Chapter 11: The Mastermind Behind the Scenes Emerges

Handwriting analysis as a formal, documented practice dates back to the late Eastern Han Dynasty, beginning with Guo Yuan, the Administrator of Wei Commandery under Cao Cao. It was officially incorporated into the methods of criminal investigation during the Tang Dynasty, exemplified by cases such as Zhang Chujin’s exposure of Jiang Chen’s false accusation against Prefect Pei Guang, Cheng Hao’s resolution of the Weng case, and Xie Shiyuan’s judgment in land and property disputes.

The Ministry of Justice, the Northern Secret Service, and the Eastern Depot each employed a group of scribes specialized in verifying documentary evidence. While the scribes of both the Ministry of Justice and the Northern Secret Service had identified the documents as forgeries, the agents of the Eastern Depot had not yet reached a definitive conclusion, though it was essentially certain that the handwriting was fake.

The agents of the Eastern Depot knew that their Superintendent loathed Gao Gong and wished for his death. Even though Gao Gong had already retired to his ancestral home, the agents could not simply call a deer a horse and insist the writing was genuine without a directive. They had to wait for instructions from the Grand Eunuch. Whether it meant forging additional letters or seizing members of Gao Gong’s disbanded household to coerce a false confession, none of these tasks were difficult for the men of the Eastern Depot.

While the Imperial Guards in the Outer Court were restricted by protocol and could not easily forge documents, the agents of the Eastern Depot were unburdened by such scruples.

Zhu Xixiao hesitated for a moment before taking the evidence into the back hall. By dusk, the sun was slanting low, and although visibility was poor, the discrepancies pointed out by the scribes in the handwriting comparison were still clearly visible; the documents were indeed fraudulent. After comparing several characters, it was evident that the handwriting matched Gao Gong’s style from before he entered the Grand Secretariat.

Zhu Yijun glanced at Feng Bao before speaking to Zhu Xixiao: "The hour is late, and the Empress Dowager expects Me back in the palace before the gates are locked. We shall discuss this case further tomorrow."

At this point, Zhu Yijun already knew exactly who the mastermind behind the scenes was.

"Court dismissed!" Zhu Xixiao gathered all the physical and documentary evidence, ordered the suspects to be detained, and struck the gavel, bringing the day’s joint interrogation to a close.

"We respectfully see the Emperor off." The court officials stood before the gate of the Northern Secret Service, bowing to bid the Emperor farewell.

Zhu Yijun walked ahead, with Feng Bao following closely behind, bent at the waist. This posture was physically taxing, but he maintained it with great reverence.

"Big Companion Feng, do you know who is pulling the strings from behind the curtain?" Zhu Yijun asked with a smile.

Feng Bao shook his head and said, "This servant is dull-witted."

"I know," Zhu Yijun said as he walked. "Chen Hong is so audacious that he could be tricked by a single letter; that is not surprising."

"When a person lacks power, they only envy and speculate. But once they have tasted power and lost it, the yearning for its return—the sheer drop from the clouds back to the earth—gnaws at the heart like a cat’s claws. Once there is the slightest motive, they will stop at nothing."

"What a tragic fall it is; when a man loses his power, not even a ghost will darken his doorway."

"It is only Ge Shouli who is genuinely worried about Gao Gong’s fate, which is why he is so anxious about everything. As soon as Chen Hong made the accusation, he started listing Gao Gong’s merits. Ge Shouli is afraid."

Feng Bao was startled and asked, "Afraid?"

Zhu Yijun said with a complex expression, "What Ge Shouli fears most is that Gao Gong is not the Gao Gong he envisioned."

Feng Bao was adept at dealing with civil officials and understood them well. He agreed wholeheartedly. These scholars loved to set up pedestals and role models in their hearts; Gao Gong was that model for Ge Shouli, and he knew Gao Gong’s achievements by heart.

Feng Bao asked, puzzled, "Your Majesty, who is the mastermind? Even if that dog-thief were at the ends of the earth, this servant would capture him for You and have him cut into ten thousand pieces!"

"You truly didn’t see it?" Zhu Yijun asked, expressing great surprise.

The young Emperor’s gaze left the Grand Eunuch feeling deeply wounded; it was as if His Majesty were looking at a fool.

Zhu Yijun pondered for a moment and said, "You really are hopeless. People change, and so does their calligraphy; it is impossible for it to remain static. Today’s letter was almost indistinguishable from the real thing—it was in the style Gao Gong used after he became the Senior Grand Secretary during the Longqing era."

"Let Me ask you."

"Ever since Grand Secretary Gao entered the Secretariat and became a pillar of the state, his calligraphy has been worth a thousand pieces of gold. Though Gao Gong was tyrannical, he was always incorruptible and would never leave behind such evidence as selling his own calligraphy. Am I right?"

