My life is like walking on thin ice

Chapter 532 No way!

There are many different opinions about the Fengshan ceremony in later generations.

Some say this was an important way to demonstrate the emperor's achievements, and it was the most effective and fastest way to carry out political propaganda in the feudal era.

This argument is not without merit.

After all, in the feudal era when transportation relied mainly on walking, communication relied mainly on shouting, public personas relied mainly on exaggeration, and achievements were often exaggerated, political propaganda has always been very difficult.

The kind of success that Emperor Taizong achieved, where he effortlessly made the world recognize him as a "living saint" and a "renowned ruler throughout the ages," was both too time-consuming and too slow to yield results.

Finally, and most importantly: it's something you can only encounter by chance, not something you can seek out.

Even if you were truly a second Emperor Wen of Han, if the people of the world were slow to realize this, or if they didn't consider your good fortune as their own, then there would be nothing you could do.

To be honest, Liu Rong had actually done some research on how his grandfather, Emperor Taizong, earned the reputation of being a "living saint."

The final conclusion left Liu Rong somewhat speechless.

To Liu Rong's surprise, Emperor Taizong Xiaowen was remembered by the people for the first time and gained a positive impression because of his frugality.

Moreover, Emperor Taizong's frugality was unlike that of a certain old man in later generations who wore no more than eight sets of clothes for all four seasons—Emperor Taizong was truly stingy and knew how to manage his finances.

How exaggerated is it?

Let's just put it that way.

Emperor Xiaowen of Han, Liu Heng, reigned for twenty-seven years. When he died, he only had one formal suit, the crown, which was completely unpatched!

This was because the Imperial Household Department was 'principled' enough. No matter how much Emperor Taizong threatened or tempted them, they were unwilling to comply with Emperor Taizong's wishes and did not allow patches to appear on Emperor Taizong's formal dragon robe.

The emperor wore clothes with patches, and there were layers upon layers of patches—isn't that exaggerated?

Not finished yet.

Aside from his clothing, Emperor Taizong's daily life was so frugal that it would put emperors and nobles throughout history to shame.

As an emperor, Emperor Taizong's daily meals consisted of four dishes and one soup.

It wasn't even the four dishes and one soup that later generations understood it to be. Instead, it consisted of a dish of pickled vegetables, some meat sauce, a seasonal vegetable dish, and a dish of roasted meat or minced meat, making up the 'four dishes'.

The soup is mostly tea soup, but occasionally it will be a mixed vegetable soup.

The main dish is a bowl of millet porridge.

With such a standard of dining, let alone the emperor or the nobles—even a decent merchant wouldn't eat so shabbily.

Even farmers have rice porridge and pickled vegetables for a meal.

In addition to his own frugality, Emperor Taizong also had an almost obsessive requirement for his concubines and officials to be 'diligent, frugal and simple'.

As the saying goes: King Chu loved slender waists, so many starved to death in the palace; Emperor Han favored cruel officials, so many people died unjustly.

In Emperor Taizong's harem, the concubines, ladies, and beauties all wore no makeup, did not wear long robes, and competed to raise silkworms and weave cloth in order to be as self-reliant as possible.

In the minds of later generations, the palace intrigues that were often filled with conspiracies and slander were replaced by a competition among the concubines in Emperor Taizong's harem. It was a contest of who could be more ruthless with their bare face, whose skirt was shorter, and whose jewelry was less—in short, who was more frugal.

The concubines and ladies of the palace engaged in infighting by attacking each other and bribing each other's maids to hide gold ornaments or similar items in each other's jewelry boxes.

This proves the saying of later generations: the most realistic palace intrigues are often carried out in the simplest way.

The concubines in the harem were relatively easy to deal with—after all, for feudal emperors, this was merely a matter of lifestyle.

To put it more bluntly, for a unified feudal regime in China, unless it was a place of extravagance and debauchery, the emperor's harem, no matter how luxurious, wouldn't cost much money; and no matter how frugal, it wouldn't save much money either.

Therefore, what is truly noteworthy about Emperor Taizong's reign is that this spirit of frugality spread throughout the officialdom.

In the imperial harem, no matter how frugal the concubines were, there was still a limit.

The skirt does not drag on the ground, but it shouldn't have patches.

She is indeed without makeup, but she is not truly without makeup;

Silkworm rearing and cloth weaving are real activities, but not everyone has the skill and ingenuity to do so.

