Chapter 77: Life in the Ming Dynasty Is Just Too Difficult

Before the Hall of Heavenly Mandate, the assembled officials were silent as the grave.

Even Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang himself was momentarily at a loss for words.

The conferral of titles upon Zhang Zhengchang was, in truth, a matter of little consequence. The old Zhang was an outsider to officialdom; having presented an auspicious omen, it was only natural that he should receive some reward. Moreover, most officials saw clearly that Zhang Zhengchang was merely a tool used by the emperor to provoke the Kong family. Were it not for the emperor’s intent to humble the Kongs, Old Zhang would never have enjoyed such favor.

Yet even so, Liu Ji stood forth to oppose Old Zhang.

Even more remarkable, Li Shanchang actually seconded Liu Ji’s objection.

This unexpected turn left the seasoned foxes present unsure of their stance, and all fell into utter silence.

It must be known that though the Ming dynasty was newly established, the discord between Li Shanchang and Liu Ji had already become increasingly public—differences of principle, interests, and vision had quietly split the court into two contending factions.

For Liu Ji and Li Shanchang to unite over any matter was a rarity indeed!

But after a moment, the officials grasped the situation. With the two foremost powers of the court already kneeling, what choice remained for the rest?

“Your servant Yang Xian seconds the motion!”

“Your servant Wang Guangyang seconds the motion!”

“Your servant Hu Weiyong seconds the motion!”

…

Before the emperor, the officials knelt in a dark, surging tide.

Zhu Yuanzhang’s face instantly darkened, and Zhang Zhengchang’s heart sank to the depths.

In an instant, the entire civil and military court had become his adversary. He suddenly felt as though the world itself had turned against him.

“Liu Ji, explain yourself—do you find fault with my conferral of rank upon Master Zhang?” Zhu Yuanzhang asked coldly, challenging Liu Ji directly.

Liu Ji’s expression did not change. He replied,

“Your Majesty, both Zhang and Kong belong to our great lineages, and the Kong family descends from the Most Sacred Sage, whose status is unparalleled. Now, Your Majesty bestows honors, yet Kong Xixue is granted only the second rank, while Master Zhang is granted the subordinate first rank. Since antiquity, the sage Kong has been held in highest esteem; when has a Daoist priest ever been placed above the Duke of Yansheng?

“No matter Your Majesty’s reasoning, I must consider this improper!”

Liu Ji was but a breath away from directly accusing Zhu Yuanzhang of deliberate reprisal, but the emperor’s expression remained unchanged.

Zhu Yuanzhang well understood Liu Ji’s temperament, and his questioning likely echoed the dissatisfaction of more than a few officials.

Everyone has their own position, and their own calculations.

These Ming officials—were the emperor simply disciplining the Kong family, most would play deaf and dumb, for, as Zhang Yi had said, few truly favored the power-hungry Kongs. A mascot should behave as such; an aloof, unsullied Kong family was what the scholars esteemed most!

From this standpoint, the emperor’s interests and those of his officials aligned.

Yet the emperor’s misstep was in using the Zhangs to suppress the Kongs.

When the emperor humbles the Kongs, scholars may see it as internal contention, but if the Zhangs are raised above the Kongs, what of Mount Longhu then? In China’s long history, power has always alternated between monarchs and scholars; Daoists are but playthings for kings.

Zhu Yuanzhang understood this, and Zhu Biao was coming to grasp it as well.

Liu Ji’s kneeling, joined by the officials, was not for Kong Xixue’s sake, but to remind Zhu Yuanzhang not to neglect the primacy of Confucianism for the sake of the Kong family.

No wonder, then, that even Li Shanchang and the usual schemers among the officials all knelt as one: this was the entire scholarly class admonishing the emperor.

Zhu Biao felt a measure of sympathy for Zhang Zhengchang, who had, without reason, become a pawn in the struggle between ruler and ministers.