Feng Bao reflected on this. Gao Gong was tyrannical, certainly, but he was indeed an honest official. Even after his downfall, no one accused Gao Gong of corruption, unlike that man Xu Jie, whose downfall revealed that half of Songjiang Prefecture belonged to his family. If Gao Gong had been corrupt, Feng Bao would have hunted him down long ago; why would he have waited until now?

Feng Bao hurriedly said, "Your Majesty’s wisdom is innate, and your insight is as clear as a blazing fire!"

Zhu Yijun continued, "The evidence contains hundreds of characters, most of which are in the style he used after entering the Secretariat. After Grand Secretary Gao entered the Secretariat, his calligraphy mostly consisted of draft endorsements. Let Me ask you: who could possibly have had access to his calligraphy to imitate and forge it?"

Feng Bao suddenly realized the truth. He slapped his left fist into his right palm and exclaimed, "Zhang Juzheng! It must be that Zhang Juzheng, fearing Gao Gong’s return, who framed him! It all fits!"

"The Senior Grand Secretary is so busy he can barely keep his head on straight. If he wanted to orchestrate a scheme to relentlessly pursue Gao Gong, he has plenty of ways to do it. Scholars have dirty minds; why would he take such a massive risk?" Zhu Yijun flicked his sleeves and retorted.

Watching Feng Bao’s foolish behavior, Zhu Yijun felt a surge of irritation. How could he be the head of the eunuchs, a man who should have a heart of exquisite intelligence, yet fail to grasp the point of this matter?

As the Senior Grand Secretary and the head of all officials, if Zhang Juzheng really wanted to deal with Gao Gong—who had lost all power and was now ignored by everyone—wouldn’t it be as easy as pinching a snail? Why would he behave like Gao Gong, pointing fingers at imperial power and meddling in affairs, only to bring about his own ruin?

Feng Bao stammered, "The Directorate of Ceremonial also has Grand Secretary Gao’s draft endorsements. That means... the Directorate of Ceremonial? Does that mean I am the prime suspect?"

Feng Bao’s eyes widened, his cheeks puffed up, looking truly comical. After all that guessing, he had become the greatest suspect himself. Was he the true mastermind behind it all?

Zhu Yijun walked briskly with his hands behind his back, looking at him with disdain. "Big Companion Feng, perhaps you should step down from your position. One day you’ll be sold and end up counting the money for the one who sold you. I truly worry for you."

Could those eunuchs in the Directorate of Ceremonial really imitate Gao Gong’s handwriting? Those scholars spent their whole lives writing. When they took the imperial examinations, their "official script" was more precise than printed type. Not to mention that after Gao Gong entered the Secretariat, his temperament changed. If the eunuchs in the Directorate of Ceremonial had such talent, the struggle between the eunuchs and the civil officials would have been decided long ago; the Secretariat would have been toppled, and there would be no need for a Senior or Junior Grand Secretary.

Feng Bao chased after him, helplessly saying, "I implore Your Majesty to enlighten me."

Zhu Yijun couldn't be bothered to let Feng Bao guess anymore. He gave him the answer he wanted, shaking his head. "The person who forged the handwriting is Gao Gong himself."

More precisely, whether Gao Gong liked it or not, this letter could only have come from his hand, and any investigation would inevitably lead back to him. Once a man loses power, he is abandoned by all. Sending someone into the palace is simple for some, but for others, it is as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Chen Hong was just a eunuch who had lost his power and lived in the servants' quarters, while Gao Gong was the "former" Senior Grand Secretary living in Xinzheng, Henan. Neither Chen Hong nor Gao Gong had the capability to send Wang Zhanglong into the Qianqing Palace.

So who was the mastermind? Someone within the Jin Faction, or perhaps the collective consciousness of the Jin Faction itself. But the investigation could only go this far, because if they continued, the only conclusion the Imperial Guards could reach would point to Gao Gong. It could only be him. All clues would lead to Gao Gong.

"Aha!" Feng Bao realized everything. With a ferocious expression, he said, "It really is that villain! So insidious and cunning, to actually forge his own handwriting to escape like a cicada shedding its skin! Your Majesty, send troops to Gao Gong’s hometown, seize him, and bring him here. He is no longer just an ordinary treacherous minister, Your Majesty!"

It had come full circle, and it was still that dog-thief! First, he had been disrespectful before the late Emperor’s coffin, saying a ten-year-old could not rule the world; then he had petitioned to strip the Directorate of Ceremonial of its power, claiming the Emperor acted without due process—he had no sense of submission. Now, he had orchestrated such a massive plot. Feng Bao was beyond furious; in the assassination attempt, he had been only a step away from death.

Gao Gong was a minister who had lost his sense of submission; he was the primary suspect. But in this court, was Gao Gong the only one who had lost his sense of submission?

