes, their epaulets adorned with cranes, pheasants, or peacocks. The Grand Secretariat, led by Yang Shiqi, sat at the east end, while the six ministries were seated at the west end, with the emperor sitting prominently in the center. However, unlike his expressionless demeanor at previous meetings, Zhu Zhanji now showed unmistakable signs of fatigue. Clearly, having to handle affairs on New Year’s Eve, coupled with Empress Dowager Zhang’s illness in the Renshou Palace, left him in a poor mood.

So, as the court session progressed and the ministers above began arguing incessantly, his frown deepened even more. Regarding the matter of vassal states mentioned by Du Zhen, some believed it violated ancestral traditions, some thought it was too strict, and others felt it was rushed… It could be said that even Yang Shiji and Jian Yi did not dare to readily agree. Zhang Yue suggested that military examinations should be conducted in the same way as civil examinations, with local and provincial exams following the same procedures as for civil exams, and that imperial censors should no longer oversee them; instead, the Ministry of War and military commanderies should assess martial skills and bravery. Naturally, some criticized this idea, arguing that the military examination system had been established by the founding emperor and should not be changed lightly, nor should military personnel be involved.

Yet what most people were truly concerned about was the fish-scale register presented by Yu Qian. The fresh ink marks on it stood out sharply in the dimly lit Jingyi Hall, even under the candlelight. Several high-ranking officials frequently glanced at Wang Jin, who was holding the register near the emperor, wanting to say something but appearing worried.

Among the dozen or so people present, there were those like Zhang Yue from wealthy families, those like Xia Yuanji from humble backgrounds, those like Yang Shiji who had rebuilt their families, and those like Du Zhen who were only moderately well-off. But most of them owned land, though varying amounts. In Yu Qian’s report, a wealthy family in Kunshan, Songjiang Prefecture, owned 500 hectares of land, most of which had been given by local peasants simply because one of their sons had passed the imperial examination. A retired county magistrate in Taicang seized thousands of acres of land from wealthy people through various means. The prefect of Songjiang, during his three years in office, accepted 3,000 acres of land as gifts… It was unclear how Yu Qian had gathered such detailed information, but since it was written in his report, who would dare doubt this imperial censor renowned for his integrity?

“The reports submitted by Censor Yu are shocking. If this is the case in just Yangzhou Prefecture, what about the rest of the country?” Yu Qian could be considered Yang Shiji’s student, and it was Yang who recommended him to Gu Zuo. Yet at that moment, while admiring his integrity, he also worried that such determination might not lead to a good outcome. But he quickly regained his composure and said, “It is imperative to clarify land ownership across the country, but even just in Nanjing-Liaodong, many people will be needed.”

“This matter should be handled carefully, not hastily. Censors as resolute as Yu Tingyi are after all in the minority. We must guard against those who seek quick success and harm the region—that would be the worst outcome.” Hu Bian, the Minister of Rites who had remained silent until then, finally spoke up and said calmly, “This matter needs to be investigated, but it’s important to determine who will take charge. The emperor already set rules for this, and it cannot be resolved overnight. In my opinion, we should put it on hold for now and simply issue an order to commend Yu Tingyi.”

These words of praise drew nods of agreement from others. Seeing everyone nodding, Zhang Yue couldn’t help but sneer inwardly, thinking that those present were no longer ambitious young men but seasoned veterans in the bureaucracy. Even if they were honest themselves, they had to consider their colleagues, relatives, and friends. Thus, he glanced at the emperor, and seeing Zhu Zhanji merely frown without objecting, he realized the emperor wasn’t focused on this matter at the moment.

Just as he thought Du Zhen would surely bring up the issue of the princely states next, Zhu Zhanji suddenly cleared his throat gently and then said seriously, “Put these matters on hold for now. Minister Jian of the Ministry of Personnel and Minister Xia of the Ministry of Revenue handed over their duties before this northern inspection. I intend to have Guo Jin, the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel, take over as Minister, with Hu Bian, the Minister of Rites, also overseeing the Ministry of Revenue. Once Huang Fu arrives in the capital, he will handle the Ministry of Revenue. Minister Zhang Ben of the Ministry of War has already submitted his resignation, which I have approved. Zhang Yue will serve as acting Minister of War for now, while Wu Zhong remains in charge of the Ministry of Works. As for Minister Jin Chun of the Ministry of Justice… I granted him leave for recuperation, yet he still went to banquets and drank with others—what an interesting attitude!”

