Chapter 26: The Intention Behind Changing the Lecturer

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Desire to Replace the Lecturer

Night had already fallen, and lamps were being lit. Even in the Forbidden City, darkness had descended everywhere save for a few palace halls. Before Zhu Qizhen’s imperial desk, two rows of candles burned on either side, a multitude of tiny flames gathering together and casting an overwhelming glow. Though the main hall was tinged with a faint yellowish light, the visibility was still quite good.

Wang Zhen stood at Zhu Qizhen’s side, quietly grinding ink. Zhu Qizhen, with his wrist suspended, wrote large characters in a formal script. The final words: “Those who read this in the future will be moved by these writings.”

When he finished, Zhu Qizhen leaned back against his chair, handed the brush to Wang Zhen, and rubbed his wrist as he said, “Master Li is truly difficult to serve.”

Wang Zhen took the brush and set it upon the brush washer. He then brought over a cup of hot tea and replied, “Your Majesty is absolutely right. Scholar Li is rather ungrateful. You are the sovereign of ten thousand chariots, charged with overseeing the grand affairs of the realm. Is it really necessary for Your Majesty to read as if competing for the scholar’s exam? If you wish, I could speak to the Empress Dowager on your behalf and arrange a new lecturer for Your Majesty.”

Zhu Qizhen smiled slightly and did not say more. He understood well enough that Wang Zhen harbored resentment toward Li Shimian. However, Zhu Qizhen’s own opinion of Li Shimian was actually quite favorable, if perhaps a little severe.

But as a veteran student who had endured over a decade of schooling in modern times, Zhu Qizhen had encountered all manner of teachers. Whatever else might be said of Li Shimian, he was dedicated and upright, and not lacking in wisdom. His lessons were broad and deep; whenever Zhu Qizhen asked questions within the field of classics or history, Li Shimian never failed to answer. In a later era, he would have been regarded as a veritable academic prodigy.

Moreover, while Wang Zhen had never truly listened to Li Shimian’s lectures, Zhu Qizhen himself could feel that Li Shimian had already relaxed his demands. Otherwise, by the strictest standards, even a single volume of the Analects could take years to finish without repetition. Li Shimian likely realized that Zhu Qizhen would not follow the path of the civil service examinations, so he was lenient in many respects—as long as Zhu Qizhen could grasp the essence of the sages’ teachings, that would suffice.

Still, even with these relaxed standards, Zhu Qizhen had to memorize texts daily. If nothing else, when he read memorials from ministers in the future, he needed to understand the classical allusions; otherwise, he might misunderstand and make a fool of himself.

In truth, even most modern people with higher education would be little better than illiterates in the eyes of scholars from this era. One could not call oneself a learned person without reading the classics of the sages.

Zhu Qizhen also speculated in his heart that perhaps Li Shimian was so diligent because he wished for Zhu Qizhen to assume personal rule as soon as possible. From Li Shimian’s words, it was clear he was dissatisfied with the current political structure—whether it was the expanding power of the eunuchs or the rule of women. As a traditional scholar, Li Shimian could not approve.

Nevertheless, Li Shimian was not inflexible. He understood that Zhu Qizhen, given the current circumstances, could not yet bear the responsibilities of an emperor. Yet, having begun to teach him, and seeing Zhu Qizhen’s aptitude, he was naturally eager to accelerate the process—to train the emperor to shoulder great responsibilities and to end this abnormal structure of power as soon as possible.

Yet Zhu Qizhen himself could not deny a wish to change lecturers. It was not that Li Shimian was not good—rather, he was perhaps too good. Upright and single-minded, he sought to instill Confucian teachings into Zhu Qizhen’s heart, to set his mind aright as a ruler. But Zhu Qizhen did not believe that studying Confucianism was the most pressing task.

Over time, Zhu Qizhen had gradually adapted to this era. Wang Zhen was his attendant eunuch: all memorials and documents of the realm passed through him. Should Zhu Qizhen wish to read them, Wang Zhen would never conceal a thing. Previously, the Empress Dowager would select certain memorials and explain them to Zhu Qizhen. Now, however, things had changed. Zhu Qizhen would select topics of interest from among the memorials that Wang Zhen had sorted; if he did not understand something, he would consult the Empress Dowager.

