s: This chapter will not be available for subscription for now, as I am diligently revising the previous chapters.
If they compromised this time, acceding to the students’ demands and abolishing the ancestral rule that "students are not allowed to advise," would these students, having tasted success, demand even more in the future?
If they compromised this time, reintroducing the old practice of selecting officials through the imperial examinations according to the students’ demands, wouldn't the path of upward mobility for the common people of the Great Ming be blocked once again, and wouldn't the right to speak be monopolized by those scholars?
Yes, scapegoating Zeng Cheng and Liu Heming could indeed resolve the issue with those students, but after Zeng Cheng and Liu Heming met the fate of "the cunning rabbit is dead, the running dog is cooked," who would be willing to serve the Great Ming wholeheartedly in the future?
For example, the North-South examination scandal during the Hongwu era, the civil officials killing the Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander Ma Shun during the Zhengde era, and the open secret of selling the Grand Secretaries at marked prices during the Chongzhen era, with everyone except Emperor Chongzhen knowing about it—these disgraceful matters had occurred frequently throughout history.
Zhu Jinsong naturally did not wish for these disgraceful matters to repeat themselves.
After laughing heartily, Zhu Jinsong let out a cold snort and said, “Right is right, and wrong is wrong. They are clearly in the wrong, so why are you two acting as if the court is at fault?”
Zeng Cheng and Liu Heming exchanged glances again and then cautiously said, “Your Majesty, the public opinion of the world…”
Zhu Jinsong directly waved his hand and retorted with a smile, “Public opinion? Let me ask you, is this world the world of the people, or the world of scholars?”
Zeng Cheng was immediately choked into speechlessness.
Before the Song Dynasty, the world nominally belonged to the emperor, but in reality, it was the world of aristocratic clans.
After the Song Dynasty, the world nominally still belonged to the emperor, but in reality, it had already become the world of scholar-officials.
Was there any difference between scholar-officials and aristocratic clans?
From a literal perspective, scholar-officials represented the interests of the entire Confucian circle, while aristocratic clans represented the interests of a particular clan or surname. Naturally, scholar-officials from humble backgrounds desired more power, and the aloof aristocratic clans were absolutely unwilling to give up their power and interests. Therefore, the two could be said to be in contradiction.
However, when looking at the essence through all the appearances, it was not difficult to discover that whether it was the scholar-official group or the clan families, their fundamental aim was to achieve a monopoly of officialdom and block the upward paths of others by monopolizing educational resources, thereby ensuring that power circulated within their circles.
A scholar-official who did not wish to become an aristocratic clan member was not a qualified scholar-official.
As for the "people of the world" mentioned by Emperor Zhu?
The people of the world naturally included more than just scholar-officials and aristocratic clans, but scholar-officials and aristocratic clans could, through the control of public discourse they held, package themselves as representatives of the people of the world.
Therefore, Emperor Zhu's question itself was problematic—scholar-officials could grandly claim that they were the people of the world, and thus this world was the world of the people of the world.
It was also the world of scholar-officials.
However, Zeng Cheng also knew clearly that since Emperor Zhu had asked this question, it meant that in Emperor Zhu's eyes, the people of the world did not solely refer to the scholar-official group, but rather all the common people of the Great Ming.
After a long silence, Zeng Cheng slightly bowed and replied, “Your Majesty's heart yearns for the people of the world, but the people of the world may not necessarily understand Your Majesty's earnest efforts.”
Emperor Zhu let out a chuckle. Not only did he disregard Zeng Cheng's persuasion, but he also stood up and paced slowly, saying, “Right and wrong are not decided by me, nor by you two, nor by those who wish to lord over the common people. What truly decides it are the millions upon millions of people of the Great Ming—even if those scoundrels can deceive the people for a time, I will merely bear the infamy for a few years. When the people see through their true colors, they will naturally render justice to me.”
Emperor Zhu's words were spoken in a perfectly balanced manner, yet they struck Zeng Cheng like a bolt from the blue, filling him with dread.
The phrase "act with power and authority" was actually a worn-out idiom, let alone the sentence in the "Records of the Three Kingdoms: Wei Zhi: Biography of Jiang Ji" which stated, "Indeed, 'acting with power and authority' is a clear admonition from the Book," and the seventy-first chapter of "Dream of the Red Chamber" also contained the sentence, "As long as she pleases the Old Madam, she can act with power and authority."
A portion of it would need to be allocated to the Japanese imperial family; they did not care whether the envoys sent to the Ming were suitable for study or not, they only cared about the aristocratic standing of the envoys.