Now that the various ministries held equal importance, with the Grand Secretariat even seeming to have more authority than the six ministries, Zhu Zhanji would discuss major matters with the ministries. In such important personnel decisions, he rarely made unilateral decisions. Hence, everyone was shocked by his words. But upon closer consideration of these appointments, even Zhang Yue was surprised to find that all the promotions and demotions followed a pattern and were not unexpected. Fortunately, as a vice minister, he didn’t advance any further, so he didn’t stand out.

Zhang Ben’s resignation was understandable, as he had previously been in charge of the Military Selection Bureau. It was somewhat sad to see the old minister step down, but it wasn’t as bad as Jin Chun’s misfortune. Though he knew the emperor was taking out his anger on him, he glanced around the hall and saw no one speak up in his defense. Clearly, with such a situation arising at this moment, no one thought Jin Chun hadn’t brought it upon himself.

“As for the matter of the princely states, let’s discuss it again after the heir of the Prince of Lu, the Prince of Xiangfu, and the Prince of Anhua pay their respects on New Year’s Day. After all, it’s a matter concerning the imperial family, and I also need to consult the Empress Dowager’s opinion. As for the military examinations, Zhang Yue, don’t worry about that for now. First, recommend candidates for the vacant position in the Military Selection Bureau’s Geofencing Department. Since Vice Minister Feng Jin says he is seriously ill, let him recover first. The ministers present should choose a candidate and finalize it after the Lantern Festival.”

Zhu Zhanji stood up as he spoke, stepped onto the footstool, and slowly said, “For this Lantern Festival, all officials in the capital will be granted five days of leave, and the curfew will be lifted for five days. During this time, lanterns will be lit throughout the city, while towns and cities elsewhere will follow their usual customs. The matter of the three vassal princes coming to the capital requires extra attention from the Taichang Temple. In an era of peace and prosperity, we must not let the people lose their enthusiasm for celebrating the festival.”

The Lantern Festival, also known as the Shangyuan Festival, with its lifted curfew, had been a practice since previous dynasties. In the capital of the Song Dynasty, there was no curfew at all throughout the year, and the restaurants, shops, and establishments on the streets were bustling from morning till night. The painting “Riverside Scene at Qingming Festival” vividly depicted the prosperity of that era. In comparison, the Ming Dynasty was far behind. Yet for the scholars who adhered to Neo-Confucianism, mixing freely during the Shangyuan Festival, regardless of status, was considered improper. But with the emperor’s declaration of a peaceful and prosperous era, any possible opposition was silenced.

“Also, how are this year’s revenues from the Ministry of Revenue?”

He asked this while looking at everyone, but it was clear that he was referring only to two people—Hu Jian, who also handled affairs of the Ministry of Revenue, and Xia Yuanji, who had just stepped down from that position. Both had just returned from the frigid northern regions. They exchanged a glance; Hu Jian lowered his head in thought, while Xia Yuanji tapped his fingers thoughtfully before calculating and then raising his head to say, “Your Majesty, the annual revenue should be about 20% higher than in previous years.”

“Then give the soldiers who accompanied us on the northern inspection an extra month’s rations. Those who were on duty in the palace before also received an extra month’s rations—we must not treat them unfairly,” Zhu Zhanji ordered without hesitation. Then he looked at the crowd and said, “Today is New Year’s Eve. I won’t keep you all any longer. Go home early. Don’t forget to leave someone behind at the yamen to keep watch… Ah, I almost forgot—Chen Shan, the Grand Secretary of the Yuanjin Hall, has been granted retirement. Grant him another 100 taels of silver, 20 bolts of silk, and 100 dan of rice.”

After saying this, Zhu Zhanji glanced at Wang Jin beside him. Wang Jin quickly scanned the standing officials with a consultative look. Seeing that none wanted to speak, he gently waved his dustpan. After the officials bowed and stood up, the emperor and his entourage had already left through the corner gate. At that moment, the dozen or so high-ranking officials exchanged glances and naturally divided into several groups.

