《弘道錄》Vol. 33

Yan Shu could write essays by the age of seven. In the early Jingde era (around 1004), Zhang Zhibai was sent to inspect Jiangnan and recommended him as a “child prodigy.” Emperor Zhenzong summoned Yan Shu to the palace and had him sit an examination alongside the jinshi degree candidates. Yan Shu remained calm, picked up his brush, and composed an essay at once. The emperor greatly admired him.

The emperor often consulted Yan Shu on matters of state. Yan Shu usually wrote his replies on small slips of paper, sealed them together with his drafts, and presented them to the emperor. The emperor valued his caution and care. Later, when Yan Shu became prefect of Yingtian Prefecture, he invited Fan Zhongyan, a distinguished official of the Northern Song, to teach the students. Yan Shu had always been good at recognizing talent. In his day, renowned figures such as Fan Zhongyan and Daofu had studied under him; Fu Bi and Yang Cha were also his sons-in-law.

After becoming chancellor, Yan Shu devoted himself even more to recommending worthy people. Fan Zhongyan, Han Qi, and Fu Bi were later appointed to office, and many officials serving in the central government were among the finest of their generation. Emperor Renzong resolved to rely on talented people to revitalize government. By the Kangding and Qingli eras (1040–1048), the court was said to be rich in talent—all thanks to Yan Shu’s recommendations.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Mencius said that the wise person understands everything, but the most important thing is to do well what needs to be done now. Should recognizing talent not be a chancellor’s foremost duty? Yan Shu was first recommended for his reputation as a child prodigy and ultimately became known for his ability to recognize talent. This shows that he was not the sort of person who could not even tell how long one should observe mourning. Was it not only natural that he later became a celebrated statesman?

When Fan Zhongyan was prefect of Yanzhou, the court had previously arranged for the border troops to be divided into ranks of command: the commander-in-chief led ten thousand men, the assistant commander five thousand, and the deputy commander three thousand. Yet when enemy forces invaded and had to be repelled, the troops were sent into battle according to the officers’ rank, with those of lower rank required to fight first. Fan Zhongyan said, “Choosing commanders by rank rather than ability, and deciding who goes first by rank, is a recipe for defeat.”

He therefore conducted a large-scale review of the troops in Yanzhou, selected eighteen thousand men, and assigned them to six commanders, three thousand under each. He had the soldiers train day and night and sent them out in rotation to defend against the enemy, according to the size of the opposing force. When the enemy heard of this, they warned one another: “Don’t even think of attacking Yanzhou. The ‘Little Fan’ now has tens of thousands of armored troops in his belly. He is not like the ‘Great Fan,’ whom we could bully.” “Little Fan” refers to Fan Zhongyan; “Great Fan” refers to his elder brother, Fan Yong.

The Hongdao Lu comments: I see that when Fan Zhongyan was starting out, he was merely a scholar. How could he have “tens of thousands of armored troops in his belly”? Ah, this is exactly what Zhang Yong meant when he said that wisdom must be applied to matters both great and small. Was sending troops out to fight and rest in rotation not the result of adapting flexibly to circumstances? Thus, if a person knows how to use wisdom, then within the space of a few inches—that is, in the mind and its plans—one can…

If one cannot think things through thoroughly, even wisdom will leave one helpless. These matters depend on oneself; they do not vary according to a person’s rank or age. Anyone reading this should understand that.

Di Qing was cautious and reserved, steady in temperament, and rich in strategic insight. Whenever he planned an undertaking, he examined it carefully and acted only when the time was right. When leading troops, he first put the ranks in order, made rewards and punishments clear, and shared hardships and comforts with his soldiers. When the enemy attacked, not one soldier dared to fall behind.

Di Qing began his military career at the lowest level, serving as a junior officer. In the early Baoyuan era (1038), Zhao Yuanhao rebelled, and the soldiers were afraid to fight. Whenever Di Qing went into battle, he let his hair hang loose, wore a bronze mask, and charged into the enemy ranks. Wherever he went, the enemy scattered, and he repeatedly won extraordinary distinction. Yin Zhu recognized his talent and recommended him, saying, “This man has the makings of a fine general.” Fan Zhongyan gave him the Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals, saying, “A general who knows nothing of past or present is merely showing off the courage of an ordinary man.” From then on, Di Qing disciplined himself and devoted himself to reading, becoming familiar with military strategy from the Qin and Han dynasties onward.

