Chapter 890: Hongwen Pavilion

Established at Sishan Gate during the reign of Emperor Renzong, the Hongwen Pavilion was later abolished at the beginning of Emperor Xuande’s reign, though its location remained. Since its original purpose was not only to promote learning but also to help govern the country, those who had once been selected as scholars there now had various roles—some in the Hanlin Academy, some in the Taichang Temple, and even others inspecting educational policies at the Censorate. In short, although the Hongwen Pavilion no longer existed, those who had spent months there liked to mention their background when meeting others.

“Back in the day, I was from the Hongwen Pavilion!”
Such bold claims were once only made by a dozen or so people, but now that the emperor planned to hold lectures at the Hongwen Pavilion, turning simple teachings into discussions on state affairs, the news first spread among the recent imperial scholars, then in the Hanlin Academy, and finally among the six ministries of the Censorate. Those recent scholars who thought they would have to endure long years in the Hanlin Academy, as well as those still studying hard, were overjoyed at the sudden opportunity, even if it was merely to observe. Yet, the court had its rules and regulations—since the lectures in the Wenhua Hall required rigorous selection, what more so for the even smaller Hongwen Pavilion?

So when news spread that cabinet ministers and high-ranking officials would recommend candidates, those places that used to be crowded became even more crowded, including the usually quiet Du Xueshi Hutong. Although Zhang Yue was not yet a minister, he was in charge of the Ministry of War. Though there weren’t as many applicants as before the imperial examinations, many fellow provincials and peers still came to visit him. Even Chen Yong and Shi An from the Ministry of War took advantage of the situation.

Yang Shiqi and others, who valued talent highly, submitted their lists the next day; Zhang Yue also submitted his own, along with those from his ministry. In addition, he had already sent another list through Wang Jin a few days earlier. The names on this list would surely be thoroughly reviewed by the Eastern Depot by the emperor—this was what was meant by imperial approval. In total, including high-ranking officials and specially invited lecturers, there were no less than sixty to seventy people participating in these lectures.

Fortunately, although the Hongwen Pavilion had been in use for only a short time and was smaller than the Wenhua Hall, it was still large enough to accommodate so many people. After the morning court session, the officials summoned by the emperor gathered there, with no one caring whether it was the right time. And since the emperor allowed all officials in the capital to observe, even many who weren’t eligible rushed over.

What was even more strange was that although nobles usually attended these lectures, it was merely a formality—except for those unlucky ones forced to listen to the civil officials’ lectures, no one else showed up. But this time, Duke Zhang Fucheng, Duke Zhu Yong, and even Duke Dingguo Xu Jingchang came to join in. The arrival of Prince Lu’s heir Zhu Taikan and Prince Xiangfu Zhu Youze made the chatter among the onlookers quiet down for a while, though it only turned their discussions into hushed whispers.

The reason was simple: besides the princes, the agenda also included regulating land distribution across the country and the imperial military examination system, affecting both the imperial family and military officials. Who would dare not show up to see what suggestions would be made? After all, no one knew whose advice the emperor would listen to.

At the second hour of the si period, Zhang Yue and Guo Qin, who had just taken over as Minister of Personnel, entered Si Shan Gate together. The two had a large age difference in terms of seniority, and so did their favor with the emperor. Guo Qin had only recently assumed his position as minister and had already faced a setback in personnel appointments—while acting as minister, he had relinquished the power to select officials above the third rank. Now that he was officially in charge, he still couldn’t regain that power. It was fine for him, but other officials in the Ministry of Personnel were complaining constantly. So as he walked with Zhang Yue, he couldn’t help but sigh and complain all the way.

Zhang Yue, being a good listener, would nod along and occasionally offer reassurance. He felt sorry for Guo Qin—after all, he had met the required seniority, but lack of popularity had held him back for years. Even now that he was a minister, he remained cautious. Moreover, the position of Deputy Minister of War was undoubtedly the most troublesome in the Ministry of Personnel. Although Guo Qin couldn’t make decisions, the senior officials in the ministry had already chosen their own candidates, yet none of them could pass the emperor’s approval. Strangely enough, in the past, when a deputy minister position became vacant, people would fight fiercely to get it, but this time the candidates themselves weren’t very enthusiastic.

“Yuanjie, to be honest, the senior officials like Yang still think I’m trying to sabotage things. God knows my list mostly consists of low-ranking officials at the fourth or fifth rank. If you have someone in mind, let me know so I won’t be in a difficult position.”

