For Zhu Yuanzhang, his feelings at that moment were somewhat complicated.
A brother dies of illness, his great ambitions unfulfilled. What a pity. Yet people claim that he was murdered by me.
Liu Bowen dies after being harmed, yet people call it a peaceful end. What a bitter irony. It seems that later generations hold many prejudices against the Hongwu reign.
Among the Twenty-Four Generals of Huaixi, if there was truly someone to whom Zhu Yuanzhang could entrust his life, the first name would be Xu Da.
Even taking a step back, the Hu Yuan had not yet been completely destroyed. How could he possibly cut off his own arm at such a time?
Such ridiculous rumors, not even worth a laugh, were actually recorded seriously in books. And judging from the words of that voice from the future, quite a few people seemed to believe them.
When he further recalled that later generations even said Liu Ji would still count as having a "peaceful end" even if he had truly been poisoned, the first thought that came to Zhu Yuanzhang's mind was this:
What exactly happened in the later years of the Hongwu reign?
How could it lead the scholars of later Ming to believe such laughable rumors?
And the final sentence from the voice had already hinted at the answer.
It had just said that Li Shanchang lived to the age of seventy-seven. But from the context, it seemed that he was executed for crimes at the age of seventy-seven.
Yet the ripples created by that short sentence were far from simple.
When later generations speak of the founding nobility of the Ming, they always mention the grand enfeoffment of the third year of Hongwu. For the people present in Huagai Hall, however, that event had occurred only ten years ago. Such a major matter remained vivid in memory.
Among those rewarded, the most prestigious titles were the Six Dukes. When their ranking was arranged, Li Shanchang had even been placed above the victorious Grand General Xu Da, becoming the foremost among the six dukes and the first among the meritorious nobles.
Thus after Zhu Yuanzhang regained his composure slightly, the first thought that appeared in his mind was:
Would I really execute Li Shanchang?
The second question quickly followed.
For what crime would I execute him?
There were many possibilities he could speculate about, yet one thread immediately came to mind.
The iron certificate granting immunity from death had been mentioned by the voice from the future. It had even specifically discussed the special favor granted to Li Shanchang's certificate. Combining that with the laws written on the iron register, the Ming emperor already formed a faint guess in his mind.
From the perspective of the Crown Prince, Zhu Biao could clearly see the change in his father's expression.
At first there had been lamentation.
Then contemplation.
Now there was faint anger as he turned toward the Grand Censor and demanded:
"Did the Duke of Han ever teach me such things?"
Zhu Biao turned his head as well, but for a moment he felt somewhat surprised.
Of course he was not unfamiliar with Li Shanchang. His father had mentioned more than once that since the days in Chuzhou he had relied greatly on this "Xiao He." He said it to Zhu Biao, said it during imperial banquets, said it before the civil and military officials, and even said it directly to Li Shanchang himself.
In terms of time, Li Shanchang had joined his father's camp in the fourteenth year of Zhizheng under the Yuan. Zhu Biao himself had been born the following year.
In other words, Li Shanchang had watched him grow up.
This elder always remained calm and composed when facing those above him, possessing the demeanor of a capable prime minister. When dealing with subordinates, however, he could be sharp and fierce like a sudden storm. Whether above or below, he always carried the same confident bearing. His back straight, his head held high.
But now the old man's head had lowered.
His shoulders seemed to sag slightly.
Facing Zhu Yuanzhang's thunderous questioning, he trembled faintly. In the end he forced a bitter smile onto his face and reached up to remove his official crown, holding it in his hands.
"This guilty minister… wishes to present his own confession."
The exchange between ruler and minister caused everyone in Huagai Hall to hold their breath.
After all, they still clearly remembered how wide the accusations had spread the previous year during the case of Hu Weiyong.
At that time there had even been rumors that Hu Weiyong was a fellow townsman and close associate of the Grand Censor. Yet the matter had ultimately been left unresolved. Some people guessed that the Grand Censor might simply have been unaware, since he had already retired.
