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

The Qianqing Palace was brightly lit with candles.

Zhu Youjian's fingers slowly caressed Chen Zhiyuan's memorial, the words seeming to carry a heavy weight, making it hard for him to breathe.

He suddenly raised his head, his gaze sharp as he looked at Wang Chengen: "Where is Chen Zhiyuan now?"

Wang Chengen bowed deeply, his voice extremely low: "Your Majesty, as ordered, he has been taken to the Ministry of Justice's death row cell to await trial."

Death row.

He recalled Chen Zhiyuan's words on the platform: "From this day forward, impeachment memorials will fall like snowflakes onto His Majesty's desk."

At the time, he only felt that this person was arrogant.

Why?

How could a seventh-rank editor accurately predict all of this?

Zhu Youjian's gaze swept over the stack of impeachment memorials on the left side of the imperial desk, and then looked at Chen Zhiyuan's thick memorial on the right.

He suddenly understood what Chen Zhiyuan meant—whenever Yuan Chonghuan was involved, the court officials would only use black-and-white terms like "loyal" or "treacherous," "meritorious" or "degenerate."

They argued, attacked each other, and tore each other apart.

But no one else did it like Chen Zhiyuan, who meticulously recorded how many beacon towers in Liaodong were damaged, how much of the military settlements were abandoned, and the actual number of soldiers stationed at each location.

Zhu Youjian reopened Chen Zhiyuan's memorial and carefully read through the section on "the actual situation of defense in Liaodong".

Those numbers were so specific that they didn't seem fabricated.

He reigned for three years and read countless memorials from the Ministry of War, the Ministry of Revenue, and local governors, but no one had ever written anything like this.

They would only say things like "defenses are still solid," "the morale of the army is good," and "land reclamation is gradually being restored," at most using vague terms like "five or six out of ten" or "most of the way through."

But Chen Zhiyuan wrote: Of the thirty-seven beacon towers, eleven were intact, eighteen were half-ruined, and eight were completely destroyed.

Zhu Youjian closed his eyes.

If these numbers are true, what does that mean?

This means that the Great Wall of Ji is already riddled with holes, that Huang Taiji's ability to break through the pass last year was not accidental, and that the Ming Dynasty's northern defenses have long been rendered ineffective.

Zhu Youjian suddenly opened his eyes. Does this prove that Chen Zhiyuan's "research" was useful?

Emperor Taizu Gao explicitly prohibited officials from easily going to the countryside because local officials often used inspections as a pretext to harass the people and extort bribes.

Such are the ancestral rules; how can they be easily changed?

Zhu Youjian picked up the memorial again, but this time he didn't look at the content, but at the writing style.

The format is the standard official document format, with the beginning, paragraphs, and ending all conforming to the regulations.

However, the writing styles are completely different.

There are no empty platitudes like "I humbly submit" or "I secretly ponder," no lengthy quotations of scripture, and no hollow explanations of doctrine.

He simply wrote: "Your subject investigated how many places, what he saw, what he heard, and what the numbers were," and then drew a conclusion.

This style of writing felt unfamiliar to Zhu Youjian, yet inexplicably clear.

"Wang Chengen," Zhu Youjian suddenly spoke.

"This servant is here."

"Bring me a few representative memorials from both the impeachment and the defense of Yuan Chonghuan."

"Yes."

Wang Chengen quickly brought over two stacks of memorials.

Zhu Youjian first looked at the impeachments.

The memorial submitted by Cao Yubian, the Left Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, begins with "Yuan Chonghuan deceived the emperor and committed a crime deserving of death," followed by a list of his crimes.

He arbitrarily killed Mao Wenlong, allowed the enemy to advance unchecked, and secretly colluded with enemy envoys.

Under each charge, there were phrases like "outrageous treason" and "unforgivable under the law," but not a single truth was told about how Yuan Chonghuan actually colluded with the enemy, what he colluded with, or what evidence there was.

Qian Yunjing, a supervising secretary of the Ministry of War, was even more direct in his memorial, saying that Yuan Chonghuan's claim of "pacifying Liaodong in five years" was pure deception and that he should be executed by slow slicing to appease the people.

Why is it called deception?

Because Liaodong was not pacified.

Why didn't they pacify Liaodong?

Because Yuan Chonghuan was incompetent.

It's all the same old stuff.

Zhu Youjian frowned and opened the memorial praising Yuan Chonghuan.

Li Junheng, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, wrote that Yuan Chonghuan "saved the country in the Battle of Guangqumen, a feat that will last for generations," and that killing him would "dishearten the soldiers and endanger the border."

