The Sui Family

Sui Zhou’s arrival made his parents very watchful.

Over these years, he had sent no lack of people bearing gifts to their home, but because he was very busy with work, the number of times he was able to return was ultimately limited. The Sui parents preferring their eldest son was a fact that couldn’t be disputed, too; now that he had children, they were too occupied with coddling their grandchildren to pay attention to their second son.

However, Sui Zhou was not a child that needed the attention of others. At the age of eighteen, he had moved out to live alone, devote himself to the Brocade Guard, go from the bottom to where he was now, step-by-step, and become head of the Brocade Guard via his own efforts. His status as consort-kin did not add flowers to brocade for him, but instead was more often a hindrance to his official’s career.

In he process of his promotion, the voice he had heard most often was “That guy has the support of the Empress Dowager, so of course he rose up quickly,” but he was not someone who liked to grumble about everything. Instead of wasting energy arguing about so many things, it would be better for him to rely on his own actual strength to prove himself. That was why he sat upon the top crossed chair of the Brocade Guard, and the people that had talked behind his back were long gone.

In truth, someone like him didn’t care about what others said. Even if the gossipers were his own family, he was unmoved all the same.

The Sui family’s situation was decent, really. It wasn’t much to look at compared to noble capital families, but it didn’t worry for food and clothing, which could be called a type of affluence. Father Sui and Sui Zhou’s older brother were both in empty positions, so they could collect their salaries without doing anything. On top of that, the family owned shops and fields that earned them extra annual income, leaving them with plenty for wearing high-quality silks.

Of course, when it came to actual power, they were nothing, because apart from Sui Zhou, none of them were real officials.

Father Sui did not need to be mentioned. Sui An, the older brother, used to forever look down upon a Brocade Guard military post, feeling that he would be the Emperor’s lackey, have a poor reputation, and get fingers pointed at him. He had thought to walk the path of imperial exams, but he wasn’t the martial for it, resulting in him squandering half of his life only to end up achieving nothing.

In spite of his family’s wealth, he was always giving both long and short sighs, hating that he had been born at the wrong time, having talent yet no opportunities to use it. Seeing how his younger brother had entered the Brocade Guard he always looked down upon, then been promoted until he was already a Commanding Envoy, even receiving a noble title, he felt quite displeased. In the quiet of the night, he had inevitably grumbled quite a lot to Lady Jiao.

Had she been a gentle and virtuous person, it would be fine, as she would have definitely urged her husband to calm himself and be content with what he already had. Instead, she was a prideful woman, feeling that her husband held the advantage of being the eldest son and was much better than Sui Zhou, who hadn’t had even one child, and yet he had had difficulty advancing in his career. Sharing the same breath as her husband, she also believed that Sui Zhou had grabbed too many advantages. Since he alone was a Brocade Guard in the family, the Late Emperor and Grand Empress Dowager must have given him quite a lot of care, as in an inversion of yin and yang, Sui An’s career had been rocky, while his little brother had grown all the more contrastingly successful.

The Sui parents were honest people of ineloquent speech. Even if their eldest son and his wife were full of complaints, they could say nothing about it, only able to console them in private. In addition to that, they were slightly biased towards their eldest, and when Sui Zhou occasionally did visit, they would ask him to give his brother a hand and pull him up.

But how could he do so? Sui An was over thirty and didn’t know any martial arts. At most, he could only hold a post as a secretary, which he would certain not be happy about — was he supposed to be an official without going through the imperial exams? The current Emperor didn’t have that capability, to say nothing of Sui Zhou. That would earn him a fatal scolding by civil officials, and a very probable name in the history books as a treacherous subject, which would not land him a good end. For what ending it would be, one only needed to look at Li Zisheng, favored official of the Late Emperor.

From how Sui Zhou saw it, the best option for Sui An was to be a merchant, but he guessed that the other wouldn’t be able to let go of his dignity for that, and bringing it up would be useless. He wasn’t close to his brother, nor would he take it upon himself to say something so hard to hear. If it came out his mouth and went into Sui An’s ears, he would definitely think that his little brother was mocking him.

