Volume One: The Supervisor and the Examinee Chapter Thirty-Three: Could My Father Be Among Them?

In the days that followed, Huang Ming temporarily stayed at home and did not even return to the Imperial Academy. Zhang Bi’s warning was reasonable, after all; with the fierce struggle between the inner and outer courts now out in the open, a eunuch’s son like himself would be all too easy a target. It was safer to keep a low profile.

But this also meant he was almost entirely cut off from the outside world, hearing only the occasional rumor that drifted in from the gatehouse. Though he was both the director and playwright behind the palace’s grand drama of self-preservation and counterattack, when the curtain truly rose, he had no idea how it was playing out—or what the ultimate ending might be.

The only comfort was that all remained peaceful at home; his father had not been dismissed and sent back, and no imperial reprimand had arrived from the palace. In this anxious fashion, several more days passed. On the tenth day of the tenth month, someone finally brought him news.

Surprisingly, it was not a messenger sent by eunuchs like Huang Jin or Gu Dayong, but instead two fellow students from the Imperial Academy—Zhang Han and Xu Qingzhi—who came to visit.

When Huang Ming came out to greet them, the two young men exchanged a glance and burst out laughing.

“I said so, didn’t I? Huang Ming’s so-called illness was only a pretense.”

“As if anyone believed otherwise.”

“You’re lucky, Huang Ming. You stirred up trouble and now you get to hide at home, while we’re the ones suffering in class.”

Their complaints puzzled Huang Ming. “What do you mean by that?”

Could the disputes between inner and outer courts have reached even the Imperial Academy?

“Don’t pretend you don’t know! If you hadn’t stood up and spoken so passionately in class, the Head of the Academy wouldn’t have suddenly gone mad and imposed all these new rules. Now, whether in class or after, we’re all having a miserable time.”

“Exactly. These past two days have been the longest since I started at the Academy.”

At this, Huang Ming finally understood: they were talking about recent reforms at the Imperial Academy.

Whether it was his words to Master Zhao that had truly made an impact, or whether the other lecturers could simply no longer tolerate the chaos in the Academy, it was true that, led by Zhang Bi, several had confronted the Head and demanded change. With the Head’s approval, the Academy swiftly set forth a host of regulations: punctual arrival and departure, absolute silence during lessons, attentive listening.

Those who broke discipline would face scolding at best, at worst the ruler’s punishment—or even be sent home to their families for further discipline.

Most students at the Imperial Academy were already considered disappointments by their high-ranking families; if things were made official, they would surely suffer even more at home.

Thanks to Huang Ming’s heartfelt speech, there had indeed been a significant effect. Over the past two days, at least in the Hall of the Profound Character, order in the classroom had been utterly transformed, but the burden of study had grown heavier, leaving the students grumbling behind the scenes.

Zhang Han and Xu Qingzhi were no exceptions and now looked at Huang Ming, the instigator, with endless complaints.

“Easy for you, stirring the pot only to hide at home. Pity us, suffering through it all.”

“You need to take responsibility for this. Now in our hall, only you and Zhang Pan have escaped the misery.”

“Zhang Pan hasn’t returned to the Academy either?” Huang Ming raised an eyebrow, curious.

“No, not since that incident. How could he show his face again?” Xu Qingzhi replied, full of schadenfreude.

Zhang Han added, “I heard he suffered greatly this time. The Marquis of Jianchang beat him with a staff himself—almost broke his leg.”

“That can’t be,” Huang Ming was skeptical. Even if being beaten outside the Academy was humiliating, would a marquis truly lose his composure so?

“They say it’s connected to recent court affairs,” Zhang Han said with a grin. “That’s what my brothers, who are officials, told me.”

“Court affairs?” Huang Ming’s heart leapt.

“You don’t know? Just a few days ago, a crowd of eunuchs suddenly gathered before the Hall of Heavenly Purity, kneeling and kowtowing to the Emperor, begging for mercy. They claimed the outer court ministers wanted to destroy them all, and that these officials wished to leave His Majesty utterly alone, without a single confidant…”

Huang Ming couldn’t help but smile—Young Master Zhang was bold in his words, though this was surely not exactly what the eunuchs had said.

Nonetheless, the meaning was similar, for Huang Ming had instructed his father to say precisely this. Whether by guessing at the Emperor Jiajing’s character or simply estimating the mindset of any emperor, Huang Ming knew that only by shifting the focus to this point could the Emperor be persuaded to change his mind and save the eunuchs.

Perhaps, in history, Gu Dayong and the others had been driven from the political center in this storm. But now, with his own intervention, things might be different.

After all, having been reborn as a eunuch’s son, he was fated to stand on the opposite side of those seemingly righteous officials.

“And what was the outcome?” Huang Ming asked, concerned.

“They say the Emperor was so enraged that he had several ringleaders seized and flogged with court sticks at the Meridian Gate.”

“Hmm?” Did their plan backfire?

“Otherwise, nothing changed,” Zhang Han continued. “Oh, and someone did accuse you, Young Master Huang, saying you have no official position yet dared to command the Embroidered Uniform Guard to attack the Marquis’s household.

“But the Emperor dismissed it, saying the guards acted of their own accord, and it had nothing to do with you. As for Gu Dayong, Zhang Yong, and the other eunuchs, they were found, after investigation, to be upright and reliable, without the various faults mentioned in the accusations. They were merely rebuked and allowed to remain in their original posts.

“Perhaps that’s why the Marquis of Jianchang, humiliated, took his anger out on his troublemaking nephew and beat Zhang Pan half to death.”

With that, both he and Xu Qingzhi laughed heartily, clearly delighted at Zhang Pan’s misfortune.

Huang Ming laughed as well, and the tension that had been gripping his heart finally eased.

Despite his youth, Emperor Jiajing’s methods were deft indeed. By punishing a few ringleaders with the court rods, he maintained imperial authority yet gave the outer court ministers no pretext for further attack. Having awakened to reality, he would no longer be led by the nose by the officials, and so it was only natural to protect the old palace staff.

It seemed, then, that this wave of attacks against the eunuchs had come to an end.

Or had it?

Suddenly, Huang Ming felt a jolt of unease. “Wait—those who were flogged as ringleaders, none of them was my father, were they?”