When Nong Zhigao rebelled, the emperor was deeply concerned. At the time, Di Qing served as deputy director of the Privy Council, an official responsible for military affairs. He submitted a memorial requesting permission to lead an expedition, and was promoted to pacification commissioner and sent to Guangnan. At first, Chen Shu, a military commander, gave poor orders, and the army was routed. Di Qing said, “The lack of unified command is precisely why the army has been defeated.” He then executed Chen Shu. The other commanders trembled with fear, and none dared raise his head to look at him.

Di Qing then held his troops in place and had them camp and rest for ten days. The enemy scouts assumed he would not attack at once. The next day, Di Qing marshaled his forces and marched through the day and night. He crossed Kunlun Pass and routed the enemy at Guirenpu. When the bodies were counted, they found one wearing a golden dragon robe. Everyone said it must be Nong Zhigao, who had died, and wanted to report the news to the court. Di Qing said, “How do we know this is not an enemy ruse? I dare not deceive the court just to claim credit.”

Even after Di Qing had risen to high rank, the tattoo on his face remained. The emperor once ordered that it be removed. Pointing to his face, Di Qing said, “Your Majesty promoted me for my achievements and did not question my origins. I owe my position today to this tattoo. I hope to keep it as an encouragement to the soldiers.” He did not dare accept the decree.

Later, when Di Qing headed the Privy Council, someone presented him with a document of appointment claiming that he was a distant ancestor of Di Liang. Di Qing declined, saying, “I merely happened to find an opportunity for a time. How could I presume to claim descent from Di Liang?” He gave the man a gift and sent him away.

The Hongdao lu comments: People speak of Nong Zhigao, but was Di Qing not even more remarkable? A wise person quickly recognizes the moment for action; what matters is acting swiftly. Adapting to circumstances calls for flexibility: one should have no fixed way of acting and leave no fixed trace. And to avoid grasping at lucky chances, to remember past humiliation, and not to rush recklessly—these, too, are the conduct of those who understand the Way and reason.

A general with such ability was already rare, yet he still could not escape suspicion in the end. If even one of these conditions had been mishandled, the outcome would ultimately have been just as hard to avoid. When a gentleman assesses someone, he must pay attention to the things that are easily overlooked.

In the winter of the first year of Xining in Emperor Shenzong’s reign (1068), in the eleventh month, the court was to hold a ceremony at the southern suburb to sacrifice to Heaven and Earth. At the time, the senior ministers in government cited drought in the regions north of the Yellow River and inadequate funds in the state treasury as reasons for asking that no gold or silk be distributed during the ceremony. The emperor ordered the scholars to discuss the matter.

Sima Guang said, “Relief for disasters and restraint in spending should begin with the powerful and those close to the emperor. We can grant this request.”

Wang Anshi said, “Chang Gun, an official of the Tang dynasty, once declined the court’s provision of meals at his office. He said, ‘I know I am unfit for office, and can resign my post; but I cannot refuse my salary.’ The treasury lacks funds because no one has been found who is skilled at managing finances.”

Sima Guang said, “What people call skill at managing finances is simply stepping up the extraction of wealth and levies from the people.”

Wang Anshi said, “That is not so. Someone skilled at managing finances can make public funds sufficient without increasing taxes.”

Sima Guang said, “How could such a thing be possible? The wealth produced by Heaven and Earth is always limited in quantity. If it is not in the hands of the people, it is in the hands of the government. When the government devises ways to take the people’s wealth, the harm is worse than raising taxes. This was merely a claim by Sang Hongyang, the Han dynasty minister who advocated financial management, meant to deceive Emperor Wu of Han. Sima Qian recorded it in order to criticize the emperor for failing to understand the matter.”

The two sides argued without reaching agreement. The emperor said, “I think as Sima Guang does. For now, reply that the request is not approved.” Wang Anshi drafted the edict, invoking Chang Gun’s example to reproach the senior ministers of the two central offices—the Secretariat and the Privy Council—and so he himself stopped refusing the provision.

The Hongdao lu comments: In the past, Bi Zhongyou, an official of the Song dynasty, was valued by Sima Guang. He once wrote to Sima Guang: “Wang Anshi moved the late emperor with talk of launching initiatives, but worried that funds would be insufficient. So he exhausted every means of obtaining wealth from the people. The Green Sprouts Law and the establishment of the Market Exchange Bureau were specific measures; his true intention was to launch initiatives while worrying about insufficient funds. If this intention is not dispelled, and one only tries to prohibit those measures, then even a hundred arguments will be just as ineffective.” How perceptive those words were!