Therefore, every time Sui Zhou returned home and happened to run into his brother and his sister-in-law, it would be a rather uninteresting affair.

Clearly, they were brothers that could not possibly be more related by blood, but the gap between them now resembled a chasm, leaving them unable to communicate any which way. The older brother found his younger brother displeasing to the eye, and the younger brother had nothing to say to his older brother. The Sui parents were stuck between a rock and a hard place, unsure of how to resolve this, the atmosphere only turning more awkward.

Things would be better if Tang Fan were around. His current status was valuable, after all, and Sui An wouldn’t dare to be discourteous in front of him. Also, even if the two families were close as could be, Lady Jiao would not so easily pop out whenever she wanted. If he wasn’t around and only Sui Zhou was, though, she would have no need to avoid taboo.

Like now, for example.

Sui Zhou came to gift things, but it was never easy to just leave after they were. Mother Sui ordered for tea to be poured, so he sat down, ready to drink it and then get out when he was done.

They couldn’t exactly remain unspeaking when sitting face-to-face. Mother Sui was always concerned about her son, so she asked him about progress on his big day, and slightly complained about how Dowager Zhou — now Grand Empress Dowager — had never sought out a woman for him, leaving him single in the New Year.

“I must inform you that that has nothing to do with the Dowager, Mother,” he answered mildly. “I have no desire to marry.”

She was shocked. “Why is that?”

Not waiting for him to answer, Lady Jiao asked from nearby, “Is it that the rumors outside really are true?”

Mother Sui was confused. “What rumors?”

Lady Jiao glanced at Sui Zhou, then said purposefully, “Everyone in the world is saying that he prefers men over women, so…”

“Guangchuan, uh… um… is what she said the truth?” Mother Sui quickly asked her son.

Sui Zhou was not surprised int he least. “Where did those rumors that ‘everyone knows about’ come from, sister-in-law? The Brocade Guard’s eyes and ears are all over the country, yet I’ve never heard of rumors like that. Instead, I’ve heard that you’ve been giving the Sui’s money to supplement your natal family; does my brother know about that?”

Feeling all of the Sui family’s eyes suddenly land upon her, Lady Jiao flushed, anxious. “Wh-what are you saying?! Don’t you slander me! When have I ever done that?!”

“There’s records at the Northern Bastion Office, of course, stating time and location. Your denial won’t stand up against them.”

“Oh, good! You’ve become a major official now! How amazing for you!” she raged. “You don’t want to find a position for your brother, and even keep tallies on your own family… ah! What are you trying to do?!”

She swallowed back the rest of her speech, looking on in terror as Sui Zhou drew his sabre, it sharp blade shining with icy light. Without the sheath’s cover, the spring-gilt sabre, which had drunk immeasurable amounts of blood, immediately gave off a dense killing aura, forcing Lady Jiao back a few steps. Recalling that her husband was next to her, she quickly hid behind him, fearing that Sui Zhou would angrily cut down his own sister-in-law.

Sui Zhou glanced askew at her, gaze frosty, without a trace of emotion. That frigidness caused her to jolt, and she couldn’t help but tightly grip her husband’s sleeve.

“I wasn’t going to ask after my brother’s family business, but since you lack propriety, sister-in-law, and want to be in my business as well as recklessly criticize how the Brocade Guard conducts investigations, are you thinking of spending some time in the Bastille?”

The corner of his mouth had hooked into a mocking arc, but to Lady Jiao, he looked no different from an evil spirit demanding her life. She wanted to answer back, but felt apprehensive, forced to shut her mouth out of fear of encroaching on some taboo again.

Sui An was slightly fearful of his little brother, too, but he had to have some face in front of his parents and wife. “Guangchuan, there’s a saying that goes, ‘The eldest sister-in-law is like a mother.’ How can you talk about yours like that?” he said, frowning.

“Our mother is still alive. How can a sister-in-law be like her? Are you not afraid of disappointing Mother by saying something like that?”

Being exposed to literature and hanging out Tang Fan for so long these years had given Sui Zhou some speaking skills.

Sui An had nothing to answer with, of course.

