ITIEQ C32

Chapter 32 – Purging the Court

After being scolded so ferociously, Shen Qinghe was no clay figure either. He examined the old man standing before him: a long white beard hanging down to his chest, face blotched with age spots, trembling on his staff—yet his voice thundered without weakness. This was not one of his own local subordinates, but Xu the Elder, a once-renowned censor of the imperial Yushi Tai (Censorate) in the capital, who had since retired to his hometown.

Shen had heard of this man’s “copper sinews and iron bones” reputation. Though appearing frail, his vigor while rebuking someone was formidable—and now Shen experienced it firsthand.

Glancing over the group gathered smugly behind the old man, Shen immediately understood: So, they went and fetched reinforcements.

Respect for the elderly was still one of Shen Qinghe’s habits. He leisurely took his seat at the desk and spoke lightly:

“Elder Xu, at such an advanced age, you should be enjoying leisure at home. Who urged you here to glare and bluster? Tell me, and I will punish him soundly on your behalf!”

Xu Elder slammed his staff against the ground—bang, bang—and barked:

“What shamelessness is this! I may be old, but my eyes are not blind, nor my ears deaf. I see clearly your unruly conduct! Gathering retainers and bonded servants throughout the commandery—do you plan to turn grand Qiuquan into your private estate? Do you intend to reduce this court into your one-man hall before you are satisfied?”

His beard trembled with rage, as though he might collapse into faint any moment.

Those behind him wore expressions of righteous indignation, glaring furiously at the young commandery governor lounging with ease.

Shen Qinghe chuckled softly:

“The truth is, Elder Xu, though you are said to be a paragon of virtue and elder statesman of renown here in Qiuquan, I see it rather differently.”

Xu Elder’s eyes bulged:

“What did you just say?”

One of his supporters shouted angrily:

“Elder Xu was commanded by the court itself to retire with honor, to return home esteemed—how dare a junior such as you slander him!”

With the authority of his past career in court remonstrations, Xu Elder declared:

“Others may not move against you, but I can. Once I return, I will memorialize the throne and have your governorship stripped!”

So—the hidden blade reveals itself.

Shen Qinghe spoke unhurriedly:

“In the Great Yong dynasty, the system of Land Allotment and Retainer Protection was implemented. Officials, depending on their rank, could claim land—First Rank claiming fifty qing (large acreage), and each successive rank five qing fewer, until Ninth Rank which claimed ten. Beyond that, they could shelter tenant families as well, the higher the rank the more tenant households allotted.”

Xu Elder frowned:

“Naturally I know this. What of it?”

Shen Qinghe raised his brows slightly:

“If an official family thus enjoys tax exemption, some might exploit the system—turning self-tilling farmers into their tenants. Then they need not toil themselves, yet still reap rents in leisure. Elder Xu, how do you see this practice?”

Xu Elder’s expression grew strained:

“Ill in parts, perhaps, but still within the boundaries of law.”

A man among the group broke into cold sweat and urged:

“Elder Xu, beware! This lad is full of sly rhetoric—do not let him trick you!”

“Ah, what a cruel slander,” Shen Qinghe lifted a register from the desk, reading aloud distinctly:

“Lord Tian: received gifted fields of three thousand two hundred mu, with two hundred and eighty households of tenant farmers.”

He flipped to another page, eyes glinting:

“Lord Chu—hoh—received five thousand eight hundred mu, tenant farmers four hundred and sixty households.”

“Lord Zhang…”

As names and figures rolled on, sweat poured down their foreheads. When had this youth investigated them so minutely—their very undergarments flung open for all to see!

Xu Elder’s brows knotted as he turned toward them:

“Is this true?”

The group mumbled evasively, until finally one snapped, smashing the pot and letting it shatter:

“And you—are you so spotless? In mere days you’ve gathered over a hundred people! Even our own tenants forsook their lands and hurried to you, forced to sign servile contracts! Even if you oppose us, how dare you exploit the townsfolk, oppressing the people for your gain?”

Immediately they tried to justify themselves, pressing Xu Elder to return to their line of defense.

But Shen only leaned back in his chair, smiling easily:

“Who told you I forced anyone to sign contracts, making the folk my slaves?”

“Is it not so?”

“Those who labor under me eat steamed buns and porridge every meal, and also receive wages. I dare say this is the best treatment in all Qiuquan. Why can’t citizens choose to work for me?”

