In the wake of Li Zilong’s death, the majority of his subordinates were caught. The White Lotus Society completely collapsed. A few fish had yet slipped the net and gone on the run, but they could hardly clap with one hand; they were of no speakable threat to the Court.
The silver that the Society had been about to pack up and carry away was intercepted, and later on, the Brocade Guard discovered many silver banknotes on Li Zilong’s corpse. They all belonged in chunks to a few different native banks to exploit for business over these several years, as sly hares had more than one burrow to fall back on. That could ensure that he would have money that he could use anytime, anywhere — and it was precisely the reason that he had always had enough manpower and material power to contend with the Court.
In addition to this, the Xu and Fang families were raided clean, owing to their collusions with the White Lotus Society. Only then did the Fangs discover that their shrewd, competent, and prideful patriarch was actually the Society’s second-in-command.
The real Fang Huixue had been murdered by Li Zilong years ago. The latter had not only pretended to be him and taken all that was once his, but accomplished in passing on his behalf something the Fang descendants hadn’t even been able to achieve: their revitalization.
Borrowing Fang Huixue’s identity, Li Zilong had mingled himself into popularity in Ji’an. He had simultaneously used that concealing layer to secretly mine and cast money, and donated money for infrastructure to win a good reputation for himself, as well as make the things he’d been doing in secret go even smoother. With the support of riches, the Fang business had inevitably grown, and the Society’s great rebellious cause had been able to continue, an alleged case of one move, two rewards.
Tang Fan had ruined several of the Society’s booms and exposed several layers of Li Zilong’s identity, which caused it to view him as a nail in its eye, but in reality, Li Zilong had been deep of mind, calculating, and difficult to deal with. With the Brocade Guard’s power, there would have been no way he could have drawn this out for so many years, slipping away time and time again, otherwise.
Had it not been for Ji Min’s last-second regrets, Tang Fan would long be dead right now, Li Zilong would long be gone, and by the time Sui Zhou got there, he would likely only have been able to collect Tang Fan’s corpse.
Tang Fan did not forget his promise. By his strenuous efforts, Ji Min was accepted to have died doing his duty as he was laid to rest. The Court bestowed him the titles of Officer of Noble Comment and Rectifier of All Officials, while his mother was sealed as a fifth-rank Lady of Decorum, granted a plaque and money enough to take care of her for the rest of her life.
On the Xu family’s end, owing to the inextricable attachment between it and the Fang family, it was charged with rebellion, similarly coming into danger. Even though Xu Bin was far-off in the capital, his reaction was very sharp; noticing a poor trend, he immediately took it upon himself to donate all of his familial wealth directly to the Emperor through the Wan party, thus letting him keep his life.
Of course, with his slyness, whether that donation actually was all of his wealth was unknown.
The White Lotus Society going unmentioned for the time being, the institutional exam fraud case came to light. Xu Sui and Shen Si were fifty- and thirty-percent responsible for it, respectively. They were never to participate in exams for all of their lives, in light of their fathers falling into financial ruin or losing their post. Due to his merit in confessing and Tang Fan pleading for him in a memorial, Shen Kunxiu was stripped of his rank and returned to the citizenry; in his opinion, his son being able to keep his life was already a great fortune within this misfortune.
Regardless, all of this came to a conclusion. The Fang and Xu families would eventually become history.
Flowers bloomed, then fell. Autumn went, and spring came. A few years’ time passed quickly by, and in the turn of an eye, it became fall in the twenty-second year of Chenghua.
The White Lotus Society no longer made trouble, and the world appeared to be at much more peace — in Tang Fan and Sui Zhou’s opinions, at least. After returning to the capital, the two finally lived a peaceful life without needing to wear themselves out running all over.
However, peace was merely relative.
Nothing major was happening in the land, but that didn’t mean that the Court was at peace. On the contrary, over these past two years, the Emperor’s health had steadily gone downhill until it was at its bottom. This was a long story.
Before the current Crown Prince had been named, because Noble Consort Wan had no children of her own, she had strictly regulated the imperial harem’s offspring. For example, Zhu Youji, born of Consort Bai, had been the current Crown Prince’s big brother, sealed as the Crown Prince at two years of age. However, less than two months after receiving the title, he had passed of a sudden, bizarre illness. There had been many rumors both inside and outside of the palace, amongst which most people agreed that Consort Wan had nothing short of poisoned him.
Even the current Crown Prince, Zhu Youcheng, had suffered a lot of hardship prior to getting his rank, getting displaced several times during his childhood and nearly not surviving. When he met the Emperor at five, he had passed the age of where one was most weak, most liable to die, and after that, Consort Wan had appeared to have smashed the already-broken pot, no longer forbidding harem women from bearing offspring.
For that reason, after Zhu Youcheng came children birthed in quick succession. At this point, there were several tens of Princes and Princesses at the Emperor’s knees, and that wasn’t including those still in concubines’ wombs. It was clear how hard the Chenghua Emperor had worked following Consort Wan’s lift of the ban.
Now, the rear palace thrived with children. With branches extended and leaves scattered,
However, the inevitable consequence of that excessive hard work was that the Emperor had excessively lost internal essence, falling ill. His body had not been sturdy to begin with, and his lack of moderation made even the imperial doctors helpless.
Upon seeing that medicine was powerless to completely heal him, the Emperor began to place his hopes upon fictitious immortality techniques, putting more faith into Li Zisheng, Ji Xiao, and the rest of them, virtually to the extent where he only heard what he wanted to. His care towards national affairs diminished by the day, to the point that he was almost completely uninvolved in them now.
The only good thing was that despite him refusing to work, the Cabinet still did. Not everyone in it worked as one mind with the others, but, using the system set in place by their ancestors, the empire was finally capable of maintaining daily operations.
Even so, that had no bearing on it being actually all that calm. At the very least, with Tang Fan in the Cabinet, every day contained marvelous audaciousness that could be described as stimulating.
Two years back, on account of his accrued merits from the Suzhou and fraud cases, plus the termination of the White Lotus Society and such, after his return to the capital, Tang Fan had transferred from the Inspectorate to the Ministry of Justice, officially taking up the position of Left Assistant Minister. On top of that, because there was a lack of Minister, he had passingly taken up the post’s role as a substitute. While he had yet to receive the proper title, he was already the real Minister of Justice.
