Chapter 912: Righteousness and Profit

Since the emergence of censors, both the powerful prime ministers who held ultimate authority in governing the realm and the formidable generals who led armies into battle faced immense pressure from their sharp critiques. In comparison, the civil officials and nobles of the Ming Dynasty were relatively fortunate—at least they didn’t have to face situations like in the Song Dynasty, where even minor changes in celestial phenomena or coordinated attacks by censors could force a prime minister to step down. After all, even someone as incorruptible as Yang Shiqi of the Grand Secretariat had to endure one or two rounds of censorial attacks per month, not to mention those with more flaws. For young officials like Zhang Yue, it was almost routine to face criticism frequently.

Yet, the censorial campaign at the beginning of April was overwhelming. It started with accusations against Duke Ying of Ying, Zhang Fu, and his brothers Zhang Xuan and Zhang Jie for harboring slaves and seizing civilian land, prompting the emperor to order an investigation. Following this, Zhang Yue was accused of arbitrarily exempting young officials from taxes and corvée duties in the military affairs sector. But since Zhang Yue’s proposals had already been submitted, the charge of “arbitrariness” couldn’t hold up. Thus, he was further accused of establishing military institutions in violation of the founding traditions of Emperor Taizu, with even the re-establishment of the Temple of King Wucheng being brought up as evidence.

It didn’t stop there. Wu Zhong, the Minister of Works, was accused of corruption and misconduct for secretly giving the large timber used for palace repairs to eunuch Yang Qing to build his residence. After investigation, the charges proved true, and Wu Zhong was immediately imprisoned. As a result, the already incomplete group of six ministerial heads lost yet another member. The Censorate then uncovered several more issues, causing chaos in the court. Everyone feared the Censorate, and its censors walked with heads held high, exuding great confidence.

However, the Censorate consisted of thirteen supervisory censors, plus many others on inspection tours. With so many people, it was impossible for everyone to become the focus of this massive wave of accusations. Seeing their colleagues even overshadowed by the highly discussed Imperial Lectures at the Hongwen Pavilion, many newly appointed censors grew anxious. Those who failed the selection process usually didn’t qualify for the Imperial Lectures, but seizing this opportunity could make up for it.

So, everyone went around visiting according to their respective schools or ancestral origins. They racked their brains at the government offices all day long, even breaking their habit of not going out at noon to search for clues in hopes of eliminating the threat to the imperial court and getting rid of that “test” label on their heads sooner. Thus, Chengji Restaurant, located near the middle bridge of the Yu River, also broke its habit of only delivering meals to the five ministries and six departments, and opened a dining area at the back to keep up with the trend.

At that moment, three officials aged between thirty and forty sat there, staring blankly at three dishes in front of them. Although becoming a Jinshi sounded glorious, officials in the Ming Dynasty received meager salaries, making them the lowest-ranking among the poor officials in the capital. So after dining out for several days in a row, their wallets were already quite empty. The three dishes consisted of bean sprouts, shredded radish, and fried eggs—dishes that Chengji Restaurant would normally offer, but other restaurants would refuse to prepare, as they were considered cheap and suitable only for street stalls.

“What should we do?”
“Yes, what can we do? It’s not really for ourselves. We’ve been in the Censorate for over half a year, with Governor Gu constantly checking in and giving us guidance. If we can’t achieve anything, how can we face him?”
“Indeed, who would have thought that those two from Huguang could uncover a scandal in the granary offices, while we have no clues at all. So many people from Guangdong passed the exams this time, yet we… If word gets out, even Lord Zhang will lose face!”
“You really think Lord Zhang can solve everything. You should know he’s in quite a mess now—people are paying attention to matters related to martial arts. The nobles are already complaining, there’s resistance from military families, and now there are accusations from censors. Add to that the martial arts examinations… When I was young, I read some legends about how military households were considered inferior, and no one wanted to enlist and earn merits…”

All three of them were from Guangdong. Although not from the same place, they were assigned to the Censorate together, which naturally brought them closer. Unfamiliar with the capital and relying solely on their daily salary, they met with Zhang Yue after being assigned their duties and received some advice. Then they rented a house together. However, housing in the capital was expensive. If it weren’t for the fact that many officials came and went there, making it easier to gather information, they wouldn’t have spent such money.

