The Ming Dynasty: Starting with Emperor Chongzhen's crackdown on factionalism

Chen Zhiyuan's memorial was submitted to the Office of Transmission before noon on March 17.

This memorial, titled "Memorial on Border Affairs in Liaodong and Clarification of Doubts in the Yuan Case," consists of twenty-eight pages. The official script is neat and clear, with no alterations whatsoever.

Fortunately, the original owner had indeed been to Liaodong, although it was only a brief visit, but the geographical situation was observed with her own eyes.

In addition, given his previous life's research on the military affairs of the late Ming Dynasty, it wasn't too difficult for him to piece together a relatively credible report.

When he got up from his office in the Hanlin Academy, he put the memorial into a yellow silk envelope, sealed it with sealing wax, and stamped it with the official seal of the Hanlin Academy editor.

His colleague Huang Daozhou watched his calm movements, hesitant to speak.

"Brother Yichen..." Huang Daozhou finally spoke.

"There are more than ten memorials from the court impeaching you."

Chen Zhiyuan held the sealed memorial in his hands and simply nodded upon hearing this.

"Thank you for informing me, Brother Youxuan."

"Aren't you afraid?" Huang Daozhou asked in a low voice.

Chen Zhiyuan looked out the window.

The old locust tree in the courtyard of Hanlin Academy has just sprouted new buds, which are light green in the afternoon sun.

He knew that this was springtime in Beijing in the third year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign, and also the fourteenth spring before the end of the Ming Dynasty.

"Fear is useless," he said. "What's meant to happen will happen."

He carried the memorial out of the office, walked through the long corridors of the Hanlin Academy, and headed towards the Office of Transmission.

The officials he encountered along the way all looked at him strangely; some avoided him from a distance, while others whispered among themselves.

Chen Zhiyuan kept his eyes straight ahead and walked with a steady gait.

The official on duty at the Office of Transmission was an old clerk in his fifties, whose fingers trembled slightly as he received the memorial.

He had obviously heard about the memorial presented to the emperor and had seen the flood of impeachment memorials that were now heading to the Qianqing Palace.

"Editor Chen..." the old official said in a low voice, "Is this memorial for His Majesty?"

"Yes. His Majesty has ordered me to present it within three days," Chen Zhiyuan said.

The old official glanced at the official seal on the wax seal, then at Chen Zhiyuan's calm face, and finally put the memorial into the wooden box to be presented to the emperor, and neatly recorded it in the register.

"At 2:45 noon on March 17, Chen Zhiyuan, a compiler of the Hanlin Academy, presented a memorial entitled 'Analysis of Doubts Regarding Border Affairs in Liaodong and the Yuan Case,' which consisted of 28 pages."

After watching the old clerk finish registering the documents, Chen Zhiyuan bowed respectfully and turned to leave.

He knew that the memorial would not reach Zhu Youjian until tomorrow at the earliest.

According to procedure, the memorials received by the Office of Transmission today must first be classified and summarized, and then delivered to the Emperor in batches by the eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

The memorials impeaching him should already be on Zhu Youjian's desk by now.

Back at the Hanlin Academy, Chen Zhiyuan continued to organize historical manuscripts.

On his desk lay a pile of drafts of the Veritable Records of the Wanli Reign, which needed to be checked for years and supplemented with details.

This is a tedious task that requires patience.

Chen Zhiyuan picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, and began to proofread word by word.

Time passed little by little.

At the beginning of Shenshi (3-5 PM), before the bell for the end of the Hanlin Academy's duty had rung, hurried footsteps could be heard outside the academy.

Four elite guards burst into the room. The leader was a centurion, dressed in a flying fish robe and with an embroidered spring knife at his waist.

His gaze swept around the room and landed on Chen Zhiyuan.

Which one is Chen Zhiyuan?

The other editors in the room all stopped writing.

Huang Daozhou stood up, wanting to say something, but Chen Zhiyuan stopped him with a look.

Chen Zhiyuan put down his pen and stood up.

"That is I."

The centurion took out a roll of yellow silk from his bosom, unfolded it, and began to read.

"Imperial Edict: Chen Zhiyuan, compiler of the Hanlin Academy, has made unwarranted comments on state affairs, interfered in military matters, and spread heresies to mislead the public. He is hereby dismissed from his post and imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice's death row cell to await trial. So be it."

The room was deathly silent.

Chen Zhiyuan knelt down to receive the imperial decree.

"Your subject obeys the decree."

He stood up, took off his black gauze hat and placed it on his desk, then took off his blue official robe, folded it and placed it next to the hat.

His movements were calm and composed, without the slightest sign of panic.

