Chapter Fourteen The Final Edict

Chapter Fourteen: The Imperial Testament

Yang Rong, hearing Zhu Qizhen’s question, immediately replied with a solemn expression, “Effigies are made in the likeness of men, yet the Master condemned them.”

Zhu Qizhen said, “If even effigies are objectionable, how much more so is the sacrifice of living people? There still remain practices of burial sacrifices within the palace. Master Yang, as a pillar of the dynasty, should you not have counseled against this?”

Yang Rong promptly pleaded, “This is my failing, Your Majesty.”

Clearly, Zhu Qizhen was shifting the blame.

From the founding emperor to Emperor Xuanzong, compared to the later Ming rulers, these early sovereigns could all be deemed forceful. Even though Zhu Yuanzhang claimed to welcome remonstrance, in truth, few dared speak under his regime. Zhu Yuanzhang’s measures against powerful consorts and the execution of childless concubines were born of real political concerns.

At the dawn of the dynasty, the concubines Zhu Yuanzhang accepted often had pragmatic motivations—for instance, the daughter of Hu Mei, who surrendered Jiangxi, or Guo Ying’s sister. These women hailed from various power factions, and similar logic guided the marriages of his sons. The Prince of Qin’s principal consort was modeled after Zhao Min, the sister of Wang Baobao.

Thus, Zhu Yuanzhang’s revisions carried strong political intent. Since Yongle ascended the throne illegitimately, he was compelled to champion his ancestor’s practices at every turn. Successive generations simply followed suit.

Compared to the affairs of state, the matters concerning these women were minor and could even be spoken of as romantic tales. Sacrificial burial was one thing, but if it was seen as dying for virtue, scholars would praise it as a noble act. Whether it was burial sacrifice or martyrdom, the difference lay in a single character, but the meaning could shift entirely.

Yet Yang Rong was exceptionally astute. Emperor Xuanzong valued him for his ability to comprehend the affairs of the realm, the strategic importance of the nine borders, and the intricacies of the counties. Whenever the emperor asked about military deployments, Yang Rong could respond at once.

Now Yang Rong understood Zhu Qizhen’s intent immediately. If Zhu Qizhen had no desire to challenge this issue, he would not have raised it before his ministers.

Zhu Qizhen said, “You, sir, were the most trusted of my father’s ministers. I wonder, how will you advise me now?”

Yang Rong prostrated himself and declared, “The late emperor bestowed upon me a kindness as vast as heaven and earth. How could I not serve faithfully and repay His Majesty with loyalty? If Your Majesty wishes to abolish this harsh practice, it is in accordance with the Master’s teachings. Yet Your Majesty fears that the ignorant might misunderstand the true intent of the founding emperor, and accuse Your Majesty of wrongdoing. Is that not so?”

Zhu Qizhen replied, “That is precisely my concern.”

Yang Rong said, “I have a plan to offer Your Majesty.”

Zhu Qizhen responded, “Please speak, sir.”

Yang Rong said, “Your Majesty can declare that this is done in accordance with the late emperor’s final testament.”

Zhu Qizhen hesitated. “But my father left no such testament.”

Yang Rong explained, “When the late emperor passed, he summoned myself, Master Yang Shiqi, Master Yang Pu, Master Hu Ying, the Duke of England, as well as the Grand Empress Dowager and the Empress Dowager.”

“Since Your Majesty has summoned me to discuss this matter, the Grand Empress Dowager will surely acquiesce.”

“I am willing to return to the Grand Secretariat and persuade its members.”

With that, Yang Rong said no more.

Zhu Qizhen immediately understood: if these people were united, they could make or unmake emperors—let alone fabricate a simple imperial testament. When the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial wielded great power, they would say, ‘You want an imperial edict? I’ll write one for you.’ With the Grand Empress Dowager’s silent approval, the consensus of the five ministers, and the emperor’s assent, an imperial testament could be conjured at will.

Zhu Qizhen’s view of Yang Rong changed dramatically.

He had long clung to the belief that the three Yangs, as chief civil ministers, must be pedantic like Fang Xiaoru and others, and that persuading them to alter ancestral practices would be exceedingly difficult. But now, it was clear that this was not the case.

Yang Rong’s adaptability amazed Zhu Qizhen. He did not know that for Yang Rong, this matter was but a minor demonstration of his abilities. When Emperor Xuanzong had just ascended the throne and the Prince of Han rebelled, Yang Rong was among those who strongly advocated for a personal campaign. On the return journey after quelling the rebellion, Yang Rong urged the emperor to deal with the Prince of Zhao as well, to avert future troubles. Only Yang Shiqi spoke in favor of Zhao, arguing that the Taizong Emperor had only three sons, and that this was the emperor’s sole uncle.

