The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the Carpenter Prince!

Warm room.

After Emperor Taichang finished flipping through a memorial, he casually asked a question.

"What was the name of the lecturer who spoke about Liaodong at the imperial lectures?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, this is Sun Chengzong, the Left Vice-Minister of the Left Spring Palace."

"Hmm." Emperor Taichang rubbed his temples. "This man is too honest; he tells everyone everything. Last time at the lecture, he directly told the ministers that the Ministry of War's figures were inaccurate, and the ministers below all turned pale."

Zhu Youxiao paused for a moment as he flipped through the question book.

Too honest.

They tell everyone everything.

Emperor Taichang's comment was just a casual remark; he probably just thought the lecturer was a bit clueless and didn't quite understand the ways of officialdom.

But those words struck Zhu Youxiao like a bolt of lightning, making him shudder.

She's too honest; she tells everyone everything.

This is Sun Chengzong.

If you sense something is wrong, go and confirm it with "the people who should know," without hiding anything, without looking back or being indecisive.

People who plot conspiracies are not like that.

Those who plot will remain inactive, secretly gathering evidence, and then wait for the right opportunity to strike a fatal blow.

Sun Chengzong did not.

When he discovered that the Crown Prince had said something he shouldn't have known, his first reaction was to go and ask the Grand Secretary.

It wasn't about informing, it was about being worried.

There are concerns that someone is exploiting a fifteen-year-old prince.

Zhu Youxiao slowly exhaled, and the feeling that had been weighing on his heart for three days seemed to ease a little.

The answer he couldn't come up with after three days of thinking was solved by a casual remark from his father.

Then the path ahead becomes clear.

bet.

Winning means an extra life, losing means losing everything.

…………

Three days later, the lecture was held in the Wenhua Hall.

The special lecture on the situation in Liaodong, arranged by Fang Congzhe, was held as scheduled.

Sun Chengzong stood on the podium and spoke only about publicly available data and information that could be found in the Ministry of War's official documents, without omitting any private information.

The crown prince sat upright, head bowed, taking notes, without asking a single question.

Fang Congzhe sat motionless in the front row and listened to the whole thing, but he didn't catch anything.

He cast his line empty-handed for the first time in seven years as prime minister.

The lecture has ended.

…………

Zhu Youxiao did not return to the Eastern Palace.

He sent Wang An to the Hanlin Academy to deliver a message, asking Sun Shuzi to come to the side hall of the Wenhua Hall, "The Crown Prince has a few questions he would like to ask about the classics lectures."

It's perfectly normal to seek advice from the lecturer after a lecture.

But when Zhu Youxiao was sitting in the side hall waiting for someone, his palms were sweaty.

What he needed to do next was not to ask questions about the imperial lectures.

It's a showdown.

If Sun Chengzong were one of our own, we would have one more ally today.

If not, all our cards are gone, and there's no chance of turning the tide.

He sat in the chair for a while, stood up and took a few steps, then sat down again, like an ant on a hot pan.

A fifteen-year-old's body is far more honest than a thirty-year-old's soul; the sweat on the back of his neck has already cooled, and his fingers unconsciously clench his sleeves.

Of all the days I've been through, none have felt more intense than this.

He wasn't tense when he was managing the market, he felt frustrated but not tense when Fang Congzhe held him back, and he was anxious but not tense when he saw the 670,000 tael hole in the exam paper.

The crucial point is that the next step is too weighty; once it's taken, there's no going back.

He took a deep breath, straightened his cuffs, and sat up straight.

The door opened.

Sun Chengzong has arrived.

The fifty-seven-year-old lecturer stood upright, his face bearing the wrinkles left by the wind and sun on the border of Datong, unlike those raised in the Hanlin Academy.

Holding a copy of the Liaodong map, he assumed the Crown Prince wanted to inquire about the grain transport route.

There were only the two of them in the side hall.

Wang An stood guard outside the door, and then the door was closed.

Zhu Youxiao did not exchange pleasantries.