Even if he could win arguing with these people, Sui Zhou would not get a single sense of achievement. Seeing them like this, he felt a bit fed up. One touch on his cup told him that it had gone cold, so he simply rose to bid farewell to his parents, prepared to leave this place.

“Guangchuan!” Sui An shouted, catching up to him from behind when he arrived at the main gate. “What you just said about your sister-in-law giving money to her natal family… was it true?”

“Whether it is or isn’t, you would know if you ask her. Why the need to come ask me?” Sui Zhou threw down that answer, then left without turning back.

After leaving the Sui home, he was not in a rush to return home, taking a detour to his maternal grandmother’s neighboring home.

Over the years, Old Madam Zhou had gone up in age and didn’t want to be abroad with her son, so she had returned to the capital. She had maids serving all around her, and her grandchildren came to see her often, giving her an enjoyable life. It was absolutely unlike her daughter’s household, where trouble was always made when there was no reason for it.

Sui Zhou was taken to meet his grandmother by an older Zhou maid, then saw that Tang Fan was already sitting in the hall. It was unknown what he said, but it made the Madam laugh without cease, rocking back and forth, nearly crying from laughter.

As soon as he saw this, the cold indifference he had from the Sui household entirely melted and softened, with even his hand that gripped his sabre loosening up by a lot.

Drinking Vinegar

Madam Zhou was not too blind yet, seeing Sui Zhou come in from afar. “Ah, my dear grandson is here!”

“I hope you are doing well, Grandmother, and wish that your fortune be as vast as the East Sea, and that you live as long as Mount Nan,” Sui Zhou said, cupping his hands in respect.

She was happy to see that spry energy, quickly gesturing for him to come forward. She pulled him over to take a look at him, then had him sit, grinning wide. “Come here, come here! You haven’t been around for almost a month; Grandma thought that you were so busy, you forgot about me!”*

Madam Zhou was not too blind yet, seeing Sui Zhou come in from afar. “Ah, my dear grandson is here!”

“I hope you are doing well, Grandmother, and wish that your fortune be as vast as the East Sea, and that you live as long as Mount Nan,” Sui Zhou said, cupping his hands in respect.

She was happy to see that spry energy, quickly gesturing for him to come forward. She pulled him over to take a look at him, then had him sit, grinning wide. “Come here, come here! You haven’t been around for almost a month; Grandma thought that you were so busy, you forgot about me!”*

When facing his grandmother that had cherished him ever since he was a child, Sui Zhou couldn’t keep his cold face on. “No matter how busy this grandson is with work, I will still come by to see you.”

Madam Zhou had the maids bring out candied fruits for the two to eat. Unable to withstand his elder’s enthusiasm, Sui Zhou picked up a piece of candied mandarine and put it in his mouth.

Unexpectedly, the Madam smiled and said, “Are you two of one mind or something? Runqing just picked out a candied fruit when I told him to eat, too.”

Of course we’re of one mind, Sui Zhou thought, but the Madam didn’t know the details, and it wouldn’t be a good idea to excite an elder about something like this. He only gave a vague hum.

Observing his words and actions, the Madam immediately asked, “Were you wronged in that house?”

Sui Zhou was caught off guard, shaking his head to deny it. “No.”

She was not too happy. “You don’t need to keep it from me. Can’t you tell your own grandma if you’re upset? Just tell me that your parents treated you unfairly, and I’ll go scold them later!”

Just Like how the Sui parents preferred their eldest son, Madam Zhou cherished Sui Zhou the most, and she was displeased to hear him get pushed around.

Sui Zhou was a bit amused. He was no longer a child that could be wronged, but her goodwill still moved him. “It’s nothing, Grandmother. No can push me around, don’t you worry.”

Truthfully, there was no need for Sui Zhou to speak. The Madam knew as well that there was nothing more than kitchen scrap-tier things going on in that home.

