Mu Ying regarded Empress Ma as his adoptive mother. Every time he returned from battle, after presenting himself before the emperor to report on his duties, he would come to Kunning Palace to visit Empress Ma. “Your Majesty looks well, but His Majesty seems to have grown thinner.”
Empress Ma said, “His Majesty handles ten thousand affairs daily, often working until the third or fourth watch before resting. During the busiest times, he must review one thousand one hundred and sixty memorials in just eight days. Each memorial averages two matters, meaning His Majesty processes about four hundred affairs daily. Even an iron man would be worn thin by such labor. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen His Majesty for seven days now.”
Upon hearing this, Mu Ying smiled and said, “His Majesty is a wise ruler, diligent in government affairs and caring for the people.”
Among the more than twenty adopted sons, Mu Ying had distinguished himself to be enfeoffed as Marquis Xiping, enjoying continuous imperial favor. He was absolutely a clever man who understood well what words should be spoken and what should not.
In truth, the reason the Hongwu Emperor was suddenly so busy this year that he hadn’t entered the imperial harem for seven days was that he had abolished the position of chancellor, having Chancellor Hu Weiyong and his entire family executed and his three generations exterminated. Without the chancellor-led Secretariat to assist in managing state affairs, the Hongwu Emperor handled everything alone, doing the work that a hundred people had previously done—no wonder he was so busy.
Why did His Majesty kill the chancellor? This requires explaining the struggle for the chancellorship in early Ming.
Since the founding of the Great Ming, there had been two chancellors. The first chancellor was Li Shanzhang. When Li Shanzhang retired to his hometown, two court ministers, Liu Ji and Hu Weiyong, competed for the chancellor position.
This was a struggle for the chancellor position, as well as a factional struggle at court, with the Huaixi Party led by Hu Weiyong and the Zhedong Party led by Liu Ji competing for the chancellor position. The Huaixi Party consisted almost entirely of fellow natives from Fengyang, Anhui, and their adherents, while the Zhedong Party was mainly composed of scholars from Jiangnan.
Ultimately, Li Shanzhang recommended his fellow townsman and in-law Hu Weiyong, and the Hongwu Emperor also favored Hu Weiyong. Liu Ji gloomily resigned and returned to his hometown in Qingtian County, Zhejiang, dying of depression a few years later.
Last year, in the twelfth year of Hongwu, in the sixth month, Liu Ji’s eldest son Liu Lian had a dispute with Hu Weiyong’s son. During the scuffle, Liu Lian fell into a well.
Splash—he died.
The Liu family demanded that Hu Weiyong’s son pay with his life, but the Liu family had little influence, while the other party was the chancellor’s son. In the end, Yingtian Prefecture ruled it an accidental death, and Hu Weiyong’s son remained unharmed.
On the forty-ninth day after Liu Lian’s death, Hu Weiyong’s son was driving his carriage through the marketplace when a carriage came from somewhere and sideswiped him. Hu Weiyong’s son flew into a rage and began racing carriages with the other party. The carriage overturned, and Hu Weiyong’s son broke his neck.
Crack—he died.
Having lost his beloved son, Hu Weiyong in his fury killed the coachman with a sword. The coachman was a law-abiding citizen, and his wife beat the imperial complaint drum to file charges. Zhu Yuanzhang was furious and wanted to prosecute the chancellor.
A life for a life—but Hu Weiyong was a founding hero with an imperially bestowed golden scroll and iron tablet inscribed with “Founding Assistant in Governance and Loyalty,” commonly known as a death-exemption medallion. It stated that except for the grave crime of treason and rebellion, he could be exempted from death three times. So Hu Weiyong used his death-exemption medallion to escape disaster.
This year, in the thirteenth year of Hongwu, on New Year’s Day, a fountain suddenly appeared in Hu Weiyong’s garden—an auspicious omen. Hu Weiyong invited the Hongwu Emperor to his home to appreciate this auspicious sign, hoping to repair the rift between sovereign and minister caused by the coachman’s murder.
However, halfway to Hu Weiyong’s residence, the Hongwu Emperor’s horse suddenly refused to continue. The Hongwu Emperor had an ominous premonition, returned to the palace midway, and ordered Jinyiwei Commander Mao Qiang to search and inspect Hu Weiyong’s residence.