The shogunate would also need to take a portion. While the shogunate cared about aristocratic standing, they also cared about whether the envoys had the talent for studying.
As for the regional lords and daimyo, it was much simpler. They cared neither about the aristocratic standing of the envoys nor about their talent for studying, because the envoys they dispatched were all their own family members, and studying in the Great Ming was merely a fast track for their family’s younger generation to climb the social ladder.
Only the remaining envoy quotas, after being distributed among various parties, could be freely allocated by Tokugawa Ienari.
Tokugawa Ienari had also considered keeping all the envoy quotas for himself, but after repeated deliberation, he had to abandon this beautiful idea.
Because Tokugawa Ienari had not yet succeeded in usurping the throne, Kōkaku-tennō was still the nominal King of Japan, and while the Edo shogunate held power, it was inferior to Kōkaku-tennō in terms of legitimacy. Furthermore, Kōkaku-tennō was also enfeoffed as the ruler of Japan by the Emperor of the Great Ming, so the allocation of envoy quotas to the Great Ming could naturally not bypass Kōkaku-tennō.
Succeeded in usurping the throne?
In fact, Tokugawa Ienari understood clearly that even if he succeeded in usurping the throne, it would be impossible to consolidate control over all of Japan in a short period, even for the purpose of ensuring Japan's stability. Even if he wanted to ensure Japan did not fall into chaos, the allocation of envoy quotas could not be truly fair and just, and he could only allocate them according to the existing model.
Even if Tokugawa Ienari only held onto the envoy quotas from the imperial court, these regional lords and daimyo would be quite dissatisfied. If Tokugawa Ienari further allocated his quotas to those scholars who had talent for studying but lacked aristocratic standing, these regional lords and daimyo might do more than just be dissatisfied; they might even trigger another anti-shogunate movement among the various domains.
Japan, after all, had a glorious tradition of "gekokujō" (the low prevailing over the high) that was consistent.
Rather than triggering another event like the domains rebelling against the shogunate, Tokugawa Ienari felt it would be better to allocate a portion of these quotas and strive, through the addition of conditional restrictions, to increase the opportunities for these quotas to be allocated to commoners with the talent for studying.
After a moment of silent contemplation, Tokugawa Ienari surveyed the assembled regional lords and daimyo once more and said solemnly, "Those who agree to this condition may begin preparing their respective envoy candidates for the Great Ming. If you do not agree… then this opportunity to increase quotas will naturally have nothing to do with you."
Upon hearing the added conditions from Tokugawa Ienari, the regional lords and daimyo present actually breathed a sigh of relief.
Having conditions was better than having no conditions at all.
As for the restrictive conditions set by Tokugawa Ienari, requiring that two quotas be allocated to talented commoner scholars… could that even be considered a condition?
Shimazu Hisamitsu and Matsudaira Nobunobu immediately took the lead in bowing and said, "Hai! We respectfully obey the Shogun's command!"
After Zeng Cheng and Liu Heming left the Hall of Heavenly Purity, Emperor Zhu, filled with a sense of powerlessness, slumped onto his chair and began to ponder.
Emperor Zhu had considered the same issues that Zeng Cheng and Liu Heming had, and he was well aware of the sensation that would be caused throughout the Great Ming by dealing with a case involving nearly a hundred thousand people—it wouldn't be surprising if someone rose up in rebellion!
Of course, from a purely imperial perspective, "the law does not punish the multitude" was a good thing, and allowing certain individuals to break down the dam was also a good thing—without the contrast of hardship, how could one know the taste of sweetness?
However, Emperor Zhu ultimately decided to deal with them all.
The so-called "law does not punish the multitude" was more akin to the relationship between floods and dams.
When floods arrive, the dams managed by anyone are at risk of breaching. Only by strictly assigning responsibility to each individual can everyone be motivated to reinforce the dams.
If, because of the so-called "law does not punish the multitude," certain scoundrels were allowed to collude and dig through the dams? Should those scoundrels be let off because they had families?
The only outcome of doing so would be to drag everyone down to death together—dragging the common people today, the officials tomorrow, and then Emperor Zhu himself the day after tomorrow?
After pondering for a long time, Emperor Zhu suddenly raised his head and sternly commanded, "Transfer the Solon Camp from Heilongjiang to Shangluo."
Zhang Dequan, who had been standing behind Emperor Zhu, immediately acknowledged the order, but a tempestuous wave surged in his heart—among the many armies of the Great Ming, there were two particularly special ones. One was the First Army stationed outside the capital, and among its three infantry divisions, the First Division was entirely composed of soldiers from the Shandong Provincial Administration Commission, with the First Regiment even being entirely made up of soldiers from Ningyang County. The other special army was the Solon Camp.
