Chapter 62: Bridging North and South, An Achievement for the Ages

Everyone present except for Zhang Yuchu had heard of Zhang Yi, or rather, of the evaluation the old immortal in Zhang Yi’s dream had given of Zhu Yuanzhang.

An emperor for the ages!

Last time, Zhu Biao had asked Zhang Yi how the sovereign of Great Ming could be worthy of standing alongside the First Emperor of Qin and Emperor Wu of Han. Zhang Yi’s answer was that the emperor had a chance to reclaim the Sixteen Prefectures of You and Yun, thus putting to rest a regret that had haunted the Han people for 455 years.

Such an achievement would indeed earn him the title of an emperor for the ages, but Old Zhu was not satisfied. For a ruler, both civil governance and martial prowess were essential; in his heart, civil administration was even more important than military feats.

Old Zhu was a conservative man; family held a place of utmost importance in his heart. Now that he was emperor, the Ming dynasty was, in a sense, an extension of his family. How to pass this family down, how to ensure his descendants could live well—this was Old Zhu’s deepest concern.

He certainly yearned for the glory of being an emperor for the ages, but if it were only to end in the ignominy of the Qin dynasty, with the empire collapsing after a single generation, what use would such a title be?

Zhu Yuanzhang had not forgotten how Zhang Yi, through the fate of the Chang family’s maid, had glimpsed the destinies of his two grandsons. One of them would be imprisoned until death—what had transpired to bring this about?

Thus, civil governance often reflected the rise and fall of a dynasty. Today, the emperor had summoned Zhang Yi primarily to ask about this very matter.

“Did you see something in your ancestor’s words, or perhaps in that celestial book?” Zhu Yuanzhang asked.

Zhang Yi knew that what he had said that day would hardly escape his uncle’s notice, so he decided to admit it openly.

“Uncle truly is the greatest supporter of His Majesty!” Zhang Yi thought to himself, then replied aloud:

“It’s really quite simple—just that phrase: expel the barbarians and restore China!”

“Expelling the barbarians, in my view, is almost within His Majesty’s grasp. This year, the Yuan capital will likely be lost, and in the years to come, Great Ming will gradually reclaim the northern territories, sweeping away the Yuan remnants in the Central Plains… In terms of martial achievement, His Majesty is absolutely unstoppable!”

“And as for civil governance, His Majesty’s management, by and large, won’t be lacking either. But if he wants to fulfill his true historical mission, that will be much harder…”

“Historical mission?” Zhu Yuanzhang picked up on the novel turn of phrase. This was clearly not a conventional expression. Zhang Yi was judging Zhu Yuanzhang from a lofty, almost detached perspective!

On second thought, Zhu Yuanzhang found it understandable. Zhang Yi’s view was, in fact, the assessment of future generations—impartial and objective.

He recalled what Empress Ma had once told him: Li Shimin could take history and other men as his mirror, but no ruler could take the future as his guide.

“What is His Majesty’s historical mission?” Zhu Yuanzhang asked, his tone tinged with excitement.

“To restore China!” Zhang Yi replied.

“And what is China?” asked Zhu Yuanzhang.

“The north and south united, all upholding the ancestral system as one!”

“That seems to be exactly what His Majesty is doing. It doesn’t sound that difficult!” interjected Zhang Yuchu, watching the exchange with the enthusiasm of a child eager to join in.

“Is it really not difficult?” Zhang Yi was pleased to have his brother play along and took up the conversation: “Even if Uncle Huang has never heard of the late official Zhang Chang, he should at least look at the current condition of the Duke of Yansheng…”

Zhu Yuanzhang lowered his head in thought. The mention of Zhang Chang brought back memories that were far from pleasant. Zhang Chang had once served as Minister of Revenue under the previous dynasty. Later, Zhu Yuanzhang had sought to win him over, employing and trusting him. He had even risen to the rank of Deputy Chief Councillor under Zhu Yuanzhang. Had he survived the founding of Ming, he would surely have been a high minister of the Secretariat.

