Chapter 68: Ancestral Law

Listening to this, the Emperor felt a secret jolt of astonishment within his heart: "One must look at a man with fresh eyes after three days apart. Zheng Bangcheng has only been away from my side for a few days, so when did he acquire such brilliance?"

The Emperor was always a perceptive man, with a vision as clear as a blazing torch regarding the empire's grand situation.

It was not that he felt the realm was entirely free of problems; rather, he simply did not wish to manage them. He desired nothing more than a peaceful retirement, leaving the matters of the future to the wisdom of those who would come after.

At any rate, the fortune he was leaving behind was vast enough that even if it were squandered for twenty or thirty years, no truly major catastrophe would ensue.

The Great Xia dynasty would certainly not perish.

Yet, many individuals at court actually lacked this depth of insight.

The majority of them believed the world was at peace, basking in the prosperity of the Jiacheng era.

Previously, the Emperor had not believed Zheng Bangcheng possessed such foresight either.

The way he looked at Zheng Bangcheng now began to shift slightly.

Before, when he looked at Zheng Bangcheng, he saw merely someone from his inner circle, or rather, simply the son of Zheng Wannian. But now, his gaze carried a fraction more of analytical scrutiny.

It was precisely this very same scrutinizing gaze that, years ago, had brushed aside all dissenting opinions to select Zheng Wannian, the scion of a fallen aristocratic family.

"Could our dynasty be about to witness a father and son, both renowned ministers?"

The Emperor mused inwardly.

Niu Xiaoqing, the Duke Defending the State, drew a sharp breath.

He had just been caught completely off guard.

When Zheng Bangcheng came to see him earlier, he had not uttered nearly this much. He had brushed the young man aside with effortless ease.

"Now it seems this Zheng lad has concealed his craftiness. What a truly fine nephew," the Duke thought bitterly within his heart.

The term "nephew" he had casually tossed about earlier was merely an older man pulling rank, taking advantage of Zheng Bangcheng. But at this moment, it carried an entirely different weight, representing the Duke's true acknowledgment of Zheng Bangcheng.

With Zheng Wannian having a son of such caliber, even after Zheng Wannian's eventual passing, the Zheng family would still retain the qualifications to remain seated at the high table of power.

The Duke Defending the State spoke up, "My good nephew, I know you actually wish to arrange for a few individuals to enter the Xian'an Palace Academy. I shall agree to it. There was no need to make such a tremendous uproar."

The Emperor felt not a shred of surprise in his heart, only a hint of fatigue: How many years had it been? It was always the same old routine. When one's arguments failed to hold water, the resort was immediately to personal attacks.

Zheng Bangcheng raised his voice and declared, "That is true. The scions of my Zheng family, as well as the descendants of many other meritorious nobles from the southern campaigns, and even the middle and lower-tier nobility, all dream of entering the Xian'an Palace Academy. However, my intentions as Zheng Bangcheng are driven by a public spirit. It is to select and nurture talent for the nation. I humbly request Your Majesty to order His Highness the Prince of Yue to handle this matter, which will serve to prove my innocence."

A ripple stirred within the Emperor's heart: "No, Zheng Bangcheng could not have devised such a brilliant maneuver. Someone is instructing him from behind the scenes. Who is it?"

Who was the Prince of Yue?

He was the ninth son of the Emperor Xuanzong, and the current Emperor's youngest brother.

As mentioned previously, the Great Xia dynasty employed imperial brothers rather than imperial sons in affairs of state.

Emperor Xuanzong had passed away early. The current sovereign's ascension was entirely justified by right, and he had meticulously nurtured his younger brothers, especially the Prince of Yue. When Emperor Xuanzong departed, the Prince of Yue was still a toddler learning to speak. The current Emperor, acting as an elder brother who was like a father, had raised the Prince of Yue by his side.

After coming of age, the Prince of Yue was dispatched on numerous missions and had handled many major affairs across the court and the country.

During the Case of the Rebellious Crown Prince, the Emperor had sent for the Prince of Yue. It was the Prince of Yue who stepped forward to help the Emperor wrest supreme authority over the Cabinet and dismiss all grand secretaries.

Ever since then, the Prince of Yue had remained within the Cabinet.

The Emperor had intended to appoint the Prince of Yue as the Senior Grand Secretary, but the Prince of Yue had declined, stating: "The intention of our ancestors in employing imperial kinsmen as ministers to protect the foundation of the state was not to have imperial kinsmen occupy paramount positions such as Senior Grand Secretary or Military Councilor."

The tragic fall of the preceding Ming dynasty and the horrific fates suffered by imperial kinsmen across various regions...

had served as a profound lesson for the Great Xia dynasty.

Consequently, in the design of the imperial clan system, a deliberate framework was established to cultivate the influence of the imperial lineage within both the military and the civil bureaucracy.