This reversal greatly increased the time Zhu Qizhen spent on state affairs. He even began to discern the Empress Dowager’s boundaries. She did not object to his reading memorials, as long as he did not make any official comments on them. Most of the memorials presented to the cabinet were simply approved by default. Wang Zhen might offer the occasional critique, but the Empress Dowager would never permit Zhu Qizhen to handle state matters—he was only allowed to read.

But everyone has only so many hours in a day. The assignments Li Shimian set were heavy, especially the calligraphy practice—Zhu Qizhen wrote until his wrist ached every day. Yet there was no help for it; his handwriting was atrocious and beyond redemption. To remedy it, he could only practice more diligently and copy the classics repeatedly.

Zhu Qizhen did not think Li Shimian’s instruction unimportant, but he found the Ming Dynasty itself even more fascinating than Confucian learning or calligraphy. He longed to understand what the Ming Dynasty was truly like. That, after all, was the essence of being emperor.

So he needed more time—a need that clashed with Li Shimian’s assignments.

Wang Zhen, having served at Zhu Qizhen’s side for many years and being adept at reading people’s hearts, had already guessed much of Zhu Qizhen’s thinking, though the emperor said nothing.

After settling Zhu Qizhen for the night, Wang Zhen left the Palace of Heavenly Purity and summoned a young eunuch. The boy, no more than thirteen or fourteen, was quick-witted and sharp. “Godfather, you called for me?”

Wang Zhen’s face was clouded, the lantern light from afar casting shifting shadows across his features. He spoke in a low voice, “Tomorrow, go see Ma Shun. Tell him to keep a close watch on Li Shimian. Should there be even the slightest mistake, report it at once.”

The young eunuch grinned. “Godfather, why take such pains? The Embroidered Guard are experts at framing people. If there’s no mistake, just make one up.”

With a loud crack, Wang Zhen slapped him across the face, leaving a vivid red mark on the boy’s cheek. Wang Zhen rebuked him sharply, “What do you know? Li Shimian is, after all, His Majesty’s teacher, and the Empress Dowager has her eyes on him. How could such a thing be done?”

“Go at once.”

The young eunuch replied immediately, “Yes, Godfather! I’ll wait by the palace gates and deliver the message as soon as they open tomorrow.”

Wang Zhen waved him off.

In his heart, Wang Zhen sighed, This young master of ours is no easy one to handle. It struck him as odd—after all, the more astute the emperor, the harder things became for Wang Zhen. But he had watched Zhu Qizhen grow up, and had once witnessed the Emperor Taizong himself when he first entered the palace. Zhu Di was among the most difficult emperors to serve in the entire Ming Dynasty.

Having witnessed Taizong’s might, Wang Zhen believed that an emperor ought to resemble him: the sharper Zhu Qizhen became, the less his subordinates dared to deceive him. Strangely, Wang Zhen felt a kind of pride, as if his own son were coming into his own. Of course, he would never voice such a sentiment, only dare to indulge it in the stillness of night.

He soon turned his mind to removing Li Shimian. Wang Zhen knew well Li Shimian’s reputation. It would be difficult to catch him in any wrongdoing unless the Embroidered Guard fabricated evidence. But even without a real offense, it was not impossible to get rid of him.

He thought to himself: Li Shimian may have a grand reputation, but can the Hanlin Academy tolerate him monopolizing the lecturer’s post? I know all too well the petty ways of scholars. To be tutor to the emperor is an immense honor—could they really be content to let Li Shimian keep it to himself?

The Three Yangs are old now, perhaps past the age of contention. When the young master grows up and takes the reins, they will likely all retire. But do none of those below have ambitions?

Even if they have none, I will make sure they do.

Li Shimian, your days as lecturer will not last until next year. The hatred in Wang Zhen’s gaze was nearly tangible as he thought, I will not bear it if I let you escape unpunished for repeatedly humiliating me. When you are removed from your post, it will not be too late to see to you later.

It was not that Wang Zhen was unwilling to act decisively, but with the Empress Dowager still present, he dared not move openly. Nor was Li Shimian an ordinary man; his name was known throughout the realm. To strike at him now might bring disaster upon himself.

Yet the Empress Dowager would not be here forever, nor would she eternally keep watch over Li Shimian. When that time came, Wang Zhen would make his move.

He gazed up at the starry sky above, the ground awash in starlight. A faint smirk touched his lips, and then he melted into the darkness.