Guo Qin, the new Minister of Personnel, listened to Jian Yi with utmost respect, nodding from time to time. Hu Bian, the Minister of Rites, was talking with Wu Zhong, the Minister of Works, as he left Jingyi Hall. Xia Yuanji was discussing something with Yang Pu, paying no attention to others. Yang Pu, as usual, left quietly without making a sound. Yang Shiqi, Du Zhen, and Zhang Yue walked together; once they reached the steps outside and took in the cold air, Yang Shiqi turned to look at the father-in-law and son behind them.

“You two really… such an important matter and you didn’t even inform me in advance! Yishan, it’s understandable that Yuanjie is young and impulsive, and besides, he’s in charge of the Ministry of War. But why did you have to stir up trouble? You should know that there are still three princely families in the capital—those of Jin, Zhou, and Lu—three with the most branches. Why didn’t you delay this matter? To be fair, you’ve taken too drastic a step.”

“If we take too slow a step, the problem will grow bigger, and it will be harder to get the emperor to make a decision later on.”

These words were spoken by Zhang Yue on behalf of Du Zhen. Seeing his father-in-law smile knowingly, he added softly, “Father-in-law also didn’t inform me about this memorial before sending it directly to the Bureau of State Affairs. If not for you submitting it first, I would have had one too, but I hesitated and didn’t send it…”

“Don’t follow Yishan’s example and cause trouble. Your military examination issues are already troublesome enough!” Yang Shiqi was startled and frowned, warning Zhang Yue, “The emperor decided not to discuss this today so as to save it for tomorrow’s New Year’s court session. Let’s talk about it after these few days.”

The morning court on the 30th day of the twelfth lunar month didn’t erupt into chaos, but in the evening, as firecrackers started to go off sporadically, many who were already anxious became even more panicked. Among them, the three residences of the Prince of Shi family were the most affected. Zhu Taikan, the heir to the Prince of Lu, was okay—after all, he was the heir, and since the Lu family was close to the Confucius family in Qufu, he had a good reputation among the people. Zhu Youze, the Prince of Xiangfu, could also maintain a neutral stance; he had a good reputation as a prince, and with Princess Zhu Ning from the Zhou family around, it was likely any impact would be minimal. The most anxious of all was Zhu Jihuan, the Prince of Ninghua.

This time, he risked leaving his fiefdom and rushed to the capital to report the rebellion. Upon arrival, the court did not blame him, but no one would see him! Indeed, he had been oppressed by his damned brother in his fiefdom until he could bear it no longer, and was even imprisoned under false charges. If he hadn’t escaped, he might have lost his life. Yet, deep down, he still harbored a glimmer of hope—after all, both Meigui and his father were guilty. What if… the succession to the Jin fief fell to him?

“Your Highness.”

Zhu Jihuan had been summoned to the capital to pay homage in the early years of the Yongle reign. This eunuch was granted by the emperor at that time. Now, seeing him bowing servilely with a pained expression, Zhu Jihuan grew even angrier: “Did you even try to make any moves?”

Glaring fiercely at the eunuch, whose back was bent like a bow, he snapped, “Aren’t you the same as Wang Jin, Fan Hong, and the others—all brought back from Annam by the Duke of Ying? How come you can’t find a way to see them? You can’t even deliver gifts! You fool!”

“I’m despicable! I’m despicable!”

Seeing him suddenly kneel down and start kowtowing frantically, Zhu Jihuan’s anger surged. Too tired to look at this useless face any longer, he turned and stepped through the curtain into the inner room. Being outside on this New Year’s Eve, feeling utterly lonely, he pondered for a while before deciding to find a way to gauge the attitudes of the Lu and Zhou fiefdoms nearby.

When the Emperor Taizu established the fiefdoms, many princes enjoyed great glory, with dukes and ministers bowing before them in reverence. But now, they were stripped of their guards and forbidden from leaving their fiefdoms—almost like being in prison. If the restrictions on their lands were truly as severe as the rumors suggested, and if they even faced demotion, what meaning was there in being a prince?