Chapter 109: The Tongue, Eyes, Ears, and Limbs of the Son of Heaven

“Our Ming navy will one day be like the Black Tortoise, overturning rivers and seas!” Zhu Yuanzhang declared his resolve, and Zhu Biao’s heart surged with emotion.

Under the old Zhu’s leadership, the Ming might not yet possess the national strength to venture overseas; this heavy burden would likely fall upon Zhu Biao’s shoulders.

The Black Tortoise Navy that the old Zhu decided to establish was destined to lie dormant for a long time. It was merely a seed left behind by the Ming to avoid completely abandoning its navy.

“Zhang Yi’s suggestion to use trade to absorb wealth from across the land is also sound. Though the seas are closed, official ports must remain open to attract wealth from everywhere! But that matter can wait...” Zhu Yuanzhang sighed.

“This time, I originally wanted to ask him about the other navy, but by a twist of fate, we ended up talking about the Black Tortoise Navy...”

“Another navy?” Empress Ma was puzzled, unaware of the rumors circulating in Yangzhou. At this moment, only a few, including Zhu Yuanzhang, Zhu Biao, and Zhang Zhengchang, knew the truth.

Zhu Biao briefly recounted the story of “one hundred thousand naval troops descending on Yangzhou” to Empress Ma, who listened with quiet fascination.

“This tactic is cunning—using the methods of sword and spear against the people themselves, it seems...”

“Very effective!” Zhu Yuanzhang interrupted her, his expression grave.

“My father once gave me a metaphor: a ruler depends on three types of scholar-officials—those who speak, those who see and hear, and those who act as his hands and feet. Now, I intend to seize control of the power of speech!”

Empress Ma pondered deeply. She understood that these three metaphors represented how officials exercised imperial authority: the hands and feet being the officials managing the realm in the emperor’s stead; the ears and eyes being those who reported events within the borders; and the tongue being the scholar-officials’ monopoly over knowledge and the power to propagate the emperor’s voice. These were the three pillars the sovereign had to rely upon.

Though the power wielded by the scholars was conferred by the emperor, if it grew too great, they could use it to undermine him. During the late Yuan dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang had witnessed firsthand the chaos bred by such corruption—the gravest being the starvation and death of his own parents before his eyes.

When disasters struck, the court did not fail to send relief, but the provisions were siphoned off at every level by corrupt officials, leaving barely a fraction to the victims.

Zhu Yuanzhang despised that era and harbored even greater hatred for corrupt officials because of what happened to his parents.

Later, as he wandered the land and rose in rebellion, his growing knowledge led him to consider the deeper implications behind this.

What the emperor in the palace thought was not crucial.

When his officials no longer answered to him, he was like a blind cripple, powerless within his own palace.

Now that Zhu Yuanzhang had become emperor himself, he would never allow himself to suffer the same fate as the Yuan ruler.

By establishing the censors, he sought to find ears and eyes outside the scholar-official class.

Now, with the idea to establish a navy, Zhu Yuanzhang saw a way to use the art of dissemination to try to seize the tongues of scholars across the land.

“You, ah...” Empress Ma, who perhaps understood Zhu Yuanzhang’s inner struggles better than anyone, said no more.

“The power of speech and sight, but who knows—perhaps one day you’ll want to control their hands and feet as well...” This thought lingered in Empress Ma’s heart, unspoken.

“In that case, find an opportunity to get more from that boy,” she said quietly.

As the carriage slid into darkness, the occupants fell silent.

...

The next day.

Zhang Yi rose early, feeling refreshed. He carefully kept the jade token Zhu Biao had given him and set out with Deng Zhongxiu toward the National Academy.

In a good mood, Zhang Yi took the rare chance to observe his surroundings. The distant Qinhuai River vanished and reappeared through the morning mist like a fairyland.

But Zhang Yi’s interest in the Qinhuai was not for the young women or other distractions.

There lay the Confucius Temple pier in Ying Tian Prefecture, the very place where he planned to cash in the jade pendant!

“Brother Deng, come get me after class. We have some business to attend to!” Leaving this message, Zhang Yi hurried into the academy.

Along the way, he noticed some people pointing and whispering, their faces puzzled.

When he reached the classroom, he found Kong Ne standing outside, head bowed in punishment.

Kong Ne’s eyes, sharp like iron beasts, glared fiercely at Zhang Yi.

“Get out!”

Zhang Yi brushed past Kong Ne, ready to enter the classroom, only to find Xu Cunren had already arrived.

Xu’s face betrayed no emotion as he spoke calmly.

Zhang Yi was momentarily stunned but then caught sight of his elder brother Zhang from Jiangxi winking at him.

Understanding the hint, Zhang Yi obediently stepped outside and stood beside Kong Ne.

Xu Cunren paid them no further attention and began leading the students in study.

The sound of recitation filled the academy’s halls, but Zhang Yi and Kong Ne stood silently side by side.

