Volume One, The Infant Dragon Opens Its Eyes Chapter 146: The Capital Guards Military Academy

Chapter 146: The Capital Military Academy

Looking at Zhu Yong’s out-of-shape physique, Zhang Fu could already tell that it signaled deep-seated problems.

The physique of a standard ancient military commander was not what modern people imagined—like a bodybuilder with muscles bulging all over at the slightest movement.

Such muscles were largely impractical.

The true physique of a seasoned general consisted of a tiger-like back, a bear-like waist, and a prominent commander's belly.

Look no further than historical portraits; even the depiction of Yue Fei showed a rather substantial stomach.

In combat, weight classes mattered. While heavier was not always better, maintaining a certain percentage of body fat was crucial.

However, that did not mean excessive fat was a good thing either.

Zhu Yong’s physique had clearly deteriorated beyond all acceptable standards.

One could easily deduce that over the past decade or two, he had been softened and ruined by a life of luxury and idleness.

When superiors set the tone, subordinates follow. If Zhu Yong was like this, what about the men under his command? Especially during the imperial hunt, when the Meng family snatched the ultimate glory right before the Emperor's eyes.

That alone spoke volumes.

It was not because the Meng family was exceptionally formidable.

If one spoke of family heritage, the founding nobles of the Jingnan campaign, one and all, believed their ancestors’ military achievements were in no way inferior to the Marquis of Baoding. It was simply that over the past decade or two, the Marquis of Baoding’s family had experienced ups and downs, while the others had grown soft—born in sorrow and dying in comfort.

Zhang Fu slowly said, "Before my child passed away, he spoke some words to me. He said that His Majesty possesses a grand vision and far-reaching foresight. Back then, before the Grand Empress Dowager, His Majesty proposed the strategy of attacking the Oirats to the north. Although it was rebuked by the Grand Empress Dowager, His Majesty’s resolve has never wavered. He simply understood that the court's situation was complex and matters could not be rushed. Yet, His Majesty thinks of this every single day."

"Especially in his daily and nightly drills with the guards of the Qianqing Palace, much like Emperor Wu of Han training the Feathered Forest Guards. When His Majesty takes to the field in the future, it will either be no war at all, or a massive, decisive campaign."

"Among the founding meritocrats, how many families still hold real power after the Jingnan campaign? Although the Duke of Dingguo’s family resides in Beijing, can they lay a finger on the Five Chief Military Commissions?"

"If in the next major war, we old fellows fail to perform, who will lead the Five Chief Military Commissions in the future? Will it be the descendants of the Jingnan meritocrats, or those of the orthodox era?"

Zhang Fu had mentioned this to Zhu Yong not once or twice.

Yet, what could Zhu Yong do about it?

Looking at the upcoming generation, there were almost no capable talents to be found. One only needed to look at the generals currently employed by the court: Jiang Gui was in his sixties, Meng Ying was in his fifties, Mu Ang was in his fifties, and Fang Zheng was in his fifties. They were all aging veterans.

And how old was Zhang Fu when he led hundreds of thousands of troops to conquer Annam? Just thirty-two.

Lucuan was not a particularly difficult place to fight, given the vast disparity in national strength. The outcome was a foregone conclusion. If there were truly any rising stars among the nobility, Zhang Fu would naturally have been more than willing to lend a hand and send him to lead troops in Lucuan.

Yet, not a single one of them was competent.

On the borders, there was indeed one man named Yang Hong who was quite capable, but Yang Hong was, after all, not part of their Jingnan nobility clique.

Zhu Yong asked, "Brother Zhang, what do you suppose we should do?"

Zhang Fu replied, "I recently heard something. When Wang Ji was having an audience with His Majesty, he petitioned for the establishment of a military academy. The sons and heirs of hereditary garrison officers from all over the country would be enrolled for study, and the hereditary titles would be strictly regulated. Those who fail to meet the standards will not be allowed to inherit their family titles."

Zhu Yong caught the underlying meaning instantly and asked, "You mean to say this military academy must be established?"

Zhang Fu sighed and said, "Martial training is back-breaking work. When it comes to our own children, we tend to be too soft-hearted to be harsh with them. The ancients spoke of exchanging children to educate them. Since we cannot teach them properly ourselves, we can only invite others to do it."

"It is still far better than suffering a crushing defeat in the future, bringing public humiliation upon ourselves, losing our heads, and dragging our entire families down to exile in Qiongzhou, like those poor souls."

Zhu Yong immediately thought of the Duke of Qi, Qiu Fu. Indeed, wasn't that the case? Originally, the Qiu family ranked near the very top among the Jingnan meritocrats, right behind Zhang Fu's own household.

Yet, a single disastrous defeat resulted in Qiu Fu dying in battle, dragging thousands of elite troops to their deaths beyond the frontier, and leaving the entire Qiu family—young and old alike—exiled to Qiongzhou.

Gritting his teeth, Zhu Yong declared, "Very well, it is settled! If these little bastards fail to learn properly, they will no longer be considered members of the Zhu family!"

Hearing this, a wave of sorrow washed over Zhang Fu's heart. Zhu Yong's troubles were, to Zhang Fu, the happiest kind of troubles.

Zhang Fu didn't even have a single son.

