Chapter 087 The Worthless Emperor

To Xue Rui, the name Shi Heng resounded like thunder in his ears. Earlier, the old man had called him a defeated general, referring to the battle when Esen led his troops to invade Datong. At that time, Marquis of Xining, Song Ying, and Marquis of Wujin, Zhu Mian, led the army to attack proactively. Because the supervising officer Guo Jing obstructed their efforts, the army was utterly routed by the Oirat forces at Yanghe Pass. Shi Heng, who was then Deputy Commander-in-Chief, was fortunate enough to escape alone and return to Datong.

With the main commander dead in battle and Shi Heng, as a subordinate general, returning alive, it was only natural for the court to punish him. Not only was he demoted to a minor official, but he was also ordered to recruit soldiers and redeem himself through meritorious service.

Xue Rui speculated that Shi Heng’s appearance in the capital at this time was likely due to the court’s current shortage of capable generals and soldiers. They had no choice but to recall the still battleworthy Shi Heng from the frontier to lead troops in the capital.

Arriving at the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, Xue Rui made some inquiries and found his guess confirmed. Just earlier, Shi Heng had been appointed by Yu Qian, who was in charge of the capital’s defense, as the Right Commander-in-Chief, overseeing the affairs of the Rear Army Command and concurrently in charge of the capital’s military camp drills.

To rise from a defeated general to Right Commander-in-Chief, placed in charge of drilling a hundred thousand soldiers in the capital—this was a meteoric ascent. No wonder when Shi Heng left the city, he made such a grand show; he was indulging in a bit of ostentation.

Of course, Yu Qian’s judgment was sound. In the imminent battle to defend the capital, Shi Heng’s achievements would be worthy of his current rank and status.

This matter did not occupy Xue Rui’s mind for long, and he turned his attention to his immediate responsibilities.

Yesterday, Xu Dun had informed him that a new round of hereditary student selections would begin today, and he was to assist the supervising officials in the assessment.

After lunch, seeing there was still some time before the examination began, Xue Rui first went to the office of his mentor.

Upon seeing him, Hu Zhong beckoned, “Come in, I was just looking for you. Close the door behind you.”

“What is it, Master?” Xue Rui asked, curious about the need for a private conversation in broad daylight.

Hu Zhong handed him a memorial, explaining, “This is the list of vacant official posts in our bureau, submitted by Master Xu. The court has suppressed it.”

The memorial listed all vacant posts except for the Director and the Five Principal Officials, with suitable candidates recommended for each. In the section for the Principal Astrologer was written: “Current Principal Astrologer Hu Zhong, aged seventy-four, frequently ill and frail, wishes to retire; Astronomer Xue Yuanhao has completed nine years of study, is proficient in his art, loyal and patriotic, and may fill the vacancy.”

From the memorial, it was clear the supervising officials had kept their promise.

Appointments and dismissals in the Astronomical Bureau typically only required the Emperor’s consent, without the Ministry of Personnel’s selection. When the Ministry of Rites submitted the list, they generally respected the officials’ recommendations. After all, no one knew the bureau’s talents better than its own officials. Once the list reached the Emperor, it was usually a mere formality.

Yet, for reasons unknown, the court had suddenly changed its mind and delayed the appointments.

Hu Zhong, equally puzzled by his disciple’s question, shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s said the same thing has happened in other departments. The court must have its considerations; it isn’t targeting our Bureau specifically.”

Xue Rui was somewhat disappointed. Without an official position, his father could not return home with honor. For now, they could not stay at Shitou Alley and could only lodge temporarily at Hu Zhong’s residence.

“Master, this morning there was a murder outside the alley where my family is renting. The killer hasn’t been caught yet. I’m worried about my parents’ safety. I had planned to find another residence in the city, but haven’t managed to secure one yet. Could we stay at your house for a few days?”

Hearing of another murder outside the city, Hu Zhong immediately inquired about the details, then slapped the table. “What need is there to rent another house? Just stay here—there’s no shortage of rooms.”

“Then I’ll trouble you, Master. I’ll move in after work,” Xue Rui said gratefully.

“No need for such formality with me.” Hu Zhong rebuked him gently and, not wishing to delay him further, added, “The hereditary student examination is about to begin. Wait outside the gate. If you’re late, Master Xu and the others might think you arrogant. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Thank you, Master.” Without further ado, Xue Rui left.

The examination was held in the open space outside the Astronomical Bureau. Xue Rui waited at the gate for a short while before Xu Dun and several other officials arrived.

At this moment, several tables had been set up outside the main gate, and a dense crowd of about a hundred people had gathered. Seeing that it was nearly time, Xu Dun and the officials took their seats and began the selection.

The method was simple: the officials would ask basic questions about astronomy and mathematics, requiring the candidates to answer on the spot to determine their eligibility.