"Sir, a few days ago you went to see Grand Secretary Fang and asked him a question."

Sun Chengzong almost dropped the map in his hand.

"Your Highness..."

"The question the gentleman asked was, 'Does His Highness the Crown Prince have someone teaching him military affairs in Liaodong?'"

Zhu Youxiao's tone was very flat, almost abnormally so.

"You know how Grand Secretary Fang answered. But you probably don't know what happened after you went to ask."

"The day after the gentleman left, Grand Secretary Fang entered the warm pavilion and suggested that His Majesty temporarily suspend the investigation into the Liaodong military expenditure. His Majesty agreed."

Zhu Youxiao's voice was flat, as if he were reading from a test book.

"The authority I originally sought to oversee the investigation of the Liaodong military expenditure has been reduced to mere viewing rights. I can see it, but I can't take action. The hole in the Liaodong military expenditure is there, and I can only watch helplessly as it remains unfilled."

"The special lecture on Liaodong at the Imperial Lectures was also arranged by Grand Secretary Fang. The gentleman thought that the Grand Secretary was kindly promoting him, but in fact he was fishing for information. He compared what the gentleman said at the Imperial Lectures with the questions I had asked him before."

Sun Chengzong's face turned white little by little, even faster than his hair.

The side hall remained quiet for a while.

Then Sun Chengzong did something that Zhu Youxiao had not fully anticipated.

He placed the map on the table, stood up, and bowed deeply.

It was not a routine greeting at the Buddhist symposium.

It was a deep, slow, apologetic kind of bow; it took several breaths before he straightened up.

"Your Majesty, I have not considered this thoroughly."

His voice was slightly lower than it had been during the lectures, and carried a hint of sullenness.

"Your Highness mentioned the tactical value of the Hunhe River crossing during the lecture. Having served in the border region of Datong, I know that this is not something someone who has never been to Liaodong could say."

"I was worried that someone was using Your Highness. So I went to ask Grand Secretary Fang."

He paused for a moment.

"I did not expect it to lead to the events that followed."

Zhu Youxiao looked at him.

He's fifty-seven years old, and he's spent most of his life pondering Liaodong, exhausting himself with painstaking efforts.

When he was in his twenties, he went to Datong to teach and drank with veterans from the border to discuss military affairs. When he returned to the capital in his thirties to become a Hanlin scholar, he sat on the sidelines for sixteen years. No one in the court listened to him talk about Liaodong. His memorials were submitted to the emperor but disappeared without a trace. When he said at the imperial lecture that "the Ministry of War's figures are inaccurate," all the ministers below changed their expressions and fell into a polite silence.

Finally, when a prince pressed him on Liaodong during a lecture, asking pointed and incisive questions, he had a fleeting thought: "Finally, someone is willing to listen."

Then they discovered that the crown prince had said things he shouldn't have known.

My first reaction wasn't smugness, nor was it thinking, "The crown prince has powerful backers; I can use them."

It's not about waiting and seeing, it's not about "let's see first and then decide".

He went straight to the Grand Secretary to confirm, "Is someone instructing the Crown Prince on military affairs in Liaodong?"

Because what he was worried about was not his own future, but the safety of the crown prince.

You couldn't find another person like that anywhere in the world.

"Sir, you were right to ask."

Sun Chengzong raised his head.

"If you are the kind of person who keeps things to yourself, I wouldn't dare to seek you out."

"What I need is not someone who will keep my secrets. What I need is someone who will speak up when something is wrong."

Sun Chengzong stood there, motionless.

Her fingertips trembled slightly before she quickly gripped the cuff.

Sixteen years on the sidelines.

For sixteen years, the tea in the Hanlin Academy's duty room went cold and was replaced repeatedly; the drawers were filled with memorials that went unnoticed; and when he spoke of Liaodong at the imperial lectures until his voice was hoarse, the people below wondered if there would be any good food or wine to offer.

No one in the court ever told him, "It was right for you to ask."