Yet, limitations were placed upon this imperial influence as well; they were not permitted to truly seize absolute control over the court. Otherwise, there would be the latent threat of usurpation by a collateral branch.

Thus, the Emperor had permitted this arrangement.

The Prince of Yue had served as the Junior Grand Secretary in the Cabinet for over a decade. The Senior Grand Secretary had changed three times, but the Prince of Yue had remained steadfast throughout.

Over these years, fully aware that he occupied a position inviting suspicion, the Prince of Yue had closed his gates and declined visitors, avoiding deep entanglements with anyone. Everyone knew that the Prince of Yue was supremely impartial. To have him preside over this matter meant there was virtually no possibility of favoritism.

Yet, the true brilliance of the Emperor's position lay right here.

This design introduced an entirely different faction into the mix: the influence of the imperial clan nobility.

The Prince of Yue was the representative of the imperial clan within both civil and military spheres.

With the Prince of Yue participating, the issue ceased to be merely a conflict between the founding meritorious nobility and the southern campaign nobility.

The imperial clan nobility was by no means small in number. Every generation of imperial sons was invested with princely titles, and provided they were not utterly useless during their lifetimes, they earned noble ranks through merit, making it commonplace for descendants to inherit marquisates or earldoms.

Even if there truly were some utterly incapable ones among them,

as long as they were descendants of the Grand Progenitor and inscribed in the imperial jade registers, they were all allocated a stipend for sustenance—merely enough to keep them from starving.

However, no one had yet resorted to collecting these sustenance stipends.

After all, the Great Xia dynasty consistently encouraged its imperial kinsmen to enter military or official service; very few were incompetent to such an extreme degree that they could not even secure a minor official post.

Yet, the imperial clan nobility had historically remained politically invisible and kept a very low profile.

Because the vast majority of imperial kinsmen who managed to carve out a path understood one fundamental truth: what was the positioning of the imperial clan within the court? They were the ballast in the hold. They represented the imperial house of Great Xia.

Only when the imperial succession could not be smoothly transmitted, or when the reigning emperor was of tender years, was it time for these individuals to play their part.

Much like the Southern Song dynasty, where imperial abdications always required imperial kinsmen ministers to step forward so that both internal and external parties would be convinced.

In ordinary times, it was best to simply serve as honest, steady officials. In any case, when promotions were due, they would certainly not be forgotten. Yet their ceiling was equally obvious: had it not been for the Case of the Rebellious Crown Prince, even if the Prince of Yue were a renowned minister of the realm, it would have been impossible for him to enter the Cabinet.

The Emperor had hesitated to make a decisive resolution precisely because he feared a bitter confrontation between the southern campaign nobility and the founding nobility, which could erupt into a major crisis. But if the imperial clan lineage was introduced into the equation, the three factions would mutually check and balance one another. With the imperial clan acting as a buffer, the intensity of the struggle could be kept under control.

As for hoping that they would simply stop fighting altogether, the Emperor was already convinced that was an impossibility.

"Has Zheng Bangcheng suddenly seen the light?" The Emperor harbored doubts, but having already reached a decision, he asked, "Duke Defending the State, do you have anything else to say?"

"This subject believes that the ancestral institutions are tied to the stability of the people's hearts and must not be lightly altered." After hesitating for a moment, the Duke gritted his teeth and uttered these words.

In truth, this statement meant: Emperor Mingzong granted this privilege to our few families. It has always been thus.

The Emperor gave a faint smile, feeling a growing sense of disgust in his heart.

Ever since his ascension to the throne, the Emperor had never looked particularly favorably upon the founding faction.

Yet he had not dared to disturb them lightly.

In any era, meddling with the military was a matter requiring the utmost caution.

Furthermore, among the founding faction in the early years of the Jiacheng era, many veteran generals had grown up during the twilight of Emperor Taizong's reign, having witnessed military campaigns in their youth or even been raised and personally instructed by the legendary generals of the founding era. They possessed both political skill and the ability to lead troops.

Those battles fought in the early Jiacheng years had been won precisely by these veteran generals.

But now, those veteran generals had all passed away.

The dukes who remained were all born during the reigns of Ming and Xuan, knowing nothing from their youth of what armies actually were. They had been softened and spoiled by wealth and luxury.

Loyalty was undoubtedly important. Yet if one possessed only loyalty without a shred of competence, the Emperor found himself somewhat losing regard for them.

"I am growing old." The Emperor knew very well that the Duke Defending the State was using ancestral regulations to safeguard his own interests, but he no longer wished to accommodate them. He stated, "I do not know when I shall go to meet the dynastic ancestors. I wonder if the regulations I establish will be counted as ancestral institutions when that time comes?"

"Between the ancestral institutions of Emperor Mingzong and my own ancestral institutions, which one holds greater weight?"