However, in official circles, officials went to extreme lengths to curry favor with Emperor Taizong in terms of frugality.

On a personal level—the official robes were patched and mended, and the food was simple and plain; there were established rules and conventions governing these matters.

Most importantly, at the level of official business, officials dared not repair broken government offices or replace old vehicles, leading to a strange trend in officialdom where "the more you look like a beggar, the more glorious it is."

Especially the county and prefectural governments, even if the old walls have collapsed, the local officials do not dare to stop them at all, and even proudly say: Look, aren't we frugal?
We'd rather endure wind and sun than undertake any major construction projects!
Travel was monotonous, with each person carrying a horse-drawn carriage that was likely to fall apart at any moment, and most likely registered and put on the road during the reign of Emperor Gaozu, or even during the reign of Emperor Qin Shi Huang.

This almost obsessive frugality stands in stark contrast to the rampant corruption and bribery that swept through, or rather, flourished during the reign of Emperor Taizong, creating a bizarre and perplexing situation.

—Are officials practicing frugality while simultaneously lining their own pockets?
Patches were sewn onto the outside of the official robe, and bribes were hidden in the sleeves?
On one hand, they considered being poor as glorious, neglecting government repairs and not replacing their carriages and horses; on the other hand, they flirted with wealthy merchants and high-ranking families, indulging in drinking and eating meat at every meal, and living extravagantly.
These two are clearly opposite, almost impossible to coexist at two extremes, or even 'antonyms'.

But during the reign of Emperor Taizong, all of this became a reality.

On the surface, officials compete to see who is more frugal, whose official robes are more worn, and whose carriages are more old; they are all working harder than the other.

But when it comes to getting paid and doing things, they're all incredibly shrewd.

To put it bluntly, it's a case of formalistic frugality and rampant, pragmatic corruption.

Logically speaking, this kind of superficial frugality is actually more disgusting than blatant corruption.

Such an event, occurring during the reign of Emperor Taizong Xiaowen, would at least have caused Emperor Taizong to be utterly disgraced, if not completely condemned, and thus be condemned by the entire nation.

But the truth is: it was precisely this bizarre situation that made Emperor Taizong truly begin to gain the recognition and love of the people.

The reason for this is not hard to understand.

Firstly, this situation only existed among officials; Emperor Taizong himself was genuinely frugal.

This inevitably gave rise to a simple sentiment among the people: "His Majesty is indeed a benevolent ruler; the bad ones are the officials below." Secondly, although this situation was disgusting, it also, to some extent, unexpectedly reduced the survival pressure on the lower classes and improved their living conditions.

Because corruption is never a single concept, but rather two separate categories: embezzlement and bribery.

Corruption usually refers to embezzling public funds, putting special funds that should be used for people's livelihood into the pockets of officials, directly harming the interests of the people at the bottom.

Bribery, on the other hand, involves collusion between officials and businessmen, and mutual protection among officials. It involves the transfer of benefits to achieve purposes that are not permitted by the rules, indirectly harming the interests of ordinary people.

The most fundamental difference between the two is that the former uses public funds, while the latter involves the transfer of benefits between private individuals.

The former harms the grassroots more directly, and its dangers are greater and more significant.

The latter's harm to the general public, especially those at the bottom of society, is mostly indirect and relatively less severe.

During the reign of Emperor Taizong, the almost magical formalism of frugality and the realistic corruption made it nearly impossible for officials to 'embezzle' in an unexpected way.

—The prerequisite for embezzlement is the availability of public funds and special funds.

However, during the reign of Emperor Taizong, officials throughout the country regarded how much public funds they could save as their most important political achievement.

Moreover, Emperor Taizong was frugal and simple, not only in terms of food, clothing and daily necessities—he was also known for being stingy at the national level.

Projects involving building bridges, paving roads, or constructing buildings were almost impossible to approve under Emperor Taizong's approval.

These special funds, which should have been entrusted to the bureaucratic system to improve people's livelihoods, were mostly given away by Emperor Taizong to specific individuals and directly handed over to the people at the bottom of society.

This significantly reduced the survival pressure on people at the bottom of society and dramatically increased their happiness.

Furthermore, with virtually no public projects, officials have almost no opportunity to embezzle public funds. This makes bribery among officials a matter of exchanging favors between the elite and the wealthy, rather than officials using the interests of the common people to exchange for their own.

Take a very simple example.

