Chapter Thirty-Six: Truth and Falsehood

Chapter Thirty-Six: Truth and Falsehood

After seeing Zhang Zhong off, Zhu Qizhen did not dwell on what Zhang might do next. In truth, such roundabout conversations did not come naturally to Zhu Qizhen. Yet now, with all authority held by the Grand Empress Dowager, even if she was wholly intent on cultivating him, Zhu Qizhen dared not act carelessly—every word had to leave him room for retreat.

He turned to Wang Zhen and asked, “Grand Chamberlain Wang, was what the Junior Duke said correct?”

Wang Zhen replied, “Your Majesty, the Junior Duke’s words truly display insight, and I am deeply impressed. But having served long in the palace, I know there are matters of which the Junior Duke is unaware.”

“What he said, in fact, differs slightly from what actually happened.”

“Oh?” said Zhu Qizhen. “Tell me.”

Wang Zhen explained, “Eunuch Zheng was sent adrift at sea by order, directed to support the campaign in Annam. However, as a palace man, even the Duke of England could not command him in Annam.”

Zhu Qizhen understood at once. “So, in the court’s handling of Annam and the Southern Seas, each influenced the other, but the court never treated them as a single matter.”

“Your Majesty is wise,” said Wang Zhen. “I once heard an old story in the palace, though I am unsure if I should speak of it.”

“Is there anything you cannot say to me?” Zhu Qizhen asked.

“In the palace, it is said that when Emperor Taizong reproached the Hu family of Annam, the false Hu tore the imperial edict and declared, ‘If there is treason, how does it concern me?’”

“Emperor Taizong was thus furious, and vowed not to be satisfied until they were destroyed.”

Hearing this, Zhu Qizhen instantly grasped the meaning behind Hu’s claim of treason. The campaign against Annam was launched in the fourth year of Yongle; this matter must have occurred in the second or third year. Prior to the first year of Yongle was the fourth year of Jianwen, or, as Emperor Taizong renamed it, the thirty-fifth year of Hongwu. The Jianwen Emperor had only been dead for a few years.

What was this treason Hu spoke of? How could Zhu Qizhen not understand?

Truly, it was a matter of running afoul of disaster.

Zhu Qizhen gave a light laugh. “From now on, what Junior Duke Zhang said will be treated as truth. Do you have a solution?”

It was only now he understood the Grand Empress Dowager’s words: every minister who stands before the throne is a master of deception. One who cannot deceive the sovereign could never attain such a position.

Zhang Zhong, though still a touch immature, had been carefully groomed by Zhang Fu. He already displayed some measure of statesmanship.

Though Zhu Qizhen knew Zhang Zhong’s words were not entirely factual, he was still moved by the plan Zhang presented. Perhaps Zhang’s true intent was only to urge the court to return to Jiaozhi, and so he kept amplifying its importance.

A careful analysis would reveal that Zhang Zhong’s words were layered with hidden meaning. Even the most improbable suggestion—appointing a feudal prince to guard Jiaozhi—had its context, for among the imperial clan was a widely praised prince, His Highness the Prince of Xiang.

Wang Zhen smiled faintly. “I will search for Your Majesty. Surely, there must be private memorials between Eunuch Zheng and Emperor Taizong, and the archives should contain records.”

What Wang Zhen meant was simply to insert a volume into the palace documents—no more than a gesture for one who controlled the inner court’s power. He was only pleased, without the slightest intention to obstruct.

Wang Zhen understood that this matter was useless for now, but in the future, when it was brought forth, it would be claimed as honoring Emperor Taizong’s legacy. This also aligned with Wang Zhen’s own political views.

Having come to understand the Grand Empress Dowager’s vision, Zhu Qizhen gradually discerned Wang Zhen’s intentions as well. Wang Zhen certainly hoped Zhu Qizhen would become a great emperor, like Taizong—campaigning north against the Mongols, conquering Jiaozhi to the south, dispatching Zheng He to the western seas. Deeds such as these marked a true hero of the age.

But within this desire lay private ambition. Where did eunuchs’ power come from? In essence, the eunuchs of the Ming Dynasty were a tool of imperial authority to counterbalance the ministers.

So, if there were truly an emperor devoted to rest and recovery for the people, it might be a blessing for the commoners, but for the eunuchs, it was certainly not. A content, compliant emperor who ruled from behind the veil left eunuchs with nothing to do but sweep the palace halls. Were they truly willing to sacrifice themselves for mere housekeeping?