Sui An’s mind was high up in the sky. Unfortunately, both his talent and luck were not that great, and he had not been able to get any scholarly honors after spending half of his life at it. It was good that his familial situation left him with no worries about food or clothing. If he could be at peace with his situation, it would be a good life for him, as the poor commonfolk nearby probably wouldn’t be able to live his rich man life even if they struggled for most of theirs. However, poor people had poor people hardships, and rich people had rich people unhappinesses — Sui An didn’t need to scramble for food and clothing, but concentrate on the imperial exams that he might not be able to attain in all his life. No one could persuade him otherwise, which undoubtedly made them feel pretty powerless.

Madam Zhou had harped on him for this plenty of times before. Sadly, Sui An’s mind was so set, he wouldn’t listen to anyone else. If she said too much, he would instead think that she was biased towards Sui Zhou. With no way to handle him, she had to let him go his own way. If even his own parents didn’t think the same, why would she, an old woman, waste thoughts on it?

Still, as that was so, Sui An had married a wife that shared his same idea. Lady Jiao was also of the mindset to make her husband stand out from the crowd. Sui An had only been at about fifty-percent, and then she had egged him into eight-percent, only for him to be repeatedly disappointed on his exam path. In contrast, Sui Zhou had had a swift rise on his rose, even holding a noble title on top of being the Brocade Guard boss, which gave him real authority, increasingly clashing against his older brother’s downtrodden state. That was the source of the family’s lack of peace.

“You moving out a long time ago was a good thing, as you won’t be bothered by what you can’t see. No mater what, going home a few times a year is enough to comfort your parents. They’re being fools, but Grandma isn’t. Who is right and wrong, I understand very well.” She pat Sui Zhou’s hand consolingly.

Sui Zhou was kind of unsure how to react. “Grandma, I don’t mind so much.”

That was the truth. Sui An had seen a tiny fraction of the world all throughout his life, so he was brooding. Why would Sui Zhou place any importance upon that smidgen of rottenness at home?

One’s scope of vision and mind were different, so what they saw and what they did were different, too. Sui Zhou had to deal with more than ten different things every single day, all of them involving major cases (now that he was the head honcho, there was no need to ask the Commanding Envoy to personally take care of anything that wasn’t major), so where would he have the spare thought to bother with whether his brother’s attitude towards him was good or bad, or whether his parents were a little biased towards that brother? Only if he had nothing to do every day would he focus his energy on stuff like that.

Madam Zhou was very gratified. Out of the Sui’s, Sui Zhou alone was enough. “You being able to not makes Grandma very happy. You have a friend like Runqing that can make up for the lack. A thousand gold is easy to get, while one friend is hard to find; you have to really treasure him, and if you have things to say to him, say them clearly. You mustn’t cause any misunderstandings, else you’ll regret them afterwards! The older I get, the more things I can see. Human lives last only a few short decades, so living life happily is the most important thing. As long as you don’t hurt anyone else, you don’t need to overly restrict yourself.”

She was speaking with deep meaning, appearing to refer to something else, and also seeming to be passing on her dying words. Sui Zhou didn’t love to hear it. “Why say such things for the New Year, Grandmother? Runqing and I will always be fine. You don’t need to worry about us at all.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” The Madam laughed, not saying anything else.

Out of the Zhou home, light snow steadily fell.

Sui Zhou had brought an umbrella, but only one. Tang Fan wanted to turn around and ask for another from the Zhou maid, only for Sui Zhou to stop him and say that one was enough.

Tang Fan didn’t insist. The New Year holiday was a rare time off for them, and they didn’t need to be in a rush.

The capital streets were usually bustling and way too busy, making it hard for one to experience the tranquility of a small Jiangnan town, but now that it had suddenly started snowing, many people that had wanted to come out refused to. It caused a lot let people to be on the streets, making it seem a lot quieter.

They were shoulder-to-shoulder, walking forward slowly, not speaking while they enjoyed their free time and comfort that weren’t easy to come by.

The snow was getting heavier and heavier.

Sui Zhou seamlessly shifted the umbrella over to Tang Fan, a lot of snow building up on his own shoulders.

Seeing that, Tang Fan said, “There’s a teashack on the road. How about we go there for a rest first?”

“Okay.”

There were not many customers around, only a scant few people seated at the tables. Noticing the two of them enter, a maiden quickly greeted them. “Please sit, guests. What would you like to drink?”