Guo Qin, taking advantage of the others being far away, said in a helpless whisper, “These days, the selections in the Ministry of Personnel are increasingly divided between the capital and local areas. If a governor returns and can be appointed as vice minister, they should be overjoyed. That’s why so many people compete for those positions in the past. But as for the vice minister position in the Ministry of War… to put it bluntly, everyone thinks that if it weren’t for your age, the minister position would belong to you. Even if you don’t make any moves now, the minister position will still remain vacant waiting for you—there’s no hope. So, everyone is eyeing the vacancy in the Ministry of Justice, while no one wants to take on that top position in the Ministry of War. Moreover, the situation in the Ministry of War has been somewhat delicate these past few years; some even say it’s not a favorable place. You’ve spent almost all your time as a court official in the Ministry of War, so you must know what’s going on.”

Zhang Yue certainly knew what was going on. Ever since Fang Bin committed suicide, followed by Zhao Jin, then Li Qing, and finally Zhang Ben, no one had been able to hold the minister position for long. Even the unlucky Vice Minister Feng hadn’t lasted three years. For court officials who aimed for stability and progress, the fact that the Ministry of War wasn’t a favorable place ranked high among the reasons why it was difficult to serve there—right alongside Zhang Yue’s notorious reputation.

So now it was Zhang Yue’s turn to feel helpless. With Vice Minister Feng’s position vacant, he had suggested a decent candidate, but the emperor didn’t seem satisfied. As a result, the Ministry of War only filled a few vacancies in the Military Selection Bureau and the Geographic Bureau. Not only was the minister position vacant, but even the position of right vice minister remained unfilled. Thinking of the chaos at the Ministry of Justice due to the vacancy left by Minister Jin Chun, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or worried. After all, including him, the average age of the officials in the Ministry of War was probably the lowest among all ministries.

It was still not time yet. The high-ranking officials formed their own groups, the Hanlin scholars gathered together, and the other idle officials, either by peerage or hometown, huddled in small groups, discussing what to say later. As for the nobles, they all gathered around Duke Zhang Fu of Ying, staying far away from the civil officials, creating a clear distinction between them.

“By the way, there’s also this system of military examinations you mentioned.” Guo Qin saw Zhang Yue every day, but they rarely had long periods of free time to talk, so his words flowed more and more freely. “Yuan Jie, to be honest, your family has produced two top-ranking nobles, but you must remember that you’re a civil official. Civil and military paths are different—how can military examinations be compared to civil ones? From the beginning of the dynasty, military households were listed separately in the official registers. To select military officials, one only needed to put more effort into military examinations. Why go through all those complicated procedures? How much money would that cost? Besides, not to mention us, even the Duke of Ying would likely think this is unnecessary. Do you really intend to ruin the livelihoods of military households?”
Although the idea that civil officials were superior to military officials was once regarded as an unbreakable rule by civil officials during the mid and late Ming Dynasty, with provincial commanders even having to kneel before the Ministry of War, in this best of times, although military officials didn’t hold much real power, they still enjoyed special treatment. When they encountered high-ranking officials from various departments, they could even expect them to make way for them. Thus, most of the civil officials who had struggled for years to improve their status didn’t want to see the concept of “military” inserted into such a sacred institution as the imperial examinations.
“I understand what Secretary Guo means. But the system of military examinations was established at the beginning of our dynasty, with exams held every six years. By now, it’s long been a mere formality. Moreover, if military positions are passed down hereditarily, after two or three generations, what happens if the traditional emphasis on military prowess fades? You know, although civil officials have the system of favoritism, even a first-rank official can only recommend one son to serve as a fifth-rank official. This still motivates future generations. If there’s only promotion and no demotion, it’s no different from encouraging people to live in laziness.”
“But… uh, I’ll stop talking. Listen to what others say during the imperial lectures later. In any case, this matter is too complicated to resolve easily!”
After talking for a while, several other secretaries arrived one after another. Soon, a eunuch rushed over to announce that the emperor had set off. Naturally, everyone stepped back from their somewhat chaotic arrangement and stood in order according to their rank and usual positions, still exchanging glances with each other.

Although the imperial lectures had existed since the early Ming dynasty, there had never been a fixed day for them, entirely depending on the emperor’s mood. According to the ritual procedures hastily submitted by the Ministry of Rites this time, the venue should be the Wenhua Hall, where officials would bow five times and kowtow three times beneath the red steps before presenting the texts and delivering their lectures according to complex rules. However, the proposal was rejected by the emperor shortly after it was submitted, who said this was a lecture, not kowtowing, and since the venue had already been decided to be the Hongwen Pavilion, what was the point of mentioning the Wenhua Hall? Thus, when the emperor arrived, everyone simply kowtowed once and then entered the Hongwen Pavilion in order according to their rank, while many others were left outside.