In light of his age, that promotion rate was already pretty astonishing — he had just hit thirty when he went from a third-rank Assistant Minister to a second-rank Minister. Looking at the Great Ming Dynasty, there likely weren’t many similar. Compared to others in their forties and fifties in officialdom who still struggled to head up from Prefectural and Provincial Magistrate positions, it could practically be called the precipitous rise of a promising young man.
At that time, the Cabinet’s situation had since undergone an earth-overturning development.
Wan An, Liu Xu, and Liu Ji, once secretly named by officials the three papier-mâché Solons, really only had two left of them: Wan An and Liu Ji. As early as a few years back, Liu Xu had been crowded out by them.
After his departure, Wan An had consecutively recommended Peng Hua, Yi Zhi, and some others for entry into the Cabinet. By himself, Liu Ji would have been weak and gradually fallen downwind, so he had also recommended Liu Jian, Xu Pu, Qiu Jun, and others for entry in order to vie with Wan An.
At that time period, Tang Fan had not yet returned to the capital. The Cabinet entries hadn’t a thing to do with him, except that Qiu Jun’s admission encountered immense resistance — because Old Man Qiu was upright in conduct, preferring to break rather than bend at any resistance.
Liu Ji recommending him had not been because he liked him, but rather that he simply wanted to use him to deal with Wan An. The latter would not agree to bring such a headache onto himself, of course, leading to a deadlock on either side.
Coincidentally, Tang Fan had resolved the Ji’an incident and returned to the capital, temporarily taking up the Minister of Justice post. Liu Ji had then taken a step back, saying that it would be better to let Qiu Jun’s student enter the Cabinet; Tang Fan resembled the ‘drift’ character of his name, being sleek and adaptable by nature, which made him far more suited than his teacher.
Ever since the Cabinet had been established, due to the limits of system, even Head Viziers had less power than that of Tang and Song Prime Ministers. Thus, despite Wan An being the Head Vizier, there was no way he could be all-powerful — as much was evidenced by Shang Ming stepping down after the Suzhou case. His alleged slight upper hand was sourced from none other than the Emperor’s favor.
In Liu Ji’s view, his recommendations of Liu Jian, Tang Fan, and the others had not been because he appreciated them, but because he had difficulties that had given him no choice. As had been said before, the one censors denounced the most times out of every level in society was not Head Vizier Wan An, but Solon Liu Ji, who — because of his thick skin, black heart, and lack of fear about denouncements — had been crowned with the ‘beautiful name’ of Liu Cottonflower.
And yet, no matter how thick his skin was, in the face of an endless stream of denouncement memorials, he was depressed and distressed on the inside. When an official, who wouldn’t hope to have a good reputation? Hence was why he had recommended all of these people; they all had honorable official’s reputations, well-liked by the public. Him recommending virtuous talents would wash his own not-to-splendrous reputation away by the by, of course.
For the sake of not having total losses on both sides, Wan An had finally agreed to Liu Ji’s proposal. After it was pushed through the Court, Tang Fan thus also entered the Cabinet.
His rank came after Liu Jian and Xu Pu; in other words, he was the very youngest there, belonging to the bottom rung. Still, being the youngest was always better than not being in at all; as the authoritative core of the Great Ming Empire, the Cabinet had always been the ultimate quest of officials.
No matter what seniority rankings there were inside the Cabinet, being capable of joining it meant turning into a Vizier of the Great Ming. From that point on, any outsiders would have to use ‘Solon Tang’ when addressing Tang Fan, as only that would show more respect. A young Vizier such as him was very unique, too, as at this point in time, it had only been about six-ish years since he had been appointed as a minor Chief in the Ministry of Justice.
The velocity of his promotions could really strike one dumb. It seemed like he was the only one in the Great Ming Dynasty to have such encounters.
Still, as long as any bystander gave a careful thought about all he had done, they would seem to not feel so shocked. Anyone that wanted to get into a certain spot would have to have the skills to match, as otherwise, even if he had sky-reaching luck, there would be times where there would be no divine light for him.
In the tiger’s den that was the Cabinet, mediocre men could only be reduced to fish on a sacrificial altar, ripe for others to slaughter.
While envied by his peers, Solon Tang’s time in the Cabinet was really not as hunky-dory as outsiders imagined.
When not in the Cabinet, anyone would look up to it and inevitably get a sense of mystique stemming from a lack of knowledge. Only when one was actually located inside it would they find that this life, and the feeling of it therein, was really not something good enough to tell those outside.
Since the Emperor wasn’t doing it, the Cabinet was required to handle important documents that came from all over the country, then issue corresponding policies and pointers, every single day. The Great Ming’s territory was expansive, which further indicated that the Solons’ desks had memorials piled up like snow, each needing urgent handling with no delay, also every single day.
At times, the Eastern rivers would flood farmlands, but the citizens in a certain Western prefecture would often be devastated by pestilence and drought, the local governments weeping and whining for days on end. Cabinet Viziers could never go inspect things themselves, so no matter what memorial read pitifully and in need of help, the national treasury’s funds and provisions were still limited. Which side should have aid allocated first, and which could be set aside first, both required the Cabinet’s judgement. Sometimes, if their judgement was incorrect, that meant that thousands, or tens of thousands of lives would be lost from their mistake.
After Tang Fan’s group had entered the Cabinet, its manpower had accordingly multiplied. Everyone shared a portion of the work. It was reasonable to say that the workload had already been reduced to its fullest extent, yet each of them still had to go on duty before dawn daily. Come afternoon, when the bureau was dismissed, the Cabinet members would remain there most times, discussing business and evaluating memorials. The toil involved in all of this could not be fully described in a mere sentence.
In spite of numerous criticisms, Wan An was not the Head Vizier that typical imagined he was; where as long as he flattered the Emperor every day, then did nothing, he could sit stably in his Head Vizier’s position. Whenever the Cabinet officials were discussing political matters, the Head Vizier needed to supervise the discussion, as well as conduct summaries and come up with final policies when the others had unfinished talks and differing opinions. On some major matters, even if the other Cabinet members had evaluated them, the Head Vizier would still need to look it over again to verify that the conclusion was doable and without flaws.