The implication was clear: they could not possibly wipe out all the sons of Taizong. Thus the Prince of Zhao was spared.

As for the deposing of the empress, it was likewise accomplished smoothly thanks to Yang Rong’s advice.

The rise of Neo-Confucianism as the dominant ideology truly began during the Hong and Xuanzong reigns—precisely at this time. Yet the three Yangs had emerged during the late Hongwu and early Yongle periods, some even during the Jianwen reign. Their thinking had already solidified. Though they spoke the language of Neo-Confucianism, when it came to action, they were far from rigid. To regard them solely as Confucian scholars would be to court disaster.

Zhu Qizhen paused only briefly before recovering himself. “Then, I entrust this matter to you, sir.”

Yang Rong accepted the commission with pleasure.

Upon returning to the Grand Secretariat, Yang Rong first conferred with Yang Shiqi. Though the two often vied with each other, Yang Rong knew one thing: if the matter was to be accomplished, Yang Shiqi’s approval was essential. Moreover, this was the first task entrusted to him by Zhu Qizhen upon his accession, and Yang Rong was determined to carry it out well. Any personal grudges with Yang Shiqi were insignificant in comparison.

Naturally, Yang Shiqi posed no obstacle. First, he did not wish to oppose Zhu Qizhen’s wishes; second, he saw this as a virtuous act. He even added several provisions to the imperial testament, such as the release of palace attendants.

During the founding emperor’s reign, the Ming court employed female officials over forty years old, who were no longer beautiful. Thus, there was little trouble. At that time, eunuchs had little real power; authority in the palace rested with the female officials, and the palace maidens were well treated. Once they reached a certain age, they could return home.

But as time went on, the palace became ever more restrictive.

When the court selected maidens, a shortage of men appeared among the populace. Families rushed to marry off their daughters, for entering the palace meant never seeing one’s parents again.

Yang Shiqi could not abolish this system, but he could make some adjustments. Now, any release was better than none.

Yet another thought began to weigh heavily in Yang Shiqi’s mind: Zhu Qizhen’s growing reliance on Yang Rong. Though he had the Grand Empress Dowager’s support, Yang Rong could not surpass him, especially since she was dissatisfied with Yang Rong’s role in deposing the empress, thinking he had failed to uphold proper ministerial conduct.

Nevertheless, Yang Shiqi did not wish for Yang Rong to become favored by Zhu Qizhen. He thought to himself, “The matter of the imperial lectures must be arranged quickly.”

Imperial lectures were lessons for the emperor—a tradition from the Tang and Song dynasties, and there was precedent in the Ming. Previously, Ming emperors who ascended the throne were adults, and they decided what to learn; the lectures were guided by the emperor and took the form of discussions between ruler and minister.

But Zhu Qizhen was still a child. Thus, the imperial lectures would be different—they would be responsible for the emperor’s education, and the future character of the Ming ruler would hinge on how he was taught now.

This was a matter fundamental to the state.

So Yang Shiqi had long intended to pursue this. Yet Zhu Qizhen had been extremely busy in the palace, and as the chief of all civil ministers, Yang Shiqi was overwhelmed—attending to Emperor Xuanzong’s funeral alone was enough to occupy him, not to mention managing the doubts and anxieties of the court in a time of young succession. He also had urgent matters in the provinces.

He had intended to postpone the imperial lectures, but now he realized he could not delay.

“Judging by His Majesty’s conduct, he has the bearing of Emperor Zhao of Han—young, yet exceptionally intelligent. It would be disastrous to leave him in the care of women and eunuchs; a good emperor could be ruined by poor teaching,” thought Yang Shiqi.

He immediately placed this matter on the agenda.

Nevertheless, it would have to wait until Zhu Qizhen finished the mourning period.

After persuading Yang Shiqi, Yang Rong encountered no opposition from the other secretaries. Thus, an imperial testament was drafted and presented to Zhu Qizhen. Zhu Qizhen read it, then submitted it to the Grand Empress Dowager for review.

She said nothing—neither approval nor disapproval.

But Zhu Qizhen understood her meaning and ordered the Grand Secretariat to promulgate the testament, announcing to the world that the practice of burial sacrifices in the palace was abolished. The circumstances surrounding this edict were transparent to all, but no one dared speak out.

It added a measure of honor to Emperor Xuanzong’s posthumous reputation.