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

When Chen Zhiyuan returned to his office in the Censorate, it was already nearly dusk.

Zhao Delu waited at the door, his expression not very good.

"Your Excellency, the Grand Secretary Cheng has sent word that he requests your presence at your residence."

Chen Zhiyuan changed into casual clothes and headed to Cheng Jiming's residence.

Chengji was granted a residence in Chengqingfang, not far from the imperial city.

The gatekeeper seemed to have been instructed beforehand and led Chen Zhiyuan inside directly.

After passing through two courtyards, we arrived at the study.

Cheng Jiming, dressed in his home robe, was reading a government gazette.

Seeing Chen Zhiyuan come in, he pointed to the chair opposite him.

"sit."

Chen Zhiyuan bowed and sat down.

The study was filled with the scent of sandalwood, the bookshelves were full of classic texts, and a banner on the wall read "Quietness cultivates character."

It was a place of leisure and elegance, a world apart from the gloomy prison.

Cheng Jiming put down the official gazette, sized up Chen Zhiyuan for a moment, and slowly said, "You've been making quite a splash lately."

Chen Zhiyuan lowered his eyes: "This humble official is terrified."

"Fearful?" Cheng Jiming smiled, took out a stack of documents from under the desk, and pushed them in front of him.

"Take a look at this."

Chen Zhiyuan picked it up.

It was a thick stack of impeachment memorials copied by the Office of Transmission, probably dozens of copies.

A cursory glance reveals accusations that he "recklessly overturned an ironclad case," "bewitched the emperor," "sowed discord between the emperor and his ministers," and "shattered the foundation of the state."

"Since the news of your interrogation of Yuan Chonghuan spread, the number of impeachment memorials against you has increased day by day," Cheng Jiming said calmly.

"The current number is no less than that of the impeachment of Yuan Chonghuan."

Chen Zhiyuan put down the documents.

"I am merely following orders."

"When carrying out orders, one must also know how to exercise discretion."

Cheng Jiming stared at him.

"The case of Yuan Chonghuan has been settled through a joint trial by the three judicial departments."

"You are now scrutinizing the memorials line by line, which, in the eyes of others, is to overturn his case—or rather, to question the conclusions of the Three Judicial Offices and the court."

Chen Zhiyuan remained silent.

Cheng Jiming continued, "Moreover, it is an ancestral system for officials to report matters based on hearsay."

"If you were to verify every impeachment now, requiring officials to provide evidence—if this rule were established, who would dare to speak out in the future? Wouldn't the channels of communication be completely blocked?"

Chen Zhiyuan looked up: "Your Excellency, I am merely reviewing the memorials related to the Yuan case, not attempting to change any ancestral rules."

"But once this precedent is set, others will follow suit."

Cheng Jiming picked up his teacup and took a sip.

"Today you are investigating the Yuan case, and you require the officials in charge of censorship to provide evidence."

"If someone else is investigating another case tomorrow, they will also be required to provide evidence."

"If this continues, the system of reporting matters based on hearsay will become a mere formality. Can you bear this responsibility?"

Chen Zhiyuan knew what Cheng Jiming was talking about.

The Ming Dynasty's system of censors was originally intended to broaden channels for public opinion and supervise officials.

However, by the Chongzhen era, it had been distorted into a tool for factional struggles—impeachments required no evidence, and accusations relied entirely on rumors.

If we truly want "consistency between words and responsibilities," how many officials would be punished for making false accusations?

How many officials who rose to power through impeachment and attacks will fall from grace?

This affects the interests of the entire group of officials who speak out.

"I don't understand," Chen Zhiyuan said slowly.

"If the impeachment is true, what difficulty is there in providing evidence? If the impeachment is false, why can't the perpetrators be punished? Is allowing false accusations to run rampant the way to open up avenues of speech?"

"Young man, you're taking this too seriously." Cheng Jiming put down his teacup, his voice turning serious.

"Things in officialdom are not always black and white. Some impeachments, though lacking in factual evidence, have their reasons."

"Yuan Chonghuan's five-year campaign to pacify Liaodong ended in vain; he arbitrarily executed Mao Wenlong and allowed the enemy to advance unchecked—these are facts, aren't they?"

"The censors impeached him for treason based on this, but although the evidence was insufficient, who can prove his absolute innocence?"

Chen Zhiyuan finally couldn't hold back any longer.

"Your Excellency, according to the laws of the Ming Dynasty, isn't it the accuser who bears the burden of proof? Why should the accused be required to prove their innocence?"

Cheng Jiming glanced at him, his gaze like that of someone looking at an ignorant child.