His smirk turned razor-sharp:

“You clutch purses tight in stinginess, begrudging my wealth spent freely. You hide your own shameful dealings but bring Elder Xu here to scold me? Such hypocrisy—strict with others but lax with yourselves—you are unworthy to be officials of this commandery!”

With each line he spoke, their faces grew paler.

So this youth truly dipped into his personal coffers, feeding the folk daily with his own coin? No wonder no one imagined it—that in history, no official ever did such a thing. Profitless, purposeless—what would he gain?

In Great Yong society, officials and commoners did not mingle. Scholars and commoners were divided. Such was the entrenched order. Discussing ideals with them was futile.

With laughter faint, Shen dropped the veil:

“But in one thing you are correct. I have no wish to wrangle longer, and I am tired of your meddling in my court. If Qiuquan Commandery becomes my one-man hall—what of it?”

In the capital, oppressed under great clans, there was nothing he could do. But here, in this forsaken backwater, must he still bow his head to these men? Absolutely not.

The local officials recoiled in shock at his audacity.

Shen recited calmly:

“Tian Qi. Chu Qingsheng. Liang Sanshang…”

One by one he named those officials who had postured behind Xu Elder earlier.

“Since you refuse to heed me, then resign and go idle.”

Those words dropped like thunder.

Everyone knew: this governor was exiled to Qiuquan only because the capital had abandoned him. True, governors did have authority to dismiss officials. But Qiuquan’s bureaucracy was tight-knit, rarely disrupted. To purge so many elders at once—how could he dare?

“Impudent child! How dare you?!”

Even Xu Elder himself grew uneasy. Weighing Shen with new eyes, he admitted the youth was clever-tongued and capable, but far too rash. Even if the others were wrong in part, such hotheaded purges would not bring him far on the bureaucratic road. Stroking his beard, Xu spoke earnestly:

“These are your colleagues, men once esteemed in their villages. To treat them so harshly dishonors all.”

Shen Qinghe slapped his palm on the desk, smiling razor-thin:

“Elder Xu, times have changed. Now under the imperial examination system, not the old recommendation system (cha-ju). Do you intend to remain a relic of past corruption?”

Xu’s face stiffened:

“So—you mean to set yourself against all the loyalists of Qiuquan?”

Shen replied coolly:

“Not so. Only against those who violate law. I hear your son-in-law holds office here as well… and that he too played a role in illegal land-taking. Are you, then, shielding lawbreakers?”

Xu Elder’s complexion twisted from shade to shade. He fell silent, yet stood firm, unwilling to retreat.

Shen sighed.

“I heard much in the capital of your upright name. Never thought, in retirement, you would invert your principles—tarnishing your legacy. I could stop you, but why preserve the rotten?”

He stepped toward the desk. Upon it lay a long, cloth-covered shape. With one pull, crimson silk fell away revealing an ornate scabbard of jet-black iron. With steady deliberation, Shen Qinghe drew the blade. A streak of cold light—at once laid against Xu Elder’s neck.

All gasped. Madness! Had the governor lost his reason—pressing steel to an elder statesman’s throat?

But in that instant, they beheld the full blade’s patterned surface. Engraved with the constellation of the Northern Dipper, misted with silver light—it could only be the legendary Imperial Sword of the Son of Heaven.

A weapon bestowed solely upon trusted intimates of the Emperor, conferring authority to “execute first, memorialize later.” They had heard rumors Shen Qinghe was exiled, cast aside. Yet here—how could this be?

Faces drained of blood. As if facing the Emperor himself, they knelt.

Shen’s voice froze like steel:

“Even in the old recommendation system, selection was for ‘filial and incorruptible’ men. But these thousands of acres of private land—what filialness, what incorruptibility is this? Xu Elder, you take sides, shelter villains, aged yet unworthy, betraying virtue. On behalf of the Emperor, I ought to strike and sever you as disloyal. Do you submit, or not?”

Xu Elder trembled. At last, the straight spine of his life bent—knees dropping, muttering:

“Th-this servant… this servant…”

Shen pressed the icy blade nearer. The old man collapsed fully to the floor.

Anger softened at last; Shen had never intended bloody execution. With a flick of wrist, the sword returned.

“For your faithful service in years past, and old age today, I spare you your life. But all titles, lands, privileges, hereditary rights—stripped. Never again invoke past glory.”

Half a lifetime of sweat turned to foam. Honor to disgrace—ruin in a breath.

Shen twisted the sword, now pointing at the cowering men behind:

“And as for you rabble—your kin-connections, your lofty backings—none of that matters here. You spurned resigning? Good. Then I shall revoke and strike your names. Back to farming with you! If you object, fetch reinforcements again. Show me who could overturn my will!”