Yet such a man had been executed by Old Zhu just last year. The reason was simple: though trusted, Zhang Chang’s heart remained with the previous regime, and many of his proposals were deliberately misleading. When the truth came out, Old Zhu, unusually sentimental, still tried to persuade him. But Zhang Chang left behind only a parting remark: “My body is in the south, but my heart remains in the north.” He would rather die than yield.

His betrayal cast a shadow in Zhu Yuanzhang’s heart.

“Before His Majesty subdues the north, the Han people have lost far more than just the Sixteen Prefectures of You and Yun over four centuries. What’s been lost, too, is the sense of identity between northern and southern Han. Though sharing the same heritage, the same language, the same blood, the north has been under foreign rule for centuries. Especially since the Mongols entered the Central Plains and imposed a division between north and south, even Han people became divided into two classes! For eighty years now, it wasn’t just the Mongols and the ‘colored-eye’ people who looked down on the Han; even northern Han disdained their southern kin.”

“Haven’t many northern officials openly talked of slaughtering southerners? The Duke of Yansheng and Zhang Chang are but reflections of this era. If those officials clung to power granted by the previous dynasty, what of the common folk who resisted the northern expedition? Why did they do so?”

“Centuries of lost land have cost us more than just territory—they have cost us the hearts of the people!”

These words stung Zhu Yuanzhang somewhat.

Yet he did not refute Zhang Yi. As the emperor, how could he not know the situation of Ming’s northern campaigns? As the armies marched north, they encountered not only Mongol forces but also resistance from the local population. After centuries of foreign rule, Zhu Yuanzhang had to admit that Zhang Yi spoke the truth: the Han, south and north, should have been one people, but in reality, they had grown estranged.

“To heal the division between northern and southern Han that has lasted for centuries—this is what the Hongwu Emperor must accomplish. And it is a task even more difficult than reclaiming the Sixteen Prefectures.”

“If this can be achieved, it will be a merit for the ages!”

Zhu Yuanzhang’s spirit was shaken. Zhang Yi’s words were like a sudden clearing of the fog. At the dawn of the Ming dynasty, he had many ideas for his newly won realm, yet in practice, he remained somewhat lost. Now, with Zhang Yi illuminating the path ahead, Zhu Yuanzhang understood his mission.

He was not one to accept others’ ideas lightly. In fact, his suspicious nature made him wary of suggestions from extraordinary men like Zhang Yi. Yet the notion of healing the north-south divide struck a deep chord. He knew it was the right path—a grand and upright way.

With a direction at last, Zhu Yuanzhang’s mind began to teem with ideas for uniting north and south. Zhang Yi, observing the emperor lost in thought, smiled meaningfully. It seemed Uncle Huang was now fully assuming the role of emperor, but they were still underestimating the difficulty of the task.

Though Zhu Yuanzhang was somewhat blind to his own situation, as a great sovereign he was not incapable of discerning the tides of history. The effort to unite north and south was also being pursued by the one within the palace, but alas, fate and circumstance conspired—it was an extremely intricate and tangled issue.

It was not until the thirty-first year of Hongwu, when the Examination Scandal erupted, that the emperor truly realized the problem had not been resolved. Yet there was no longer any opportunity to make amends, for that same year Zhu Yuanzhang passed away.

In the end, regrets remained.

But since no one asked further, Zhang Yi did not intend to pursue the topic. With Uncle Huang lost in profound thought and ignoring the rest, Zhang Yi turned to chat with Zhu Biao.

“By the way, the Duke of Yansheng should be arriving soon, shouldn’t he?” Zhu Yuanzhang’s thoughts had shifted from healing the north-south divide to Kong Kejian.

“Wait, what? The one coming to the capital this time is Kong Kejian?” Only now did Zhang Yi react, his expression shifting subtly.

“Is there something wrong?” someone asked.

“No,” Zhang Yi replied calmly, betraying nothing.

“Has history’s course shifted? Or is it that I remember it wrong?” he wondered inwardly.