Since the Emperor was honed in on cultivating to immortality over the government, the Cabinet’s responsibilities and workload had imperceptibly increased by a large amount. Following many policies being implemented, the instant the Court officials were all unhappy, they would believe it to be Cabinet’s responsibility. As the acting Head Vizier, Wan An had to bear even more accusations than the other members did.
These were all other aspects that Tang Fan had never seen before.
Formerly, when on the outside, he had always felt that the Wan party had nothing better to do other than make trouble for him all day long. Now that he had witnessed this with his own eyes, Wan An’s capability to be Head Vizier was not a pure reliance on toadying with not one good point to him; at the bare minimum, his organizational abilities were far stronger than anyone else’s.
Also, Tang Fan knew that the Wan party’s core was not actually Wan An. To be more specific, the reason why it could stand tall in the Chenghua Court without fall depended upon Consort Wan’s favor from the Emperor, to a large degree. Without her, there would be no party.
She never directly intervened in political affairs, but her influencing power was all over it. Its most direct manifestation was in her extreme unhappiness with the current Crown Prince, never not hoping that he would be replaced, thus making the Wan party forever oppose the Prince.
All those things, at most, only allowed Tang Fan to understand Wan An a bit better, which didn’t at all mean that he had a good impression of any of these people.
On account of Consort Wan’s enormous influential power, in order to strengthen his position, Wan An didn’t skimp on letting go of his civil official posturing to claim relation to the Wan siblings. Liu Ji was also tied by marriage to Consort Wan’s family, which firmly tied their interests to the Wan clan, acting in tandem with what it liked and loathed, completely losing their principles and magnanimity of Viziers. That was the real reason why everyone hated the Wan party, slandering Wan An and company behind their backs.
That was saying nothing of the fact that while the Cabinet was impressive to hear of, it was actually an even worse work environment than that of the Six Ministries. Everyone was crammed into the tiny Pavilion of Literary Profundity, with the tiny workrooms the Cabinet members used all connected to each other — it could not compare in the slightest to the bright, spacious bureau halls of the Minisitries.
Beyond that, Tang Fan held the concurrent position of Minister of Revenue. Not only did he have to deal with that pile of Cabinet stuff, but he also needed to find time to return to the Ministry every day, constantly busy.
It was fortunate that there were not many things that the Ministry needed him to judge at the moment, the majority of them being done by the Right Assistant Minister, Peng Yichun. Way back when Tang Fan had still been a Chief of the Ministry of Justice, the old gent had had a decent relationship with him, and after he had left, he had constantly kept in tough with him.
After returning to the capital and re-entering the Ministry of Justice, Peng Yichun’s support had been indispensable in him getting to work so quickly. Therefore, after entering the Cabinet, he had recommended for Peng Yichun to be the Minister of Justice, so that he could relieve himself from the unceasing work.
The Minister of Justice was not too important a position, so him having both it and entering the Cabinet was not something anyone objected to. A typical person holding two posts would probably never be happy enough, eager to never pass off power, and they especially happened to be in both the Cabinet and Ministries — yet Tang Fan hadn’t even warmed his seat in his Minister spot before he was rushing to suggest someone else to share the burden. Even Wang Zhi had to laugh at him not recognizing the fortune within a fortune.
Even with all that, the Cabinet meetings every three days still made Tang Fan’s head ache.
He wasn’t the only one, either; all of the Cabinet members felt the exact same way.
Like today, for example.
In the Pavilion’s discussion hall, the Head Vizier sat at the head seat, and every else sat in two rows.
Seeing the hourglass reach the time of the Monkey,(3-5p) which meant that the discussion was about done, everyone inwardly let out a sigh of relief, think to themselves that they ought to be able to get off duty on time today.
Then, Wan An said, “There are two more final things that I want to talk over with all of you.”
Hearing that, they all subconsciously straightened up, peacefully awaiting the Head Vizier’s next words.
“The Pavilion has four workrooms. Formerly, there were not so many members, leaving one room per person. Now that there are so many more people, it seemed a bit crowded. His Majesty is compassionate; after hearing of this, he said that he couldn’t bear to watch his Viziers work hard for the nation yet have such a tiny workspace, and that he was going to allocate funds from the internal treasury to renovate and expand the Pavilion.”
When he said that, everyone couldn’t help but liven up, all nodding.
“His Majesty has a kind heart, so busy, yet still never forgetting to empathize with his subjects,” Liu Ji picked up. “He really has us officials’ unending gratitude!”
The Pavilion had been constructed in the Yongle era, formerly used for book storage. Later on, an additional function came, turning it into the confidential vital area for Cabinet members to go on duty and work in.
Coming to today, even with the ever-increasing power of the Cabinet, the Pavilion was still that tiny Pavilion. As of right now, there were seven Cabinet members: Wan An, Liu Ji, Peng Hua, Yin Zhi, Liu Jian, Xu Pu, and Tang Fan. Aside from one room for the Head Vizier, everyone else — Vice Vizier Liu Ji included — had to have two to a room.
Outsiders only knew of the Viziers’ flair, not of their misery. If they could see the Pavilion’s workrooms, they would probably be speechless.
This was why the Emperor’s words really touched everyone’s hearts. Who didn’t hope for a bit more roomy workspace? Their eyes all shone brightly, awaiting Wan An’s follow-up.
Wan An purposefully paused for a short moment, waiting for them to absorb those words, then continued. “However, all sorts of spendings are needed nowadays, leaving the internal treasury not with abundance. We, as subjects, should share His Majesty’s worries, rather than add frost to the snow. Therefore, I told him that there was no need to give funds from the internal treasury, but to instead get funds from the national treasury for renovations.”
Everyone: “…”
See, this was one of the reasons why people found Wan An hateable.
The money in the internal treasury was separate from the national treasury. The Emperor could use the internal treasury any time he willed it, but if he wanted to use money from the national treasury, he would need to obtain the Court’s consent.
The Great Ming’s treasury was counted annually. What ought to allocated for the Ministry of War’s funding, and what ought to be put away for disaster, left not much thereafter. Even thinking of taking money out to fix up the Pavilion was pretty much impossible.
Even though Cabinet members stayed in the Pavilion, it was ultimately a construction inside the palace. Reasonably, it should be fixed up with the internal treasury’s money, but past Emperors had rarely brought that problem up. The current Emperor had, with great difficulty, been made aware and wanted to pay for it himself, yet Wan An had declined it.
