In June, the officials at the Great Ming court paid little attention to either the Medical Academy's graduate students and the Medicine Schools or the establishment of the treasure shipyard. Instead, most focused on two other decrees issued by Zhu Yuanzhang.
In mid-June, Zhu Yuanzhang decreed that sealed submissions from subjects throughout the realm were to reach him directly!
This decree broke with the practice inherited from the Yuan dynasty, whereby sealed documents first went to the Central Secretariat to be opened and screened before being presented to the emperor.
It was plain that this move curtailed the Central Secretariat's power-or, more precisely, the chancellor's power.
Over the preceding years, Zhu Yuanzhang had intermittently taken measures to reduce the chancellor's authority, but none had been as blatant as this. Opening and screening sealed documents had been one of the Central Secretariat chancellor's core powers.
Many officials tried to fathom Zhu Yuanzhang's intentions and concluded that he was deeply dissatisfied with Hu Weiyong and might dismiss him as chancellor.
Even Hu Weiyong himself and his faction thought so. They met privately several times to discuss how to respond.
By late June, before Hu Weiyong and his faction had reached any conclusion, Zhu Yuanzhang issued two more decrees-transferring former Left Imperial Secretary Wang Guangyang to the Central Secretariat as Right Chancellor, and promoting Hu Weiyong to Left Chancellor of the Central Secretariat, placing him above all other officials!
At this point, Hu Weiyong could be said to have reached the pinnacle of Great Ming's civil service!
Night fell on the second day of July.
Imperial Secretary Chen Ning, Deputy Censor-in-Chief Tu Jie, Central Secretariat Administrative Officer Li Tong, and several other core members of Hu Weiyong's faction went to the Hu residence for an evening banquet.
Amid clinking goblets and the passing of drinking-game tallies, Chen Ning said, "In the middle of last month, when that man suddenly stripped the Central Secretariat of its authority to screen sealed memorials, I thought he was going to move against Chancellor Hu. I was preparing to use the public debate over the Medical Academy and the Medicine Schools to have people submit numerous petitions urging their abolition, to divert his attention."
"Who would have thought that fewer than ten days later, he would promote Chancellor Hu to Left Chancellor, placing you above every other official? It seems I was worrying needlessly. That man still has great faith in you."
Hu Weiyong laughed heartily. "In truth, I originally thought he meant to dismiss me too, so I used a clever trick."
At this point, Hu Weiyong deliberately paused to keep them in suspense.
Chen Ning promptly played along. "What clever trick?"
"I fell ill," Hu Weiyong said smugly. "Too ill to attend court or handle government affairs. Li Tong and several others holding important posts in the Central Secretariat also caught my illness while visiting me and had no choice but to take leave."
"The government affairs of Great Ming's capital and twelve provinces rest on our shoulders. Once we took leave, work rapidly piled up in the Central Secretariat. Within just two days, that man sent a eunuch to inquire after my health and ask whether I needed an imperial physician."
"Naturally, I couldn't let an imperial physician examine this illness of mine, so I had to lie and say I was nearly recovered and could return to work at the Central Secretariat in a day or two."
"To tell the truth, I didn't know then whether the trick would work. I was even thinking that if it didn't, I would take sick leave another couple of times."
"Who would have thought that not only would he recognize our importance, but he would also promote me to Left Chancellor, placing me above every other official!"
By the end, Hu Weiyong could no longer contain the smile spilling across his face.
At this point, Deputy Censor-in-Chief Tu Jie, who had remained silent, cautioned him. "Chancellor Hu, you mustn't let your guard down. That man did appoint Wang Guangyang as Right Chancellor, after all. Once Wang Guangyang becomes familiar with the Central Secretariat's affairs and gathers a group of trusted men under him, that may be when that man replaces you."
"Wang Guangyang?" Hu Weiyong's expression turned disdainful. "He does have some literary talent, and he showed some ability in his early years, but he has sunk into wine and women these past years. His abilities are no longer what they were."
"Besides, he is narrow-minded, yet indecisive when faced with a problem. Back when he held the post of Left Vice Chancellor, he couldn't even defeat Yang Xian. How could he possibly be a match for me?"
"Just watch. Before long, that man will see that Wang Guangyang is useless, and that Great Ming's Central Secretariat cannot do without me, Hu Weiyong."
Tu Jie felt that Hu Weiyong was being far too arrogant, but said no more, lest he spoil everyone's enjoyment...
On the eighth day of July, Zhu Yuanzhang issued another decree establishing the Directorate of Communications, appointing Zeng Bingzheng as Great Ming's first Director of Communications. He was charged with receiving memorials from within and outside the capital, forwarding sealed remonstrances directly to the throne, and handling the submission and review of reports from the various offices.