They all said, "What Sun Shuzi said is very true," followed by "however," which is ten times stronger than "very true."

"However, the imperial court has its own strategies."

"However, this matter involves a wide range of issues."

"However, Sun Shuzi is unfamiliar with officialdom."

However, however, however, a single "however" pushed his sixteen years of research on Liaodong into the wastebasket.

Now, a fifteen-year-old prince, upon learning of his mistake, said to him, "It was right for you to ask the master."

It's not "let's let it go this time".

It's not "be careful next time".

It's right that you asked.

Your instinctive reaction was correct; you did what an upright person should do.

Sun Chengzong felt a lump in his throat; at fifty-seven years old, he almost couldn't hold back his tears.

The hand gripping the cuff tightened.

"Your Highness..."

"Sir, please don't stand," Zhu Youxiao said, gesturing to the chair beside him. "Sit down and let's talk."

…………

The two sat down and talked for almost half an hour.

Zhu Youxiao revealed half of his hand.

He was investigating a deficit of 670,000 taels in the Liaodong military levy. Fang Congzhe suggested postponing the investigation, and Emperor Taichang agreed. The problems in Liaodong wouldn't disappear just because the investigation wasn't carried out.

"Sir, how many of those people in the imperial court truly understand the situation in Liaodong?"

"Does Your Highness want to hear the truth?"

"Why would I need to lie to you, sir?"

"The officials in the Ministry of War are knowledgeable in administration but not in military affairs; the people in the Military Commissioner's Office are knowledgeable in the battlefield but not in the court; and most of the lecturers at the Imperial Lectures have only read the official gazettes but have never seen the local customs of the border regions."

"And what about the gentleman?"

"I have inspected the soil and read through the official gazette for twenty years. There are not many people in the court who have done both."

When Sun Chengzong talks about Liaodong, he always speaks faster and his fingers unconsciously draw maps on the table.

"I know why the numbers don't match, and I know who will die because of it."

Zhu Youxiao nodded.

"Sir, please help me. I can't investigate the Liaodong military expenditure alone, and I can't come up with a plan for Liaodong on my own. Will you help me?"

Sun Chengzong looked at him.

He remained silent for a moment, something churning in his eyes.

"I have one condition."

"The gentleman said..."

"I help Your Highness not because Your Highness is the Crown Prince, but because what Your Highness is doing is right. If one day Your Highness's plan has any military flaws, I will point them out to your face."

Zhu Youxiao smiled, the first time he had smiled so relaxedly since he came here, his shoulders even slumped a little.

"If you don't say it to my face, why would I come to you? There are plenty of officials who would say 'Your Highness is wise,' I don't need that kind of people."

…………

The atmosphere relaxed, and the two chatted like colleagues who had known each other for many years, refilling their teacups as they went cold.

"The calls for a change of leadership in Liaodong are growing louder, and Donglin keeps pushing it. What's your opinion, sir?"

Sun Chengzong frowned.

"Xiong Jinglue has his shortcomings, but changing commanders now is extremely risky. Since taking office last year, he has executed deserters, repaired castles, rectified military discipline, and stabilized the rear. Nurhaci has remained inactive so far. Isn't holding on a meritorious act?"

"That's what I think too." Zhu Youxiao nodded. "Then how do you suggest we tell Father Emperor?"

"Your Highness cannot speak plainly."

"Um?"

"The moment Your Highness spoke up to protect Xiong, Grand Secretary Fang immediately knew that Your Highness was interfering in military affairs. Your Highness is not yet qualified to handle this matter."

Zhu Youxiao pondered for a moment.

"Then let's not say it directly. Let Father Emperor figure it out himself."

"How can I give it to them?"

"Silly question." Zhu Youxiao scratched his head, feigning ignorance.

"I told Father that I don't understand military matters, but I find it strange that after winning a battle, why replace the commander?"

He paused for a moment.

"This question may be silly, but Father Emperor has to think about it himself. Once he understands it, it will be more effective than me telling him a hundred times."