Moreover, in the middle period of the Song dynasty, the realm enjoyed peace and prosperity, and there was no trouble at the borders. In addition, Emperor Renzong had been prudent and frugal, and Emperor Yingzong had succeeded him; at first there had been no unusual expenditure. Yet public funds were still insufficient, and even the needs of the suburban sacrifices could not be fully met. How could a newly enthroned ruler, eager to prove himself, not be stirred by this? On the surface, the emperor rejected the senior ministers’ request; in fact, this showed that he had fully accepted Sima Guang’s view. Thus the sage rulers of antiquity were free of desire and indifferent to wealth, and did not seek to make public funds sufficient; for that reason, they knew no lack. They did not seek abundance…

Only then can nothing remain unfulfilled. Those who regard abundance as a source of worry and make satisfaction their goal may argue in every possible way, yet my position will grow ever more distant from theirs, while their views will draw ever closer to one another.

Given this, it was not Anshi (Wang Anshi) who actively sought the emperor’s favor; rather, the emperor entrusted himself to Anshi. How could Anshi’s intentions have been the same as Guang’s (Sima Guang)?

Yue Fei, a Bingyilang officer, was about to be punished for breaking the law. When Zong Ze, a general of the Southern Song, saw him, he judged him to be extraordinary and said, “This man has the makings of a commander.” Just then, the Jin forces attacked Sishui. Zong Ze gave Yue Fei five hundred cavalry and a chance to redeem himself through service. Yue Fei promptly returned after routing the Jin forces, and was promoted to commanding officer.

Zong Ze told him, “Your resourcefulness, courage, and skill are such that even the finest generals of antiquity could scarcely surpass you. But you prefer to fight in the open field, and that is not a sure way to victory.” He then gave Yue Fei diagrams of battle formations. Yue Fei replied, “Forming ranks before battle is the standard principle of military strategy. The key to using it with skill lies in adapting to circumstances.” Zong Ze approved of what he said. Yue Fei gradually became well known.

Yue Fei submitted a memorial saying that the armies rallying to defend the emperor were growing day by day, and that they should attack while the enemy was off guard. Huang Qianshan, Wang Boyan, and the others, however, failed to understand the emperor’s intentions. Instead of recovering the lost territory, they escorted the emperor’s carriage farther and farther south. This, he feared, would not sustain the hopes of the people in the Central Plain. He asked the emperor to lead the six armies himself and cross the Yellow River north while the enemy’s defenses were still unsettled. This would hearten the troops and make it possible to recover the Central Plain.

For submitting a memorial on military affairs beyond his official remit, Yue Fei was stripped of his post and sent under escort to Zhang Suo. Zhang Suo asked him, “How many enemies do you think you can hold off?” Yue Fei replied, “Bravery alone is not something one can rely on. In warfare, one must first make sound plans. Luan Ji defeated the Jing forces by dragging brushwood, while Mo’ao went up the mountain to gather firewood and brought about the defeat at Jiao. In both cases, the plan had already been settled.” Zhang Suo exclaimed in surprise, “You must be no ordinary soldier.” He then appointed Yue Fei as a Wujinglang officer.

Commentary in the Hongdao Lu: In my view, Zong Ze, as a commanding officer, and Zhang Suo, as an official charged with recruiting and pacifying the people, showed real discernment in recognizing Yue Wumu (Yue Fei). During the Jingkang era, Zhang Suo risked a dangerous breakout to send out a secret wax-sealed letter, recruiting soldiers and civilians in Hebei. On receiving the letter, one person said joyfully, “The court has abandoned us, but there is still a Zhang Chayuan who can promote and employ us.” Seventeen thousand people answered the call.

As the defender of the capital, Dongjing, Zong Ze wanted to cross the Yellow River from Huazhou during the summer heat, then advance along separate routes to seize Huaizhou, Weizhou, Xunzhou, Xiangzhou, and other places. More than a million loyal people in the mountain strongholds were ready to respond. Huang Qianshan and Wang Boyan, however, treated the nation’s most fundamental affairs with indifference. It is clear, then, that when Yue Fei spoke out beyond his official remit, he was in fact carrying out the duties of Huang and Wang. If there had been rulers like Gao and Guang—ones capable of recovering the lost territory…

Could accepting Xiao He’s advice and listening to Deng Yu’s counsel really fail to achieve great success? (Xiao He and Deng Yu were important strategists in the early Han and Eastern Han dynasties, respectively.) They had wisdom and courage in abundance, yet in the end their talents went unrecognized, like treasures cast into darkness. A gentleman should attribute this only to whether these men were fortunate in their circumstances, and need not blame the emperor and his ministers for being wise or unwise.