The centurion looked at him, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

He arrested many people; some cried out that they were innocent, some collapsed to the ground, and some cursed loudly.

It's rare to see someone as calm as Chen Zhiyuan.

"Editor Chen, please." Baihu stepped aside to make way.

Chen Zhiyuan bowed to his colleagues in the office, said nothing, and followed the Imperial Guards out.

Huang Daozhou chased after Chen Zhiyuan to the gate and watched his figure disappear outside the gate of Hanlin Academy for a long time without moving.

The Ministry of Justice's death row cell was located on the west side of the capital, near the city wall.

Chen Zhiyuan was escorted down the long street. The people on the street kept their distance and whispered among themselves as they watched the official, who was only wearing a white undershirt and being escorted by the Imperial Guards.

The death row cell door was made of heavy ironwood, and it made a piercing creaking sound when pushed open.

The cell was dark and damp, filled with the smell of mold and excrement.

On both sides of the corridor were rows of small cells, and some dark shadows were wriggling behind the wooden bars.

Chen Zhiyuan was pushed into the innermost cell.

The cell was less than ten feet square, with moldy straw on the floor and a chamber pot in the corner.

There was a small iron window high up on the wall, letting in a little dim light.

The prison door closed and the iron lock fell.

Chen Zhiyuan sat down on the straw, leaning against the cold stone wall.

He closed his eyes and began to recall the contents of the memorial.

He knew Zhu Youjian would see it.

At that moment, in the Qianqing Palace, Zhu Youjian did indeed see that memorial.

It was personally delivered by the Grand Eunuch Wang Chengen.

"Your Majesty, this is Chen Zhiyuan's memorial."

Wang Chengen placed the yellow silk envelope on the imperial desk.

"The Ministry of Rites received it at noon, and the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs just approved it and forwarded it to us."

Zhu Youjian was reading a memorial from the Ministry of War requesting funds for Liaodong when he heard this and looked up.

"Chen Zhiyuan?" he sneered. "His memorial was delivered quickly. Where is he?"

"He has been imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice's death row cell as ordered," Wang Chengen said in a low voice.

Zhu Youjian nodded, his gaze falling on the yellow silk cover.

He didn't want to watch it in the first place—what was there to see in the sophistry of a treacherous official?

But as if possessed, he reached out and picked it up.

The envelope is thick and feels heavy in your hand.

Open it, and inside is a stack of papers, with neat handwriting, densely packed.

Zhu Youjian frowned.

He thought it would be a flowery article, like the kind that people in the Hanlin Academy often wrote, full of allusions and fancy but impractical.

But the very first sentence stunned him.

"Your humble servant Chen Zhiyuan, a compiler of the Hanlin Academy, respectfully submits this memorial: In order to present a factual account of the situation in Liaodong and analyze the case of Yuan Chonghuan."

There was no "humbly begging Your Majesty's wise judgment" or "your subject is filled with fear and trepidation," it was just that straightforward.

Zhu Youjian continued reading.

The section on "Defense Situation in Liaodong" is written in great detail.

The extent of damage to the Great Wall beacon towers, the proportion of abandoned military settlements, the troop deployment along the Ningjin defense line... every figure is frighteningly detailed.

Zhu Youjian's brows furrowed more and more tightly.

"The Jizhou section of the Great Wall, from Shimenzhai to Malanyu, is 240 li long."

"I inspected thirty-seven beacon towers along the way. Eleven were intact, eighteen were partially destroyed, and eight were completely ruined."

"According to veteran soldiers, the quota for each garrison is five men, but in reality, there are three more and one less, and some are old and weak men who are just filling in."

"The military settlements inside Shanhaiguan originally had 78,000 mu of farmland."

"I have investigated the nearby villages and found that less than 30% of the land is actually cultivated."

"The rest were either abandoned or privately occupied and sublet by officers of the garrison. Three or four out of ten soldiers deserted."

"The defenses of Ningyuan and Jinzhou are strong and well-equipped; this is the truth."

"However, the defense line is too long, stretching for four hundred li from Ningyuan to Shanhaiguan."

"When Yuan Chonghuan was in charge of the army, he had about 40,000 soldiers under his command, who were divided to guard various cities, with some having as many as 8,000 and others as few as 3,000."

"If the Later Jin concentrate their forces to attack a single point, the defending army will inevitably be outnumbered and outmatched."

He had never seen these details in the Ministry of War's reports.

The Ministry of War only said that the defenses were "tight" and that the soldiers were "fighting with their lives," and at most said that there were "occasional oversights."

No one ever told him that so many beacon towers along the Great Wall of Ji were destroyed, and that 70% of the military settlements were abandoned.

If this is true...