Why are the soldiers disheartened?

Because Yuan Chonghuan won the hearts of the army.

Why did he win the hearts and minds of the soldiers?

Because they can fight wars.

It's just empty talk.

The memorial submitted by Bi Zisu, the former governor of Liaodong, did mention a few specific details, saying that Yuan Chonghuan "supervised the battle from the city wall and bombarded the enemy chieftain" in Ningyuan, and "held the isolated city and thwarted the enemy's advance" in Jinzhou.

But when asked why Yuan Chonghuan couldn't be killed now, they circled back to the point, saying only that it "would harm the national dignity" and "would damage the emperor's prestige."

Zhu Youjian flipped through the documents one by one, his heart growing heavier with each reading.

These memorials, whether impeaching or protecting, all revolved around the same issue.

Was Yuan Chonghuan loyal or treacherous?

Those who impeached him said he was extremely guilty, while those who protected him said he had made outstanding contributions.

But what is Liaodong really like?

What is the actual number of border troops?

Are enough rations and pay to last for several months?

How much grain can the military farms still produce?

How many people and how much wealth did the Later Jin dynasty abduct during their invasion of the Central Plains?

None of the memorials addressed these very real issues clearly.

They were like two groups of people throwing stones at each other in the dark, but no one thought to light a torch to see what was going on around them.

Zhu Youjian slammed the memorial onto the imperial desk.

The candlelight inside the hall suddenly flickered.

Wang Chengen was so frightened that he knelt down.

Zhu Youjian didn't look at him, but stared at the pile of memorials.

He recalled the past three years, during which he reviewed these memorials until late at night every day, until his eyes were blurry and his head was splitting with pain, but what was it that he was seeing?

It was all mutual attacks, empty talk and platitudes, and everyone trying to achieve their own goals through memorials—either to defeat political enemies, to curry favor with the emperor, or to shirk responsibility.

No one else has listed out the numbers and written down the facts like Chen Zhiyuan.

"The system of accountability for speech..." Zhu Youjian murmured these three words.

He suddenly understood why Chen Zhiyuan had brought this up.

If those who submit memorials are held accountable for their words, if impeachments must be based on evidence, and if recommendations must be guaranteed, then there would be far fewer of these empty and verbose memorials.

Those who wanted to use the impeachment of Yuan Chonghuan to attack their political enemies dared not put pen to paper easily.

Those who wanted to protect Yuan Chonghuan for the sake of factional struggles dared not casually vouch for him.

More importantly, a cold glint flashed in Zhu Youjian's eyes.

If a system of accountability for speech is implemented, he will have a reason to punish those who initially defended Yuan Chonghuan.

Qian Longxi has already been imprisoned, but there are many more.

They confidently predicted that Yuan Chonghuan could pacify Liaodong in five years, but now Liaodong is not pacified and the capital was almost lost. Shouldn't they bear the responsibility?

This thought gave Zhu Youjian a sense of pleasure.

Over the past three years, he had had enough of the obstruction, shirking of responsibility, and feigned compliance with these civil officials.

If the system of accountability for speech allows him to punish them with a legitimate reason, then...

But what about "research"?

Zhu Youjian frowned again.

Sending officials to rural areas for investigation is something that is explicitly prohibited by ancestral rules.

Emperor Taizu Gao wrote it very clearly in the "Great Proclamation".

Local officials used the guise of inspections to extort money from the people.

The local officials took advantage of the opportunity to accompany the villagers to extort money from them.

Therefore, a rule was established that officials were not allowed to leave their jurisdiction without a special decree, let alone go to the countryside at will.

Ancestral rules are as solid as a mountain.

Zhu Youjian was taught from a young age to strictly adhere to ancestral rules.

He eliminated Wei Zhongxian on charges of violating ancestral rules and abusing his power.

He severely punished corruption based on the "Great Ming Code" and the "Great Proclamation".

In his mind, the rules set by his ancestors were ironclad laws that could not be changed.

But Chen Zhiyuan’s words seemed to make sense—how could one know whether the memorial was true or false if one did not go to the site to see for oneself?

Zhu Youjian was caught in a deep struggle.

He paced back and forth in front of the imperial desk, one step, two steps, three steps, with his hands behind his back.

The candlelight stretched his shadow length and shortened, shortened and stretched.

"Wang Chengen." He finally stopped.

"This servant is here."

"Send word to Cheng Ji and Zhou Yanru to enter the palace immediately."