Having settled terms with the Emperor, Zhù Ying made one final request—a personal letter from him: “I need a single written note, so I can present it to the Council of State. Your Majesty need not write anything about matters of state or household affairs in the note—only write that the Prince of Qi’s case is to be handled according to the law, and I will persuade the others not to interfere in your family matters. As for the female officials and female students—Your Majesty need only write ‘approved.’ The argument—I will handle that.”

Not having to expend his own energy on it, the Emperor was happy to play the magnanimous one. He wrote as requested, and in the note, returning a favor as it were, he appended an extra line: that Zhù Ying, in opening her residence, was free to select her own officials.

Zhù Ying said: “My thanks to Your Majesty. The rest is for me to deal with.”

Emperors typically loathed hearing officials say “leave it to me.” But when Zhù Ying said “I will handle it,” the Emperor felt, upon hearing those words, an immediate and pleasant sense of relief. He also smiled and said: “Those with ability bear the heavier burden.”

“I dare not presume. Only doing my utmost.”

Ruler and official, each having achieved what they sought, were both satisfied.

For the Emperor, what mattered most right now was to have the Prince of Qi definitively branded a convicted criminal, and incidentally to make the Empress Dowager behave herself. With his poor health, he could only keep hold of the most critical matters. Moreover, a measure of irreconcilable tension among the Chancellors was not, from the Emperor’s perspective, a bad thing. This kind of instinctive judgment about the state of affairs required no one to teach him—simply by sitting in that position, as long as one was not entirely foolish, a certain sense of what was favorable or unfavorable to the situation would arise naturally on its own.

For Zhù Ying, she had the banner in hand—she could get to work. All she needed was a single crack.

Imperial note tucked on her person, Zhù Ying returned to the Council of State. The other three were all present, and had been working—or half-heartedly pretending to work—for a while.

Sounds of people greeting Zhù Ying could be heard from outside; inside, they set down what they had been holding in their hands. Some feigned drinking tea, some feigned rising to stretch. As Zhù Ying walked in, all three looked toward her. Wang Shuliang probed cautiously: “His Majesty—regarding the Prince of Qi?”

Zhù Ying drew out the imperial note and waved it in the air a couple of times: “Handle it according to the law.”

Shi Jixing said: “Please let me have a look at it.”

If it were truly only “handle according to the law,” the Emperor would not have needed to write anything at all—that had been their position from the start. So why write it out?

Sure enough, when Zhù Ying handed the note to Shi Jixing, he felt immediately that something was off. The ink covered what appeared to be a considerable expanse of writing—not what one would expect of a mere four-character pronouncement. He took it in hand and unfolded it. Shi Jixing did not rush to offer his opinion; instead he looked at Zhù Ying first. Not surprisingly, you.

Wang Shuliang and Yao Chenying passed it between them to read. Yao Chenying was entirely neutral—he said nothing. Zhù Ying’s close association with Yue Miaojun was in a sense a continuation of the alliance with the Zheng family.

Wang Shuliang had already turned the matter over in his mind several times. He had been prepared from the outset to concede a step to Zhù Ying: the Chancellor’s residence had always had female officials already, and appointing more female officials would not be something he objected to. Holding an examination for it was pushing things a bit, however—he could agree to Zhù Ying simply recommending candidates herself.

Female judicial officials and their deputies as formal appointments in the public service—he did not want to approve that. So the female medical students at the official schools—that he could use as a bargaining chip in exchange for not opposing it. More female physicians who specialized in women’s health was not a bad thing. He also harbored an unspoken, rather “shadowy” private motive: medical students, once they had completed their training, would only be treating illness—they would not carry on to become officials.

But now that Zhù Ying had produced the imperial note, he felt a sting of irritation and abruptly recalled that Zhù Ying, in everything she did, was never one to plan only a single step ahead. If she used this as a foothold to push forward another step, advancing one square at a time, would that not lead to ruin?

So even female students—he no longer wanted to approve that either.