“Heh…” Zhu Yuanzhang’s face betrayed no emotion; after a long while, he gave a soft laugh.

At this, the kneeling officials were more perplexed than ever.

“Liu Ji, answer me: should merit be rewarded?”

“It should!”

“Then answer me this: last time Zhang Zhengchang was in the capital, I granted him the title of ‘Master,’ of the second rank. This time he has rendered extraordinary service—should I not reward him?”

Liu Ji hesitated a moment, then replied,

“He should be rewarded!”

The phrase “extraordinary service” was vague to the court, but that merit deserved reward was an unassailable principle; none could gainsay the emperor.

“Then instruct me: Zhang is already a ‘Master’ of the second rank, and an outsider at that. How, then, should I reward him? Shall I grant him a noble title, or appoint him National Preceptor?”

By now, Zhu Yuanzhang’s words were edged with open anger.

All present fell instantly silent.

Only Liu Ji remained steadfast and replied,

“In my opinion, if Master Zhang has truly performed a deed for the ages, there is no honor too great. But if Your Majesty’s favor is based only on some auspicious omen…”

He was not allowed to finish; Zhu Yuanzhang cut him off and pointed at Zhang Zhengchang.

“Speak.”

Zhang Zhengchang, drawn into this tempest for no reason, found himself caught between emperor and officials, inwardly cursing his fate.

Life in the Great Ming was truly arduous; though he had been a Celestial Master under the Yuan, he had never faced a scene such as this.

Seeing the emperor force him to speak, Zhang Zhengchang braced himself and began,

“In a dream, your humble Daoist beheld the Patriarch descend and bestowed upon me a scripture and a medical text, one volume each.”

At his words, he felt the scornful gaze of the assembly settle upon him.

So it was just the old routine.

Though the ancients believed in spirits, the endless parade of auspicious omens over the centuries had dulled their sense for such things. How could he still resort to these tricks?

Many officials were itching to pounce; were it not for the emperor’s presence, several would likely have risen to denounce him outright.

Feeling the hostile stares, Zhang Zhengchang could not help but inwardly curse his wayward son. If you must present a medical text, do so—why fabricate a false scripture as well? You enjoyed your moment, but in the end, I bear the blame!

He took a deep breath and mustered the courage to continue.

As he spoke, the officials’ belligerence slowly gave way to bewilderment, and at last, silence fell.

Leaving aside tales of divine dreams, the mere mention of smallpox was enough to command their attention.

All present had lived through the chaos at the end of the Yuan: refugees wandered, plague ran rampant.

Who among them had not lost someone to smallpox? Many had seen wives, children, even grandchildren die before their eyes.

Even now, though Ming had reunited the south, the scars of that age endured. And smallpox, the king of plagues, still touched each life.

If Zhang Zhengchang truly possessed a means to eradicate smallpox forever, then even the granting of noble rank would not be too much.

For this was no fleeting matter, but a boon to countless generations!

Now, the only question was whether this Daoist was a charlatan.

After all, history held no few emperors who had been deceived by Daoists. Zhang Zhengchang, having been stripped of his Celestial Master title, might well risk such a gamble.

“Is…this reliable?” Liu Bowen spoke the question on every official’s mind.

Zhu Yuanzhang’s expression was grim. “Do you take me for a superstitious fool who believes in immortality?”

The officials glanced at one another. At his prime, Zhu Yuanzhang did not seem the type to pursue such delusions.

If that was so, their opposition now seemed awkward indeed.

“All of you, scheming day and night, yet never handling proper matters! Liu Ji, Li Shanchang, and Master Zhang—come to the Imperial Library at once!”

Old Zhu, furious, flung these words at the officials and left the Hall of Heavenly Mandate with Zhu Biao.

Once out of sight, the emperor’s face broke into a smile.

“Excellent!”

Seeing the emperor so pleased, Zhu Biao was utterly bewildered.

(End of chapter)