"The law is the law, and officialdom is officialdom," he said slowly.

"If someone impeaches you, accusing you of colluding with the enemy, and you can't produce evidence to defend yourself, then you're guilty. Don't you understand this principle?"

Chen Zhiyuan was stunned.

He suddenly remembered some historical materials he had read in his previous life.

In the factional struggles at the end of the Ming Dynasty, the most common tactic for attacking political enemies was to accuse them of "colluding with the enemy" or "forming factions."

Those who are impeached often need to prove their innocence, but the process of proving their innocence is easily misinterpreted and used as a pretext for accusations.

This is a vicious cycle.

If you can't explain it clearly, then there's a problem.

The more you try to explain, the worse it may get.

"This humble official... has learned a great deal," Chen Zhiyuan said in a hoarse voice.

Cheng Jiming thought he had listened, so his tone softened.

"Now that you enjoy the Emperor's favor, you should be even more careful with your words and actions. As for the Yuan Chonghuan case, just handle it according to the established procedures."

"Review the memorials, but leave it at that. His Majesty's request is to show his stance, not to actually dig up everyone's secrets. Understand?"

Chen Zhiyuan stood up and bowed, saying, "This humble official understands."

"Good, I understand." Cheng Jiming nodded.

"Go back. I will consider refusing to accept the memorials impeaching you these past few days. But you should also be more restrained and not give others any more ammunition against you."

When we left Cheng's residence, it was already completely dark.

The streets were nearly deserted as the night watchman walked by, striking his clapper.

As Chen Zhiyuan walked on the bluestone path, Cheng Jiming's words echoed repeatedly in his mind.

"The innocent are innocent... Why not submit evidence?"

What absurd the logic, yet it truly reflects the political landscape of the Ming Dynasty at this moment.

No evidence is needed, but self-proof is required.

The attacker holds the power of discourse, leaving the victim struggling to cope.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

Chen Zhiyuan knew that behind the "rumored reports" lay deeper corruption.

Military spending corruption, weak border defenses, factional infighting... these problems are interconnected, weaving a vast net that drags the entire Ming Dynasty into the abyss.

Cheng Jiming, the seemingly fair prime minister, was actually maintaining this system.

This system maintained the "stability" of the imperial court and also the status of those who benefited from the system.

When they returned to the Censorate, it was nearly 9 PM.

The lights were still on in the main room, and Zhao Delu was waiting at the door, looking somewhat anxious.

"Vice-Prefect, someone is waiting for you."

"Who?"

"Feng Quan, Director of the Personnel Selection Department of the Ministry of Personnel."

Chen Zhiyuan frowned.

Feng Quan was a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination) in the 44th year of the Wanli reign. During the Tianqi reign, he attached himself to Wei Zhongxian and rose to the position of Minister of Revenue and Grand Secretary of the Wuying Hall.

After Emperor Chongzhen ascended the throne, he purged the eunuch faction and was dismissed from office.

He was reinstated last year through connections and is now a senior official in the Ministry of Personnel. Although he is only a fifth-rank official, he still has many connections in the court.

This person is known for his scheming and opportunism; he is a typical "fence-sitter."

His coming to see me could not be anything good.

Entering the main room, Feng Quan was looking at the calligraphy and paintings on the wall with his hands behind his back. Hearing footsteps, he turned around.

Feng Quan was in his fifties, with a fair complexion and a meticulously trimmed beard. He wore a smile, but his eyes revealed shrewdness and calculation.

"I have long admired Chen Qianxian."

Feng Quan cupped his hands in greeting, his tone excessively enthusiastic.

Chen Zhiyuan returned the greeting: "Doctor Feng's visit so late at night, what brings you here?"

"I dare not presume to offer guidance," Feng Quan said with an unchanged smile.

"I just heard that Vice Minister Chen has been busy investigating the Yuan case recently, and I came to visit you."

"By the way... let's have a few private words."

Chen Zhiyuan gestured for him to sit down, and then sat down himself.

Zhao Delu served tea, then left, closing the door behind him.

Feng Quan took a sip of tea and said slowly, "Chen Qianxian is young and promising, and enjoys the Emperor's favor, which is enviable. However, there is quite a bit of criticism of him in the court these days."

"Oh?" Chen Zhiyuan said calmly.

"It is said that the Vice Censor is using the investigation to fabricate charges and suppress dissidents, trying to emulate Wei Zhongxian's 'Imperial Cases' to establish his personal authority."

At this point, Feng Quan suddenly stopped smiling, stood up, his finger almost poking Chen Zhiyuan's face, and said sternly, "Chen Zhiyuan!"