Chapter 96: Imperial Authority and Ministerial Power—The Emperor's Reluctance

Old Zhu wore a stern expression, his body trembling uncontrollably—he was clearly struggling to maintain composure. Though he longed to uphold the emperor’s dignity, the moment Zhu Biao spoke, he couldn’t help but break character.

Faced with such a father, Zhu Biao felt helpless. The youthful worries he had been nursing quietly within were suddenly dispelled by that rare laugh from Old Zhu.

After laughing a few times, Old Zhu quickly hardened his face again. He still wished, as emperor and father, to preserve his authority as much as possible.

“Hmm, that boy’s style of attack is quite unique!”

Zhu Yuanzhang pulled from the memorial a book and an accompanying scroll of paintings.

“A while ago, the Sichuan Provincial Administration submitted a memorial reporting the discovery of a strange beast in the mountains, a so-called iron-eating beast, along with an illustration. Take a look.”

Zhu Biao took the scroll and gave a wry smile. Having been punched twice by Zhang Yi, and after applying medicine to disperse the bruises, he did bear some resemblance to the iron-eating beast depicted.

“And he even drank wine… looks like he ran into some trouble! Alright, you may go rest now. Tomorrow, Zhang Yi’s head will be displayed before the Eastern Palace…”

Zhu Yuanzhang finished speaking and waved for Zhu Biao to leave.

Zhu Biao froze, then suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud.

“Father, you intend to execute the Zhang family’s son?”

“How so? He dared strike my son, and you think I’ll let it slide? Does he think that just because he has some utility, he can act with impunity? Today, I want to see if the Zhang family’s so-called immortals can protect their descendants from death.”

Though there was a trace of amusement in Old Zhu’s expression, the murderous intent behind his words was unmistakably real.

Zhu Yuanzhang was truly enraged. Regardless of the reasons behind Zhang Yi’s assault on Zhu Biao, injury was injury, and he refused to hear excuses.

“Father, Zhang Yi must not be killed! There was a cause for him hitting me!”

“What cause? Speak now.”

Zhu Yuanzhang’s voice still carried residual fury. Zhu Biao, feeling slightly embarrassed, had no choice but to confess shamefully:

“He was teaching Miss Chang the practice of childbirth yoga. I was hiding nearby, spying, and he caught me. That’s why he hit me!”

Zhu Yuanzhang: ...

The Qingxin Temple had not been involved, and was unaware of the incidents occurring in the courtyard.

Zhu Biao hurriedly recounted everything he had seen and heard, clarifying the entire sequence of events, and he emphasized the severity of his spying on the Chang family.

Childbirth yoga?

That rascal was teaching his future daughter-in-law how to give birth?

Old Zhu had fathered many children himself, yet he didn’t know the first thing about how pregnant women delivered babies. How could that scoundrel know better?

Old Zhu’s anger flared, almost scorching everything around him.

Yet as Zhu Biao spoke on, Old Zhu gradually calmed.

Zhu Biao wasn’t mistaken; from Zhang Yi’s words, Zhu Yuanzhang pieced together a glimpse of the future—one that faintly pointed toward Zhu Biao himself.

He dared not touch that answer, fearing the future it revealed might be unbearable.

The turning point of fate lay with the Miss Chang?

“Midwifery training?”

“Yes. Zhang Yi said at least it might give Miss Chang a slim chance at survival. My spying was improper behavior, so Zhang Yi was justified in hitting me. He didn’t know I was the crown prince; he thought I was just some lecherous fool. He struck me because I sullied my future daughter-in-law’s reputation. But he didn’t expose me, out of some regard for our friendship. So, I beg Father to rescind the death order!”

Zhu Biao knelt repeatedly before the emperor, fearing that Zhu Yuanzhang would not change his mind. If Old Zhu remained resolute, he would have no choice but to confront him about his anxieties and the matter of antibiotics.

Fortunately, after hearing this, Zhu Yuanzhang finally cooled down.

“You good-for-nothing… fine, I’ll deal with that rascal for you tomorrow…”

“Father!”

Zhu Biao thought he was about to order Zhang Yi’s death again and called out once more. Seeing the dark circles under his eyes, Old Zhu found himself unable to stay angry.

“I won’t kill him, as long as he doesn’t go too far. That boy has great utility! By the way, I have a question for you. You’ve also seen the memorial from Yangzhou, right? What do you think of that whole ‘navy’ idea?”

Zhu Yuanzhang finally changed the subject, and Zhu Biao breathed a sigh of relief. He answered respectfully:

“Very effective, but not orthodox. It shouldn’t be used often.”

“Not orthodox, but a deadly weapon. I am seriously considering establishing a ‘navy’!”

“Father!”

The matter of the navy was one of the few things Zhu Biao disagreed with Zhang Yi about.

Seeing his father indulge in such dubious methods, Zhu Biao felt uneasy.

Zhang Yi’s approach was essentially no different from the subversive tactics used by the White Lotus rebels to manipulate the populace—it was just more professional.

“Do you think this is unorthodox?”

Zhu Yuanzhang’s words were laden with meaning, and Zhu Biao nodded.

“It is unorthodox, but also a way out.

“Biao’er, have you ever heard this story?”

Instead of directly answering, Zhu Yuanzhang told him a tale:

“In the fourth year of the Xining era under Emperor Shenzong of the Song dynasty, the emperor gathered officials from the two government branches to discuss suppressing a rebellion in Qingzhou. But during the debate, the topic shifted to Wang Anshi’s reforms. At that time, the prime minister Wen Yanbo told the emperor that the ancestral laws must be preserved and not altered, lest the people’s hearts be lost.

