The number one sycophant of the Ming Dynasty

Chen Han sat at the table, his pen moving swiftly, and directly split the original list into two parts.

The first document clearly states: "List of Offerings for the Winter Solstice Sacrifice at the Prince Yu's Mansion".

All the sacrificial animals (cattle, sheep, and pigs) that were previously considered excessive, as well as jade, silk, and ritual objects, were included here.

The use of this standard for the sacrifices of the princes was entirely in accordance with the regulations of the "Collected Statutes of the Ming Dynasty," without exceeding the prescribed limits in the slightest.

The second document, listed separately, is titled "List of Offerings Presented by the Prince Yu's Palace to His Majesty at the Western Garden for Prayer and Blessing."

All the extra delicacies, medicinal herbs, and utensils that had crossed the line were dismantled and moved here.

The entire process was conducted according to the regulations of Taoist rituals, and even the quantity of each offering was chosen to match the auspicious Taoist numbers "nine" and "thirty-six" that Jiajing valued most.

At the end of the list, he even added a sentence: "Your subject Zaiji prays day and night for Your Majesty's health, eternal bliss, and longevity."

Two lists, one for loyalty and the other for respect for the emperor, are both within the established rules, and not a single transgression can be found.

This not only reinforced Prince Yu's image as a filial son, but also precisely targeted Jiajing's current obsession with cultivating immortality and praying for blessings, leaving Yan Song and his cronies with no room for criticism. Who would dare say that praying for the emperor's well-being was an overstepping of the bounds?

Most importantly, the approval process for Si Yan Si was also perfectly aligned.

But to be honest, Chen Han felt something was off after he finished making the changes.

The winter sacrifice to Heaven was arguably the most important sacrificial activity, especially for Emperor Jiajing, who revered Taoism, and could not tolerate any mistakes.

The offerings used in the festival have strict requirements; not a bit more or less is acceptable.

On the surface, Prince Yu's list seemed fine, but for an official like the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, which provided offerings and materials for sacrificial ceremonies year after year, the problem was immediately apparent.

However, it's highly unlikely that only people from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices could spot the problem.

The Prince Yu's mansion has many experts. Just look at Prince Yu's tutors Xu Jie, Gao Gong, Zhang Juzheng, as well as Chen Yiqin and Yin Shidan. They are all outstanding people. How could they not see the problem?

These are top-tier politicians; they couldn't possibly be unaware of this.

Chen Han looked down at the list and felt uneasy. Could this be a trap set for Prince Jing, that is, the Yan faction?

Sigh, never mind! Saving my life is the priority.

Zheng Dianli, watching from the side, gaped wider and wider, his hands trembling: "Supervisor Chen! This...this...it's done?!"

"Otherwise what?" Chen Han put down his pen and blew on the ink.

He looked up at the sun; there was still an hour before Shenshi (3-5 PM). He picked up the two lists, got up, and walked out.

"Supervisor Chen, where are you going?"

"Go to the Shanggong Bureau and find Headmaster Shen." Chen Han didn't stop walking.

Zheng, the clerk, turned pale: "Supervisor Chen! That's the Shanggong Bureau! Do you think we lowly officials from the outer court can just go there like that?!"

"Not going? Waiting to be tied up by Liu Shuzheng and taken to the cabinet at Shenshi (3-5 PM) to report to Grand Secretary Yan?" Chen Han turned around and raised an eyebrow.

Zheng Dianli's lips trembled slightly, then he suddenly pulled a small cloth bag from his sleeve and stuffed it into Chen Han's hand: "Supervisor Chen, this is three taels of silver. Take it with you... and use it to bribe the old women in the inner court. It's better than not bribing them at all."

Chen Han looked down at the worn-out cloth bag, then at Zheng Dianli's reddened eyes, and instead of pushing it back, he patted Zheng's shoulder and said, "Don't worry."

……

Half an hour later, outside the duty room of the Director of the Imperial Household Department.

The palace walls were higher than Chen Han had imagined.

Withered vines climbed the dusty brick walls, and two young palace maids in light green vests stood under the eaves, looking at him as if he were a stray cat that had wandered in by mistake.

Chen Han handed over the sign and stood properly under the eaves, his back straight and his eyes calm.

The sign that was handed in disappeared without a trace.

One cup of tea, two cups of tea, the wind under the corridor grew colder and colder, a palace maid carried a tea tray in and out three times, but no one came to call her.

Chen Han knew perfectly well that Shen Zhiyu was deliberately keeping him at arm's length.

It wasn't a deliberate attempt to make things difficult; it was a test.

Let's see if this lowly eighth-rank official is worth her meeting.

In his past life, he waited for leaders at the county government gate every day, often for an hour or two. He knew these rules very well.

Two cups of tea have passed.

Finally, a clear, cold female voice came from inside: "Let him in."

Chen Han straightened his official robes and stepped inside.

The duty room was quiet, with a tall pile of documents on the desk.

A woman dressed in a light blue round-necked official robe sat behind a desk, her black hair tied up with a jade hairpin. She had an oval face, and her eyebrows and eyes were like distant mountains shrouded in mist, exuding a cool and aloof air. She was Shen Zhiyu, the sixth-rank official in charge of the Imperial Secretariat.