With that in mind, he said cautiously: “Your household’s selection of appointed officials—it is not for others to have any objection. But these female students? They are somewhat difficult to arrange. Girls of good family, going about in public, is not entirely seemly…”

As he spoke, he was careful about his tone; Shi and Yao both waited to see Zhù Ying push back—as long as the person she was targeting was not themselves, the exchange would be very entertaining, and there was something to be learned from her methods.

Yet unexpectedly, Zhù Ying nodded: “Medical students—admittedly, not of great practical use, come to think of it.”

Wang Shuliang’s anxiety did not subside, for Zhù Ying had not said yes outright. He pressed her further: “You agree?”

Zhù Ying said: “Then let us simply abolish all medical schools!”

Here it comes! Here it comes! It was here at last! Shi and Yao both opened their eyes wide, ready to enjoy the spectacle.

Wang Shuliang said: “How can that be done?”

“Why not?” Zhù Ying said. “Look—the world already has herbalist women and midwives. Obviously there is no need for the government to train female medical students. And since there are far more male physicians than herbalist women in the world—why should the government be taking in any medical students at all?”

Wang Shuliang opened his mouth: “That is different.”

“How is it different? Are women not people? Or does the world not need the separation of men and women?” Zhù Ying asked. “Abolish the lot of them—it would even save money…”

“What use would unlicensed healers be?”

“So people do need physicians properly trained by accredited schools—is that what you are saying? Are women people?”

Wang Shuliang, red-faced and flustered, bowed repeatedly: “I misspoke—of course the government should be regulating female physicians.”

Shi Jixing and Yao Chenying exchanged a glance, and each gave a small nod of agreement. Speaking for themselves, they could not claim women and men stood entirely equal, but in their hearts they did believe that women were people, and that while there was a hierarchy between men and women, some basic consideration was still due.

The world did have herbalist women, midwives, and the like, and the government did not entirely neglect to manage them. But the government formally enrolling female students in schools to instruct them—that had not been done before, and even among the independent practitioners, female physicians were rare. By comparison, students trained through formal schooling did show a higher level of competence. They had no great desire to manage the matter in the abstract, but ensuring that “their own people” were better taken care of—to that they had no objection.

Zhù Ying said to Wang Shuliang: “What are you doing? We are deliberating properly—this is no small matter to navigate.”

Shi Jixing rounded off the rough edges: “Indeed it isn’t—there will certainly be those who cannot be made to see sense, and proper persuasion will be needed.”

Yao Chenying also said: “Issuing a firm order from above may well invite covert resistance and obstruction.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “Then why don’t the three of you make some quiet inquiries first, and then we can discuss it in detail when you return?”

The three nodded, and said no more about female magistrates.

But unexpectedly, the very next day, Wang Shuliang appeared at court with a heated edge to him, his words carrying a flash of temper. Everyone noticed the dark bags beneath his eyes and the exhaustion written across his face; assuming he was worn down by affairs of state and short-tempered because of it, no one went out of their way to provoke him.

Returning to the Council of State, he said to Zhù Ying: “This business of the female students—let us move quickly! How to enroll them, which instructors to assign, how to oversee them—a complete set of regulations must all be in place!”

Shi Jixing was startled: “Old Wang?”

Wang Shuliang said: “As for the female magistrates—further deliberation is needed!”

“Old Wang!” Yao Chenying exclaimed.

Zhù Ying asked: “What on earth happened to you? This is quite a reversal—and when something is so out of character, there is usually something behind it.”

“I really did encounter something troubling,” Wang Shuliang said.

—Flashback—

Wang Shuliang had indeed passed word around the previous evening. Knowing that even among those close to him views were not entirely uniform, he had been fairly evenhanded in calling together both those with a more moderate disposition and those with stricter opinions to let off some steam.

Predictably, some looked uncomfortable, while others were indifferent.

Wang Shuliang solemnly asked the one whose face showed displeasure what he meant by it, and what his reasoning was. In Wang Shuliang’s mind, it would be nothing more than the usual arguments about moral teaching and social order. He had already prepared his responses to persuade them—after all, everything should proceed “with people as the foundation.” He had no intention of being quite as blunt as Zhù Ying had been in the Council of State…

To his astonishment, the man actually said: “Chancellor, I fear this is Chancellor Zhù’s stratagem. It is precisely the thin end of the wedge that I am afraid of.”