The Jinyiwei surrounded the chancellor’s mansion and discovered large numbers of armed assassins and weapons hidden in the mansion’s wall cavities!
Hu Weiyong protested his innocence loudly, claiming he had built the wall cavities only for self-protection, insisting he had never harbored intentions to harm the emperor or rebel, maintaining that someone had framed him.
The evidence was irrefutable. The Hongwu Emperor was furious, ordering the extermination of the entire family. In a single day, the once all-powerful chancellor’s mansion was reduced to ashes, and the entire Hu family household register was wiped out.
With party leader Hu Weiyong beheaded, any members of the Huaixi Party who protested Hu Weiyong’s innocence were imprisoned by the Jinyiwei, all found to have evidence of conspiring with Hu Weiyong in rebellion. Their entire families were exterminated—another case of entire household registers dying at once.
In the spring of the thirteenth year of Hongwu, the smell of blood above the Meridian Gate in Nanjing never dissipated.
Using Hu Weiyong’s alleged rebellion as pretext, the Hongwu Emperor simply abolished the Secretariat, eliminating the chancellor’s power as a check on imperial authority, concentrating all power in his own hands, and declaring that the position of chancellor would never be established again.
Now no one dared question the Hongwu Emperor’s decisions—everyone feared the Jinyiwei’s methods.
Hu Weiyong became the last chancellor in history. Thereafter, throughout the Ming and Qing dynasties, though there were ministers like Zhang Juzheng and Liu Yong who wielded chancellor-like power, none ever held the title of chancellor again. This position vanished forever.
Mu Ying was a military general who never associated with civil officials. Having heard of the court upheavals, he instructed his family to absolutely stay out of the matter and avoid any involvement.
Even when chatting with Empress Ma, Mu Ying steadfastly avoided mentioning politics or military affairs, only discussing household matters.
When the conversation turned to his eldest legitimate son Mu Chun, Mu Ying rubbed his forehead as if having a headache. “He’s been mischievous since childhood—I have absolutely no way to handle him. Thanks to His Majesty’s grace, he was sent to the Imperial Academy to study. With so many excellent scholars and literati there, I thought proximity to virtue would improve him somewhat. Who would have expected him to skip classes every few days? His Majesty just told me that whenever the Imperial Academy’s chancellor has an audience, he invariably comes to complain. Having His Majesty, who handles ten thousand daily affairs, also manage my unfilial son—this is truly my failing as a father.”
Empress Ma disagreed, laughing: “When you were seven years old, raised at mine and His Majesty’s knees, you never spoke or smiled carelessly, more mature than someone seventeen. You understood things early because hardship made you grow up prematurely.”
“Little Chun was born into wealth and privilege, making up for the mischievous childhood you never had—that’s why he’s doubly naughty compared to ordinary boys.”
Mu Ying looked helpless: “So you’re saying I should be grateful for his mischief?”
Seeing her adopted son’s helpless expression, Empress Ma smiled knowingly: “Little Chun may be mischievous, but his nature is kind. Today he saw a newly arrived female official without shoes, looking quite pitiful. He requested a favor from me to give her a pair of shoes. As long as someone has a good heart, they will never go astray in the future.”
Mu Ying wasn’t surprised his eldest son would do such a thing. Mu Chun had been brought into the palace for upbringing since infancy. The Hongwu Emperor and Empress Ma doted on him especially, nurturing a willful temperament. Mu Chun’s interactions with people in the harem were completely without reserve.
Mu Chun had lived in the harem until age seven, when Empress Ma reluctantly sent him home. The Hongwu Emperor even bestowed upon his adopted grandson a jade tablet for unrestricted access to the Forbidden City, facilitating his “frequent visits home.”
However, Mu Chun was no longer seven but seventeen years old. That he dared associate with palace female officials required proper management to prevent future troubles.
Though inwardly furious, Mu Ying remained outwardly calm: “Yes, I know Mu Chun has a kind nature.”
Empress Ma said: “Mu Chun is seventeen this year. You led the third northern expedition this time, achieving great victory and establishing great merit. Why not use this great achievement to request a favor—to have Mu Chun appointed as heir apparent to the Marquis Xiping title?”