Listen, you wanting to curry favor with the Son of Heaven is fine, but you pulled all of us into the water by rejecting a hard-to-come-by boon — can you maybe not make everyone hate you?
The most depressing part was that nobody could object — they would have to say he had been right to reject it, because throughout all the ages, there had never been record of a subject forcing the Emperor to pay for renovations of his workplace.
While they all had odd expression, they couldn’t speak, mixed feelings in their minds as they ‘paid respects’ to Wan An who-knew-how-many times.
Wan An looked at his surroundings. “What? Do you all believe that to not be right?”
He was waiting for somebody to jump out and say it wasn’t, so that he could give them the cap of dishonesty and complain of him before the Emperor in passing.
What a real pity it was that everyone present was a bit on the cooler side than others, when it came to personality. Even if it was uncomfortable to be in those cramped workrooms, they were determined to not be the bird that stuck its head out.
Even Liu Ji laughed, saying, “Yuanweng, you said as much that as officials, we should share His Majesty’s burden. How could we add to his troubles? What was the second thing you wanted to speak of?”
Wan An lightly coughed. “The second matter is also related to money. His Majesty wants to repair the Palace of Esteemed Realness and Longevity.”
That ‘Longevity Palace’ was actually a Daoist monastery. In the Yuan Dynasty, it had been equally as famed as White Cloud Monastery, but the latter was all that was left. During the war at Yuan’s end, the Longevity Palace had gradually become abandoned, and was now a grassy field under the Supervisory of Royal Steeds’ control.
The Emperor wanting rebuild it on a whim had to have a reason, and no one here needed to ask to know that Li Zisheng’s instigation had been involved.
Following the Emperor’s poor health, he had grown more and more obsessed with magic. This wasn’t something that had happened over a day or two. What those on top liked, those below would have all the more fervor for; people like Li Zisheng and Zhao Yuzhi had received re-use because of this, even getting arranged into important spots, like the Office of Transmissions.
There were no lack of colluders in the Cabinet nowadays, too. The reason Peng Hua was able to sit here was because he got on Wan An’s connection through knowing Li Zisheng.
“Dare I ask, Yuanweng; why have I never heard His Majesty speak of this before?” Liu Ji asked.
“I just heard him bring it up when I went into the palace yesterday.”
Liu Ji smiled. “How the internal treasury’s money is used is for His Majesty to decide. If he wants to use it for the Longevity Palace, we, as subjects, cannot stop him. I’m unsure of why you specially wanted to talk this over with us?”
Wan An inwardly scolded him for pretending to be a sly old fox, a genial expression still on his face. “His Majesty meant that rebuilding the Palace is not a simple matter, and will be a huge task. The money in the internal treasury might not be enough. That is why I wanted to ask what all of you think. Youzhi, you head the Ministry of Revenue — as you see it, how should we respond to His Majesty?”
In other words, the Emperor wanted to use money from the national treasury to build his Daoist monastery, but was too embarrassed to say so, so he had made Wan An ask the Cabinet for its opinion in a roundabout way.
As soon as Wan An spoke, everyone looked to Liu Ji.
Liu Ji didn’t want to agree, because he was valuing his reputation all the more; if he nodded and allowed the Emperor to take money from the Ministry of Revenue for his monastery, he, the Cabinet member in charge of that Ministry, would be chastised to death by censors. However, if he didn’t agree to it, he would offend the Emperor.
Thinking of that, he said with a smile, “I may be in charge of the Ministry of Revenue, but this is a greatly important matter. I alone don’t have the final say; it’s up to everyone here to decide.”
Wan An was not happy at all about his fate-defying, shirking attitude. “How much money does the national treasury have at the moment.”
“Less than a million.”
“That’s no small amount. His Majesty has been economic in everything since his ascension, never doing anything to waste resources. Now, he has the seldom want to rebuild a palace monastery. That’s no big thing; can you not give out five-hundred-thousand taels?”
Liu Ji smiled painfully. “His Majesty’s affairs are his subject’s affairs. If the Longevity Palace could be rebuilt using that much, what reason would I have to disagree? However, I must let you know that that money has long been reserved for the Ministry of War, which is said to be for buying the Northern garrisons’ winter clothes. That isn’t my call, either.”
Liu Jian, head of the Ministry of War, spoke up at that. “Yes, that’s true. Yuanweng, those five-hundred-thousand taels were agreed upon with Lord Liu half a year ago.”
Wan An said nothing, face dark. Peng Hua ended up saying, “Yuanweng, why not let everyone go home to think it over, and we’ll speak on it tomorrow?”
Getting his prestige refuted by Liu Ji and Liu Jian in quick turn, Wan An was pretty unhappy. He looked over the crowd, threw out the phrase “Then the meeting is adjourned,” and left in a huff.
Meetings like this were without both efficiency and meaning. As Tang Fan occupied the last seat, and also headed the most unremarkable Ministry of Justice, it was not his place to express any opinions under typical circumstances. Seeing that everyone was leaving, he also packed up his things and walked out after Liu Jian.
Once out the palace gate, Liu Jian stepped away first. Seeing that this was a rare day where he had gotten off work early, Tang Fan wanted to make a detour to that usual wonton stall, go buy some scallion youbing, then go home, but when he had gone just a few steps away, he heard someone call him. “Solon Tang!”
Tang Fan turned to see; it was Wei Mao. The other hurried over in just a few steps.
“I say, Old Wei; others calling me Solon Tang is fine, but why are you doing it, too? It makes me almost too embarrassed to respond to you!” Tang Fan said with a laugh.
Wei Mao laughed along with him. “This is only way to look respectful. I won’t hide it from you; this lowly one came here on Eunuch Wang’s orders. He said that he’s inviting you to eat at Immortal Cloud in the evening, so after you get off of work, you shouldn’t leave, but go right there to wait for him.”
On any other day, Tang Fan would definitely get shiny-eyed, but he said this time, “I’m sorry, but I have to go home for dinner tonight, or else the Hedong lion[1] in my home will get mad and make me kneel on the washboard!”
Wei Mao was taken aback, thinking, You’re not married; where could a Hedong lion come from?
Then, his thoughts turned around, and he went speechless.
Before he could react, Tang Fan had already boarded a sedan chair and left.