In practice, this was intended to give more concrete effect to Zhu Yuanzhang's June decree that "sealed submissions from subjects shall reach the emperor directly."
Unlike during the middle and late Ming periods, ordinary scholars in the Hongwu era were not particularly alert to changes in court policy that did not affect them personally. They often knew nothing of them at all.
Moreover, court decrees took time to circulate. Only in mid-to-late July did the specific policies concerning the establishment of the Medical Academy and the Medicine Schools reach the Provincial Administration Commissions outside Zhili, prompting lively debate among local gentry and scholars.
Ninghai County, Taizhou Prefecture, Zhejiang.
Fang Xiaoru was observing mourning at home.
The previous year, his father, Fang Keqin, who had served as prefect of Jining, had been executed for his involvement in the Blank Seal Case. After escorting his father's coffin home from the capital, he had prepared to observe three years of mourning in accordance with Confucian rites.
The first year had yet to pass, but Fang Xiaoru had already grown much thinner.
That day, Fang Xiaoru was studying Confucian classics in his study when his young attendant entered.
"Young master, I heard quite a few scholars discussing something today." The attendant stopped there, evidently hoping to keep him in suspense.
"Speak," Fang Xiaoru said flatly.
The attendant smiled. "Didn't the court summon renowned physicians from across the realm to the capital a while ago? I heard it established a new office called the 'Medical Academy,' devoted to studying and teaching medicine."
"Apparently, it has even admitted some sort of graduate students who can receive grain stipends just like students at the Imperial College."
At this, Fang Xiaoru could not help frowning.
Graduate students at the Medical Academy? Most likely physicians' apprentices, aren't they? And they can actually receive grain stipends like Imperial College students?
Summoning renowned physicians from across the realm to serve in the capital has already made it difficult for local people to seek treatment. Now they've come up with something that disgraces scholarly dignity.
It seems that man is not merely cruel, but has grown muddleheaded as well!
As Fang Xiaoru was thinking this, the attendant continued, "Oh, and I heard the court is opening Medicine Schools in all the prefectural and departmental seats in Zhili, as well as the provincial capitals, to teach people medicine for free."
"Young master, do you think I could go and study medicine?"
At this, Fang Xiaoru could no longer maintain his composure. He abruptly demanded, "Teaching people medicine for free? Are you sure you heard correctly?"
The attendant scratched his head. "I heard several groups discussing it. It should be true."
With that confirmation, Fang Xiaoru could not help exclaiming indignantly, "Even government schools aren't free for all scholars, yet they're teaching people medicine for free! Has not a single court official tried to stop such an absurd undertaking?!"
The attendant was still young. Seeing Fang Xiaoru so angry, he was puzzled and could not help asking, "Young master, isn't it good that the court is teaching people medicine for free? You said a while ago that summoning renowned physicians to the capital left fewer doctors in the provinces and made it harder for everyone to get treatment."
"Now that there are places teaching people medicine for free, there will surely be more doctors in the future. Won't that make it easier for everyone to get treatment again? This is clearly a good thing."
These words only enraged Fang Xiaoru further, and he bellowed, "Get out!"
Utterly bewildered, the attendant withdrew from the study, feeling wronged.
In the blink of an eye, it was early August in the tenth year of Hongwu.
That day, after working through a stack of memorials, Zhu Yuanzhang asked Yunqi and learned that Zhu Biao was not in the Eastern Side Hall. He then had Yunqi fetch several crickets and happily began staging cricket fights.
Yet he had been playing for less than an hour when he heard a eunuch call loudly outside the hall, "Your Highness the Crown Prince, you're here?"
Normally, Zhu Biao would have a eunuch announce him before entering.
This time, however, before Zhu Yuanzhang heard Zhu Biao ask to be announced, his footsteps were already sounding inside the hall.
That brat! I've barely been playing with the crickets, and here he comes. Has he assigned someone to keep watch on the Eastern Side Hall?
Puzzled, Zhu Yuanzhang instinctively tried to hide the cricket cages. Only when he heard the crickets chirping did he realize he could not conceal them. He sat down instead and made a show of reading memorials, as though the crickets before him held no attraction whatsoever.
When Zhu Biao entered and saw this, he understood what had happened and did not know whether to be angry or laugh.
Considering that Zhu Yuanzhang had shown at least some restraint with cricket fighting over the past two or three months, and that he was both his father and the emperor of Great Ming, Zhu Biao ultimately held back from bringing up the crickets again.
He bowed in greeting. "Your son pays his respects, Father."
"Rise." Zhu Yuanzhang put down the memorial and looked up. "You've come in such a hurry. Is there something urgent?"
Thinking of the news he had come to share, Zhu Biao smiled. "Father, I've come with good news-the Microscope has finally been made!"