Mu Ying carefully considered his words: “Mu Chun is my eldest legitimate son and will naturally inherit the family title in the future. It’s just that he’s still young and has no achievements to his name. If I requested the heir apparent appointment now, it would certainly not convince others. My own title was accumulated bit by bit through military achievements. I hope that in the future Mu Chun can achieve merit and serve the Great Ming, learning that rewards come only through effort. When that time comes, I will certainly request the heir apparent appointment for him.”
Empress Ma felt her adopted son’s reasoning was sound. Since the heir apparent position was already assured, it would be better to first temper Mu Chun’s character.
As they were talking, Female Secretary Cai, who handled documents for the Hongwu Emperor, came to Kunning Palace with a message.
Secretary Cai said: “His Majesty will come to Kunning Palace for the midday meal, hosting a banquet for Marquis Xiping.”
Empress Ma smiled: “Understood.”
She then joked with Mu Ying: “You see, nowadays I need your presence to even see His Majesty.”
While Kunning Palace enjoyed harmonious family bliss with its scene of maternal and filial affection, in the Six Bureaus and One Department east of the Western Six Palaces and west of Cangzhen Gate, forty-four newly arrived female officials were receiving instruction in the Directorate of Palace Administration’s courtyard, the atmosphere solemn.
The Director of the Palace Administration was surnamed Fan, from Qingyuan County, Jiangxi. Widowed young, she had been selected to enter the palace as a female secretary in the third year of Hongwu. After ten years of service to the Ming court, though only in her early thirties, she had already attained the fifth-rank position of Palace Administrator.
The Palace Administration supervised discipline and punishment, yet Director Fan appeared to be a gentle and amiable woman, inspiring feelings of warmth and approachability.
Director Fan first invited the forty-four “travel-weary” female officials to sit down, also ordering palace maids to serve tea and refreshments.
Director Fan said: “Wearing such thick platform shoes, walking from the Inner Palace to the Palace Administration—over ten li—you must all be tired?”
Hu Shanwei thought: Absolutely! My feet are nearly broken! But she joined the other female officials in saying: “This humble official serves the court willingly—not tired at all.”
Director Fan’s smile disappeared: “The first rule of the Palace Administration is: do not lie.”
The new female officials no longer dared speak, not even daring to drink tea!
But Director Fan smiled again: “Everyone relax—ignorance is no crime. The palace has many rules. You must study regulations in the Palace Administration for at least half a month and pass examinations before taking up your posts.”
After the new female officials had tea and refreshments and rested briefly, with Hu Shanwei slowly regaining feeling in her feet, Director Fan ordered them to form ranks and led them out of the Palace Administration and Cangzhen Gate, walking east until they reached West Long Street, which ran north-south through the Western Six Palaces.
At the entrance to West Long Street stood a black iron stele inscribed with eleven characters: “Eunuchs shall not interfere in government affairs, violators will be executed.”
Simple, brutal, and direct.
Director Fan pointed to the first new female official in line: “Starting with you, each person read it aloud once—louder.”
“Eunuchs shall not interfere in government affairs, violators will be executed!”
This was repeated forty-four times.
The entire East Long Street echoed with the female officials’ recitation of the stele inscription, continuously.
Director Fan asked: “Do you remember it?”
The new female officials replied in unison: “We remember.”
Director Fan said: “This is an imperial inscription personally written by His Majesty, warning the eunuchs and female officials of the harem not to interfere in politics—those who do will be executed. Besides West Long Street, the opposite East Long Street also has an identical iron stele. These two streets are the necessary passages through the harem, so your first lesson is to memorize this inscription, to integrate these eleven characters into your blood, and never forget them.”
The new female officials agreed submissively.
Director Fan said: “In the harem, at least a hundred things can cost you your life. Interfering in politics is the foremost. No matter who you are, no matter what position you achieve in the future or how much prestige you attain, once you interfere in politics, even if you are a fifth-rank Palace Supervisor, you will be immediately executed.”
“Now, you will read this one hundred times right here.”
Hu Shanwei stood at the end of the line reciting palace regulations until her voice was hoarse.
Many years later, through successive palace upheavals and struggles for succession in the Ming court, Hu Shanwei would be a key figure in each, placing emperor after emperor on the dragon throne.
Looking back at the iron steles on East and West Long Streets, she would deeply understand the eternal truth that rules are dead, but people are alive.
But at this moment, like all the new female officials, she was trembling with fear, walking on thin ice, even talking in her sleep about “Eunuchs shall not interfere in government affairs, violators will be executed!”