In the wake of Li Zilong’s death, the majority of his subordinates were caught. The White Lotus Society completely collapsed. A few fish had yet slipped the net and gone on the run, but they could hardly clap with one hand; they were of no speakable threat to the Court.
The silver that the Society had been about to pack up and carry away was intercepted, and later on, the Brocade Guard discovered many silver banknotes on Li Zilong’s corpse. They all belonged in chunks to a few different native banks to exploit for business over these several years, as sly hares had more than one burrow to fall back on. That could ensure that he would have money that he could use anytime, anywhere — and it was precisely the reason that he had always had enough manpower and material power to contend with the Court.
In addition to this, the Xu and Fang families were raided clean, owing to their collusions with the White Lotus Society. Only then did the Fangs discover that their shrewd, competent, and prideful patriarch was actually the Society’s second-in-command.
The real Fang Huixue had been murdered by Li Zilong years ago. The latter had not only pretended to be him and taken all that was once his, but accomplished in passing on his behalf something the Fang descendants hadn’t even been able to achieve: their revitalization.
Borrowing Fang Huixue’s identity, Li Zilong had mingled himself into popularity in Ji’an. He had simultaneously used that concealing layer to secretly mine and cast money, and donated money for infrastructure to win a good reputation for himself, as well as make the things he’d been doing in secret go even smoother. With the support of riches, the Fang business had inevitably grown, and the Society’s great rebellious cause had been able to continue, an alleged case of one move, two rewards.
Tang Fan had ruined several of the Society’s booms and exposed several layers of Li Zilong’s identity, which caused it to view him as a nail in its eye, but in reality, Li Zilong had been deep of mind, calculating, and difficult to deal with. With the Brocade Guard’s power, there would have been no way he could have drawn this out for so many years, slipping away time and time again, otherwise.
Had it not been for Ji Min’s last-second regrets, Tang Fan would long be dead right now, Li Zilong would long be gone, and by the time Sui Zhou got there, he would likely only have been able to collect Tang Fan’s corpse.
Tang Fan did not forget his promise. By his strenuous efforts, Ji Min was accepted to have died doing his duty as he was laid to rest. The Court bestowed him the titles of Officer of Noble Comment and Rectifier of All Officials, while his mother was sealed as a fifth-rank Lady of Decorum, granted a plaque and money enough to take care of her for the rest of her life.
On the Xu family’s end, owing to the inextricable attachment between it and the Fang family, it was charged with rebellion, similarly coming into danger. Even though Xu Bin was far-off in the capital, his reaction was very sharp; noticing a poor trend, he immediately took it upon himself to donate all of his familial wealth directly to the Emperor through the Wan party, thus letting him keep his life.
Of course, with his slyness, whether that donation actually was all of his wealth was unknown.
The White Lotus Society going unmentioned for the time being, the institutional exam fraud case came to light. Xu Sui and Shen Si were fifty- and thirty-percent responsible for it, respectively. They were never to participate in exams for all of their lives, in light of their fathers falling into financial ruin or losing their post. Due to his merit in confessing and Tang Fan pleading for him in a memorial, Shen Kunxiu was stripped of his rank and returned to the citizenry; in his opinion, his son being able to keep his life was already a great fortune within this misfortune.
Regardless, all of this came to a conclusion. The Fang and Xu families would eventually become history.
Flowers bloomed, then fell. Autumn went, and spring came. A few years’ time passed quickly by, and in the turn of an eye, it became fall in the twenty-second year of Chenghua.
The White Lotus Society no longer made trouble, and the world appeared to be at much more peace — in Tang Fan and Sui Zhou’s opinions, at least. After returning to the capital, the two finally lived a peaceful life without needing to wear themselves out running all over.
However, peace was merely relative.
Nothing major was happening in the land, but that didn’t mean that the Court was at peace. On the contrary, over these past two years, the Emperor’s health had steadily gone downhill until it was at its bottom. This was a long story.
Before the current Crown Prince had been named, because Noble Consort Wan had no children of her own, she had strictly regulated the imperial harem’s offspring. For example, Zhu Youji, born of Consort Bai, had been the current Crown Prince’s big brother, sealed as the Crown Prince at two years of age. However, less than two months after receiving the title, he had passed of a sudden, bizarre illness. There had been many rumors both inside and outside of the palace, amongst which most people agreed that Consort Wan had nothing short of poisoned him.
Even the current Crown Prince, Zhu Youcheng, had suffered a lot of hardship prior to getting his rank, getting displaced several times during his childhood and nearly not surviving. When he met the Emperor at five, he had passed the age of where one was most weak, most liable to die, and after that, Consort Wan had appeared to have smashed the already-broken pot, no longer forbidding harem women from bearing offspring.
For that reason, after Zhu Youcheng came children birthed in quick succession. At this point, there were several tens of Princes and Princesses at the Emperor’s knees, and that wasn’t including those still in concubines’ wombs. It was clear how hard the Chenghua Emperor had worked following Consort Wan’s lift of the ban.
Now, the rear palace thrived with children. With branches extended and leaves scattered,
However, the inevitable consequence of that excessive hard work was that the Emperor had excessively lost internal essence, falling ill. His body had not been sturdy to begin with, and his lack of moderation made even the imperial doctors helpless.
Upon seeing that medicine was powerless to completely heal him, the Emperor began to place his hopes upon fictitious immortality techniques, putting more faith into Li Zisheng, Ji Xiao, and the rest of them, virtually to the extent where he only heard what he wanted to. His care towards national affairs diminished by the day, to the point that he was almost completely uninvolved in them now.
The only good thing was that despite him refusing to work, the Cabinet still did. Not everyone in it worked as one mind with the others, but, using the system set in place by their ancestors, the empire was finally capable of maintaining daily operations.
Even so, that had no bearing on it being actually all that calm. At the very least, with Tang Fan in the Cabinet, every day contained marvelous audaciousness that could be described as stimulating.
Two years back, on account of his accrued merits from the Suzhou and fraud cases, plus the termination of the White Lotus Society and such, after his return to the capital, Tang Fan had transferred from the Inspectorate to the Ministry of Justice, officially taking up the position of Left Assistant Minister. On top of that, because there was a lack of Minister, he had passingly taken up the post’s role as a substitute. While he had yet to receive the proper title, he was already the real Minister of Justice.