Of course, the ministers outside were not all virtuous either. Yang Shiqi, the most prominent of the Three Yangs, appeared upright, but his son was a good-for-nothing, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard had long since reported his misdeeds. In their hometown of Ji’an, the Yangs were local tyrants, covering up small crimes and even two cases of murder.

The Grand Empress Dowager was surely aware, but in this time of needing talented men, she let Yang Shiqi handle it himself. Every policy has its purpose for the moment.

In the seventy years since the founding of the Ming, there had been the Campaign of Jingnan, northern and southern expeditions, and now the nine border regions still blazed with war. Rest for the people benefited scholar-officials and commoners alike.

This was why the Grand Empress Dowager’s vision surpassed that of Wang Zhen and his peers.

Zhu Qizhen increasingly felt that the line between truth and falsehood in this world was not so clearly drawn. So long as it served a purpose, both truth and falsehood could be used.

“Grand Chamberlain,” Zhang Xuan interjected, “send a letter to Eunuch Wang in Nanjing. Have him report on the affairs of the Southern Seas and Western Seas, not through the Grand Secretariat, but directly to the Hall of Heavenly Purity. Also, tell him everything Zhang Zhong said, and ask for his opinion.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Wang Zhen replied.

“In Guangxi, are there any palace eunuchs?” Zhang Xuan suddenly asked.

Wang Zhen replied, “There used to be a supervising eunuch in Guangxi, but after Emperor Renzong’s accession, they were all dismissed. Later, positions were reinstated, but not in Guangxi.”

“Only in Hepu, Guangdong, is there a eunuch, responsible for pearl gathering.”

Hearing the words “pearl gathering,” Zhu Qizhen could not help but recall the ceremonial crown he had worn at his enthronement, with strings of pearls cascading down—most harvested from Hepu. Yet this was no easy task.

He considered abolishing the practice, but even if he did so for Hepu’s pearls, what of those from elsewhere? In the Ming economy, as long as the emperor required pearls upon his crown, many things could not be abolished. Even if the emperor wished it, the court officials would not agree—it would be a breach of decorum.

Zhu Qizhen said, “I remember the Duke of England had many Jiaozhi youths castrated and sent into the palace—are any of them useful?”

In the early Ming, eunuchs were mainly war captives who were castrated and put to service—Wang Zhi, for instance, was captured in the Dateng Gorge campaign.

Wang Zhen replied, “Yes—among them, Eunuch Ruan An is especially skilled in construction, and is currently overseeing the building of Beijing’s city towers.”

Zhu Qizhen did not realize his question was somewhat off. He did not know that although Ming eunuchs could be divided between favorites of Yongle and of Renzong, most lower-ranking eunuchs had never been favored and could be grouped by origin—for instance, the Korean and Annamese factions.

There were many Annamese eunuchs because of war captives, and many Korean eunuchs because favored Korean women in the palace had brought them since the Hongwu era. In order to secure favor, Korea had sent many eunuchs over the years.

Ruan An was an outstanding member of the Annamese faction, perhaps even its representative.

“Summon him to see me,” Zhu Qizhen ordered.

“Yes,” Wang Zhen answered at once.

A guard sprinted away.

Half an hour later, Ruan An hurried into the Hall of Heavenly Purity and, upon seeing Zhu Qizhen, immediately threw himself to the floor. “Your humble servant greets Your Majesty.”

“Rise,” said Zhang Xuan. “I hear from Grand Chamberlain Wang that you excel at construction, and are now in charge of Beijing’s city works?”

Ruan An, dark and thin, dared not lift his head as he replied, “Your Majesty, Grand Chamberlain Wang overpraises me. My family has built for generations. I was chosen by Emperor Taizong and entrusted with weighty duties. I am deeply grateful and dare not slack for a moment.”

“Eunuch Ruan is too modest,” Wang Zhen interjected. “Beijing’s city, Your Majesty, is entirely his design—palace, officials’ residences, inner and outer walls, the three great halls, all drawn by his hand. Even the Ministry of Works cannot alter a single detail.”

“Oh?” Hearing this, Zhu Qizhen was intrigued. His esteem for Eunuch Ruan rose sharply. “So this is the chief architect of Beijing?” he thought to himself. Aloud, he said, “Eunuch Ruan, be seated.”

At once, two young eunuchs came forward to support him to a seat.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ruan An said.