Chapter 212: The Beginning
Although the first month of the year marks the arrival of spring, true spring in the north comes very late. It’s often said that the weather is still cold despite the warmth, as people wear thick cotton coats, making it seem no different from winter. The trees remain bare, and the gardens are also bare; the only signs of spring are a few patches of green weeds by the roads and sprouts breaking through the soil.
Before the spring rain arrived, thunderstorms broke out in Beijing. Not long after the edict calling for open discussions was issued, with no clear outcome yet, Meng Xian and Sun Lianggan sent two memorials—one military and one civil—to the capital by fast horses. They were then forwarded to the emperor’s desk by the Cabinet, and soon after, they struck like thunder among many people. Yet this was only the first batch.
Just a day later, Zhu Zhanqi, the Prince of Shouguang, who had been accused of numerous offenses in relation to the previous two memorials, also submitted one. Instead of defending himself, he meticulously listed his father’s actions since being stationed in Le’an, including his resentment, unauthorized expansion of private troops, seizure of salt fields, collection of taxes without permission, secret dealings with local officials, and leaving Le’an without authorization. In short, the sheer number of accusations made Yang Rong sweat profusely, let alone others.
Yet Zhu Di, who often lost his temper and even killed people after suffering from wind paralysis, did not get angry this time. He casually tossed Meng Xian and Sun Lianggan’s memorials aside but studied Zhu Zhanqi’s elaborately written memorial over and over again, as if trying to memorize every word. The more he did this, the more terrified the eunuchs and maids serving him became. After several days of hardship, Zhang Qian had no choice but to seek help from Consort Wang.
Consorts were not allowed to interfere in state affairs. Consort Wang racked her brains but could only persuade Zhu Di to take medicine and fall into a deep sleep. Feeling helpless, she thought hard but couldn’t meet with external officials, so she took a few maids and eunuchs to Jingfu Palace. Although it was still cold, she walked instead of using a sedan chair. Upon arriving at Jingfu Palace, she ordered that no one be announced and kept a few eunuchs outside, bringing only two maids inside.
“There has been an imperial edict since the time of Emperor Taizu stating that princes must not compete with the common people for profit. How dare they even think of taking control of the salt fields! Scholar Hu once told me while he was alive that the situation for salt merchants was worsening day by day, with no one in the border regions paying taxes, and the output of salt fields decreasing. If this continues, the salt regulations will be severely disrupted! The Prince of Shouguang not only seizes the salt fields but also applies the father’s actions to his son—where is there any filial piety or loyalty among subjects?”
Princess Wang recognized that it was the voice of the Crown Prince Zhu Zhanji, realizing there was someone else inside. After pondering for a moment, she sat down on the heated bed outside. When a young eunuch brought tea and tried to report inside, she shook her head slightly. Sipping the Anhua Yunwu tea carefully, she heard another voice coming from inside.
“Since ascending the throne, the Emperor has strictly punished those domineering vassal kings. Yet the King of Han is after all the Emperor’s legitimate son, and the King of Shouguang is his legitimate grandson. Though the Emperor is furious about this incident, it’s still hard to say how he will deal with it. Crown Prince, the memorials from the King of Han and the King of Shouguang clearly state his rebellious behavior. I’m afraid… Ah, there’s another memorial from Qingzhou Prefecture today, jointly submitted by the prefect Ling Hua and the deputy prefect Zhang Yue. I’ve already presented it to the Emperor. Here’s a copy for you to take a look at, Crown Prince.”
Hearing the two people inside talking endlessly, Princess Wang couldn’t help but sigh. Seeing the eunuch who brought the tea standing there, looking uneasy, she nodded to signal him to go in and report. Soon, through the beaded curtain, she saw eunuchs sending someone out, and soon after, Zhu Zhanji himself came out to greet her.
“Why didn’t you send anyone to let me know you were coming, Princess? If I had known, how could I have dared to let you sit waiting outside?”
Princess Wang waved her hand smiling, saying it was no problem. She then asked who was speaking inside. Hearing it was Yang Rong, she laughed, “So it’s the person the Emperor personally appointed. I heard that ever since Scholar Hu passed away, he’s been the one teaching you. If that’s the case, what’s there to rush about? I just came from the heated hall, where I finally persuaded the Emperor to go to bed. But I still have a few words for you.”
Since the death of Empress Xu, Zhu Di had become just like the original Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang—refusing to appoint an empress. Princess Wang took charge of the six palaces. Though she was gentle by nature, she was the only one who dared to advise Zhu Di when he was angry. During the incident when the King of Han was almost demoted to a commoner, it was only through her persistent pleas that anything was accomplished, even if the crown prince had intervened. Even Zhu Zhanji sometimes angered Zhu Di, so he owed Princess Wang his gratitude many times over.
Immediately, he bowed respectfully, saying, “Please, Princess, enlighten me.”
“There’s nothing much to teach—just a few words of advice. Come, sit down.” She gestured for Zhu Zhanji to sit at the western end of the kang, then said, “The incident of the Han King being assassinated was left unresolved, and there are many rumors both inside and outside the court. Yet the Emperor has always been troubled by it. I’ve seen that blood-stained robe several times in the inner study, and every time the Emperor would sigh and recall those events, showing clearly his frustration at the man’s failure to live up to his expectations. As the crown prince, spend more time with the Emperor discussing family matters when you’re free. Under no circumstances mention this matter again, understand?”
