Chapter Fifty-One: Impeaching Cao Jixiang

Chapter Fifty-One: Impeachment of Cao Jixiang

For a moment, Zhu Qizhen could think of nothing in particular, so he casually asked, “Among all the guards, would you say your martial skills rank the highest?”

Shi Jing hurriedly shook his head and replied, “How dare I presume so much? Among all the guards, the most skilled in martial arts would be Captain Zhang.”

Some became guards due to connections, but not all. Many, perhaps, owed their positions to relationships, yet their martial prowess was still more than adequate.

After all, Zhang Fu would not have appointed guards in need of protection themselves.

As the saying goes, ‘poverty breeds scholars, wealth breeds warriors’—without a solid family background, one could hardly attain great martial skill. These sons of noble families, their fathers or grandfathers, had won the realm with sword and spear, following the Emperor Taizong.

Take, for instance, Fang Zheng, who now guards Datong—he is quite capable, and it’s said his son is also a formidable general.

If there is one man who earned his place as a guard with no backing, relying solely on his skills, it must be Zhang Dachuan.

Zhang Dachuan, who once faced ten men alone and took four heads, left these noble scions full of admiration.

With Zhang Dachuan’s abilities, he could be called a match for a hundred men. If equipped with fine armor and protected by elite bodyguards, he could charge through tens of thousands, slaying generals and seizing banners.

Compared to the martial skills Zhang Dachuan honed in battle, these sons of generals lagged behind.

But the future remains uncertain.

After all, Zhang Dachuan is now just over thirty—the prime of a man’s strength, skill, and experience.

Zhu Qizhen knew Zhang Dachuan had yet to report for duty, so he simply let Shi Jing act as instructor, handed him a small bow, and loosed a dozen arrows—just to get a feel for it, without much concern for accuracy.

He then attended his lessons at Wenhui Hall.

Today, Wang Zhi’s lecture was as engaging as ever, yet Zhu Qizhen’s mind wandered. The topic drifted to the distinction between Chinese and foreign peoples, and then to the wars between the Central Plains dynasties and the nomads.

Noticing this, Wang Zhi advised, “Your Majesty, please be at ease and await the news. Before long, there is sure to be a great victory at the front. The Oirat have routed Arutai and now aspire to unite the grasslands, which gives cause for concern. Yet our Great Ming, founded by the Hongwu and Yongle Emperors, commands armies of a million and garrisons nine borders—none can take us lightly. Your Majesty should focus on nurturing your virtue; after you come of age, there will be time enough for cares of state.”

To Wang Zhi’s eyes, Zhu Qizhen seemed overly anxious.

Zhu Qizhen managed a bitter smile but replied, “Master Wang, I understand.”

From the founding of the dynasty to the present, though there had been minor setbacks in campaigns against the Northern Yuan, overall, Ming had always held the upper hand.

Not only the Ming, but even the Oirat themselves did not underestimate Ming.

But Zhu Qizhen knew that, in history, he would bring about the calamity of Tumu Fortress.

Thus, his concern for the Oirat far surpassed that of others in his time.

In Wang Zhi’s view, it bordered on needless worrying.

Seeing Zhu Qizhen ill at ease, Wang Zhi ended the lesson early.

After class, Zhu Qizhen, still unsettled, said to Wang Zhen, “Inform Kunning Palace that I will take my midday meal at Cining Palace today, so my mother need not wait for me.”

Wang Zhen quickly agreed and sent a young eunuch to deliver the message.

Zhu Qizhen walked straight to Cining Palace, even forgoing the sedan chair.

The war in Datong had made Zhu Qizhen more vigilant, so now he walked whenever possible, refusing to ride. It was all to strengthen his body, so that when the day came to shoulder the affairs of the realm, his physical strength would suffice.

Zhu Qizhen walked for nearly half an hour before reaching Cining Palace.

Though his short legs played a part, the main reason was simply that the Forbidden City was vast.

Upon entering, he found the Grand Empress Dowager reading a memorial. Seeing him, she gave a slight nod and said, “Sit.”

Zhu Qizhen was often in her presence and required little formality, so he obediently sat beside her, his eyes glancing at the memorial in her hands.

