The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the Carpenter Prince!

The lectures were scheduled for the second day of the month.

September 12th, Wenhua Hall.

When Zhu Youxiao arrived, there were already twenty or thirty people standing in the hall.

The lectures on scriptures and daily teachings are not of the same caliber.

The Grand Secretary was also in charge of the Imperial Lectures. The Ministers of the Six Ministries, the Censor-in-Chief, the Commissioner of the Court of Judicial Review, and the Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review were all in attendance. Two lecturers were selected from the Hanlin Academy, and two others were responsible for opening and closing the books. In addition, there were the Master of Ceremonies. The front hall was packed with people.

In short, the Imperial Lectures were essentially half of the central government moved into the Wenhua Hall, with the Grand Secretary personally presiding over public lectures.

This is the setup for large meetings in government offices, the only difference being that back then everyone had a cup of tea, while now everyone has a blue robe.

Zhu Youxiao scanned the area.

Fang Congzhe stood in the center of the first row of attendants, in the exact same position as when he returned to the warm pavilion. This person always stands in the center, no matter where he is.

Liu Yiju on the left, Han Kuang on the right.

Last time, Liu Yizhu stood half a step ahead of Han Kuang in the warm pavilion, and it's the same today.

Even in crowded and chaotic settings like a business banquet, he still stood there, which shows that it wasn't a deliberate expression of opinion, but rather that he was inherently eager to stand out.

Han Kuang stood there steadily, as if he had grown up on the ground.

The arrangement of the three red-robed figures at the lecture was no different from that in the warm pavilion; Fang Congzhe's position as the sole prime minister in the center remained unchanged despite the addition of two more people.

These two have been in the cabinet for almost a month, and it seems they still haven't found a way to loosen Fang Congzhe's position.

Well, those seven years as prime minister weren't for nothing.

Emperor Taichang sat behind his desk, looking fairly well today, his back to the chair was straight.

The Crown Prince's seat was located slightly to the left of the Emperor's desk, half a head shorter.

Students who are out lecturing have a natural right to sit there.

The master of ceremonies chanted the rites, the lecturer bowed, and the book was opened.

Today we'll be discussing Mencius.

Mencius said, "The people are the most important, the state is next, and the ruler is the least important."

The lecturer quoted Zhu Xi's collected commentaries and Cheng Yi's explanations, discussing the meaning of "noble" and "light," from the former kings to the Three Dynasties, and from the Three Dynasties to the ancestral precepts of this dynasty.

The whole process took about half an hour. Some of the ministers attending the ceremony listened attentively, while others were distracted, but in any case, they all stood ramrod straight.

He noticed this problem last time he talked about it.

These lecturers kept venturing into the ancients, talking about "the people are the most important" without explaining which people or why they are so important. Instead, they talked about how Mencius said it, how Zhu Xi commented on it, and how Cheng Yi interpreted it.

With three layers of annotations, the original words, so full of flesh and blood, were completely crushed into powder.

The hall was filled with people in formal attire, and they were talking about the dead; no one mentioned the living.

This is called "implementing documents with documents and implementing meetings with meetings".

However, there's no rush. This is the first lecture, so we need to make sure Emperor Taichang understands it first, and then we can put the others aside.

The speaker finished speaking and bowed.

Emperor Taichang nodded, "Well said."

According to the rules, the book should be closed, a bow performed, and a meal served, and then the lecture would be considered complete.

"Sir, there's something I don't quite understand."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

It wasn't considered outrageous for the Crown Prince to ask questions during the imperial lectures; after all, he was a student, and it's natural for him to ask questions when he didn't understand.

Most of the people present were seeing the Crown Prince speak at the lecture for the first time, and their eyes all turned to him.

The lecturer bowed and said, "Your Highness, please begin."

"Just now, you talked about 'the people are the most important,' quoting Zhu Xi's commentary and Cheng Yi's explanation. I listened to it, but there is one point I don't understand."

Zhu Youxiao paused, his face serious.

"Does this 'people' refer only to farmers, or does it also include soldiers who fight in wars?"

"Soldiers are also civilians. In ancient times, soldiers and farmers were one and the same, which goes without saying."

"So the soldiers in Liaodong are civilians too?"