After chatting for a while and sighing in frustration, the tall and thin censor saw a waiter coming over with a tray. Seeing him place a bowl of braised pork on the table from the large boxwood tray, he was surprised and quickly shook his head, saying, “You’ve made a mistake. We didn’t order this.”

“I know. The owner noticed that you three have been coming here for several days, eating only vegetables and shredded radish every day. Only today were two eggs added, so he sent me to bring you a bowl of braised pork. He also told me to say that the two owners of this shop are educated and understand your difficulties, which is why they set this rule. If you feel embarrassed, you can pay later.”

This long explanation immediately dispelled their concerns. They exchanged glances, and in the end, it was the tall and thin censor who stood up and bowed solemnly in thanks. When they sat down again, looking at the bowl of brightly colored chunks of braised pork, he couldn’t help but lick his lips. Seeing that the other two were in a similar situation, he reached for his chopsticks. Once one started eating, the others followed, and in no time they devoured all the food, finally sighing in satisfaction.

When it came time to pay, as expected, the owner hadn’t included the bowl of braised pork in the bill. After counting a few copper coins, the three of them left the shop. They glanced at each other and couldn’t help but smile wryly. Though they were officials, with rent and various expenses each month, plus no support from home, they really couldn’t afford meat. It was awkward, but they had no choice but to postpone paying until next time. These honest men were not like people like Wan Shijie—back home they relied on the rent from a few acres of land, and abroad on their salaries. None of them had the skill to make money by selling calligraphy or starting businesses, so they couldn’t save much.

Several censors from the Censorate also left the restaurant with them. However, the thirteen censors made up 110 people in total. Aside from the less than thirty who were inspecting various regions, the rest were all in the Censorate. But censors often had a proud attitude. They only vaguely remembered the names of their colleagues, knowing that they were not recent graduates like themselves, so they paid little attention to the rest and simply greeted them briefly.

Yet as they walked toward Yuhé Middle Bridge, a man suddenly rushed out onto the road, holding a petition and kneeling down loudly, shouting, “Your Excellency, I want to file a complaint!”

Such acts of lodging complaints in the road are common in plays but rare in real life. Moreover, this place is near Dongjiang Rice Alley, where even those dressed plainly are likely to be officials of the third or fourth rank—how could anyone take them lightly? So, watching helplessly as the man knelt in the middle of the road, holding up his complaint letter, the imperial censors exchanged glances before finally stepping forward.

Anyway, with the avalanche of accusations pouring in at the Censorate these days, they were already falling behind. If there really was any injustice here, it would be better to step in—for their own sake and for the sake of all the people!

Though their motives varied, once they all stepped forward, some asked the complainant about the details, some carefully examined the complaint letter, and others whispered among themselves. Yet after learning the full story, these once confident censors immediately showed signs of hesitation.

The reason? The man was accusing the gatekeeper of the Prince of Yue’s estate of seizing 100 hectares of farmland from the people of Baoding and Zhending prefectures, even forcing people to death! 100 hectares equals 10,000 mu—how could a mere estate overseer act so recklessly? What about the others in charge?

As their colleagues debated, some quietly slipped into a side alley, and soon others followed suit. Before long, only the three of them remained. The tall, thin censor’s face flushed with anger. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, took the complaint letter from the man’s hands, and declared resolutely, “I’ll handle this complaint for you!”

At these words, his two colleagues and fellow townsmen were shocked. One quickly stepped forward, pulled him aside, and warned in a low voice, “Think carefully about this. You know, the imperial academy has discussed this matter several times, yet matters related to princely families are rarely mentioned. One misstep could bring serious trouble—otherwise, why would they leave so quickly?”

“Trouble? You know my family’s situation. Without the grain provided by the local school, I wouldn’t have been able to pass the provincial exams. Without financial support for scholars traveling to the capital, I wouldn’t even have been able to attend the metropolitan exams. Governor Gu also said that an official must be upright. Since this has fallen to me, it must be fate. Whatever happens,” he said, turning to help the stunned man up, then addressing his two friends, “Take him back to our lodging place to rest. I’ll return to the Censorate and submit the complaint today!”