If someone else had droned on about such things, Zhu Zhanji would have dismissed them with disdain. But since the Empress Consort was speaking so seriously, he didn’t dare neglect her and quickly agreed. As they talked, he suddenly noticed patches of gray hair visible beneath the gold and jade hairpins at her temples, and her face appeared much thinner and paler than last year. He felt a pang of sympathy, but then the Empress Consort suddenly asked, “By the way, I just heard you and Scholar Xiao Yang mention Zhang Yue— isn’t he the nephew of the Duke of Ying?”
“That’s right. How come even the Empress Consort knows of him?”
“Everyone in the palace who can read has read his remarkable essay. How could I not know?” The Empress Consort smiled slightly and explained further, “After the Duchess of Ying’s visit ended, she was questioned by several concubines, and that’s when I learned that the young man remained unmarried because of something the Emperor said. Everyone was surprised! In fact, when I went to the Warm Hall just now, I saw the Emperor reading the petition jointly signed by him and others. His expression changed frequently—sometimes gloomy, sometimes bright—which was quite striking. Fortunately, in the end he put the petition aside in the left corner of the imperial desk. That spot is usually reserved for documents to be reviewed later, showing that despite his youth, he indeed possesses real talent.”
Zhu Zhanji was also aware of Zhu Di’s habit, and now he became even more curious about what was written in the petition. After all, Zhang Yue had mentioned salt affairs when giving him gifts earlier, and since then a series of major events had occurred. It would be strange if he himself hadn’t taken any action. After exchanging a few more words with the Empress Consort, he promised her that he would never bring up irrelevant topics in front of Zhu Di. Then he personally saw her out and immediately took out the copied petition from his sleeve.
Zhu Zhanji had read Meng Xian’s memorial. He didn’t know which talented hand had written it—every word seemed to be for the sake of the country and its people, as if ten thousand jin of salt could save the people of Shandong from dire straits. Meanwhile, Sun Lianggan’s memorial was filled with indignation from start to finish, implying that the Prince of Shouguang was utterly wicked and the Prince of Han had ulterior motives, urging the court to consider the people’s suffering and even suggesting that the emperor should punish his own kin for justice’s sake.
Zhang Yue also mentioned the same matter, but only briefly, instead analyzing the pros and cons of the salt distribution system in great detail and proposing improvements. That alone would have made it an excellent article, but at the end, he mentioned that Shandong first built the Huitong River to supply wood and stone for building palaces in Beijing, burdening the people with corvée labor—seeing this, Zhu Zhanji’s expression darkened.
“This kid… doesn’t he know that excess is as bad as deficiency?”
As Zhu Zhanji stamped his foot in frustration, Du Zhen, who was reviewing a copy of Zhang Yue’s memorial, also sighed deeply.
He had traveled across the country for ten years, spending the longest time in Henan, followed by Shandong. So when the officials of the provincial administration bullied him for being new, he just smiled it off. Although it seemed he always followed the lead of the left governor, Zhang Hai, after the assassination of the Prince of Han, a severe snowstorm in Shandong, and then a major salt-related scandal, Zhang Hai nearly gave up—yet it was he who held things together. Now, Lao Song Li was leading an investigation into cases across Shandong, and yet Zhang Yue suddenly submitted such a memorial!
The timing was perfect, the suggestions were good, and the wording was flawless—his years of teaching hadn’t been in vain. But why add that extra point? The Huitong River was built to facilitate grain transport, and Beijing was constructed to serve as the new capital—wasn’t this deliberately creating problems for himself? Just as he shook his head again, a voice came from behind.
“Sir, why are you shaking your head and sighing? The Yuan Festival is still ahead. Even if the memorial isn’t perfect, you don’t need to be so critical.” Lady Qiu had heard from Mingdi that Du Zhen was unhappy, so she rushed over in a hurry. Seeing Du Zhen turn around, she scolded, “Besides, even if you think the Yuan Festival is good, like I do, you didn’t have to rush and send Wan there. You told me to be prepared for any contingency, but in my eyes, he’s just getting promoted—there’s no danger at all!”
Du Zhen naturally knew well his wife’s temperament and couldn’t help but laugh silently at that moment. However, when he heard Mrs. Qiu say that Zhang Yue had only been promoted and hadn’t encountered any danger, he suddenly understood—what had puzzled him before became clear. Issuing an edict to seek honest advice was surely a form of reward; Zhang Yue’s proposal combined his own earlier views with some new and interesting ideas, and he might well be promoted again as a result. But Zhang Yue had just been promoted not long ago, so another promotion would be astonishing.
“I have my reasons for keeping Wan’er there,” Du Zhen said thoughtfully, setting down the copy in his hand. “Dangers that are invisible are the most dangerous. Although deep winter has passed, now that the spring thunder has roared, this is just the beginning. Tomorrow, choose two capable servants to deliver some items to Qingzhou for Yuan Jie and Wan’er—uh, those silver and crimson tassel brooches they sent before. Just have them taken there.”