But now it seemed there might be more hidden beneath the surface.
In the silent atmosphere, Zhu Biao clearly heard his mother sigh softly.
That sigh made him feel slightly relieved for Li Shanchang.
After all, in the entire Ming empire, the only person capable of opposing his father's will was his mother.
Even the Crown Prince himself could not do it.
Not many people knew this fact, because his mother was usually not present when the emperor made important decisions. But today happened to be an exception.
Sure enough, Zhu Biao could clearly feel the anger surrounding his father diminish.
Zhu Yuanzhang waved his hand and gave a signal.
Immediately a member of the Jinyiwei hurriedly set down his brush. Walking lightly on tiptoe, he ran over in silence and accepted the official crown from Li Shanchang.
Only then did the emperor wave his hand again.
"Since Shanchang has already accomplished great merit, he should devote himself to mountains and rivers, enriching the literary culture of Great Ming. That may be a blessing for both state and family."
Li Shanchang paid no attention to his somewhat disordered white hair. He kowtowed and thanked the emperor repeatedly.
After hesitating awkwardly for a moment, uncertain whether to advance or retreat, he was waved toward a seat by Zhu Yuanzhang with visible impatience. Only then did he cautiously sit down, placing barely half of himself upon the chair.
The matter seemed temporarily settled.
Yet Zhu Yuanzhang soon noticed his grandnephew peering around curiously.
When he turned his head aside, he heard the young man whispering.
"Gr… Grand Duke Li, did you really accept those two hundred taels of gold? You were always clear-headed in major matters. How did you become confused over such a small thing?"
Zhu Yuanzhang did not look at Li Shanchang's face.
Instead he sighed inwardly.
If someone could truly remain clear-headed in great matters, then perhaps…
But the thought stopped halfway.
Among the old meritorious nobles, how many could truly remain clear-headed in great matters?
---
[Lightscreen]
[No matter how Liu Bowen actually died, from the perspective of Ming politics at the time, his death indeed made Hu Weiyong's position even more secure.
Among the people qualified to suddenly become chancellor, one had died, one had stepped aside, and the remaining one happened to be Old Hu's beloved teacher.
Aside from that, if promotions were based purely on merit, who could compare with me, the First Vice Chancellor who handled government affairs by day and cooked pufferfish at night?
With his position growing ever more secure, Hu Weiyong could finally no longer restrain himself from tasting the wine of power.
Borrowing the words of the "Imperial Uncle," it was simply this: I, Hu Weiyong, have spent my entire life licking boots to reach this position. Can I not enjoy it now? Strike up the music and let the dancing continue!
In truth the structure of the Central Secretariat in the early Ming made the situation obvious.
There were Left and Right Chancellors at the top.
Below them were Left and Right Vice Chancellors.
There were also several Participating Administrators who possessed the authority to express opinions.
The entire system was designed for mutual restraint and supervision. Together they exercised the enormous power of the chancellor.
Yet the authority that should have been shared among at least four people was now concentrated entirely in the hands of Hu Weiyong.
One could easily imagine how satisfying that must have been.
The historical records describe it quite clearly:
"Matters of life and death, promotion and dismissal, he sometimes carried out without reporting to the throne. Memorials submitted by officials within and without the court were first examined by him. Those harmful to himself he would conceal and not report."
To put it plainly, he monopolized power.
The court was equally pragmatic. Since you, Old Hu, are the one who calls the shots, why shouldn't we come to pay our respects at your gate?
"Restless opportunists from every direction, along with meritorious military men who had lost their posts, all rushed to his residence. Gifts of gold, silk, famous horses, and precious curiosities arrived in numbers beyond counting."
By this point the early Ming conflict between the Huai faction and the Zhejiang faction had essentially come to an end.
Using the chancellorship as a blade, Hu Weiyong proclaimed to the entire Ming court:
What Zhejiang, what Huai, what eastern or western factions?
Within Great Ming there can be only one man who speaks with authority.
And that man is me, Hu Weiyong.]