She looked up at Chen Han, her eyes filled with scrutiny.

This list from the Prince Yu's residence has been stuck with her for three days.

She despised Prince Yu's cowardice and incompetence, as well as the group of useless and incompetent officials around him.

In order to gain a reputation for benevolence and filial piety in the succession struggle, he pushed his subordinates out to take the blame, which also put her in the spotlight.

Approving it is one thing, not approving it is another.

If this drags on any longer, the West Garden will start asking questions. Then Yan Song's men will use them to their advantage, and she, a sixth-rank female official, won't even know how she died.

She had originally thought that a flustered and incoherent minor official would arrive.

Unexpectedly, the supervisor in front of him, who was of the eighth rank, was neither humble nor arrogant, respectful but not obsequious. After being left hanging for nearly half an hour, he showed no sign of impatience.

Upon entering, I bowed respectfully and handed over the list with both hands.

"This humble servant, Chen Han, Supervisor of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, greets Headmaster Shen. I have re-verified and reorganized the list of offerings for the Winter Solstice at the Prince Yu's residence in accordance with regulations, and have come to present it to Headmaster Shen for review."

Shen Zhiyu didn't take it, and said calmly, "I've already sent this form back three times. It doesn't comply with the regulations, so there's no need to look at it again."

"President Shen, you may wish to take a look first." Chen Han said calmly, "This humble servant can guarantee that this list does not exceed the prescribed limits in the slightest. It conforms to both ancestral rules and the Emperor's will."

Shen Zhiyu raised an eyebrow and finally reached out to take it.

She read very slowly.

I flipped to the first one and paused for a moment;

I turned to the second one and stopped.

"Praying for blessings?" She raised her eyes to look at Chen Han. "You're using Taoist ritual practices to offer sacrifices to Prince Yu?"

There was no questioning in his tone, but rather a hint of surprise.

Chen Han felt a slight sense of relief; she understood.

"Yes." Chen Han bowed slightly. "His Highness Prince Yu is very filial and wants to pray for His Majesty's well-being. I have only found a proper way for His Highness to do so."

"This list allows for separate rituals for worshipping Heaven and prayers for blessings; each follows its own rules, and no one gets in anyone's way."

Shen Zhiyu didn't reply, and looked down at it again.

The duty room was so quiet that you could hear the occasional popping of embers in the charcoal brazier.

She knew better than anyone the value of this list.

It's not just about compliance; it's about paving the way out for everyone.

She can criticize openly and honestly without taking any responsibility;

Prince Yu gained a reputation for filial piety, and Yan Song could not find any fault with him.

Even the emperor could only be pleased when he saw it.

A low-ranking official of the eighth grade was able to break up a deadlock like this.

She looked up at Chen Han again.

This person, though young, showed no trace of youthful impetuosity in his eyes, only the unwavering certainty of someone who had seen through the rules.

The sense of proportion is just right; too much and it becomes obsequious, too little and it becomes arrogant.

Having spent so many years in the inner court, she had seen the uprightness of the Hanlin Academy Censor and the shrewdness of seasoned officials.

But I've never seen anyone who understands the rules so well, and who can pave the way for everyone so steadily.

"How long have you been at the Guanglu Temple?" she suddenly asked.

"Return to Shen, the head of the bureau, for three months."

Shen Zhiyu nodded and said nothing more.

She picked up a pen, wrote her approval on the list, stamped it with Si Yansi's seal, and handed a copy back to Chen Han.

"Supervisor Chen is meticulous and handles matters properly; he is sure to have a bright future."

This statement is a clear indication of goodwill.

Chen Han accepted the list with both hands and bowed respectfully: "Thank you for your guidance, Manager Shen. I will take my leave now."

He turned and walked out of the Shanggong Bureau.

survived.

First hurdle passed.

Not only did they manage to shirk all responsibility for the execution, but they also managed to get in touch with Shen Zhiyu, the head of the Si Yan Si clan.

He looked up and glanced in the direction of the West Garden:

In his past life, he cleaned up the messes of county-level leaders; in this life, he cleans up the messes of princes, and he also has to be wary of that old fox Yan Song biting him at any time.

So, I was transported to the Ming Dynasty just to become a sycophant?

He glanced down at the list in his hand, which was stamped with a large vermilion seal, and a smile crept onto his lips.

It's okay.

A sycophant is a sycophant.

In the Jiajing era, being able to survive, climb the ranks, and live well was more important than anything else.

Moreover, I never flatter people by kneeling or sucking up.

It's about standing there, scratching everyone's itch perfectly, paving the way for everyone's success, and making everyone feel that this person is useful.

What's this called?

This is called the survival philosophy of an office manager; it works just as well even in the context of the Ming Dynasty.

Besides, Emperor Jiajing, the riddle master, was fond of sycophants.

Yan Song, Xu Jie, and Yan Shifan, the weightlifting champion of the Ming Dynasty—which of these masters of Qingci (a type of classical Chinese poetry) wasn't a sycophant?

If they can do it, so can I...