Feng Bao hadn't truly guessed it; he was merely playing along with the Emperor’s performance. When it was time to play along, the Grand Eunuch could not afford to be blind.

Life is like a play; it all depends on the acting.

"Let Me think on this." Zhu Yijun stopped to ponder. He had reached the Chengtian Gate. Under the setting sun, the three characters "Chengtian Gate" glowed brilliantly. They were written by the hand of the founding Emperor, Taizu, and later brought to the northern capital by the Yongle Emperor.

From the moment it was determined the letter was a forgery, the case became clear. Did Gao Gong know about this? Whether he knew or not, he was no longer the Senior Grand Secretary. If Gao Gong died in the assassination case, that would be his final utility; someone was squeezing the last bit of value out of him. Once the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, the Directorate of Ceremonial, and Zhang Juzheng moved against Gao Gong, wouldn’t the Jin Faction in the court go into an uproar?

Except for Ge Shouli, the Jin Faction wasn't trying to save Gao Gong at all; they were using the name of saving him to seize more power. Wang Chonggu still controlled the Beijing garrisons, Minister of Personnel Yang Bo was the "Heavenly Official," and Censor-in-Chief Ge Shouli was the head of the remonstrating officials, leading the "pure stream." Military power, personnel appointments, and the court’s public opinion were all in the hands of the Jin Faction.

Zhu Yijun looked at the Chengtian Gate, gilded by the sunset, and finally said, "Wait."

"Wait?" Feng Bao was confused. The Emperor knew the mastermind was Gao Gong, so why wait? They should bring the man to the capital, subject him to death by a thousand cuts, and restore the majesty of the throne.

Zhu Yijun walked inside the Chengtian Gate, and the gates of the Ming Imperial Palace creaked shut, completely isolating the inside from the outside.

The Emperor hadn't walked far when he saw the locked iron box placed at the palace gate. This was a task he had entrusted to Feng Bao, and it had been completed before nightfall.

Zhu Yijun looked at the suggestion box and said, "There was an assassin in the palace. Besides the method I taught you, do you have any other ideas, Big Companion Feng?"

Feng Bao replied immediately, "I do. There are eight regulations for palace security: first, changing the procurement vendors; second, prohibiting unauthorized access; third, issuing new identification tags; fourth, changing the guard shifts; fifth, clearing out encroaching residents; sixth, emphasizing rewards and punishments; seventh, vetting palace staff; and eighth, consolidating authority. The 'changing of vendors' means that until the palace gate opens, no one will know who is leaving to procure supplies..."

"Fine, you handle it." Zhu Yijun interrupted, waving his hand to indicate he didn't need the details. He looked at the iron box and asked, "Do you think this iron box method will be useful?"

Feng Bao bowed and said, "This servant believes it is useful. Rules are rules, but this iron box tests the human heart. As long as it sits here, everyone in the palace will be anxious and insecure. Everyone will have to guard against those around them, fearing they might be sold for the sake of another’s advancement."

The human heart cannot withstand such a test, and this iron box is a tool for testing it. As for false accusations, has the palace ever lacked such things?

Zhu Yijun headed toward the Qianqing Palace and continued, "You know the story of Shang Yang and the wooden pole, right? Now that the box is there, no one dares to report. You should arrange a 'water monkey'—or rather, plant an insider—to make a report, and then reward and promote them heavily. Once someone makes the first move, others will follow."

"This servant has already done so," Feng Bao answered hurriedly. Since the Emperor had provided the method, if he couldn't even handle this, what kind of Grand Eunuch would he be?

The young Emperor’s words left Feng Bao feeling uneasy. What kind of monster was his master? How could he speak of such insidious schemes as planting insiders so calmly and as a matter of course? It was as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Zhu Yijun nodded with satisfaction. "You have some natural intuition. The Outer Court has mixed plenty of sand into the palace gates. Use this matter to clear out that sand. But don’t clear it all out; leave a few unimportant eyes and ears. Otherwise, the ministers in the Outer Court won’t know what’s happening in the palace and will become suspicious again."

"Make sure these eyes and ears are not in crucial positions. They should be able to hear news but not see the full picture. The information that leaks out should be a mix of truth and falsehood—veiled and unclear—that is the highest art. They should know, but only a little bit."

Feng Bao wasn't stupid; he was just new to being the head eunuch and didn't know how to properly wield the power in his hands.

The Qianqing Palace was right in front of them. Feng Bao, no longer having duties inside, stopped at the gate, bowed deeply, and said loudly, "This servant obeys Your Majesty’s decree."

"Mother, I am back." Zhu Yijun put on a bright and cheerful smile as he entered the Qianqing Palace.

In front of the two Empress Dowagers, he was the bright and cheerful young Emperor.