The Grand Empress Dowager remarked, “If you want to read it, go ahead—it’s a complaint against you.” She handed it over.

Zhu Qizhen opened it to find an impeachment of Cao Jixiang, accusing him of seizing the wealth of the people, competing with them for profit, and conscripting forced labor, among other things. But Zhu Qizhen, no longer a novice, had read many memorials and knew how to find the key points.

He quickly located the crux: Mentougou.

All the accusations against Cao Jixiang revolved around the coal mines of Mentougou.

“I must protect Cao Jixiang,” was Zhu Qizhen’s first thought. This was his own initiative—he could not afford any mistakes.

He said, “Grandmother, please allow me to explain.”

The Grand Empress Dowager replied, “I’m listening. Tell me why you established the Coal Inspectorate at Mentougou.”

Zhu Qizhen answered, “For the palace’s expenses. Previously, we used firewood, but now with coal, palace costs are greatly reduced.”

She sighed softly, asking, “Is that all?”

Zhu Qizhen knew he could not keep everything from her and said, “I believe that since the people of Beijing all use coal, it has also become a considerable source of revenue.”

“Coal,” she said, “very well, call it that. If the officials inquire, just give them the former reason. The latter, keep to yourself—never speak it aloud.”

Relieved, Zhu Qizhen replied, “Thank you, Grandmother.” He now understood the weight of imperial words. Because he had casually called it coal, even official Ming documents would likely adopt the term.

“But do you think the accusations against Cao Jixiang are true?” she asked.

Zhu Qizhen read carefully and found it hard to judge.

She smiled, “Didn’t your Eastern Depot or Embroidered Uniform Guard report anything?”

Zhu Qizhen well knew that Cao Jixiang was Wang Zhen’s adopted son; Ma Shun was Wang Zhen’s man; Wang Zhen controlled the Eastern Depot. Naturally, nothing would be reported. Even if Cao Jixiang had committed these acts, Zhu Qizhen would not hear of them.

The Grand Empress Dowager said, “Emperor, do you know the saying: ‘He who listens to both sides will be enlightened; he who heeds only one side will be benighted’?”

“I do,” Zhu Qizhen replied.

“No, you do not. The precondition for enlightenment is that different voices actually reach your ears. Now consider—who do you hear? Only Wang Zhen.”

Zhu Qizhen immediately said, “I see my error.”

She continued, “Let me tell you—Little Cao is diligent in his work, but some things are inevitable. Think about it: Mentougou is only a few miles from Beijing. For a large enterprise there, could the local villagers truly control it? Without some forceful measures, Little Cao could never have established the Inspectorate.”

“Since it’s been set up, you can hardly expect people not to complain.”

Instantly, Zhu Qizhen understood and thought, “I was mistaken. I thought only I looked so far ahead, but clearly, I am not the only one.”

He had foreseen that Beijing’s firewood would not suffice and coal must be introduced. But others could see it too.

Experience teaches that wherever there is profit, there will be fierce competition.

Whatever Cao Jixiang did at Mentougou must have affected many interests. Those people had orchestrated this impeachment, really to see what the Grand Empress Dowager thought.

She had always kept a strict hand on the eunuchs.

Perhaps, if they escalated the matter, she would punish Cao Jixiang severely.

Yet they did not realize that the emperor himself was behind this affair.

To the Grand Empress Dowager, the coal inspectorate was a trifling matter. Not to say the inspectorate—even if the emperor did something outrageous, she would allow it.

Of course, she would not use her own power to help him, nor would she allow the outer court to intervene.

She simply wanted the emperor to gain experience, to learn for himself the true nature of the Ming realm.

Perhaps the inspectorate had blocked many interests, but to her, it was just the emperor’s homework. Success or failure did not matter—what mattered was that he acted.

Zhu Qizhen promptly said, “I was wrong.”

She asked, “And how were you wrong?”

He replied, “I erred by acting on assumptions, making decisions about Mentougou without understanding the situation.”

She nodded slightly and said, “Well said. In the two capitals and thirteen provinces of Ming, countless matters will come before you. You cannot know them all. How will you decide?”

For a moment, Zhu Qizhen was speechless, but he realized how right she was. This, no doubt, was the reality he would face in the future.