Wang Shuliang harbored this concern himself—but the matter of female students was something he thought he could accept, provided it was properly arranged.

What he had not anticipated was that some minds remained completely immovable, arguing from first principles of moral teaching and propriety, insisting the whole thing was simply out of bounds.

Wang Shuliang said patiently: “The standard of care from a formally trained practitioner exceeds what is otherwise available. The foundation must be people.”

“Taking in female students is the far greater trouble.”

Wang Shuliang continued to reason with him patiently: “Who was not born of a mother? Who does not have a daughter? Do they not deserve better physicians? The separation of men and women demands female physicians. I seem to recall that there have indeed been women in the world with fine medical skills.”

“All these years, even with the separation between men and women, even with male physicians being inconvenient—without female physicians, we have managed fine. A little inconvenience is surely preferable to allowing women into the official schools. First medical students, then they want to be magistrates, and next they will want to reach the heavens!”

Wang Shuliang erupted in fury: “You are completely devoid of human feeling!”

Any thought of a calm, reasoned discussion was abandoned. Wang Shuliang slammed his hand on the table: “You had best not raise the matter of female magistrates again—if you cannot even bring yourself to care about matters of life and death, who could trust that you would not unjustly condemn women when adjudicating cases? You are never to serve as a local official in contact with the common people!”

Reach the heavens? You should be sent to stand guard at Zhù Ying’s gate—then let us see if you dare bark like that at her face! Wang Shuliang screamed silently.

Then he threw the man out.

Those who remained, seeing how furious he had become, thought the man’s manner of speaking had been inappropriate, and they all urged Wang Shuliang to calm his temper: “His thinking is a little rigid. In the old days, he was close to Chancellor Xian—and between Xian and Zheng there was friction. Chancellor Zhù was brought up by Chancellor Zheng…”

Wang Shuliang said: “Whatever the differences, people are still human beings!”

Those present murmured their agreement, then urged him further: “The students may be acceptable—but as for the magistrates, please do not speak out of anger.”

Wang Shuliang said: “I have my own views on the matter.”

—End of Flashback—

Wang Shuliang said only briefly that someone had gone “too far,” and that he himself had not considered this before—but there truly were people capable of this kind of cruelty: “I always thought it was only ignorant, petty people who could think this way—I never imagined that even among officials there were those like this! He swallowed his books whole and learned nothing!”

Shi and Yao both advised him to take a broader view—there were still more good people than bad in the world.

Zhù Ying also let out a sigh: “Why put yourself through that?”

Wang Shuliang said: “Since we are going to do this, we must do it well—we cannot give anyone cause to find fault. I have also thought about this. Building a thousand-storey tower begins at the ground—it will not be easy.”

Zhù Ying said: “I handled something like this in Wuzhou.”

“What? Oh!” Wang Shuliang remembered. “I thought there was something familiar about it—was there not a female physician who wrote a book? I believe I have a copy at home somewhere.”

Zhù Ying had sent books to the Wang household; Wang Shuliang himself did not read texts on gynecology, but the women of his household apparently did, and it seemed he had heard that excerpts from it had been made. It was effective.

Zhù Ying said: “Zhù Zi—she was a sister in my family. Under her care, my mother spent the second half of her life very well. The medical students at the Wuzhou official school were all under her guidance, and the regulations are already established. I brought them with me.” She looked up. “Liu Kun.”

Liu Kun, seeing the matter moving toward resolution, straightened respectfully and presented a slim volume. Wang Shuliang received it, set it on the table, and said: “I will look at it presently. As for the female magistrates—that still requires careful deliberation.”

Things had smoothed over a little, and some of the built-up pressure had been released. He wavered again. Shi and Yao also hesitated. It was not that they thought women could not handle the work—under the current sky, where this matter was concerned, if Zhù Ying deigned to rank second, no one else would dare claim first. With her here, no one could say women were incapable. But Wang Shuliang still had to consider the question of “rites and institutions.”