In light of his age, that promotion rate was already pretty astonishing — he had just hit thirty when he went from a third-rank Assistant Minister to a second-rank Minister. Looking at the Great Ming Dynasty, there likely weren’t many similar. Compared to others in their forties and fifties in officialdom who still struggled to head up from Prefectural and Provincial Magistrate positions, it could practically be called the precipitous rise of a promising young man.
At that time, the Cabinet’s situation had since undergone an earth-overturning development.
Wan An, Liu Xu, and Liu Ji, once secretly named by officials the three papier-mâché Solons, really only had two left of them: Wan An and Liu Ji. As early as a few years back, Liu Xu had been crowded out by them.
After his departure, Wan An had consecutively recommended Peng Hua, Yi Zhi, and some others for entry into the Cabinet. By himself, Liu Ji would have been weak and gradually fallen downwind, so he had also recommended Liu Jian, Xu Pu, Qiu Jun, and others for entry in order to vie with Wan An.
At that time period, Tang Fan had not yet returned to the capital. The Cabinet entries hadn’t a thing to do with him, except that Qiu Jun’s admission encountered immense resistance — because Old Man Qiu was upright in conduct, preferring to break rather than bend at any resistance.
Liu Ji recommending him had not been because he liked him, but rather that he simply wanted to use him to deal with Wan An. The latter would not agree to bring such a headache onto himself, of course, leading to a deadlock on either side.
Coincidentally, Tang Fan had resolved the Ji’an incident and returned to the capital, temporarily taking up the Minister of Justice post. Liu Ji had then taken a step back, saying that it would be better to let Qiu Jun’s student enter the Cabinet; Tang Fan resembled the ‘drift’ character of his name, being sleek and adaptable by nature, which made him far more suited than his teacher.
Ever since the Cabinet had been established, due to the limits of system, even Head Viziers had less power than that of Tang and Song Prime Ministers. Thus, despite Wan An being the Head Vizier, there was no way he could be all-powerful — as much was evidenced by Shang Ming stepping down after the Suzhou case. His alleged slight upper hand was sourced from none other than the Emperor’s favor.
In Liu Ji’s view, his recommendations of Liu Jian, Tang Fan, and the others had not been because he appreciated them, but because he had difficulties that had given him no choice. As had been said before, the one censors denounced the most times out of every level in society was not Head Vizier Wan An, but Solon Liu Ji, who — because of his thick skin, black heart, and lack of fear about denouncements — had been crowned with the ‘beautiful name’ of Liu Cottonflower.
And yet, no matter how thick his skin was, in the face of an endless stream of denouncement memorials, he was depressed and distressed on the inside. When an official, who wouldn’t hope to have a good reputation? Hence was why he had recommended all of these people; they all had honorable official’s reputations, well-liked by the public. Him recommending virtuous talents would wash his own not-to-splendrous reputation away by the by, of course.
For the sake of not having total losses on both sides, Wan An had finally agreed to Liu Ji’s proposal. After it was pushed through the Court, Tang Fan thus also entered the Cabinet.
His rank came after Liu Jian and Xu Pu; in other words, he was the very youngest there, belonging to the bottom rung. Still, being the youngest was always better than not being in at all; as the authoritative core of the Great Ming Empire, the Cabinet had always been the ultimate quest of officials.
No matter what seniority rankings there were inside the Cabinet, being capable of joining it meant turning into a Vizier of the Great Ming. From that point on, any outsiders would have to use ‘Solon Tang’ when addressing Tang Fan, as only that would show more respect. A young Vizier such as him was very unique, too, as at this point in time, it had only been about six-ish years since he had been appointed as a minor Chief in the Ministry of Justice.
The velocity of his promotions could really strike one dumb. It seemed like he was the only one in the Great Ming Dynasty to have such encounters.
Still, as long as any bystander gave a careful thought about all he had done, they would seem to not feel so shocked. Anyone that wanted to get into a certain spot would have to have the skills to match, as otherwise, even if he had sky-reaching luck, there would be times where there would be no divine light for him.
In the tiger’s den that was the Cabinet, mediocre men could only be reduced to fish on a sacrificial altar, ripe for others to slaughter.
While envied by his peers, Solon Tang’s time in the Cabinet was really not as hunky-dory as outsiders imagined.
When not in the Cabinet, anyone would look up to it and inevitably get a sense of mystique stemming from a lack of knowledge. Only when one was actually located inside it would they find that this life, and the feeling of it therein, was really not something good enough to tell those outside.
Since the Emperor wasn’t doing it, the Cabinet was required to handle important documents that came from all over the country, then issue corresponding policies and pointers, every single day. The Great Ming’s territory was expansive, which further indicated that the Solons’ desks had memorials piled up like snow, each needing urgent handling with no delay, also every single day.
At times, the Eastern rivers would flood farmlands, but the citizens in a certain Western prefecture would often be devastated by pestilence and drought, the local governments weeping and whining for days on end. Cabinet Viziers could never go inspect things themselves, so no matter what memorial read pitifully and in need of help, the national treasury’s funds and provisions were still limited. Which side should have aid allocated first, and which could be set aside first, both required the Cabinet’s judgement. Sometimes, if their judgement was incorrect, that meant that thousands, or tens of thousands of lives would be lost from their mistake.
After Tang Fan’s group had entered the Cabinet, its manpower had accordingly multiplied. Everyone shared a portion of the work. It was reasonable to say that the workload had already been reduced to its fullest extent, yet each of them still had to go on duty before dawn daily. Come afternoon, when the bureau was dismissed, the Cabinet members would remain there most times, discussing business and evaluating memorials. The toil involved in all of this could not be fully described in a mere sentence.
In spite of numerous criticisms, Wan An was not the Head Vizier that typical imagined he was; where as long as he flattered the Emperor every day, then did nothing, he could sit stably in his Head Vizier’s position. Whenever the Cabinet officials were discussing political matters, the Head Vizier needed to supervise the discussion, as well as conduct summaries and come up with final policies when the others had unfinished talks and differing opinions. On some major matters, even if the other Cabinet members had evaluated them, the Head Vizier would still need to look it over again to verify that the conclusion was doable and without flaws.