Sun Chengzong glanced at him.

At fifteen, he pretended to be stupid all the way to the Grand Secretary without being exposed.

This isn't cleverness; it's the result of years of hard work and dedication.

He suddenly realized that the carpenter prince who was "unversed in the classics" that he had seen at the imperial lectures before did not match the person in front of him.

If it doesn't match, it's correct; if it does match, something's fishy.

"Sir, you should go back and rest early."

"Your Highness should also rest early."

"Sir, you should go home and rest early. We can talk again another day."

Sun Chengzong bowed, got up and walked out.

When I reached the entrance of the side hall, I involuntarily stopped.

I glanced back.

The crown prince had already lowered his head to flip through the exam questions, and hadn't even touched the teacup beside him, which had gone cold.

Fifteen.

Sun Chengzong turned and walked out.

…………

Duty officer at the Hanlin Academy.

Sun Chengzong sat in the chair he had been sitting in for sixteen years.

On the table lay a copy of the Liaodong map, its edges curled, its paper yellowed, and the pages detailing the grain transport routes almost worn through.

He stared at the map for a long time, but he didn't actually understand anything.

The duty room was quiet; my colleagues next door had already finished their shifts, and there wasn't even a sound of footsteps in the corridor.

Sixteen years have passed, and he has sat in this duty room for sixteen years. The tea leaves are placed in the second drawer on the left. The inkstone has worn a shallow dent, and two layers of paint have peeled off the chair legs, revealing the original wood underneath.

No one had ever come to this duty room specifically to talk to him about Liaodong.

Today I have it.

And that person was fifteen years old.

The Crown Prince's words kept replaying in my mind.

"If you are the kind of person who keeps things to yourself, I wouldn't dare to seek you out."

In my early twenties, I was teaching in the border region of Datong. I drank with veterans until midnight, listening to them talk about how hard the soil in Liaodong was and how hard it was to hold a knife in winter. I thought to myself, "When I return to the capital, I must write these things down for the court to see."

I returned to Beijing in my thirties, wrote and submitted my work, but no one read it.

He's still writing and submitting articles in his forties, but nobody reads them.

In his early fifties, he finally rose to the position of Left Vice Minister, and at the Imperial Lectures, he had the opportunity to speak about Liaodong. The ministers below listened indifferently, saying, "What Vice Minister Sun said is quite right, but..."

In just over thirty years, that single "just over" is sharper than a knife.

The Crown Prince's words, "I don't lack that kind of person," just now made his heart ache.

He recalled his time in Datong when he was in his twenties, chatting all night with old border soldiers by a charcoal fire in the winter. At that time, he felt that as long as he wrote down the truth, the imperial court would definitely pay attention.

Later, it was discovered that the imperial court didn't neglect it; it was just that nobody paid attention to it.

Even those who read it didn't believe it; they thought a scholar who had never been to Liaodong was just spouting nonsense on paper.

He had been to Liaodong. He had stood on the city wall with the veterans, where the winter wind felt like knives cutting their faces, and their hands were so frozen they couldn't hold a pen.

The things I wrote in those years, every line of them carried the earthy smell of the frontier, and they seemed out of place among the piles of books in the Hanlin Academy.

Even those who believed remained unmoved.

Even if you've made it, you can't continue.

Now someone says: Help me do it.

And he knows you've made mistakes, yet he chooses to believe you.

Sun Chengzong rolled up the map and put it back in the drawer.

The wick dimmed, but he didn't turn it.

After sitting for a while, he pulled out an old booklet from the bottom of the drawer. It was his Liaodong Notes written over the years, and the cover was worn out from repeated use.

Turning to the last blank page, I picked up my pen, dipped it in ink, hesitated for a moment, and then wrote a line.

After finishing writing, I put down my pen and stared at it for a while.

Then he closed the booklet and put it back in the drawer.

The light in the duty room went out.

A drumbeat sounded from the end of the corridor; it was the third watch of the night.