Chapter Twenty The Truth

Chapter 20: The Truth

The importance of Yu Qian as a person is well-known, even to ordinary people in later generations. However, after spending a month or two in this era, Zhu Qizhen realized something: the personas of many historical figures, as passed down to posterity, often differ greatly from their true selves.

Even so, Zhu Qizhen included Yu Qian in his list of potential Grand Secretaries. Perhaps his services were not needed just yet, but in the future, when the Three Yangs grew old and needed successors, candidates would be chosen from this very list.

Of course, Li Shimian was also among them.

Yu Qian was born in the thirty-first year of Hongwu, passed the imperial examination in the nineteenth year of Yongle, and was now in his thirties—at the height of his vigor. He was already serving as a regional inspector.

Naturally, the role of inspector in this era was newly established and differed from that of later times. Inspectors then were more supervisory, dispatched from the Censorate rather than being local officials.

Even so, to be a provincial or ministerial-level official at the age of thirty-seven was remarkably young.

Zhu Qizhen had considered promoting Yu Qian, but upon reflection, decided against it. Sometimes, forcing things to develop too quickly does more harm than good. The Three Yangs were still trustworthy.

Whatever merits Yu Qian might achieve, it would be hard for them to be overlooked.

Moreover, the power Zhu Qizhen now wielded was, in truth, exercised in the name of the Grand Empress Dowager. He was keenly aware of this.

Thus, for Zhu Qizhen to promote Yu Qian on his own initiative might not actually be to Yu Qian’s benefit. It would be better to wait until the time came for him to rule in his own right.

Nonetheless, Zhu Qizhen paid particular attention to Yu Qian.

“Grandson,” the Grand Empress Dowager said, “today I have another case to discuss with you.”

Zhu Qizhen immediately came to himself and replied, “Please, Grandmother, tell me.”

The Grand Empress Dowager noticed that Zhu Qizhen’s mind had wandered, but did not press him. In her eyes, he was still a child, and there were many things even adults might not fully grasp.

She said to Wang Zhen, “Bring the file on Lü Zheng.”

Wang Zhen replied at once, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He soon returned, presenting a dossier—the case of Lü Zheng.

Zhu Qizhen first read the military department’s report, then Lü Zheng’s background, which revealed that he was the second generation of a meritorious family from the campaign of pacification, though his ancestors had achieved nothing of particular note.

Reading further, he learned that while Lü Zheng was serving as assistant commander in Shanxi, a dozen or so Tartar riders surrendered. Lü Zheng killed them, claiming military merit.

Upon review by the Ministry of War, it was determined to be a case of killing captives, for among the severed heads was that of a woman.

Zhu Qizhen read the testimonies and descriptions of physical evidence. Of the more than ten heads Lü Zheng reported, seven were described in detail as being those of women.

Though Zhu Qizhen could not grasp all the nuances, the evidence appeared irrefutable.

The Grand Empress Dowager asked, “Have you finished reading?”

“I have,” Zhu Qizhen replied.

“And what do you make of it?”

He thought for a moment and said, “Lü Zheng does not seem to be innocent. Even if he did not kill captives, he certainly exaggerated his achievements.”

The Grand Empress Dowager shook her head. “Is that all you see?”

Zhu Qizhen was momentarily puzzled.

She continued, “People say the emperor handles countless affairs and perceives all with clarity. But only the Grand Ancestor ever truly managed everything personally. After him, no one could do so.”

“Matters must be delegated to ministers.”

“There is a limit to what the emperor can handle each day. So why would I ask you to review a case involving a mere assistant commander and a dozen severed heads claimed as merit?”

“Such matters have established procedures. Why would I single this one out for you?”

“And in the future, you must consider: why do subordinates bring certain matters to you in particular?”

Zhu Qizhen pondered. The rank of assistant commander was neither insignificant nor especially high. But as the Grand Empress Dowager pointed out, the cabinet already had Zhang Fu, the Three Yangs, and Hu Ying—all veteran ministers. Cases like this had long-established precedents.

Why, then, was it brought forward so conspicuously?

Was there disagreement among them?

He leafed through the dossier again. The Ministry of War had initiated the case.