A county often has projects for the construction of public infrastructure such as water conservancy and people's livelihood, which naturally involves a large amount of public funds.

In such circumstances, it is possible that businessmen and officials bribe local bureaucrats in order to get a share of these public projects and undermine the state to enrich themselves.

But in a county that has never had, and is unlikely to have in the future, any public projects, what would be the purpose of businessmen and officials bribing the local magistrate?
They were either seeking promotions or asking the government for favors.

Compared to the former, the latter's harm to the lower classes is negligible—at least it cannot be directly felt.

Furthermore, the prevailing value system in this era, which already had a high tolerance for bribery, made the bribery and corruption that arose during the reign of Emperor Taizong seem even less significant.

Ultimately, for ordinary people, it is already a remarkable achievement for officials to be busy with their own petty squabbles instead of figuring out how to exploit the people.

Thus, through his personal lifestyle and the frugal style that extended to his administrative style, Emperor Taizong unexpectedly reformed the Han dynasty's official system, revealing his innate talent as a "living sage."

Of course, frugality alone, and simply preventing officials from embezzling public funds, is far from enough to make a feudal emperor a rare and unparalleled emperor in history.

In Liu Rong's view, what was most admirable and praiseworthy about his grandfather was that, despite possessing astonishingly high political skills, he did not use them for "striving for good governance," but instead willingly devoted all his talents to buying time for the Han dynasty to develop—willing to play a supporting role.

There is a saying in later generations: Success does not have to be achieved by me, but I will definitely be a part of it.

In the context of the Han dynasty, or rather, the emperors of all dynasties since the Han dynasty, this statement is undoubtedly most appropriate when applied to Emperor Taizong.

For an emperor, it is rare to accept that he cannot achieve great goals or complete a major undertaking, and still be willing to plant fruit trees but not pick the fruit.

This is especially true for an exceptionally talented emperor, whose genius is so rare that it is one in a thousand years, and who has a high chance of succeeding as long as he sets his mind on something.

But for Emperor Taizong, this seemed to be no big deal.

Emperor Taizong accepted that he could not become the emperor who "achieved success in one battle," but could only be one of the "contributions of six generations." He did his best within his power.

Ultimately, he earned the praise of the world as a "living saint" and became a role model for many emperors in later generations. Emperor Taizong deserved all of this.

For Emperor Taizong, the Fengshan ceremony was essentially unnecessary.

Even if the Fengshan ceremony was the fastest and most effective form of political propaganda in the feudal era, it could never surpass the transcendent reputation of Emperor Taizong as a "living saint" in the hearts of the people.

As for Liu Rong, he had a different opinion on the Fengshan ceremony.

Everything has two sides.

For successful, truly capable, and accomplished emperors, the Fengshan ceremony was naturally a form of political propaganda, a political activity that could help the people of the world understand their emperor, their era, and their historical mission.

In Liu Rong's view, such political activities were indeed valuable.

However, there is a very awkward situation: truly capable and accomplished emperors usually do not need to use this method to flaunt or publicize their civil and military achievements.

Just like the First Emperor Ying Zheng, even though he never performed the Fengshan ceremony, everyone still recognized him as the First Emperor.

Just like Emperor Taizong, who never mentioned the Fengshan ceremony, yet it did not affect his status as a 'living saint' in the hearts of the people and a great emperor in the eyes of later generations.

For emperors who lack ability and achievements to perform the Fengshan ceremony, it undoubtedly undermines the prestige of the ceremony, destroys this form of political propaganda, and turns it into 'fake news' that emperors can use to distort the facts and glorify themselves.

Everyone surely knows which shameless person this is referring to.

From a personal perspective, Liu Rong's attitude towards the Fengshan ceremony was actually quite clear.

—If my achievements qualify me for the Fengshan ceremony, then I will no longer need to perform the Fengshan ceremony.

If my achievements are insufficient to warrant the Fengshan ceremony, then I must not shamelessly use it to glorify myself.

Therefore, even when scholars and intellectuals throughout the country unanimously advised Liu Rong to perform the Fengshan ceremony, Liu Rong's attitude remained unwavering.

Do not!
No!

I have only about a hundred or eighty sets of clothes for all four seasons. I'm so poor that I can't even afford to wear clothes. What kind of abdication is this?

No need to discuss it further!

Anyone who dares to mention the Fengshan ceremony again will have to pay for it!

Even if someone were to offer money, I would not perform the Fengshan ceremony!
(End of this chapter)