“I have never been one for debating first principles. Your father offered me guidance when he was still living—shall I say one more word?”

“Please speak.”

“I am a person of humble origins. No one taught me how to be an official—I observed and learned on my own. From Chancellor Zheng, I saw certain things.

In his manner of conducting himself and handling affairs, what he chose not to regard, he did not regard—what one might call ‘acting without acting.’ This was not like certain people who verbally grind others into the dust, yet in fact have every one of their eyes fixed relentlessly on the target, not forgetting them for a single moment.

I know that people say I am a woman, so I am trying to overturn things for women. But when I reason through matters, the previous Chancellors judged them on their merits, and so there was no objection.

You are too fixed on ‘the separation of men and women,’ and have forgotten to first distinguish among the same kind. Among phoenixes and wild ducks there are both male and female, but there is still a difference between high and low. A phoenix bird should not be made to serve as a slave to a male duck.”

Wang Shuliang said: “Phoenixes are sufficient—there is no need for male ducks, and no need for female phoenixes either…”

He knew, even as he said it, that he had misspoken again—certain habitual turns of phrase were simply too easily turned against him when in Zhù Ying’s presence.

Zhù Ying smiled: “Are there truly no male ducks in the court? I see far more male ducks than phoenixes.”

Shi Jixing coughed: “That is a little caustic.”

“Those who lack ability are often plagued by feelings of inadequacy and cowardice. To relieve this discomfort, they need to place something beneath their feet so they can feel a little better in their hearts. Some people are not themselves in any degraded position, and yet they remain trapped in this state of mind, and they even bring this base habit into the court.

If they could press me down beneath their feet right now, they would die of happiness. A certain kind of person is like that.”

Yao Chenying also began coughing loudly. Wang Shuliang’s forehead broke into a sweat. He said: “Not to that extreme—you will certainly live out your life in peace and safety.”

“Those without talent of their own simply wish to use the name of rites and teachings to degrade others. They only destroy—they contribute nothing. Leave it to me to leave, and let them come instead. What useful thing could they do for the state? They can only fail to make things work and succeed in making things fail. By the time you deal with them, have you any energy left to govern the realm? Your father—he was worn to death by these very people. The gentlemen of this court ought to rid themselves of this loathsome habit—this habit of living as parasites who expect to feast on the labor of others.”

Yao Chenying felt he had grasped Zhù Ying’s meaning, and said: “That is the way of it.”

Zhù Ying said to Wang Shuliang and Shi Jixing: “In all things, do not be too rigid. A crack must be opened—people cannot be smothered to death. A room with all six sides sealed shut is not a room—it is a tomb. The living cannot dwell there. Do not, in your effort to stifle others, suffocate yourselves in the process.”

The thinking of Wang and Shi fell into alignment with Yao Chenying’s, and neither offered any rebuttal.

Zhù Ying said: “Then shall we consider this matter settled?”

She had experience selecting officials through examination—she had conducted the very first one.

All three gave their silent assent.

Zhù Ying said to Liu Kun: “Go draft a proposal for the Chancellors to review.”

Wang Shuliang laughed at himself: “It is not as though she hasn’t written one before—is there still a need for review?”

Zhù Ying’s household had always had female officials—all quite outstanding. Even those who were not exactly phoenixes were at least great geese; one could not call them female ducks.

And so, by the time the regional governors arrived in the capital, they found the very sky over the city had changed.

Women were beginning to prepare for the examinations!

And not only that: in addition to the Chancellor’s residence having reserved several guild halls to serve as temporary lodging for examination candidates preparing to enter service as household officials, the governors also received official dispatches from the Council of State notifying them that women’s schools were to be established. And to add to that, the Council of State and the Ministry of Personnel had issued further notices to all prefectures, subprefectures, and counties: beneath each Judicial Department, a female deputy judicial official was to be established, with oversight of the female detention officers and guards.

What on earth had happened here?

The governors asked questions on every side, only to receive a remarkably consistent reply from the Chancellors: “However you used to select female detention officers and female guards before—select this way now!”

For those who did not know how it was done, they were told to go look at Zhù Ying’s example.