The reason it’s today is obviously because such matters can’t be delayed. Powerful people have many spies; if not dealt with promptly, that person might be silenced and the matter covered up. The other two, seeing their companion’s determination, exchanged a glance and stopped trying to persuade him, instead leading him eastward. Meanwhile, the tall and thin censor who had received the complaint quickened his pace across the Yuhe Middle Bridge and soon disappeared into the narrow Dongjiang Rice Alley.

After everyone there had vanished, two more people emerged from the Chengji Restaurant. Both wore green robes and were roughly the same height—one with a neat mustache and bare head, the other wearing a xiaoyao headband—it was Zhang Yue and Yang Ji. Yang Ji glanced around east and west before looking at Zhang Yue with confusion.

“Why go to such trouble? From their accents, those three are from Guangdong. Since you’ve been a high-ranking official there before and have heard them talk about you, just hinting at it—wouldn’t they take on this task?”

“You don’t understand. Working in the Censorate, besides seeking fame, one must also uphold integrity. I’m not here for them; I just want to see who’s willing to take on this matter so it’s easier to deal with Gu Duxian.” Zhang Yue gazed thoughtfully at the now-empty Dongjiang Rice Alley, then smiled and said, “I didn’t expect to encounter a scholar from Guangdong. He’s quite thorough—taking on the task and knowing to bring the victim back to his own place to watch over them. But with such a low rank, can he withstand others’ arrogance? Brother Yang, I know you have some people under you—lend me a few to help watch over things there.”

Yang Ji was almost choked by Zhang Yue’s casual remark and quickly widened his eyes, asking, “How do you know I have people under me?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have happened to arrive at your house just in time to stop that trouble.” Seeing Yang Ji still staring at him blankly, Zhang Yue laughed and said, “Don’t think I don’t know. When Grand Secretary Yang isn’t in his hometown, under the pretext of studying and meeting friends, you’ve done similar things before. With someone trying to trick you in the capital this time, with your nature, you surely need to have people at your disposal. Am I wrong?”

“Truly, nothing escapes you!”

Although Yang Ji felt that Zhang Yue, who was younger than him, seemed to know everything and be capable of anything, he was still ready to follow his instructions—not to mention repaying a favor, just from past experiences where listening to Zhang Yue never led to losses, he wouldn’t guarantee anything. After all, he had finally been lifted from house arrest recently, thanks to Zhang Yue’s intercession. So, even if Zhang Yue hadn’t vaguely mentioned the source of his past losses, Yang Ji would still have gone through the trouble willingly.

After completing this task, Zhang Yue reminded Yang Ji to be extremely careful and not to show up in person, then he set off back to the Ministry of War. Although Yang Ji might seem unpromising to others, he had a certain sense of loyalty typical of commoners, so relying on him for tasks was safe. Moreover, the incident involving one corpse and two deaths was truly tragic. Even if the King of Yue might not be aware of it, it still had to be attributed to him.

He returned to the office and hadn’t even handled two matters when word came that someone from the palace had arrived. This time it was a young eunuch who, without hesitation, took out a thick envelope from his bosom and handed it over, then produced a receipt asking Zhang Yue to stamp it. Seeing this routine, Zhang Yue became slightly alert. After stamping it with his silver seal, he took the letter back to his room and read it—immediately smiling.

After Huang Fu returned, his first task was to settle the surplus from the Ministry of Revenue the previous year. From silk and fabric to money, coins, and grain, the total value amounted to three million guan! Since the Yongle era, with continuous wars and subsequent northern expeditions and inspections, the Ministry of Revenue had almost always ended each year with empty coffers despite collecting taxes in summer and autumn. Last year, too, there had been many troubles in the court, yet such a surplus was still achieved—half of it thanks to the Divine Might Fleet, and the other half due to the initial success of two- and three-crop farming in various provinces, which at least ensured full tax collection, plus the revenues from the three major maritime trade offices.

These figures were likely those reported by the Ministry of Revenue to the palace and then calculated by the palace officials, yet they hadn’t yet been announced to the officials. So, even though Zhang Yue was excited, he set the paper aside and soon saw a few lines of bold handwriting. It seemed to have been written by Zhu Zhanji in a good mood, stating that since the military examinations were held annually through county recommendations, the court could still afford the expenses!

Indeed, money brought confidence—no amount of money could stump even a hero, not even an emperor.