Kong Ne’s face burned red with shame. Almost all his humiliations had occurred here in Ying Tian.

As the heir of the Kong family and future Duke of Confucius, being punished by his teacher before all was a bitter blow.

And the instigator was none other than Zhang Yi, who showed no shame and looked around with keen interest.

The two had fought the day before, leaving Kong Ne with complicated feelings toward Zhang Yi.

“I’m not a traitor, nor was my grandfather! Apologize to me!” Kong Ne was unwilling to let it go.

Zhang Yi had no intention to engage but turned to meet Kong Ne’s stubborn gaze, defiant.

“Is that all the Kong family has left? Empty words?” Zhang Yi sneered.

Kong Ne flushed with anger but dared not strike him. He was left speechless.

Zhang Yi appraised Kong Ne from head to toe, then suddenly smiled.

“Ne Ne, you wouldn’t want your grandfather’s deeds to be exposed, would you? I let you off yesterday—how about you promise me one thing? If you do, I won’t call your grandfather a traitor anymore.”

Kong Ne felt a chill despite Zhang Yi being younger. Every greeting from Zhang Yi drained him more than dealing with his own elders.

He watched Zhang Yi cautiously.

“What do you want?”

“I just want you to help me sell something. It won’t trouble you.”

“Really?”

Though reluctant to deal with him, Kong Ne knew Zhang Yi held leverage over him.

“What are you selling?”

“You’ll know after school!”

“I haven’t agreed yet!” Kong Ne was wary, sensing the little Taoist was no good.

They were deep in conversation when a cough sounded behind them.

“Sir!” Xu Cunren appeared silently.

Kong Ne and Zhang Yi hurriedly bowed.

“Come, follow me.”

Xu Cunren showed no anger and led them inside.

It was the same courtyard where they had dined before. Xu walked ahead; they followed closely.

“You’ve grown up. I just left, and you two were already fighting? Looks like the Kong family’s noble spirit can’t match the Thunder Method of Dragon and Tiger Mountain,” Xu said, teasing Kong Ne, whose face was flushed, with dark circles betraying the fight’s outcome.

“In the National Academy, aside from a few rarely attending students with low merit, you two are the first to fight here. If I don’t punish you, there’ll be no order!”

Kong Ne hung his head in shame. “Master Yan, I was wrong. Please punish me as you see fit.”

“What kind of punishment? Is it fighting?”

Unlike Kong Ne’s earnestness, Zhang Yi’s reply was mischievous.

“Master Xu, can’t you not punish me?”

“No, Zhang Yi. You must copy this calligraphy sheet a hundred times. Your handwriting is atrocious and must be corrected.”

Zhang Yi groaned, but Xu paid him no mind and turned to Kong Ne.

“As for you, copy the ‘Supreme Classic on the Subtle Methods of the Microcosmic World’ ten times.”

“Sir, why must I copy a book from Dragon and Tiger Mountain...?” Kong Ne protested.

Xu smiled, “If I told you to copy the Analects, would you still be punished?”

Kong Ne considered this and ceased his objections, taking the book and finding a place to begin his copying.

“Zhang Yi, don’t mess around, or I’ll petition the emperor to have you lodge here at the academy, and I’ll personally tutor you...” Xu’s words hit Zhang Yi’s weak spot.

He and Kong Ne were special day students—most students lived in the academy barracks, except for those with few merits or sons of officials.

Zhang Yi dreaded staying here under constant watch; it would be his nightmare.

He grimaced but began copying the calligraphy seriously.

Seeing them both diligently at work, Xu nodded approvingly and left the courtyard.

Kong Ne opened the ‘Supreme Classic on the Subtle Methods of the Microcosmic World,’ a textbook example of the struggles of a poor student.

He glanced disdainfully at Zhang Yi, convinced this book was a fake scripture penned by Zhang Yi himself—a worthless charlatan.

Indeed, being made to copy this scripture was punishment.

As Kong Ne ground ink and began to copy, his initial scorn turned to astonishment, then to horror.

He suddenly lifted his head and stared hard at Zhang Yi, who was absorbed in his copying, emotions swirling within him.

The grammar of the scripture was so atrocious it seemed to offend both gods and men, yet within the text Zhang Yi had woven a bizarre world—the microcosmic realm.

Within it were minuscule, invisible creatures, their existence, life forms, and significance.

And from this microcosmic world emanated thoughts that sparked in Kong Ne’s mind many ideas—about venomous insects, tales in oral literature, and similar things.

“How did he discover these?”

Kong Ne had always looked down on Zhang Yi as illiterate and a mere charlatan, but in scrutinizing this book, he had to admit there was something about Zhang Yi that caught Xu Cunren’s attention.

“Is this the true meaning behind the master’s order to copy the book?”

Kong Ne seemed to grasp something and, setting aside his prejudice, began to copy the ‘Supreme Classic on the Subtle Methods of the Microcosmic World’ earnestly.

(End of chapter)