From now on, Zhang Fu would have no choice but to stoop to things he loathed—scouring everywhere for obscure folk remedies to beget a son, seeking out any kind of woman, whether a widow or a peasant woman.

As long as she was fertile, anything would do.

His sole, unwavering focus was to secure an heir.

Once Zhang Fu and Zhu Yong had reached an agreement, the others merely needed to be informed.

The trend of establishing a military academy in the capital was naturally going to sweep through the ranks. Yet, at this very moment, Zhu祁镇 (Zhu Qizhen) had no idea that someone was already doing what he had wanted done.

At that moment, he was also reviewing the recent events in the imperial court.

He was replaying the whole scenario in his mind, thinking silently: "I still underestimated the Grand Empress Dowager's prestige in the court. When will I ever reach the point where my words carry the ultimate weight like hers? Once I do, I suppose I won't have to rack my brains quite so much."

Zhu Qizhen summoned Wang Zhen and asked, "Are there Embroidered Uniform Guard operatives stationed around Prince Xiang?"

Wang Zhen replied, "Yes, Your Majesty. There are Embroidered Uniform Guard operatives stationed around every single imperial prince."

Zhu Qizhen asked, "Who is the one assigned to Prince Xiang?"

Wang Zhen answered, "He is a disciple of Preceptor Yao, currently serving as the Grand Eunuch in Prince Xiang's household. He was originally an undercover plant in Prince Han's estate before being transferred to Prince Xiang."

Zhu Qizhen gave a soft sigh and remarked, "It seems this imperial uncle of mine is not an honest, law-abiding man either."

Hearing Zhu Qizhen say this, Wang Zhen dared not make any careless remarks.

Zhu Qizhen could vent his grievances about Prince Xiang, but Wang Zhen certainly could not.

Zhu Qizhen instructed, "Increase the manpower. The Embroidered Uniform Guard must know everything Prince Xiang does."

Wang Zhen kowtowed and said, "This servant understands." In routine matters concerning the surveillance of officials and even imperial princes, the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot always performed their duties impeccably.

Immediately afterwards, a memorial from the Cabinet was brought up, and Zhu Qizhen naturally saw the proposed disciplinary action against Wang Wen.

Zhu Qizhen held no deep animosity toward Wang Wen.

Because many matters appeared completely different depending on one's perspective. Wang Wen was a grand master of letters, highly prestigious within scholarly circles.

Punishing him too severely was hardly a good idea.

However, Wang Wen's crackdown on illegal activities by the imperial princes had undoubtedly made life uncomfortable for quite a few of them.

Zhu Qizhen was more than happy to see such an outcome.

Besides, the necessary hints had already been given. Whether the princes chose to mend their ways was entirely their own affair. Did they truly think the court had no means to deal with them? A timely warning was sometimes necessary.

Naturally, Zhu Qizhen approved the memorial.

However, the vacant post of Minister of the Left Censorate left Zhu Qizhen temporarily without a suitable candidate.

Zhu Qizhen mentally reviewed the roster of his former lecturers.

From the Xuande era up to the fourth year of Zhengtong, there had been more than a dozen men who had lectured to Zhu Qizhen. Yet, the only two who left a lasting impression on him were Li Shimian and Wang Zhi.

This was because after the first year of Zhengtong, once Zhu Qizhen had finished reading the Four Books and Five Classics, he had developed a deep aversion to attending lectures.

It was quite simple: Zhu Qizhen’s own viewpoints and perspectives had already firmly crystallized within his mind. Listening to lectures beforehand was merely a way to understand the thoughts and philosophies of these literati officials.

Otherwise, how awkward would it be if the two sides argued in court and couldn't even find a common language to quarrel in? But Zhu Qizhen had no desire to become a pedantic scholar. Therefore, aside from historical texts like the *Zizhi Tongjian*, Zhu Qizhen avoided lectures whenever he could; and when he couldn't, he simply went through the motions with half an ear.

Instead, he channeled his energy into mastering affairs of state.

And analyzing the various political factions within the court.

Because he hadn't paid close attention during lectures, he only retained superficial impressions of these tutors. When the time actually came to employ them, he found himself at a loss for who to choose.

Zhu Qizhen felt a silent pang of regret.

After all, these former lecturers were naturally part of the Emperor's own political faction, and he had failed to cultivate that relationship properly.

"Let it be Li Shimian," Zhu Qizhen thought to himself. "Instructor Li has been in Guangdong for several years now. The opening of the port in Xin'an County is largely settled. Whether it is rewarding him for his contributions or pushing further with maritime trade, a definitive arrangement must be made."

Thus, Zhu Qizhen circled Li Shimian's name on the memorial.

All things considered, Li Shimian’s seniority was more than sufficient, and his reputation and prestige commanded reverence throughout the realm. Appointing him as the Minister of the Left Censorate was a choice against which no one could raise a valid objection.

Immediately afterward, Zhu Qizhen's eyes fell upon Zhang Fu's memorial.

It was yet another petition to establish the military academy.

Before Wang Ji's departure, he had drafted the charter for the military academy. Zhu Qizhen had already instructed the Office of Transmission to distribute it among the high ministers, asking them to submit their opinions. However, too many events had occurred right after Wang Ji left the capital, causing the matter to be shelved.

Now that the momentum was rising once again, Zhu Qizhen felt the time was finally ripe.