Volume Two: Adults and Petites - Chapter Eighty-Nine: Zhang Cong Submits a Memorial

Zhang Cong was already forty-eight years old this year.
In the context of the present Great Ming Dynasty, he was already considered to have entered his elderly years.
Who could blame him for his ill fortune in the imperial examinations? He had traveled to the capital to take the metropolitan examinations seven times, yet every single time his name had failed to appear on the roll of successful candidates.
It was not until his eighth attempt—the special supplementary examination held last year—that Zhang Cong finally managed to enter the officialdom as a *jinshi* of the second rank, and he was currently serving as a probationary official observing government affairs in the Ministry of Rites.
Worn down by the passing years, the once dashing and elegant young man now had white temples, retaining nothing of his former brilliance.
Yet, the soaring ambitions he had accumulated through years of studying had not been eroded by time. Of course, these were merely thoughts, for after all, the opportunities remained terribly slim.
At forty-eight years of age, a *jinshi* of the second rank serving as a probationary official in the Ministry of Rites without even a substantive official post—such a starting point could hardly be lower. No matter how grand one's ambitions might be, they had to yield to the reality of the situation.
His best possible outlet and future prospect would be no more than leaving the Ministry of Rites to be appointed as a magistrate of the seventh rank, and after toiling for a few years, retiring in his old age with a nominal sixth-rank title—which would mean the imperial court had not treated him too shabbily.
Yet now, an opportunity lay directly before him—the Emperor was currently being pressured by court officials led by Yang Tinghe, who wanted His Majesty to acknowledge the late Emperor Xiaozong as his father and refer to his own biological father merely as an uncle, while the Emperor clearly refused to submit to such manipulation.
This conflict between the sovereign and his ministers was actually long-standing. Zhang Cong, serving within the Ministry of Rites, had naturally witnessed it all with his own eyes, and had even perused the joint memorial written by the officials of the Ministry of Rites urging the Emperor to succeed to the imperial lineage.
As someone whose specialized classical text during the imperial examinations had been the *Classic of Rites*, and who possessed a profound mastery of the Three Rites (a collective term for the *Rites of Zhou*, the *Book of Rites*, and the *Book of Etiquette and Ceremonial*), Zhang Cong actually held a very low opinion of much of the content in that memorial, and felt a measure of sympathy for the young Son of Heaven trapped within the palace.
Yet that was the extent of it. What qualification did he, a probationary official in the Ministry of Rites without even a proper official post, have to speak out—especially to speak out in refutation of his numerous senior superiors?
If he were truly to do such a thing, he would likely not only jeopardize his official career but also ruin his reputation utterly.
At least until a month ago, that was how Zhang Cong saw it; he believed he could do nothing at all.
However, after late June, the political situation in the capital shifted with each passing day. The offices of the Ministry of Rites suffered another severe blow in the wake of the Jiaofangsi incident, resulting in Junior Vice Minister Wu Yipeng being implicated in the case and demoted to a post outside the capital.
Did this not signify that the reigning Emperor was not as weak as he had imagined, and that His Majesty was even less likely to compromise with Grand Secretary Yang on such a momentous matter?
Zhang Cong was incapable of finding the answers to such detailed questions.
He only knew one fact: this might well be the final opportunity for him to truly leap over the dragon gate!