Since the Emperor was honed in on cultivating to immortality over the government, the Cabinet’s responsibilities and workload had imperceptibly increased by a large amount. Following many policies being implemented, the instant the Court officials were all unhappy, they would believe it to be Cabinet’s responsibility. As the acting Head Vizier, Wan An had to bear even more accusations than the other members did.
These were all other aspects that Tang Fan had never seen before.
Formerly, when on the outside, he had always felt that the Wan party had nothing better to do other than make trouble for him all day long. Now that he had witnessed this with his own eyes, Wan An’s capability to be Head Vizier was not a pure reliance on toadying with not one good point to him; at the bare minimum, his organizational abilities were far stronger than anyone else’s.
Also, Tang Fan knew that the Wan party’s core was not actually Wan An. To be more specific, the reason why it could stand tall in the Chenghua Court without fall depended upon Consort Wan’s favor from the Emperor, to a large degree. Without her, there would be no party.
She never directly intervened in political affairs, but her influencing power was all over it. Its most direct manifestation was in her extreme unhappiness with the current Crown Prince, never not hoping that he would be replaced, thus making the Wan party forever oppose the Prince.
All those things, at most, only allowed Tang Fan to understand Wan An a bit better, which didn’t at all mean that he had a good impression of any of these people.
On account of Consort Wan’s enormous influential power, in order to strengthen his position, Wan An didn’t skimp on letting go of his civil official posturing to claim relation to the Wan siblings. Liu Ji was also tied by marriage to Consort Wan’s family, which firmly tied their interests to the Wan clan, acting in tandem with what it liked and loathed, completely losing their principles and magnanimity of Viziers. That was the real reason why everyone hated the Wan party, slandering Wan An and company behind their backs.
That was saying nothing of the fact that while the Cabinet was impressive to hear of, it was actually an even worse work environment than that of the Six Ministries. Everyone was crammed into the tiny Pavilion of Literary Profundity, with the tiny workrooms the Cabinet members used all connected to each other — it could not compare in the slightest to the bright, spacious bureau halls of the Minisitries.
Beyond that, Tang Fan held the concurrent position of Minister of Revenue. Not only did he have to deal with that pile of Cabinet stuff, but he also needed to find time to return to the Ministry every day, constantly busy.
It was fortunate that there were not many things that the Ministry needed him to judge at the moment, the majority of them being done by the Right Assistant Minister, Peng Yichun. Way back when Tang Fan had still been a Chief of the Ministry of Justice, the old gent had had a decent relationship with him, and after he had left, he had constantly kept in tough with him.
After returning to the capital and re-entering the Ministry of Justice, Peng Yichun’s support had been indispensable in him getting to work so quickly. Therefore, after entering the Cabinet, he had recommended for Peng Yichun to be the Minister of Justice, so that he could relieve himself from the unceasing work.
The Minister of Justice was not too important a position, so him having both it and entering the Cabinet was not something anyone objected to. A typical person holding two posts would probably never be happy enough, eager to never pass off power, and they especially happened to be in both the Cabinet and Ministries — yet Tang Fan hadn’t even warmed his seat in his Minister spot before he was rushing to suggest someone else to share the burden. Even Wang Zhi had to laugh at him not recognizing the fortune within a fortune.
Even with all that, the Cabinet meetings every three days still made Tang Fan’s head ache.
He wasn’t the only one, either; all of the Cabinet members felt the exact same way.
Like today, for example.
In the Pavilion’s discussion hall, the Head Vizier sat at the head seat, and every else sat in two rows.
Seeing the hourglass reach the time of the Monkey,(3-5p) which meant that the discussion was about done, everyone inwardly let out a sigh of relief, think to themselves that they ought to be able to get off duty on time today.
Then, Wan An said, “There are two more final things that I want to talk over with all of you.”
Hearing that, they all subconsciously straightened up, peacefully awaiting the Head Vizier’s next words.
“The Pavilion has four workrooms. Formerly, there were not so many members, leaving one room per person. Now that there are so many more people, it seemed a bit crowded. His Majesty is compassionate; after hearing of this, he said that he couldn’t bear to watch his Viziers work hard for the nation yet have such a tiny workspace, and that he was going to allocate funds from the internal treasury to renovate and expand the Pavilion.”
When he said that, everyone couldn’t help but liven up, all nodding.
“His Majesty has a kind heart, so busy, yet still never forgetting to empathize with his subjects,” Liu Ji picked up. “He really has us officials’ unending gratitude!”
The Pavilion had been constructed in the Yongle era, formerly used for book storage. Later on, an additional function came, turning it into the confidential vital area for Cabinet members to go on duty and work in.
Coming to today, even with the ever-increasing power of the Cabinet, the Pavilion was still that tiny Pavilion. As of right now, there were seven Cabinet members: Wan An, Liu Ji, Peng Hua, Yin Zhi, Liu Jian, Xu Pu, and Tang Fan. Aside from one room for the Head Vizier, everyone else — Vice Vizier Liu Ji included — had to have two to a room.
Outsiders only knew of the Viziers’ flair, not of their misery. If they could see the Pavilion’s workrooms, they would probably be speechless.
This was why the Emperor’s words really touched everyone’s hearts. Who didn’t hope for a bit more roomy workspace? Their eyes all shone brightly, awaiting Wan An’s follow-up.
Wan An purposefully paused for a short moment, waiting for them to absorb those words, then continued. “However, all sorts of spendings are needed nowadays, leaving the internal treasury not with abundance. We, as subjects, should share His Majesty’s worries, rather than add frost to the snow. Therefore, I told him that there was no need to give funds from the internal treasury, but to instead get funds from the national treasury for renovations.”
Everyone: “…”
See, this was one of the reasons why people found Wan An hateable.
The money in the internal treasury was separate from the national treasury. The Emperor could use the internal treasury any time he willed it, but if he wanted to use money from the national treasury, he would need to obtain the Court’s consent.
The Great Ming’s treasury was counted annually. What ought to allocated for the Ministry of War’s funding, and what ought to be put away for disaster, left not much thereafter. Even thinking of taking money out to fix up the Pavilion was pretty much impossible.
Even though Cabinet members stayed in the Pavilion, it was ultimately a construction inside the palace. Reasonably, it should be fixed up with the internal treasury’s money, but past Emperors had rarely brought that problem up. The current Emperor had, with great difficulty, been made aware and wanted to pay for it himself, yet Wan An had declined it.