Whenever the two of them went around, Tang Fan would always put in the effort of talking, this time being no exception. Hearing this, he laughed. “Don’t you drink tea at a teashack? What else would we drink?”

The maiden’s pretty eyes shone. “That may be so at other teashacks, but ours is different. Loquat flower tea, osmanthus flower tea, average wild tea, and plum juice; you may choose what you like from those.”

Tang Fan was a little surprised. “There’s loquat flower tea at this time of year? The North doesn’t have any, does it?”

She smiled. “Ours was planted in Anhui, dried during the summer, and brought with the family that grew it when they came to the capital. Loquat flowers wet the throat, which is good to drink in wintertime. Would you like two cups to taste?”

Since she had said that, Tang Fan couldn’t help but approve, nodding. “Two cups, then. Thanks.”

She smiled fully at him, going to leave. Her figure was not really seductive, yet it had a grace to it.

As soon as she was gone, Sui Zhou said coldly, “She likes you.”

“…”

* I remember saying something about how not-strict self-appellations (this humble official, this servant, etc.) vs. plain I (我) are, and how both terms can and often do appear in the same sentence. Here’s proof of that, from the original text itself: 你都快一个月没过来了，外祖母还以为你忙忘了我呢！

Miscellaneous Stuff

Tang Fan’s mouth twitched. “…I didn’t think so. Why do you?”

Sui Zhou coldly huffed. “Corners of the mouth. Eyebrows. I can tell at a glance.”

The other laughed in disbelief. “Are you really treating me as a piece of treasure? Envoy Sui, I’m not silver. Not everyone’s going to want me once they see me!”

Sui Zhou looked at him expressionlessly. “You’re my treasure.”

While this man typically didn’t give romantic overtures, if he got serious, what he said would make those experienced in love feel themselves to be inferior.

Mister Tang didn’t say anything at that, simply bowing his head to drink his tea, as if he hadn’t heard. Scarlet slowly creeped up from his neck to faintly dye his cheeks red, though.

The snow still fell, getting bigger and bigger. Fewer and fewer people were on the street, and some of the customers that had thought to leave after finishing their drinks were forced to sit back down again, allowing the proprietor to replenish their cups with hot tea.

In Tang Fan and Sui Zhou’s opinion, though, this quiet time of floating through life was exceptionally valuable. They had no intent to get on the road, still sitting at the table and watching the snow outside coat the roofs and streets. The world was a white stretch, immediately giving a sense of peace and beauty.

The tea-making maiden quickly came over with two cups of loquat flower tea. The tea was hot, but in such cold whether, it soon became a suitable temperature for drinking.

Tang Fan took a sip. It had the unique taste of loquat flowers, some slight sourness within the sweetness, both refreshing and pleasant.

“It’s good,” he appraised.

She was quite happy. “Both of you are officials of status, so being able to receive your praises is great!”

“How do you know that we’re officials?” he asked, very interested.

“You need to ask?” she said with a smile. “Even though you’re both wearing ordinary clothes, this gentleman has a sabre at his side. If I’m not wrong, it should be a spring-gilt sabre?”

Tang Fan raised a brow. “Good eyes. Do you really sell tea?”

The maiden was faintly pleased. “Of course. This lowly girl has been in the capital for about six years. A few years back, I helped my family sell cloth at Dengshikou, and my cousin and I branched out into a teashack to do business here; I see a lot of nobles, and my eyes work pretty well. Talking about you, compared to this other gent, your status must be higher than his.”

While she spoke, she didn’t forget to send Tang Fan a flirty glance. Her looks might pale compared to Xiao Wu, but when it came to her charms and grace, she was not any sort of lacking. From how her hai was done up, she had to be a widow, so her words and actions were a lot bolder than the average woman’s.

Unfortunately, that flirty glance was wasted on a ‘blind’ man. Tang Fan was unmoved, and she instead made the other one unhappy.

“Why are you not leaving?” Sui Zhou asked coldly.

She jumped in fright. Feeling a bit wronged and displeased, she knew that since the other had a spring-gilt sabre, she couldn’t afford to provoke him. Thus, she didn’t say answered that, beamed at him, and switched targets to focus on him.