The speaker opened his mouth slightly.

There's nothing wrong with that statement, but it takes a turn when you go to Liaodong.

He was about to add, "Your Highness is right," to smooth things over, when Zhu Youxiao had already turned his head.

They weren't looking at the lecturer, but at Emperor Taichang.

"Father, I am dull-witted. If I may not be ashamed to say this, I have not memorized many sentences from the annotations I have studied in the past half hour."

He looked a little embarrassed.

"I did remember the phrase 'the people are the most important.' But which 'people' and which 'most important' are they? They were never mentioned in class."

Zhu Youxiao lowered his head and fiddled with his cuffs, as if he hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"We've been fighting in Liaodong for years, and I can't even tell whether Shenyang is north or south of Liaoyang. I don't know if the soldiers in Liaodong are well-fed, or how far they are from the nearest city. In class, we talk for ages about the people being the most important, but what's really going on with those people? It's not mentioned in class, how am I supposed to know?"

No one made a sound in the hall.

A young official in the second row of the attendants lowered his head, probably wondering whether the words were spoken casually or prepared in advance.

Liu Yiju's gaze shifted from the Crown Prince to Emperor Taichang's face, and then back again.

Han Kuang didn't move; he stood there as if rooted to the spot.

Emperor Taichang glanced at the Crown Prince, then swept his gaze over the assembled ministers, but did not rush to express his opinion.

The topic of discussing current affairs at state lectures is not off-limits, but once it's started, it's hard to stop.

In the thirtieth year of the Wanli Emperor's reign, Shen Li lectured on the Great Learning at the Imperial Lectures. As he spoke, he veered into the topic of mining taxes, bringing up a series of impeachments. The Wanli Emperor was furious, and the Imperial Lectures were suspended for three months.

Emperor Taichang endured thirty years of hardship in the Eastern Palace; he knew all too well about such matters.

"Well..." Emperor Taichang hesitated for a moment, "There are established rules for imperial lectures."

Zhu Youxiao did not pursue this statement.

He lowered his head and muttered, "Your subject was just asking casually."

The leader said "there is precedent," which is the same approach as last time when he said "let me think about it," because he found it troublesome.

The worst thing you can do when doing ideological work is to rush things. If you keep saying "This is really important," it's guaranteed to fail. That's how we got the drug testing system implemented last time.

Emperor Taichang's lips twitched slightly as he watched him "retreat after asking the question."

Despite the hesitation, there's some truth to what they're saying.

The court officials argued about Liaodong every day in the warm pavilion, but treated Liaodong as a forbidden zone during the lectures.

The lecturer spent a long time emphasizing "the people are the most important," but he didn't mention a single word about what happened to the people of Liaodong.

If the Crown Prince hadn't asked, fine, but now that he has, he can't just pretend he didn't hear it.

Emperor Taichang rubbed his knees, leaned back in his chair, as if he had made a decision.

"Talking about current affairs is fine too."

He spoke in a low voice, pausing for a moment before continuing with the second half of the sentence.

"However, there is one rule: stick to the facts and do not use this as an excuse to impeach anyone. Anyone who turns the lectures into a place for insults should not come again."

The lecturer hurriedly responded, "Your subject will respectfully obey Your Majesty's decree."

The twenty or thirty people in the hall listened quietly to the imperial edict; no one dared to speak, nor did anyone dare to disobey.

A single imperial edict can only be issued to the cabinet and the six ministries.

The Imperial Lectures were the emperor's classrooms, and no one could interfere if the emperor wanted to add a course.

But this imperial edict revealed something significant.

From today onwards, we can discuss current affairs at the lectures.

To talk about current affairs is to talk about Liaodong; to talk about Liaodong is to talk about the military; to talk about the military is to talk about money; and to talk about money is to talk about those figures that don't match up in the textbook.

As a student, it was only natural for the Crown Prince to ask questions when he didn't understand something.

Asking what happened in Liaodong is considered studious, as is asking where the money went.

Who doesn't like a studious student?

From the testing of medicines to the imperial lectures, two imperial edicts were issued within ten days. One edict concerned the emperor's medication, and the other concerned the crown prince's studies. These were matters concerning the emperor's own affairs, and no one else could interfere.