Judging by its name, the Solon Camp was a camp-level army, but in terms of actual establishment, the Solon Camp was a complete division-level establishment, and all its soldiers were from the Solon tribe, equipped and trained entirely to the standards of an A-class mountain division.
The Imperial Guard First Army and the Solon Camp, although their combined strength was only a mere forty thousand men, possessed the most elite combat capabilities among all the armies of the Great Ming. A single division-level Solon Camp could go head-to-head with a full-strength army!
What was more important was that the Imperial Guard First Army and the Solon Camp had always revered Emperor Zhu as a god and had always obeyed only Emperor Zhu's orders, completely disregarding the orders of others. Even the Grand Commander of the Five Military Commissions, Liu Heming, could not command them!
Emperor Zhu's action of drawing the Solon Camp to Shangluo clearly signaled to everyone: If you have the guts, just rebel!
However, as soon as Zhang Dequan dispatched Emperor Zhu's decree, Ke Zhiming, who had rushed to the palace, brought even worse news: "Many students from the Imperial Academy and Beijing University are now gathered outside the palace, demanding that Your Majesty abolish the prohibition decreed by the Ancestral Emperor that 'only students are not allowed to advise.' Many officials residing in the capital are also involved! And also..."
Seeing Ke Zhiming hesitate, Emperor Zhu couldn't help but let out a cold snort, "And what?"
Ke Zhiming's heart trembled, and he bowed, saying, "And also, those students are demanding that Your Majesty restore the imperial examinations!"
Upon hearing this news, Emperor Zhu let out a ha-ha laugh, and the expression on his face gradually became ferocious.
Although Emperor Zhu had been striving to change, the Great Ming had ultimately not completely shed certain characteristics of feudal dynasties.
Or rather, some residual characteristics of feudal dynasties were deliberately preserved by Emperor Zhu.
For example, the common people bowing to officials—normally, the common people only needed to clasp their hands in greeting when encountering officials, but once a court case was opened, the common people were required to perform a kneeling bow to the officials.
Another example was the punishment of flaying alive and confiscating the property of the offender, as well as implicating their families and even their clans—since they had received the kneeling bows of the common people, they should be prepared to be flayed alive for accepting sixty taels of silver in bribes.
Of course, there was also the regulation by Zhu Chongba that "regarding all the benefits and disadvantages of the military and the populace, students are not allowed to advise—if there are any matters of benefit or disadvantage to the military and the populace, it is permitted for the relevant authorities, wise individuals in seclusion, aspiring strong men, simple farmers, merchants, and artisans to speak of them. No one is allowed to obstruct them, only students are not allowed." This regulation was completely preserved by Emperor Zhu.
That's right, the Great Ming permitted farmers to point fingers at court affairs, permitted anyone else to point fingers at court affairs, and even permitted them to publish articles in newspapers to comment on court affairs, but it strictly prohibited the group of "students" from advising on court affairs.
The term "student" referred to all scholars from county schools all the way to universities—the Great Ming mandated that all children must receive complete education in community schools and county schools, but it was not mandatory for prefectural schools and universities, as the Great Ming could not afford it.
This resulted in a peculiar phenomenon: anyone casually grabbed on the street might be a graduate of a county school, but only a very small portion had truly completed prefectural school or even just attended prefectural school. Those who could attend university and graduate from university were even fewer.
In other words, by the standards of the Great Ming or the Great Qing in the past, the current Great Ming might have hundreds of millions of Xiu Cai (licentiates), but Juren (graduates) and Jinshi (metropolitan graduates) were still rare treasures.
The common people also implicitly regarded scholars studying at universities as equivalent to Jinshi. Although there was a trend of slight proliferation with the increase in numbers, no matter how much they proliferated, the status of Jinshi still seemed to be slightly superior.
Since Emperor Zhu re-established the Great Ming, the taxes that had originally suffocated his family were gone. All the grain grown by his own family belonged to his own family, and there were no more landlords coming to demand rent. The days of waking up hungry in the middle of the night and having to rely on drinking water to quench thirst were gone forever.
What was this?
This was a great kindness that saved their lives!
Now, these scholars, instead of repaying the emperor, were kneeling outside the palace crying and shouting for the restoration of ancestral systems. What were they trying to do?
In other words, by the standards of the Great Ming or the Great Qing in the past, the current Great Ming might have hundreds of millions of Xiu Cai, but Juren and Jinshi were still rare treasures.