Zhao Ding and Zhang Jun jointly served as Left and Right Vice Directors of the Department of State Affairs and as Directors of the Bureau of Military Affairs, commanding the armies of the various circuits. At the time, Zhao Ding and Zhang Jun got along very well. After their appointments were announced, Yu Chu, a collator at the Historiography Institute, advised them: “For now, the two of you should remain together in the Bureau of Military Affairs. When Zhao Ding steps down, Zhang Jun can succeed him. This way, there will be little disruption in the handling of affairs or the appointment of officials, and the court’s momentum can continue. If both of you hold the office of chief minister at the same time, then should you disagree, one of you may be dismissed. The court would then inevitably have to reshuffle its personnel, and worthy men might be driven apart.” As it turned out, things later unfolded just as Yu Chu had predicted.

The Hongdao Lu records: “I have observed that Yu Chu, courtesy name Zicun, was indeed often right in his judgments. After Xiao He died, Cao Shen rose to prominence; Bing Ji came before Wei Xiang; Fang Xuanling devised plans, while Du Ruhui made the decisions; Chongwen was adept at adapting to circumstances, while Jingde governed according to the law. Though these men were of one mind and shared the same virtue, in practice they succeeded one another, each carrying forward the virtue and achievements of those who came before. In this way, moral principles endured, accomplishments continued through later generations, and they became models admired by those who followed.”

Although Zhao Ding and Zhang Jun both devoted themselves wholeheartedly to the public good, Zhang Jun fell out with Zhao Ding over a single remark containing the word “flying,” while Zhao Ding trusted Qin Hui completely because of his outward show of kindness and respect. From this, it seems they may not truly have set aside self-interest. How, then, could they be sure that suspicion would not arise between them and drive them apart? In the end, they fell out over a small grievance raised by someone else. Yu Chu’s advice was not without foundation, so I have recorded the matter.

Taking Yue Fei’s fate as a warning, Han Shizhong donated to the court one million strings of cash and nine hundred thousand dan of rice that he had stored for military use, along with fifteen wine shops, and submitted a memorial asking to retire. From then on, he shut his doors to visitors and no longer spoke of military affairs. In his daily life, he would ride a donkey, bring wine, and wander freely among the lakes and hills with one or two young attendants, content in his own pleasure. His officers and staff rarely saw him.

When Han Shizhong first fell ill, the emperor ordered an imperial physician to examine and treat him. Han Shizhong said, “I began as a commoner and endured hardship and a hundred battles before rising to the high rank of a prince. By Heaven’s protection, I have been able to keep my life. Why should you grieve over my death?” He once warned his family: “My name is Shizhong. Do not avoid saying the word ‘loyalty’ out of respect for my name; to avoid speaking of it is to forget loyalty and righteousness.” He was especially opposed to making peace…

Zhao Ding repeatedly criticized Qin Hui in his memorials. Someone urged him to be more restrained, saying, “These days, fear of bringing disaster upon yourself can actually help you stay safe. But when the time comes, even if you close your eyes, will you really be able to face the Taizu and endure a beating with an iron staff?” At the time, many senior generals tried to protect themselves by going along with Qin Hui. Han Shizhong and Qin Hui both served at court, but beyond exchanging formal greetings, Han never discussed state affairs with him.

When Han Shizhong planned military campaigns, his equipment was of exceptional quality. He was skilled at recognizing and promoting talent, and the commanders under him later went on, one after another, to become military commissioners. After retiring to his home for ten years, he remained unassuming and composed, as though he had never held power or rank.

The Hongdao lu comments: Some people say that Han Shizhong wisely chose to enjoy the pleasures of mountains and rivers. But gentlemen consider this wrong. Why? King Goujian of Yue slept on brushwood and tasted gall, and only later did the state of Wu fall. In our dynasty, Jing Mian, a figure of the late Northern Song, acted recklessly and bullied Chen Nan; the Song dynasty then fell as well. These were events people at the time had heard with their own ears and seen with their own eyes. It is lamentable that rulers did not make avenging humiliation and eliminating evil their aim, while their chief ministers instead made it their priority to sideline meritorious officials and envy the capable. As a result, heroic generals became merely compliant courtiers, secretly seeking to protect themselves. Could this really have been what they wanted?

Han Shizhong firmly opposed a peace agreement, but in the end his objections remained empty words and were never acted upon. So did the spirits of the sage rulers of past dynasties in heaven know what was happening, or did they not?

During the Battle of Shunchang, Liu Qi recruited Cao Cheng and another man to infiltrate the enemy as spies. When they encountered the enemy, the two pretended to fall from their horses, and, as expected, were captured by the Jin army. Jin Wuzhu asked them, “What sort of man is Liu Qi?” They replied, “He is only a frontier commander from peacetime, fond of dancing and female entertainers. Since the court has made peace with the other state, it sent him to guard the eastern capital so he could enjoy a comfortable life.” Jin Wuzhu was delighted to hear this and said, “A man like that will be easy to defeat.”

