Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Zhang Youyu repeatedly stroked the abacus, his tone filled with worry:

"Mr. Taichō, you said you wanted the abacus beads to roll independently..."

Before he could finish speaking, several beads at the end of the abacus suddenly exploded, scattering and crashing to the ground.

"But if these scattered beads are not strung together, they will eventually become a mess."

He then questioned,

"What if the Ministry of Justice were to measure the sky with an iron ruler, and the Ministry of Revenue were to privately mint copper coins to enrich themselves?"

"Therefore, a fourth tripod is needed—"

Huang Zongxi immediately picked up his brush and added a fourth tripod to the paper.

The setting sun shone through the window, casting his slender figure into a long silhouette.

"The Imperial College should serve as the eyes and ears of the nation!"

His voice was clear and resonant, each word ringing with conviction.

"On the first and fifteenth of each month, the officials of the Six Ministries must go to the Imperial Academy to be questioned. Students can ask questions about political affairs, and the questions and answers are recorded, engraved into the official gazette, and distributed to the academies of the prefectures and counties."

Suddenly, the mules and horses of the salt smugglers outside the window let out a piercing neigh, instantly drowning out the sound of the river waves.

Huang Zongxi remained unmoved, his voice growing even more impassioned, his eyes gleaming with idealism:

"In the past, during the Eastern Han Dynasty, 30,000 students from the Imperial Academy discussed the affairs of the court, and the high officials avoided their sharp edge; during the Song Dynasty, students knelt before the palace gates and petitioned for the appointment of Li Gang to resist the Jin."

"The Imperial Academy today should serve as a mirror for supervision, encouraging frank and courageous remonstrance, so that what the emperor deems right may not be right."

What the emperor deems right may not actually be right.

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"If local officials levy eighteen miscellaneous taxes, the students may beat drums and horns to signal to the crowd—this is the fourth cauldron's eyes and ears!"

When the words "What the emperor deems right may not be right" reached Zhu Cilang's ears, his fingertips, which were caressing the teacup, paused almost imperceptibly for a moment.

A thunderous cheer erupted from inside the attic:

"Mr. Taichong's great talk!"

The sound surged like a tidal wave.

Huang Zongxi suddenly snatched the sandalwood abacus from Zhang Youyu's hand:

"Look at this abacus—"

Zhang Youyu leaned closer and saw Huang Zongxi's five fingers flying, quickly arranging the abacus beads into three rows.

He demonstrated and explained simultaneously:

First column of beads (royal power):

"The emperor holds military power, but the deployment of troops and provisions are subject to constraints!"

Second column of beads (judicial):

"Criminal cases are handled by the Dali Temple, and the handling of cases must strictly adhere to legal provisions and empirical procedures."

Third column of beads (administrative):

"How can the Ministry of Revenue decide on all the money and grain? We should follow the example of Yu the Great dredging the nine rivers—part of it should be allocated to the Grand Canal, part to granaries, and part to local authorities."

He spread his palms above the abacus, making a diversion gesture.

“Pah!”

The abacus suddenly jolted and returned to its original position.

His ink-stained index finger tapped heavily on the abacus:

"If everything is in the emperor's hands, it will be like the mining tax disaster during the Wanli era, where the abacus beads became blood and mud under the hooves of the Eastern Depot's servants!"

Zhang Youyu seemed unconvinced, his brows furrowed, and asked again:

"If the four tripods could truly operate, how could the twelve tax checkpoints have all ended up in the pockets of the eunuchs in charge?"

Huang Zongxi suddenly looked up, his voice resolute:

"The vessel itself has no spirit; its power lies in the person who wields it, not in the vessel!"

"If the Imperial Academy merely has twenty-eight imperial seals, it would be better to emulate the Jixia Academy of the Warring States period and allow merchants and artisans to enter the academy to discuss politics."

Just as the two were arguing heatedly—

"Bang!"

Zhu Cilang suddenly stood up, knocking over the rattan chair beneath him. The chair collided with the wooden plank with a dull thud.

"Sir, are you suggesting that these four powers are meant to use the Jixia Academy as a furnace and the public opinion of the people as charcoal?"

"With this casting method, not only will the imperial court be shaken, but the entire land of China will resonate with its clang."

He pressed his palm heavily on the diagram of the division of power on the tripod drawn by Huang Zongxi.

"Sir, your theory of the separation of powers is indeed brilliant, but now this country has long been divided into a thousand layers of power."