With the two imperial edicts combined, an additional checkpoint was added at the entrance of the Imperial Pharmacy, and an additional window was added to the Imperial Lecture Hall.

Zhu Youxiao lowered his head, his expression respectful.

Fang Congzhe stood in his seat, his fingers inside his sleeve, and he rubbed his fingertips together silently.

The rule of "discussing matters as they are and not impeaching" effectively silenced Yang Lian and his group, allowing them to discuss matters but not criticize others during the lectures, which actually made things easier for the cabinet.

What made him think even more deeply was the way the Crown Prince asked the question.

Instead of directly telling the lecturer to "add content about Liaodong," the prince first asked an academic question: are soldiers civilians? The lecturer himself opened the door, and the prince then followed up by leading the discussion to Liaodong.

The lecturer spent half an hour lecturing on the commentary, but no one listened. The crown prince then steered the conversation to the point.

The last "notification document" was rather rough; it was clearly written on the spot.

This time it seems like they thought about how to ask beforehand.

Fang Congzhe glanced at the back of the prince's head, then subtly looked away.

The crown prince being fifteen years old—perhaps it was just a coincidence.

Let's put it aside for now; it's not enough to make a judgment.

…………

After leaving the Wenhua Hall, Zhu Youxiao mingled with the crowd and walked out.

Wang An followed behind, and only approached after the crowd had dispersed somewhat.

"His Majesty did not respond to what Your Highness said at the lecture today."

"Um."

"Why did you agree later?"

"I think it makes sense," Zhu Youxiao said without turning his head. "What does Daban think?"

Wang An thought for a moment and said, "This old servant thinks that Your Highness's comment of 'just a casual question' is brilliant."

"What's so clever about it?"

"If we don't pressure him, His Majesty won't feel pressured. If he doesn't feel pressured, he'll make decisions as if they were his own."

Zhu Youxiao smiled but didn't respond.

Wang An was a man who couldn't tell he was holding a knife, but he was quite accurate at observing other people's knife skills.

He hadn't been a mere scribe in the Directorate of Ceremonial for twenty-six years for nothing; he had seen ten times more upward management than Zhu Youxiao, but he simply didn't know how to use it.

"Daban, you should come to the next lecture as well."

"Old servant? There's no seat for this old servant at the lecture."

"Just wait at the palace gate. After you leave, tell me who you saw, what they said, and who was standing with whom."

Wang An responded without asking any further questions.

He was good at this job. For twenty-six years, he had been a chief eunuch, and judging people's positions was his livelihood.

…………

Five days later, the second scripture lecture was held.

Zhu Youxiao was busy for the past five days.

He read the Liaodong military report forwarded by the Ministry of War three times, and the figures in it didn't quite match what the ministers in the warm pavilion were saying.

The Ministry of Revenue said how much silver was allocated, while the Military Commissioner's Office said how much silver was collected; the two figures differed considerably.

Don't rush the numbers; let's make use of the lecture hall first.

Once the door was opened, the speakers took turns filling in the gaps in the situation in Liaodong.

Most of what they said was similar to what they were arguing about in the warm room.

The Donglin faction advocated for a change of leadership, while the Zhejiang faction spoke up for Xiong Tingbi. They simply reiterated things that could be said by flipping through the official gazette at the imperial lecture, using the opportunity of speaking before the emperor to further undermine their own position.

The entire hall was filled with noise about personnel matters; no one cared about how the soldiers fought or how the supplies were transported.

Meetings are like this too. They argue all afternoon about who should report and who should check, but no one mentions how to actually do the work.

It was Sun Chengzong's turn.

He stood up and saluted, without mentioning changing the commander or protecting Xiong, and started by talking about geography.

"The Liaodong Military Governor's Office was located in Liaoyang. Liaoyang was situated in the heart of Liaodong, 120 li north of Shenyang, bordering Fushun to the east and controlling Guangning to the west. The grain transport route entered Jinzhou from Shanhaiguan, passed through Guangning, and reached Liaoyang, a journey of nearly 1,000 li."

The expressions on the faces of most people in the hall changed.

A lecturer who was lecturing on the Four Books started talking about the route of grain transport, which was not his usual approach.