“Why so fierce, Sir? I was only making a wild guess. If I said something wrong, you can just tell me,” she said with a coquettish smile.

Tang Fan was refined, handsome, and, on account of the power he held, some eminence was added to his modest gentleman demeanor. A man like him was always the favorite of most women, hence why this maiden had the courage to strike up a conversation with him first. Unfortunately, he didn’t take the opportunity, and the other man was too insensitive, forcing her to give up on that and turn her attention towards the man with the spring-gilt sabre. With one look, she discovered that despite him not being the type of man she typically liked, he had a different sort of manly attractiveness. The cut of his high-bridged nose and eyes were deeper than the average Central Plainsman, having a bit of a foreign tinge to them.

“Are you a Semu, Sir?” she wondered.

Sui Zhou remained silent, even completely ignoring her, drinking his tea.

Instead, Tang Fan took it upon himself to clear up her awkward position. “He’s a born and raised native of the Great Ming, with no Semu blood. Can I trouble you with refilling our hot water, Miss?”

The woman realized that she was being tactfully driven away. While reluctant to leave, Sui Zhou’s gaze and expression were too murderous, so she agreed and left, occasionally looking back as she walked.

Tang Fan used that opportunity to poke fun. “See? She isn’t just looking at me, but you, too. Clearly, as long as a man is good-looking, she likes them.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll bully you extra hard tonight?” Sui Zhou countered.

That unexpected question almost put the tea in Tang Fan’s mouth through his nose, causing him to start violently coughing.

Sui Zhou casually pat his back. “Drink normally. Are you distracted by something?”

And who was the one that caused that distraction?

Tang Fan lifted his head to glare viciously at him.

Whenever a new Emperor ascended the throne, he would always carry out new policies. Even if it was simple posturing, he had to put on a show of revitalization, as if not doing so would make him lack proof that he was wise.

The current Emperor was no exception, but his new policies were chiefly focused on cleaning up his father’s mess. He banished the demonic monks, and those guilty of terrible crimes, like Ji Xiao, were sentenced to beheadings in order to set an example.

At the Cabinet’s suggestion, those monasteries that cost an extravagant amount of money to build were all put a stop to. If construction had begun with yet to finish, their materials were to be removed, then either used in the repairs of various capital bureaus or put away for use in repairing palace halls someday, so as not to waste even more money later. Those that had been finished would have the monks within ousted, the Court no longer funding it, and all the land bestowed to them taken back.

As for the Wan party and the people that had relied on it, they were all regarded separately, in accordance with their circumstances. Wan An, who had switched sides at the last second and had both blame and merits, was allowed to retire on his own initiative, whereupon the Emperor granted him gold and allowed him to return to his hometown for retirement, which preserved all of his titles and integrity. When it came to Yin Zhi, Peng Hua, and the rest of them, however, there was no such politeness; the Emperor straight-up stripped them of their official’s hats and drove them out of the capital, with those like Li Zisheng straight-up expelled from the city. As for Liang Fang, the Great Eunuch that had colluded with both the Wan party and the White Lotus Society, he was dragged to Caishikou to be interrogated and executed.

With all of that properly handled, everybody finally sighed in relief.

Compared to previous Emperor of this Dynasty, Hongzhi was already being very generous. His birth mother’s death was a mystery, with the Wan siblings having a lot of involvement in it, but after his ascension, he didn’t imitate the style of Emperors past by executing the entire family, merely letting it go in a light way.

Throughout time, where there was struggle, there would be conflicts of interest. Once one party fell, the other party could reap benefits from it. At no point in time had there ever been an exception to this. No matter how noble one’s original justifications and root origins were, once their own interests got into the mix, no one would be any sort of pure and clean.

For that reason, the Wan party’s fall was much of the same. When many urged for the new Emperor to counterattack, he took over, did not continue to pursue them, and even followed the Late Emperor’s last wish: he didn’t touch Consort Wan’s coffin, preserved her posthumous title, and left her family alone.

The Cabinet supported his decision, of course.

