Chapter Twenty-Eight: Strength Enough to Overcome Heaven

What is power?

Power is the ability to dream a dream and have it manifest the very next day. That is power.

Zhu Yijun was only ten years old. As a monarch, he had yet to command the court, nor did he possess any real authority. Yet, power is power. When he wished to learn martial arts, the hereditary military nobility and the elite imperial guards of the Ming Dynasty were there to train him with the latest tactical methods. When he wanted to farm, a hundred men immediately cleared the hundred-flower garden on Jingshan Hill to indulge the young Emperor’s whims.

Zhu Yijun noticed the young eunuchs were remarkably diligent. Yesterday, when he returned to the palace, they had just finished transplanting the flora and deep-plowing the soil; by today, they had even picked out the insects. Several officials from the Ministry of Works were busy planning the Baoqi Hall. Despite being called a hall, it was merely a five-bay, nine-purlin structure. The hall itself was a minor project; the real priority was the conservatory, which occupied about half a mu of land.

This conservatory, designed to protect seedlings from the "late spring chill," was a joint venture between the Imperial Armory and the Ministry of Works, equipped with water channels for heating.

For lighting, they adopted a full-glass enclosure plan—what Zhu Yijun understood as completely transparent glass supported by a steel frame.

Records of large-scale production of transparent glass existed as far back as the Sui and Tang dynasties. The "liuli" glazed tiles used in the palace were essentially colored glass, and for the various official kilns serving the imperial household, producing clear glass was considered a byproduct, mere waste.

These "waste" materials were now being repurposed for the conservatory.

To maintain warmth during the late spring chill, they covered the glass with thick straw mats. It was an eye-opening spectacle for the young Emperor. The construction was to be completed in a mere three days, and this half-mu conservatory would be the first miracle the young Emperor had ever witnessed.

The Ming Dynasty’s conservatories were never this extravagant; only the Emperor’s own nursery could afford such luxury.

Xu Zhenming looked into the young Emperor’s bright, curious eyes and said, "The Analects state: 'Do not eat what is not in season.' The Book of Han also says: 'Goods out of season are harmful to the people and should not be used for offerings.'"

"The meaning is that one should not eat what is not in season. To obtain food that is not in season requires the labor of the common people, which is an exploitation of their strength. One should not be so greedy for the desires of the palate."

"During the Western Han Dynasty, the imperial gardens grew onions, chives, and vegetables in winter by covering them with houses and burning fires day and night to create warmth—using greenhouses to grow out-of-season crops."

"By the Northern Wei Dynasty, they stopped burning fires inside the rooms and instead dug tunnels to conduct the heat, though it was inconvenient, as the fire underground was prone to extinguishing."

"By the Tang Dynasty, Chen Yuanshou, the Sima of Yizhou, built earthen rooms to grow out-of-season vegetables as tribute. Emperor Taizong was puzzled as to how fresh vegetables could exist in winter. When Chen explained the construction of the earthen rooms, Taizong was furious, rebuking him for exhausting the people's strength to curry favor. Chen was soon dismissed."

"During the reign of Empress Wu Zetian, she had a great love for peonies, and greenhouses sprouted across Chang'an and Luoyang to cultivate them. These were abandoned during the Kaiyuan era, only to be rebuilt during the Tianbao era to provide out-of-season fruits and vegetables for the royal household."

Xu Zhenming paused here. He did not want to fail the expectations of Zhang Juzheng, who had recommended him, so he had spoken a bit too much. The Emperor had not yet studied history; could he understand these words?

"Continue," Zhu Yijun said, clearly enthralled. He was digging the foundation himself with a spade tailored to his small stature. He signaled for Xu Zhenming, who was digging alongside him, to continue his explanation.

Xu Zhenming resumed: "By the Song and Yuan dynasties, such greenhouses had become quite common. In the capital during deep winter, yellow-bud vegetables and chives were available, grown by wealthy families in cellars and heated pits. Chives were expensive, costing dozens of times more than regular ones, yielding several times the profit."

Zhu Yijun frowned upon hearing this. "Scholar Xu, from what I hear, you are only describing the methods of the wealthy and powerful. How do the common people protect their seedlings from the late spring chill?"

Xu Zhenming hurriedly replied, "There are ways, there are ways. In Changping, near the capital, I saw farmers use sorghum stalks to build windbreaks to block the cold. After enclosing the vegetable plots, they cover the soil with horse manure and wood ash to retain heat and prevent the late spring chill from damaging the seedlings."

Xu Zhenming explained a multitude of folk farming tips, and Zhu Yijun called for Zhang Hong to bring a pen and notebook, recording every trick Xu mentioned.

It was the first time Zhu Yijun realized there was so much to the art of farming.

For instance: even if the soil was extremely fertile and the farmers were diligent with fertilizers, the crops might look vibrant but yield no grain. This was because the farmers did not know how to prune the floating roots and excess leaves to ensure a harvest.

Or: one must never blindly enter a deep well or storage pit, or one might suffocate. One must first open the entrance to ventilate, then lower a lit candle; if it stayed lit, it was safe to enter.