No one interrupted him. The emperor said to "discuss the matter at hand," and geography was certainly a valid point.

Sun Chengzong spoke for a quarter of an hour.

From the supply lines to the distribution of troops, and from the distribution to the defensive depth of the castles along the way, it was all explained in great detail which sections of the road had fortifications and which were open fields.

It didn't feel like a lecture; it felt more like a sand table exercise for a room full of advisors.

This kind of thing can't be found by looking up the official gazette.

You have to have actually been to the border, and sat with the veterans at the foot of the city wall, calculating from one fort to another, before you can say that.

Zhu Youxiao sat beside him listening, his hands resting on his knees without moving.

When this person was giving a lecture before leaving the palace, he glanced out the window while talking about "governing the country," and he made a note of it.

Today I finally understand what's on his mind when he looks outwards.

It's not about doctrines or personnel matters, but about how many soldiers are on each section of the long-distance grain transport route and how many days they can hold out.

Other speakers talking about Liaodong discussed who should be responsible and who should be replaced, and they could talk a good game no matter which side they were on.

This person has twenty years of hard work hidden beneath their words.

Of the ministers attending the ceremony, about half were listening attentively, while the other half looked listless, probably pondering the dishes to be served.

Sun Chengzong paused after finishing a section of his speech.

Zhu Youxiao spoke.

"Sir, I have a question."

His voice was as usual, neither too loud nor too soft, in the tone of a student asking a teacher for advice.

"Shenyang is only 120 li from Liaoyang. Are there any natural barriers in between that could offer some protection?"

He paused for a moment.

"If Shenyang falls, can Liaoyang be defended?"

The hall fell silent.

The quiet period lasted longer than any of the previous ones.

Twenty or thirty people stood there, but not a single one spoke; there wasn't even the sound of someone rolling up their sleeves.

The court had been discussing Liaodong for over a year, with factional strife, changes in leadership, and endless arguments over funding.

No one has ever asked such a question at a religious lecture.

This is not a personnel issue of "who should be replaced", but a tactical deduction of "what to do if the city is lost".

It has nothing to do with scriptural doctrines, nor with factional strife.

The high-ranking officials in the Ministry of War probably hadn't thought about this issue, and they wouldn't mention it in their memorials to change commanders, because mentioning it would be tantamount to admitting that there were fundamental flaws in the defense deployment, and whoever brought it up would be held responsible.

A fifteen-year-old prince, sitting on a low stool at the lecture hall, threw this question, which no one dared to ask, into the very center of the Wenhua Hall in the tone of someone asking about their studies.

Sun Chengzong looked at the Crown Prince.

His gaze paused for a moment, becoming much more subdued than when he was explaining geography.

For fifty-seven years, the way the imperial court discussed Liaodong has always been who should leave and who should stay.

No one asked him whether the flat land between Shenyang and Liaoyang could actually stop the cavalry.

He had been calculating this for nearly twenty years, and no one had ever asked him about it in public.

Today, a fifteen-year-old prince asked a question.

"Your Highness has a good question."

Sun Chengzong lowered his voice slightly, his tone different from when he was talking about the grain transport route.

"The terrain between Shenyang and Liaoyang is flat and open, with no natural defenses. If Shenyang falls, Liaoyang will become an isolated city."

Sun Chengzong paused.

"This is something I have been worrying about for a long time."

The phrase "long-standing concerns" carries significant weight.

This wasn't just polite talk or a perfunctory response to the Crown Prince's question. It was something someone had spent twenty years sitting on the cold bench in the Hanlin Academy, calculating and recalculating on their own, that was finally being asked by the Emperor.

Zhu Youxiao said "Oh" and didn't pursue the topic any further.

After saying "Oh," he put it away neatly, as if it were just a casual question.

Fang Congzhe, standing in the first row of attendants, didn't turn his head, but his eyes moved.

Fang Congzhe didn't care about Shenyang and Liaoyang.

The Ministry of War and the Military Commissioner's Office in Liaodong were bearing the brunt of the bad news. Throughout the 48th year of the Wanli reign, one bad news after another arrived, but none of them were borne by the Grand Secretary.

His concern was for the Crown Prince.