Due to the shortage of personnel, the requirements for this round were quite relaxed. The age limit had been widened to twelve, and academic demands were much lower. Still, literacy and basic arithmetic were essential—without them, there was no chance of passing.

Of the hundred or so people gathered outside, about half were relatives accompanying the candidates, leaving around fifty examinees.

Though the number seemed small, this represented all the eligible hereditary candidates in the capital’s registered households, showing just how scarce astronomical talent had become.

Judging by the officials’ selection ratio, Xue Rui estimated that about twenty would be admitted, double the number from the last intake earlier in the year.

Xue Rui’s task was straightforward: he would guide the successful candidates to the clerical office to complete their registration.

Though the process seemed simple, it consumed much time. It would likely take until the end of the workday to finish.

While the examination proceeded slowly at the Astronomical Bureau, a storm capable of altering the fate of the Ming Dynasty was brewing at court.

Just yesterday, a military report from Datong arrived at the Ministry of War.

Written by Sun Xiang, a censor in the Ministry of War, it informed the court of Emperor Zhu Qizhen’s encounter with the Oirats at Datong, as well as the local commanders’ secret plans to rescue the Emperor.

The ministers’ reactions were unusually unanimous. Not only did they fiercely denounce Liu An and the other commanders in Datong, but even the Emperor himself was subjected to unprecedented criticism.

After the Emperor’s first mention of the Oirat besieging the city, the court, in the name of the Empress Dowager Sun, had strictly forbidden all border commanders from opening the city gates without permission. Any news concerning the Emperor was to be immediately reported so that Prince Cheng and the ministers could decide.

Yet Liu An, as the chief commander at Datong, not only opened the gates and left the city without authorization, but even ordered his deputies to follow him to visit the captive Emperor—an act of reckless audacity.

What infuriated the officials was that, although the court had ordered the border commanders to seize any opportunity to rescue the Emperor, it had never suggested that the chief commander should risk his own life by personally visiting the Oirat camp. If the Oirats had detained all the commanders, the Datong defense would be leaderless and easily overrun.

Fortunately, the Oirats at that time were only interested in ransom, and thanks to Deputy Commander Guo Deng’s meticulous arrangements before leaving the city, Datong’s defenses were unassailable, deterring the Oirats from an assault. Otherwise, these commanders might have become hostages themselves.

Given this, how could the court’s officials not be furious?

Yet Liu An’s conduct was not the most infuriating; the one who truly provoked their wrath was Emperor Zhu Qizhen.

As the sovereign of millions, instead of atoning for his defeat with death, he calmly became a captive, and when faced with Oirat threats, not only did he do his utmost to help them demand ransom, but also tried every possible way to assist them in deceiving the city, as if fearing the Oirats would harm him.

This time, at Datong’s walls, the captive Emperor still acted imperiously, ordering Datong’s commanders to divert military funds to curry favor with Esen, leader of the Oirats, and to collect the wealth of deceased generals to reward the Oirat chiefs. He even commanded that pigs and sheep be slaughtered for feasts to entertain the Oirat soldiers, laughing and chatting at the banquets with not a trace of shame. Such shamelessness would be infamous for generations.

Even these two actions alone were enough to disgrace him forever.

What left people speechless was that, whether out of a desire to flatter the Emperor or out of earnest execution of the court’s rescue orders, Liu An had certainly gone to great lengths to save the Emperor, risking his own life. Yet when Liu An’s men tried to conspire with Zhu Qizhen, the captive Emperor dared not take the slightest risk, forcing Liu An and the others to abandon their well-laid rescue plan and resort to a direct assault on the camp, ultimately failing.

Faced with such a pitiful Emperor, the ministers shared a single thought: this useless fool was no longer fit to be Emperor!

Under such circumstances, rumors of installing a new sovereign began to spread through the court, reaching a point where even Yu Qian and others had to take them seriously.

In the Cining Palace, upon learning of her son’s deeds, Empress Dowager Sun fainted again, this time not recovering for a long while.

Throughout her decades in the palace, she had weathered countless storms. When dealing with Empress Hu Shanxiang, she used a little intrigue to relegate her to the cold palace. When the late Emperor wanted to take a commoner as a consort, she merely had to cry before Empress Dowager Zhang to make him give up the idea. When rumors spread that Empress Dowager Zhang wanted to install the elder Prince Xiang as Emperor after the late Emperor’s passing, Sun went to the Cining Palace to reason and plead, successfully securing the throne for her son Zhu Qizhen.

For many years, she navigated the shifting court with ease, but when it came to her son, she felt a profound sense of helplessness.

When Wang Zhen persuaded her son to lead a campaign in person, she, who might have been best positioned to stop it, failed to do so, resulting in the catastrophic defeat at Tumu Fortress, the annihilation of the army, and her son’s capture by the Oirats.