Regardless of how great their former enmity of the Wan party was, competent officials and upright officials were different, in the end. The former had things they would and would not do, retaining their principles while also doing what was appropriate in certain situations, and the latter would do anything to defend righteousness, snuffing out all darkness.

But darkness could never go completely snuffed out. Only went the light had the advantage would darkness hide in a corner, too afraid to come out.

The ultimate aim of Tang Fan and the rest’s actions was simply to make the country be all the better a place, rather than have parties fighting each other. An Emperor that was snared in hatred and only only wanted revenge was bound to not bring many benefits to the country or its people. A generous, compassionate Emperor was a needed condition for a flourishing and well-governed era.

The Hongzhi Emperor’s ascension undoubtedly foretold of a finally-imminent era where light had the upper hand.

Come the second year of Hongzhi, those that ought to be out of the Cabinet had left, and Liu Ji remained. On account of his sudden change in style, instead of doing mediocre, useless things like he had in the Chenghua period, he became diligent, bold, and boldly stating his mind. Hongzhi had originally wanted to have him go Wan An’s same path by requesting that he go home in retirement, but now that he had gone from a mediocre official to a loyal official, there was no excuse for him to drive him out with. He had no choice but to let him continue to occupy the Head Vizier position.

The one advantage to Liu Ji staying in his spot was that, in order to curry favor with the Emperor, he demonstrated that he was truly different from before. As he couldn’t keep going down his route of mediocrity, he had to at least show some valor as the Head Vizier. The new laws Tang Fan brought up and the use of force against the Tartars that Liu Jian advocated for were passed along during this period, one-by-one.

The Hongzhi Court truly did gradually come to make a new ambience, but a genuinely huge incident occurred on the third year of Hongzhi.

In its spring, a small gang of Japanese pirates came ashore in Zhejiang, then burned, killed, and raised the citizens all along the coast, even invading Shaoxing City. It wasn’t until the Zhejiang Metropolitan Commanding Envoy led troops in a rescue that the pirates calmly left by sea, sweeping a vast quantity of wealth and women out with them right before.

In the span of that brief day, Shaoxing City had been plundered. Taking advantage of when everyone had been caught off guard and too slow to organize a counterattack, the pirates had struck first, slaughtered most of the soldiers, and raided nearly all of the city’s wealthy households clean. On top of that, the Shaoxing City Prefectural Magistrate had been abducted, and chose to kill himself in order to keep full integrity.

Word of this incident reached the capital, immediately shocking every level of society. Everyone found it hard to imagine that the vicious pirates, who had numbered a thousand at most, could invade Shaoxing Prefecture.

However, after investigations, everyone learned that the pirates had used the false identities of Japanese tribute-bringers to hijack a Great Ming government vessel that had been going to trade with Japan, then pretended to be Ming peoples to turn the ship around and return to Ming. Upon colluding with Great Ming people, they had learned that Shaoxing City’s defenses were virtually nothing, and used that to attack it with ease. Worried that the government army would soon come knocking, the pirates hadn’t stayed for long, merely sweeping the valuables clean, abducting a bunch of women, patting their clothes off, and slipping away.

After Xuande, the Court had gradually implemented a seafaring ban. Those almighty Great Ming warships were now nowhere to be seen, with even many of the shipyards abandoned. The only government vessels around today had limited fighting power, their soldiers rarely prepared effectively for battles at sea. How could they ever catch up to the pirates, who had seafared for years and had ample experience? That wasn’t even mentioning how they had insiders passing them information; long before the Ming army had arrived, they had already boarded and sailed swiftly away, causing the army to helplessly watch them exit the scene.

This trade under treatise was the sole official method of trade between the Ming Dynasty and the rest of the world, after the maritime ban. It was common for Japanese pirates to rub government trade vessels, but it was practically unheard of for them to openly go looting the Great Ming like this!

At the end of things, were the pirate too arrogant, or was the army too incompetent? Were they going to harshly crack down on the pirates, or were they going to stop even the trade treaty, completely severing the Great Ming’s passage to the world beyond, as well as severing the outside world’s desire to covet the Great Ming?

The Court was arguing non-stop about these very things.