The first time the imperial lectures detoured to Liaodong, they inquired about the "natural barriers" and "depth of territory".

Inside the warm pavilion, the ministers argued about personnel matters, who should be replaced and who should be kept. No one ever discussed in front of the emperor whether there were any natural barriers between Shenyang and Liaoyang.

The test book contains figures for troop strength and provisions, but it won't tell you whether the area between the two cities is flat or mountainous.

This kind of problem is either something someone taught you, or something you figured out yourself after looking through a lot of things.

Fang Congzhe glanced at Sun Chengzong.

The things this lecturer talked about today—supply lines, troop strength, and strategic depth—couldn't be explained by flipping through several official gazettes.

The crown prince happened to ask a professional question immediately after he finished speaking.

Fang Congzhe clenched his fingers inside his sleeve, then released them.

Whether there is a connection between these two events, the Crown Prince was unsure what the lecturer would say.

It could also be a coincidence.

It's already quite impressive that a 15-year-old could bring "the people are the most important" to Liaodong. Isn't asking about the geographical depth of Shenyang and Liaoyang a bit too technical?

That's a bit too professional.

But that's not enough for him to make a judgment.

Fang Congzhe doesn't do things without evidence, so he'll hold back for now and wait for the third round.

If it happens a third time, it's not a coincidence; if it doesn't, then the matter is over.

He pulled his hand out of his sleeve and placed it on the armrest of the servant's seat, his expression exactly the same as at the beginning.

…………

The sermon ended, and the master of ceremonies announced the end of the ceremony.

The lecturers left the Wenhua Hall and went in twos and threes to the Zuoshun Gate to eat the complimentary meal.

Sun Chengzong did not go.

He went straight back to his duty room at the Hanlin Academy, closed the door, and sat in the chair without moving.

The window of the duty room faces south, and the afternoon sun shines through, illuminating the open copy of Mencius on the table.

"Shenyang is only 120 li away from Liaoyang."

He had pondered this question in his mind countless times.

In the 46th year of the Wanli reign, I followed Fang Shoushi to Datong and talked with veterans about the border until late at night.

The flat land between Shenyang and Liaoyang is a vast plain, and cavalry can reach it in half a day.

If the Later Jin were to press down from the north, and Shenyang couldn't hold out, Liaoyang would become the next Shenyang.

It's been almost twenty years.

The Ministry of War felt that the military commissioner could handle it, the cabinet thought Liaodong was a trap and didn't want to get involved, and the Six Ministries only cared about whose responsibility to pursue.

No one cared about that deadly flat land between Shenyang and Liaoyang.

Someone passing by the door peeked in and asked, "Chisato, aren't you going to eat your free meal?"

"You may go."

The footsteps of my colleagues faded into the distance.

Sun Chengzong sat in the duty room, closed the copy of "Mencius", and pushed it to the corner of the table.

No one has ever asked him this question.

Today, a fifteen-year-old prince asked a question.

Not only did they ask, but they also followed up with, "What if something happens in Shenyang, and there's not even time to evacuate?"

There are plenty of people who happen to be able to ask a good question.

It's rare to find someone who happens to be able to catch up to the second one.

Moreover, he noticed a detail.

After asking his question, the prince didn't pursue the matter further; he simply said "Oh" and closed the book.

If a fifteen-year-old happens to ask a good question, the normal reaction is to get excited, to keep asking, and to want to ask as many questions as possible.

But this one refuses.

Once you've asked all the questions, you stop immediately and decisively, as if you know that asking any further questions will lead you to something you shouldn't.

Sun Chengzong picked up the teacup on the table and took a sip; the tea had gone cold.

He put down his teacup, his fingers lingering on the rim for a moment.

At the next lecture, we can discuss the affairs of Liaodong in more detail.

It wasn't because the Crown Prince made him speak.

It's because after twenty years, someone is finally asking him the question he's always wanted to answer.

As for why this person would ask such a question, he's fifty-seven years old; he has a sense of right and wrong.

He didn't need to think too much about it; he just needed to confirm one thing: whether the person asking the question genuinely wanted the answer or was just using Liaodong as a pretext.

Looking into those eyes today, he felt it was the former.