Her son’s actions repeatedly tested the limits of imperial conduct, gradually breaking down Empress Dowager Sun’s psychological defenses.

Now, seeing what her son had done at Datong, she finally gave up any hope of restoring him to the throne.

Not long after Sun Xiang’s military report arrived in the capital, Chief Commander Liu An’s memorial also reached the court.

Liu An’s purpose was nothing other than to seek credit for himself.

He wrote that when he left the city to visit the Emperor, he obtained important information: Emperor Zhu Qizhen had told him that Esen had changed his mind about a marriage alliance and now wanted to marry his sister to the Emperor, making him an Oirat son-in-law and sending him back to the capital to resume his reign. The Emperor added that he was eating and sleeping well in captivity, and that if the Empress Dowager sent even more gold and jewels to the Oirat leaders, he would soon return to the capital as Emperor once again.

Liu An repeatedly emphasized the risks he took in leaving the city and bringing back news of the Emperor, implying, “I risked so much to bring word of the Emperor’s imminent return—hurry up and promote me.”

But he did not realize that the situation at court had already changed.

Reading the memorial, not only did Zhu Qiyu become enraged, but even the ministers cursed them both. The Emperor was a fool, deceived time and again, still believing Oirat lies, and Liu An was no better, shamelessly seeking personal gain from it.

Soon, Prince Cheng instructed Yu Qian to make personnel adjustments to the Datong command.

Yu Qian, recognizing the gravity of the matter, immediately issued a military order:

“Appoint Liu An, Marquis of Guang’an, as chief commander; promote Guo Deng to Deputy Commander-in-Chief and Vice Chief Commander; promote Fang Shan and Zhang Tong to Assistant Commanders; appoint Yao Gui, Commander of the Datong Rear Guard, as Acting Deputy Commander; and Zhang Huai, Deputy Commander, as Deputy Commander-in-Chief, each retaining their previous responsibilities.”

With these adjustments, only Liu An’s position remained unchanged, while the ranks of the other commanders were all elevated, thus subtly reducing Liu An’s power.

At the same time, Prince Cheng issued another decree, strictly forbidding all border commanders from opening city gates or sending gold and jewels to the enemy, even under imperial edict. Any violation would be severely punished by the court!

From these personnel changes and Prince Cheng’s unprecedentedly harsh language, it was clear that the court’s attitude was now unmistakable: the captive Emperor in Oirat hands was no longer valuable.

...

Half an hour before the end of the workday at the Astronomical Bureau, the hereditary student examination was finally completed.

Xue Rui counted twenty-two students admitted, aged between twelve and fourteen.

Once registration was done, he announced the dismissal, instructing the new students to go home with their families, pack their things, and report to the archives the next morning.

After work, Xue Rui accompanied his mentor home.

As soon as they entered, they found Xue Yuanhao waiting in the courtyard with the Hu family steward, Hu Youtong.

“Disciple Xue Yuanhao greets Master,” he said, bowing deeply as Hu Zhong’s carriage arrived.

When the carriage stopped, Hu Zhong, assisted by Xue Rui, alighted.

Since Xue Yuanhao’s imprisonment, they had not seen each other for over a month. The hardship of recent events moved them both.

“Get up, you’re still recovering. Why aren’t you resting in your room?” Hu Zhong finally suppressed his emotions and helped Xue Yuanhao up.

“Master, my illness no longer matters,” Xue Yuanhao replied, his eyes reddened with guilt. “I was reckless, brought disaster upon myself, troubled you, and cost you over a thousand taels of silver to settle matters. I am truly ashamed.”

“Nonsense, as long as you are safe, a little filthy lucre is of no importance. What’s more, your safe release from prison is thanks to your good son; otherwise, even I might not have been able to rescue you,” Hu Zhong said with a laugh.

“That was only because Master guided us so well,” Xue Rui quickly added.

Though he joined in the laughter, Xue Rui was deeply shocked. No wonder when he’d asked who had managed to arrange matters in the Imperial Prison, Master had only smiled. It turned out he’d used silver to pave the way, bribing the prison officials senseless, sparing his father much suffering.

Oddly enough, his father had never mentioned this before.

Entering the inner chambers, they found Lady Liu waiting with Hu Ying’er. After greeting Hu Zhong, the two families gathered in the tea room.

During the conversation, they first fiercely denounced Wang Zhen and his faction, then reflected on the lessons learned. Afterward, they expressed concerns about the situation in the capital, praised the measures taken by Prince Cheng and Yu Qian, and finally concluded that although the capital seemed in peril, it was in fact as stable as an old dog—reassuring everyone.

Of course, most of these views were presented by Xue Rui, with Hu Zhong and Xue Yuanhao only occasionally offering their opinions.

Clearly, in their eyes, Xue Rui was no longer a boy, but a peer to be treated as an equal.