After two days of patient deliberation, weighing the pros and cons, followed by three days of revising, transcribing, and drafting several versions, Zhang Cong submitted his memorial to the imperial palace through the Office of Transmission on the ninth day of the seventh lunar month.
A public memorial, directly addressing the Son of Heaven.
As a vital office responsible for communication between the imperial court and the outside, the Office of Transmission played an enormously significant role, and its authority was self-evident.
If someone were to discover in advance that a particular person was about to submit a memorial detrimental to their interests, they could use their connections within the Office of Transmission to obstruct it. Although they might not make the memorial vanish entirely, delaying it for three to five days to buy themselves time to respond was an effortless task.
Therefore, the truly powerful figures holding the reins of power in the Great Ming Dynasty were always able to keep a tight grip on this crucial Office of Transmission.
If one added to this the fact that certain members of the Grand Secretariat responsible for drafting the imperial responses were also their allies, launching an attack against such political enemies became even more arduous.
Take the current Senior Grand Secretary Yang Tinghe, for instance: the head of the Office of Transmission was his man, and he himself was the Senior Grand Secretary. Suppressing a memorial that was disadvantageous to him was as effortless as blowing off dust.
However, there are exceptions to every rule!
The Great Ming Dynasty placed great value on freedom of speech, or at least officials possessed this right.
If one were a Censor or an official of the remonstrance bureaus, one could naturally report matters based on hearsay, committing no crime in speaking erroneously.
As for other officials, one could also speak directly in memorials, but the submission had to be made public and signed with one's real name—this was known as a public memorial.
Once it reached this stage, even if someone within the Office of Transmission wished to obstruct it, or the Grand Secretariat wished to suppress it, it could no longer be contained.
Yet doing so meant breaking completely with one's enemies, resulting in a life-or-death struggle. Unless forced to absolute extremes, the sophisticated political operators in the officialdom who valued harmony above all else would never dare to take such a step.
Whenever such a situation actually transpired, the consequences were invariably tragic, and death was a common occurrence.
For example, Yang Jisheng, a prominent figure in the middle period of the Jiaofangsi era, was falsely accused and imprisoned after recklessly impeaching Yan Song, ultimately meeting a miserable end.
Zhang Cong had also stepped onto this path. Although it was unlikely he would truly suffer a tragic death, once he failed, his official career and reputation would vanish forever, turning his years of hard work into mere illusions.
Yet he still went through with it!
This was partly because he had confidence in himself, and partly because he had confidence in the Jiajing Emperor.

When a memorial refuting the *Memorial Urging Succession to the Imperial Lineage* submitted by the officials of the Ministry of Rites was made public, it instantly stirred up a massive storm within the court at Beijing.
The next day, as Zhang Cong had just returned to the Ministry of Rites, he was immediately surrounded by dozens of colleagues.
Every colleague looked at him as though he were a madman or a fool. Although they did not immediately hurl verbal abuses, they naturally regarded him as a traitor and an outcast.
Then, several colleagues who had previously maintained good relations with him walked over with gloomy expressions: "Zhang Cong, from this day forth, you and I have severed all ties whatsoever!" Having spoken, they turned on their heels and walked away.
Not only did they publicly break off relations with him, but they even addressed him directly by his given name, too lazy to even use his courtesy name, treating him truly like a stranger on the road.
Nor was that all. A moment later, a supervising official from the Ministry of Rites also walked over, adopting a cold, perfunctory, and strictly official attitude: "Zhang Cong, you have observed government affairs in our Ministry of Rites for over a year, yet you have shown no progress whatsoever. Our ministry truly cannot keep you here.
"Starting from today, you may pack up and leave."
Zhang Cong's body shuddered slightly, and he asked instinctively, "Dare I ask, Your Honor, what shall become of my next..."
"What follows next is no longer the concern of the Ministry of Rites; you may go inquire at the Ministry of Personnel. But with the vast number of *jinshi* and *juren* awaiting appointments, who knows when your turn will ever come?"
Very well, now he no longer even possessed the qualification to observe affairs in the Ministry of Rites, and the corresponding evaluation submitted to the Ministry of Personnel would undoubtedly be the lowest grade.
A single memorial had turned him into a solitary figure, an outcast in the eyes of everyone, and left him without even an official post...
No matter how mentally prepared Zhang Cong was, this blow hit him like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, shattering his spirit and turning him into a walking corpse. He had no idea how he had even managed to walk out of the offices of the Ministry of Rites.
It was not until he stepped outside and was struck by the bright, glaring sun overhead that he regained a sliver of his senses. Looking down at his green official robe, he let out a long sigh: "Did I truly do wrong?"
"Might you be Master Zhang Cong?" A voice sounded beside him, snapping Zhang Cong slightly back to reality. He glanced at the young page boy before him: "I am indeed. And you are?"
"This humble servant is called Yumo. By order of my young master, I am specifically inviting Master Zhang Cong over to share a cup of wine and converse."
*(Note: The historical Zhang Cong submitted his memorial to support the Jiajing Emperor in the seventh month of the sixteenth year of the Zhengde era. Here, in order to give Huang Ming more room to develop his narrative, the timeline has been moved forward by a year. I ask all book friends to kindly understand.)*