"To farm, one must understand the timing of the seasons, the nature of the soil, and the suitability of the crops. One must maximize limited conditions and avoid unfavorable factors. By aligning with the timing of the heavens, the pulse of the earth, and the nature of the objects, human effort can overcome Heaven!" Xu Zhenming said with great excitement.

"Human effort can overcome Heaven?" Zhu Yijun stopped writing and looked at Xu Zhenming, his eyes flickering.

"Human effort can overcome Heaven? That is a bold claim, is it not?"

Xu Zhenming realized he had spoken too freely. In the Ming Dynasty, there could only be one "Heaven"—the Emperor himself. To suggest "overcoming Heaven" sounded like treason.

Zhu Yijun smiled. "To overcome Heaven... you mean to overcome Nature, the unkindness of the elements, the exhaustion of the earth's fertility. It is an uplifting spirit of human resistance against natural disasters. Is that what you mean, Scholar Xu?"

"Your Majesty is wise!" Xu Zhenming let out a long sigh of relief. The Emperor’s interpretation was perfect—here, "Heaven" referred to nature.

Xu Zhenming quickly added, "Ma Yilong, styled Menghe, was a Jinshi from the 26th year of the Jiajing reign. He returned to his hometown in the 38th year to establish a school, recruiting displaced laborers to reclaim wasteland. The first year’s harvest was split, and thereafter all land belonged to the people. That half of the harvest was used to recruit more laborers for further reclamation."

"Master Menghe compiled a book on agriculture. Only one volume, barely six thousand characters, yet every word is a gem."

Xu Zhenming, having just been recommended to the court, was eager to give his mentor a chance to advance. Zhu Yijun did not resent such recommendations; if Ma Yilong truly worked for the benefit of the Ming people, bringing him to the capital would be a virtuous act.

"Where is Master Menghe now?" Zhu Yijun recorded the reclamation method. This approach—reclaiming wasteland, keeping only half the yield for the first year, and then giving the land to the tenants—was the act of a truly virtuous man, not a hypocrite.

Xu Zhenming had reclaimed 39,000 mu of land in one year, supporting two thousand households and over ten thousand people. He was truly a capable scholar who was willing to work. Such scholars were gentlemen.

"Master Menghe passed away at home the year before last." Xu Zhenming was not trying to recommend his mentor for a position; his mentor had died in the fifth year of the Longqing reign, the same year Xu himself had attained his Jinshi degree.

Xu Zhenming feared that if the Emperor misunderstood the phrase "human effort can overcome Heaven" as the words of a disloyal subject, he might discard Ma Yilong’s agricultural teachings, which would be a tragedy.

"What became of Master Menghe’s reclamation project?" Zhu Yijun asked, looking at Xu Zhenming.

Xu Zhenming said helplessly, "Master Menghe was a Jinshi, a member of the landed gentry, so the local power-brokers dared not offend him. After he passed away, there was no one to lead, and the project was abandoned."

"How much land was reclaimed?" Zhu Yijun asked again.

Xu Zhenming’s face grew pained. "127,000 mu. The commoners could not hold onto it; it was all encroached upon, and within months, it had gone to weeds."

Upon hearing this, Zhu Yijun put away his pen and paper and began to work again. "Could not hold onto it," "encroached upon," "gone to weeds"—these simple words painted a bloody picture of violent theft and extortion.

These reclaimed fields had no official deeds. The local power-brokers had feared Ma Yilong, knowing he had connections in the court. But once he breathed his last, they colluded with local officials to forge deeds and seize the land. The process was anything but peaceful.

The tenants and displaced laborers had finally managed to reclaim land under Ma Yilong’s protection, only to have it snatched away by powerful families wielding a piece of paper. The end result was the land turning into wasteland. The soil was poor, the yields were low, and the exorbitant rents demanded by the powerful families left the farmers starving. Who would continue to work under such conditions?

Zhu Yijun worked silently. Despite his youth, he did not slack off. As he dug, he muttered to himself. The entire court knew Zhang Juzheng was a man who held a grudge; if Zhang Juzheng was petty, then Zhu Yijun was even pettier, his heart as narrow as a needle.

The power-brokers of Liyang County, Suzhou, did not know they had already been marked by the young Emperor.

Zhu Yijun had gained much today. Before returning to the Qianqing Palace to wash, he said to Zhang Hong, "Big Companion Zhang, help me record this. That is my land! Extorting the people until they can no longer farm, and then letting it go to waste? A pack of dogs!"

Before entering the washroom, he emphasized again to Zhang Hong, "My land!"

"My son returned from Jingshan yesterday full of joy. Where does this anger come from today?" Empress Dowager Li, waiting for the meal to be served, noticed the young Emperor’s displeasure—no, it was fury.

Zhu Yijun recounted the story of Ma Yilong from beginning to end, then asked, "Does Mother know the details of why Xu Zhenming was impeached?"

"One must always investigate those around the Emperor," Empress Dowager Li said with a smile. "Let’s finish eating first. 'Do not speak while eating, do not speak while sleeping.'"