He suddenly turned around, his long fingers pointing like swords at the Yangtze River outside the window:

"Just take the Yangtze River waterway as an example—"

"After paying the toll in Jiujiangwei, you have to pay the pilotage tax in Anqing Prefecture. The brokerage firm in Wuchang City also takes a 30% commission."

Behind the twelve tax checkpoints stood twelve 'garrison officials' who obeyed orders but not decrees.

Zhu Cilang suddenly pulled out an ivory-carved abacus from his waist and held it high for all to see:

"Gentlemen, please look!"

His voice suddenly rose in pitch.

"Zhang Xianzhong's 'Great Western' had an imperial seal carved on it, Zuo Liangyu's 'Chu Fan' had copper coins cast, and even the Zheng family's ships were embroidered with four-clawed pythons."

"Liu Zeqing seized land in Huai'an to raise a private army, and Ma Shiying used the salt tax from Yangzhou as dowry."

"Not to mention the rebel leaders in Shaanxi and the Yao chieftains in Guangdong and Guangxi—weren't they all power-grabbing schemes that drained the people's resources?"

He moved an abacus bead with each sentence he spoke.

"The county and prefectural governments required seven official seals to collect three taxes, and clerks could smuggle disaster relief grain through eighteen grain transport checkpoints."

"The generals of each garrison hold considerable power, the provincial governors impose their own miscellaneous taxes, and the princes and nobles seize land and estates—aren't they all local emperors?"

"Isn't this all about decentralization?"

He surveyed the crowd, each word dripping with chilling cold:

"Gentlemen, would you rather pledge allegiance to a wise ruler, or kneel before a hundred local tyrants?"

Outside the window, the neighing of salt smugglers' mules and horses had long since disappeared; only the heavy waves of the river lamented against the shore.

Zhu Cilang's words were like a cold scalpel.

Dissect their ideal of "decentralization" along with the harsh reality, revealing the rotten lesions within.

Those warlords who carved out their own territories, those domineering regional governors, and those greedy tax collectors.

Under Zhu Cilang's questioning, it transformed into countless grinning phantoms of local tyrants, piling up on top of each other on the pavilion.

Is it better to be loyal to a wise ruler or to submit to hundreds or thousands of local tyrants?

This question struck a heavy blow to everyone's heart.

The scene was completely silent; everyone was deeply shaken.

The wine cup in Huang Zongxi's hand was suspended in mid-air, the wine trembling slightly in the cup.

In the corner, a young student's calligraphy brush fell to the ground with a "plop," but he was completely unaware, staring blankly at Zhu Cilang.

Zhu Cilang leaned down, gazing intently at the "Four Powers Tripod" painting by Huang Zongxi:

"The so-called 'division' has become a fig leaf for regional separatism, and the so-called 'power' has become a sharp blade for exploiting the people."

His voice was deep and somber.

"The most urgent task is not to talk about dividing power into four parts, but to uproot these malignant tumors."

"If local governments are allowed to govern themselves, even if there are ten 'four-power tripods', they will be nothing more than flowers in a mirror or the moon's reflection in water."

Huang Zongxi was silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head:

"Your words are wise, young master, but isn't this scene of widespread chaos a direct consequence of the centuries-long abuse of power by monarchs?"

Chen Zisheng suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his face a mixture of confusion and urgency:

"Division brings worry, unity brings trouble; where then lies the way to govern the world?"

Zhu Cilang lightly flicked his sleeves, his gaze sweeping over the crowd:

"Don't you gentlemen understand? The crux of the matter doesn't lie in the debate over the division and unification of the tripods."

The crowd unconsciously gathered around.

Chen Zisheng leaned almost halfway over the wooden table, the jade pendant at his waist dangling above the inkstone.

"Why do you say that, sir?"

Huang Zongxi also looked intently:

"I wish to hear your insightful and thought-provoking words, sir."

Zhu Cilang took a step forward, his voice reverberating across the roof tiles:

"The dam collapsed due to a small hole!"

"The problem with this country is not whether or not power is divided, but that oversight is ineffective."

"If there is no iron net to protect the Nine Tripods, they will be divided and run rampant by regional warlords, or united and become tyrannical dictators."

"Oversight?"

Huang Zongxi laughed heartily, his voice booming and drowning out the river breeze:

"From Yangzhou to Wuchang, there were 18 tax checkpoints stamped with 28 imperial censors' seals."

"Every checkpoint claims to be 'overseeing on behalf of the Emperor,' but who is actually overseeing this oversight?"

The iron horse-drawn carriages on the eaves made a crisp sound as the river wind blew against them, which was particularly clear in the silence.