Listen, you wanting to curry favor with the Son of Heaven is fine, but you pulled all of us into the water by rejecting a hard-to-come-by boon — can you maybe not make everyone hate you?
The most depressing part was that nobody could object — they would have to say he had been right to reject it, because throughout all the ages, there had never been record of a subject forcing the Emperor to pay for renovations of his workplace.
While they all had odd expression, they couldn’t speak, mixed feelings in their minds as they ‘paid respects’ to Wan An who-knew-how-many times.
Wan An looked at his surroundings. “What? Do you all believe that to not be right?”
He was waiting for somebody to jump out and say it wasn’t, so that he could give them the cap of dishonesty and complain of him before the Emperor in passing.
What a real pity it was that everyone present was a bit on the cooler side than others, when it came to personality. Even if it was uncomfortable to be in those cramped workrooms, they were determined to not be the bird that stuck its head out.
Even Liu Ji laughed, saying, “Yuanweng, you said as much that as officials, we should share His Majesty’s burden. How could we add to his troubles? What was the second thing you wanted to speak of?”
Wan An lightly coughed. “The second matter is also related to money. His Majesty wants to repair the Palace of Esteemed Realness and Longevity.”
That ‘Longevity Palace’ was actually a Daoist monastery. In the Yuan Dynasty, it had been equally as famed as White Cloud Monastery, but the latter was all that was left. During the war at Yuan’s end, the Longevity Palace had gradually become abandoned, and was now a grassy field under the Supervisory of Royal Steeds’ control.
The Emperor wanting rebuild it on a whim had to have a reason, and no one here needed to ask to know that Li Zisheng’s instigation had been involved.
Following the Emperor’s poor health, he had grown more and more obsessed with magic. This wasn’t something that had happened over a day or two. What those on top liked, those below would have all the more fervor for; people like Li Zisheng and Zhao Yuzhi had received re-use because of this, even getting arranged into important spots, like the Office of Transmissions.
There were no lack of colluders in the Cabinet nowadays, too. The reason Peng Hua was able to sit here was because he got on Wan An’s connection through knowing Li Zisheng.
“Dare I ask, Yuanweng; why have I never heard His Majesty speak of this before?” Liu Ji asked.
“I just heard him bring it up when I went into the palace yesterday.”
Liu Ji smiled. “How the internal treasury’s money is used is for His Majesty to decide. If he wants to use it for the Longevity Palace, we, as subjects, cannot stop him. I’m unsure of why you specially wanted to talk this over with us?”
Wan An inwardly scolded him for pretending to be a sly old fox, a genial expression still on his face. “His Majesty meant that rebuilding the Palace is not a simple matter, and will be a huge task. The money in the internal treasury might not be enough. That is why I wanted to ask what all of you think. Youzhi, you head the Ministry of Revenue — as you see it, how should we respond to His Majesty?”
In other words, the Emperor wanted to use money from the national treasury to build his Daoist monastery, but was too embarrassed to say so, so he had made Wan An ask the Cabinet for its opinion in a roundabout way.
As soon as Wan An spoke, everyone looked to Liu Ji.
Liu Ji didn’t want to agree, because he was valuing his reputation all the more; if he nodded and allowed the Emperor to take money from the Ministry of Revenue for his monastery, he, the Cabinet member in charge of that Ministry, would be chastised to death by censors. However, if he didn’t agree to it, he would offend the Emperor.
Thinking of that, he said with a smile, “I may be in charge of the Ministry of Revenue, but this is a greatly important matter. I alone don’t have the final say; it’s up to everyone here to decide.”
Wan An was not happy at all about his fate-defying, shirking attitude. “How much money does the national treasury have at the moment.”
“Less than a million.”
“That’s no small amount. His Majesty has been economic in everything since his ascension, never doing anything to waste resources. Now, he has the seldom want to rebuild a palace monastery. That’s no big thing; can you not give out five-hundred-thousand taels?”
Liu Ji smiled painfully. “His Majesty’s affairs are his subject’s affairs. If the Longevity Palace could be rebuilt using that much, what reason would I have to disagree? However, I must let you know that that money has long been reserved for the Ministry of War, which is said to be for buying the Northern garrisons’ winter clothes. That isn’t my call, either.”
Liu Jian, head of the Ministry of War, spoke up at that. “Yes, that’s true. Yuanweng, those five-hundred-thousand taels were agreed upon with Lord Liu half a year ago.”
Wan An said nothing, face dark. Peng Hua ended up saying, “Yuanweng, why not let everyone go home to think it over, and we’ll speak on it tomorrow?”
Getting his prestige refuted by Liu Ji and Liu Jian in quick turn, Wan An was pretty unhappy. He looked over the crowd, threw out the phrase “Then the meeting is adjourned,” and left in a huff.
Meetings like this were without both efficiency and meaning. As Tang Fan occupied the last seat, and also headed the most unremarkable Ministry of Justice, it was not his place to express any opinions under typical circumstances. Seeing that everyone was leaving, he also packed up his things and walked out after Liu Jian.
Once out the palace gate, Liu Jian stepped away first. Seeing that this was a rare day where he had gotten off work early, Tang Fan wanted to make a detour to that usual wonton stall, go buy some scallion youbing, then go home, but when he had gone just a few steps away, he heard someone call him. “Solon Tang!”
Tang Fan turned to see; it was Wei Mao. The other hurried over in just a few steps.
“I say, Old Wei; others calling me Solon Tang is fine, but why are you doing it, too? It makes me almost too embarrassed to respond to you!” Tang Fan said with a laugh.
Wei Mao laughed along with him. “This is only way to look respectful. I won’t hide it from you; this lowly one came here on Eunuch Wang’s orders. He said that he’s inviting you to eat at Immortal Cloud in the evening, so after you get off of work, you shouldn’t leave, but go right there to wait for him.”
On any other day, Tang Fan would definitely get shiny-eyed, but he said this time, “I’m sorry, but I have to go home for dinner tonight, or else the Hedong lion[1] in my home will get mad and make me kneel on the washboard!”
Wei Mao was taken aback, thinking, You’re not married; where could a Hedong lion come from?
Then, his thoughts turned around, and he went speechless.
Before he could react, Tang Fan had already boarded a sedan chair and left.