The regional forces, in theory, fell under the jurisdiction of the Five Armies Command, though the Ministry of War had been steadily encroaching on their authority.

For instance, this current campaign to reorganize local forces was being led by the Ministry, with the Five Armies Command and the Censorate cooperating.

The Five Armies Command, under pressure from the Ministry of War, was gradually being reduced to a sinecure.

Was this a conflict of authority between the Ministry of War and the Five Armies Command?

Or was it that Lü Zheng, being a descendant of a campaign hero, had a powerful patron—likely Zhang Fu?

The Ministry of War had already arrested Lü Zheng, perhaps too harshly for Zhang Fu’s liking.

Having considered all this, Zhu Qizhen shared his thoughts with the Grand Empress Dowager.

She neither affirmed nor denied his reasoning. Instead, she said, “When a case like this is brought to you, there are three layers of truth you must discern. The first is the truth of the case itself. The second is why the case was submitted to you. The third is the truth you, yourself, seek.”

“This matter—you must investigate on your own.”

“How should I proceed?” Zhu Qizhen asked.

“The commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Shen, is also a descendant of the pacification campaign. But he is not suited for such delicate work, so I have transferred him to the Five Armies Command. You should appoint someone else as commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”

“What about Shi Jing?” Zhu Qizhen suggested.

The Grand Empress Dowager shook her head. “Shi Jing is a fine young man. Though our dynasty has no explicit restriction on imperial sons-in-law, precedent is precedent. If you wish to promote him, let him command troops in the field someday. But do not give him the Embroidered Uniform Guard; he is no match for those old foxes.”

“It would only harm him.”

Zhu Qizhen understood. If the Guard did nothing, all would be well. But once it took action, the commander’s fate was rarely good. And a commander who did nothing was useless.

Shi Jing, according to Wang Zhen’s reports, was a valiant warrior, trained from youth for over a decade, and also literate. While not a prodigy in both civil and military arts, he was certainly fit to lead troops.

Whether he could ever become a great general was uncertain, but as a company commander or even a commander of the guards, he was more than adequate.

He was simply still young and needed tempering.

“I understand,” Zhu Qizhen said. Noting the Grand Empress Dowager’s silence, he asked, “Grandmother, shouldn’t we discuss the Oirat matter?”

She frowned and glanced at Wang Zhen, who immediately felt a chill run through his body.

The Grand Empress Dowager said, “Grandson, there are things I should perhaps not say, but I must warn you. The Taizong Emperor campaigned north five times to pacify the Mongols, but what was the result?”

“The empire’s treasuries were emptied, the people exhausted by transport duties. The people already suffered enough, yet an unprovoked campaign was launched to seize barren land. When the leader died, the policy died with him. On the steppe, powers rise and fall without end.”

“Taizong was wise in all things, except in this one grave error.”

“Wang Zhen and the others spend their days in the palace, admiring the glory of the army, but have no idea of the people’s suffering. Now, with your father newly gone, and hidden dangers everywhere, I have reorganized the Five Armies Command and bestowed rewards three times in two months. Do you know why?”

“I cannot control what happens in the future. But while I am here, not a word is to be said of the steppe.”

Zhu Qizhen hastened to reply, “Do not be angry, Grandmother. I know my limits. I will never entertain such reckless ambitions. But as the northern nomads are our dynasty’s hereditary foes, how could I ignore them? I simply wish to understand the situation.”

Hearing this, the Grand Empress Dowager’s expression softened slightly. “Didn’t I just give you the Embroidered Uniform Guard? Investigate for yourself.”

She was both patient and somewhat helpless. Her grandson appeared obedient in all things, but was in fact quite independent-minded. Sometimes, she wondered just where he might lead the Ming Dynasty.

For an emperor, lack of intelligence was certainly a problem, but too much intelligence could be troubling as well.

It is often the clever who make the gravest errors.

As the saying goes, “He whose intellect is sufficient to reject honest advice, and whose words suffice to cover up faults”—such people are the most dangerous.

Thus, this conversation ended. Zhu Qizhen did not mention the Oirat matter again. After lunch at Cining Palace, he spent the afternoon there, returning to Qianqing Palace only as dusk fell.

Lying alone beneath his brocade quilt, Zhu Qizhen fell deep into thought.