In the past, imperial lectures were held several times a year, mainly focusing on the Four Books and Five Classics. Often, from a simple passage in these sacred texts, the eloquent scholars could derive a multitude of complex theories. Lectures on history were even more elaborate; the lecturers would prepare in advance and repeatedly discuss the misdeeds of corrupt rulers and treacherous officials from past dynasties, merely to serve as a warning to the emperor. Yet compared to the prosperity of the Han and Tang dynasties, after the Song dynasty established the practice of having lecturers stand by, their status declined significantly. They could only stand and listen, and when presenting texts, they had to kneel, leaving other officials standing nearby unable to move easily, causing their necks to ache.

Zhang Yue was already feeling drowsy and could only remind himself not to fall asleep by gently clenching his fists from time to time. Looking at the emperor’s not-very-pleasant expression on the throne, he knew well that Zhu Zhanji was also extremely impatient. Indeed, after the half-hour routine lecture ended, the lecturer finally left, and Wang Jin, standing beside Zhu Zhanji, immediately announced the rules for discussing the three matters of the day. Although these rules had already been announced beforehand, repeating them now ensured that everyone listened carefully.

The first rule was to decide state affairs by drawing lots. The second was not to shout or make noise without permission. The third was that those who spoke meaningfully would be rewarded, while those who spoke wrongly would not be punished. The fourth was that ministers from various departments and cabinets should only listen and not speak. The fifth was that those who sought to gain favor by causing a stir would be expelled…

There were a total of nine regulations, which, though not entirely comprehensive, did help deter those who only knew how to criticize without offering solutions. Thus, when Wang Jin, the head official, drew lots personally, all the officials who had been recommended to speak eagerly watched, especially those in their thirties and forties. Even Zhang Jiu and Gu Bin, standing in the back, couldn’t help but stare at the hand drawing the lots. One of them came there with the intention of learning, while the other was recommended by Yang Shiji. Though they knew they might not get a chance to offer advice, Gu Bin still prepared hard for several nights, as he had to consider Yang Rong as well as himself.

“Hanlin Academician, Li Qi!”

Though the name wasn’t widely known, anyone who had gone through the imperial examinations or paid attention to court affairs knew who he was. Even Zhang Yue couldn’t help but look up—after all, he was the top scorer in his own examination group. Just nine years earlier, Li Qi had been appointed as a compiler in the Hanlin Academy after becoming the top scorer, and later he had presided over the local examinations in Ying Tianfu. Throughout those years, he had remained in academic positions, and after nine years of solid performance, he was granted the title of Hanlin Academician. Seeing that calm middle-aged man step forward, bow, and speak loudly, Zhang Yue couldn’t help but think of his peers.

“…However, under our dynasty’s system established by Emperor Taizu, members of the imperial clan are given names at birth and arranged marriages as they grow up. They receive a lifetime salary and support for funerals, ensuring a strong bond among relatives. Yet over the past few decades, there have been both wise and foolish individuals among them, many of whom have caused harm to the people and disrupted local order… But matters related to the imperial clan are governed by ancestral traditions. If we lightly depose them for crimes, it fails to uphold the bond among relatives. Moreover, among their brothers and descendants, there may still be worthy individuals…”

After all, as the top scorer in the imperial examination essays, his speech wasn’t long, but it highlighted three key points: First, among the imperial clan members, some are wise while others are foolish. The wise live a humble life relying on their salaries, while the foolish may become tyrannical and wealthy by oppressing others. Therefore, while punishing the guilty, we should also reward the wise. Second, it’s easy to depose someone for crimes, but if there are still wise brothers, nephews, or descendants among them who should inherit the position, doing so would be unfair. Third, imperial clan members below the rank of General in Charge should be allowed to engage in farming and studying, as per ancestral traditions—but at the very least, their rank should be changed to below Lieutenant General in Charge.

If Li Qi was still somewhat restrained, the others were far less polite. Since matters related to vassal states involved the imperial family, mishandling them could have far-reaching consequences, so few dared to persist on this issue. As for determining the land distribution across the realm and redrawing the land registers, it affected everyone’s livelihood, so they instinctively avoided it. As a result, the imperial military examinations became the focus of criticism. When an elderly scholar from the Hanlin Academy, with a full beard, said in his excitement, “A hero breaks the law with force,” someone among the nobles sneered. “Do you think we simpletons haven’t read Han Feizi? Before ‘A hero breaks the law with force,’ there’s also ‘A scholar disrupts the law with words’!”