At the direction of his blade, silence froze them.

That very night, the entire prefecture knew. The new governor, sword of the Emperor in hand, had expelled several senior officials; even Elder Xu himself was disgraced.

They had marched in proudly—emerged in disgrace like whipped dogs.

When the news reached Xue Bufan’s residence, his wine-cup fell to the floor, liquid spreading into a small pool.

“Can it be mistaken?”

The official with him sighed:

“No mistake. The rumors were wrong. Who would think one so young so favored by His Majesty? Fortunate for us, we never opposed him. Otherwise, now, we would be first to be purged.”

“But truly—the atmosphere is now rife with alarm. Everyone takes orders from this governor alone. Tell me: should we strike first? You’ve long been away from the capital. Perhaps following him, you truly might return—rather than rot here. These few years already feel like half a lifetime! …Brother Xue? Brother Xue?”

Xue Bufan turned, face blank.

“Granted the Son of Heaven’s Sword… permitted to act with such liberty…?”

The other consoled vaguely:

“Perhaps he possesses true extraordinary qualities?”

But Xue Bufan only muttered into the shadows:

“Decline, decline… why not return?” (quoting an ancient lament)

—

Meanwhile, lithe white pigeons winged south, carrying distant messages into the secluded imperial palace.

Eunuch Jinchang held a bamboo tube, rushing to present it to Emperor Zhaohuan:

“This must be from the northern commander’s pigeons.”

The Emperor was quietly reading. At these words he set aside the scroll and opened the tube. From within, a tiny rolled slip of paper, his eyes passing line by line—his brows relaxed.

During afternoons, none were permitted to disturb him at reading—save for reports from his old troops stationed in the wild northwest. At these, he checked instantly. Jinchang was right—it could only be that.

Yet the Emperor said:

“It is northern news indeed, but not from the commander.”

The young sovereign carried the paper to his desk, flattening it out.

Curious, Jinchang blinked:

“Then… who?”

The Emperor glanced sideways—but with a smiling gaze, without wrath. Jinchang hastily raised a hand to cover his mouth, feigning silence.

The Emperor chuckled:

“That brat—always stirring trouble, even in some remote corner. Out there beyond my reach—he must have suffered some hardships. All the better; it will temper that fiery temper of his.”

Jinchang’s eyes rolled cunningly, then he broke into cheerful praise:

“Who would have thought a lowly criminal servant like me would witness such favor from Your Majesty—indeed, thanks only to Young Lord Shen! Did Your Majesty himself not once remark, ‘the bravado of youth is not all flaw’? Young Lord Shen is blessed indeed. No matter where he goes, he will avert disaster and achieve great deeds.”

Indeed, ever since Shen left, the Emperor’s words grew fewer. Without realizing, Jinchang had seen the truth—that only in Shen’s company did His Majesty reveal warmth. Now, even a mere letter from Shen could bring brightness to that august face. Even the most dedicated servants here could never do the same. Though exiled, Shen was clearly remembered by the throne—treated more dearly than many ministers of the capital. A return seemed inevitable.

“Your tongue is ever glib,” the Emperor laughed, scolding lightly as he readied brush and ink. “That place was chosen far from courts, its affairs simple. With Uncle Yao stationed not too far, nothing grave should occur. That is good too—spares him constant bouts of combative pride here at court.”

Reviewing Shen’s words, the Emperor saw lively spirit—not bleakness. Content, he nodded.

“If he wishes to mine, let him mine. Should he succeed, it will someday adorn his résumé with merit shining.”

Then he instructed:

“The new year festival soon arrives. After you dispatch this reply, assign a courier to carry a New Year’s gift. The journey is long and mountainous—yet just in time.”

Jinchang answered at once:

“Indeed, Your Majesty’s care would make Lord Shen beam with delight!”

Footnotes

1. Yushi Tai (御史臺) – The Censorate, a powerful imperial watchdog office where officials impeached and scrutinized others.
2. Land Allotment and Retainer Protection system (占田蔭客制) – Historical land/tenant privilege system where officials held special exemptions of land and dependent households.
3. Cha-ju system (察舉制) – An earlier selection system based on recommendation of the morally upright (filial and incorruptible), replaced by imperial examinations (科舉).

4. “Decline, decline, why not return?” (式微，式微，胡不歸) – From the Book of Songs (Shijing), a poem lamenting ruin, often quoted to express despair.