“Shenzong mocked Wen Yanbo, saying that though the reforms displeased the scholars and officials, did it matter what the common people thought?

“Wen Yanbo retorted: The ruler governs with the help of the scholars and officials, not the common folk.

“Emperor Shenzong was helpless and accepted this.”

After finishing, Zhu Yuanzhang asked:

“The ruler governs with the scholars and officials, not with the people. What do you make of this? As the crown prince and future ruler of the Ming, what do you see in this story?”

Zhu Biao lowered his head, silent for a long while.

Zhu Yuanzhang answered for him:

“It’s a helpless truth.

“Just as I wanted to kill Kong Kejian but had to resort to dark schemes rather than outright execution—that’s helplessness.

“Wen Yanbo was a man of true character. Though I dislike his words, I admire his personality, because unlike the Confucian gentlemen who always speak of ‘people as the foundation’ and ‘not competing with the people for profit,’ he ripped off the facade of Confucianism, exposing the hypocrisy between ruler and scholar-officials.

“Saints and sacred learning are all falsehoods!

“The scholar-officials seek to realize their ambitions and gain benefits through the ruler, but the ruler is also bound by them and cannot easily sever ties.

“In plain terms, it’s a power struggle between royal authority and ministerial power.

“You must understand this, and always be wary of such people!”

Had Zhu Yuanzhang spoken thus before, Zhu Biao might have rejected it silently, refusing to accept his father’s viewpoint.

But now, tainted by Zhang Yi’s influence, Zhu Biao had lost some innocence and gained a harsher understanding of the world.

So this time, he silently nodded.

“Then let me ask you: if you were emperor, would you accept this?”

Zhu Biao replied:

“Helplessness breeds resentment, of course. But resentment doesn’t change the fact that the ruler and scholar-officials are interdependent. Neither can do without the other. Zhang Yi once said, Father harbors some hatred for officials, yet you still endure it.

“Father, throughout the ages, emperors have lived this way. Resentful, yet resigned.”

“But what if I told you that Zhang Yi’s unorthodox methods could help the ruler wrest some power back from the scholar-officials? What then?”

Zhu Biao’s expression shifted subtly, but he refrained from speaking immediately, waiting for the emperor to continue.

“The scholar-officials hold two kinds of power the ruler lacks: one is the authority to assist the ruler in governing, which necessitates mutual reliance; the other is a monopoly over knowledge and dissemination, controlling public opinion throughout the realm.

“Though the ruler is supreme, confined within the palace, those outside are his ears, eyes, hands, and mouth. But should they turn against him, the ruler can be isolated, becoming blind, deaf, and mute.

“Take me as an example: when I founded the dynasty, I confiscated wealth from southern merchants. Those rascals wrote books and memoirs denouncing me—do you think I was unaware?

“Even that scoundrel who slandered me as having a shoehorn face...

“But what could I do? The pens are in their hands. Even if I executed some, more would remain.”

Zhu Biao refrained from judging the emperor’s harsh measures against the southern merchants, but he understood Zhu Yuanzhang’s point, as it led to the main topic.

“There are three classes: ruler, scholar-officials, and common people. The commoners are the weakest and easiest to manipulate. ‘The will of the people’ is passed by word of mouth and felt through tangible benefits. When the people praise the ruler, where does their information come from?

“The scholar-officials wield the pen that shapes public opinion!

“Zhang Yi’s naval strategy showed me that the ruler can manipulate public opinion!”

Zhu Yuanzhang’s words enlightened Zhu Biao.

His father valued the “navy” not just for military might, but for Zhang Yi’s ability to incite and control public opinion—what Zhang Yi called “propaganda studies.” Ministerial power and royal authority rely on and compete with each other.

Zhang Yi had once said that the emperor harbored an instinctive wariness and hatred toward the scholar-official class, driving him to centralize power and weaken their influence.

The scholar-officials’ authority could be likened to the ruler’s limbs and senses.

The existence of the Inspectorate reflected the emperor’s distrust of officials as his eyes and ears, hence the establishment of a separate surveillance agency.

Now, Zhu Yuanzhang sought to create a “mouthpiece” through the navy.

“Father speaks wisely!”

Though Zhu Biao’s temperament differed from his father’s, his allegiance was to the throne. After his father’s counsel, he grasped the deeper meaning.

“Go pry more from that rascal’s mouth. You may rest now. Tomorrow, meet with that Kong boy.”

After sending Zhu Biao away, Zhu Yuanzhang sat on the dragon throne, lost in thought.

Zhu Biao returned to the Eastern Palace but did not sleep. Instead, he pored over the documents in hand, searching for ways to raise funds.

“This device won’t do, that one’s too costly, no good…”

“Your Highness Crown Prince!”

“Out!”

...

The next day, Kong Ne, following the crown prince’s instructions, waited early outside the palace.

He watched officials arrive and depart from court.

He noticed a Taoist passing by, greeted by palace eunuchs.

“Master Zhang, you’ve returned?”

Kong Ne caught the flattering tone of the eunuch’s voice—it was Zhang Zhengchang from Mount Longhu, who had gone to Ying Tian to assist the emperor with the epidemic.

The Zhang family of Longhu Mountain!

Kong Ne etched Zhang Zhengchang’s image and voice into his memory.

“His Majesty requests that Master Kong also enter!”

(End of chapter)