The next day, Jin Wuzhu came to the city walls and demanded to know why his commanders had suffered repeated defeats. They all said, “The Southern Court’s way of waging war is no longer what it used to be.” Jin Wuzhu did not believe them. Liu Qi then led his troops out to meet the enemy. His men asked to attack Han Chang’s forces first. Liu Qi said, “Even if we attack Han Chang and drive him back, Jin Wuzhu’s elite troops will still be there and will remain difficult to resist. According to the art of war, we should strike Jin Wuzhu first. Once he moves, the other enemy forces will be nothing to fear.”

At the time, Jin Wuzhu wore a white robe, had set aside his armored horse, and led three thousand personal guards into battle. They all wore heavy armor and iron helmets, and were known as the “Iron Pagoda.” Liu Qi’s soldiers used long spears to knock off the enemy’s iron helmets, then hacked off their arms with axes. The Jin army also had a kind of cavalry known as the “Guazi Cavalry,” famed as the “Ever-Victorious Army.” Liu Qi defeated them in this battle as well.

Liu Qi had fewer than twenty thousand troops in this battle, and only five thousand actually fought. His repeated victories were chiefly due to his settling on a strategy in advance and not being swayed by the opinions of other commanders. He was also skilled at seizing victory when the enemy grew overconfident, and at using…

Use a small force to control a larger enemy, and a rested army to confront a weary one: this is how victory can be achieved. Hong Hao, an envoy of the Southern Song who was detained in the Jin state, secretly sent a memorial from there, reporting: “After the great victory at Shunchang, where Liu Qi defeated the Jin forces, the Jin were shocked and afraid. They planned to abandon the territory south of Yanjing. If the commanders of the various armies had acted together and pursued the enemy along separate routes, Wuzhu, the Jin commander-in-chief Wanyan Zongbi, could have been captured, and Bianjing, the former Northern Song capital, could have been recovered. But the Song army hurriedly withdrew and threw away its own opportunity. It is truly regrettable.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “The art of war says that a general must possess wisdom, trustworthiness, benevolence, courage, and strictness. Of these, wisdom comes first. This is precisely why Liu Qi won the great victory at Shunchang, to the joy and encouragement even of those who drew salaries from the court. But by then, peace negotiations had already been concluded. It was like submitting an essay after the examination hall had closed: it might have some merit, but little more. Beyond that, the two sides were on friendly terms and negotiating peace. What opportunity could there be?”

Wang Lixin served as commissioner for military operations along the Yangtze, an office responsible for defending the river corridor. While in Jiangling, he submitted a memorial asking that the forces at Anlu Prefecture be reinforced and that troops stationed on the frontier not be withdrawn or reduced. He said that there were three possible courses of action. First, all the troops in the inland prefectures should be brought out to strengthen the outer defenses. The forces now numbered more than seven hundred thousand; seven tenths were old, weak, or unfit, but after dismissing two tenths of the total, more than five hundred thousand elite soldiers could still be selected. The defenses along the Yangtze stretched no more than seven thousand li. A garrison should be established every hundred li, each under a commander; ten garrisons would form a command, each led by an overall commander. Troop strength should be doubled at especially dangerous points. In peacetime, boats should patrol the Huai and Yangtze rivers; in an emergency, forces in the east and west should rise together, combining battle with defense. The clamor of their weapons would carry from camp to camp, supplies would keep moving without interruption, and the units would support one another, forming a connected whole. A prince of the imperial house or a loyal and capable minister should be chosen to command them, with one commander based in each of the eastern and western commands. Together they would form a deployment like “Suiran,” the legendary snake whose head and tail respond to each other. This would be the best course. Keeping the other side’s envoys in prolonged captivity would do us no good and would only give the enemy an excuse. It would be better to send them home with courtesy and agree to pay an annual tribute, thereby delaying the enemy’s campaign. Within two or three years, the frontier could become somewhat more peaceful, the defenses could gradually be strengthened, and the number of new recruits could steadily grow. Then we would be able both to fight and to defend ourselves. This would be the second-best course.

When Jia Sidao, the powerful Southern Song chancellor, received the memorial, he flung it to the ground and cursed, “That blind fool is talking nonsense. How dare he say such things!” He then used harsh legal charges to have Wang Lixin dismissed. Later, after Jia Sidao returned defeated from battle, the court reinstated Wang Lixin as commissioner for military operations and sent him to Jiankang, present-day Nanjing, to recruit soldiers and distribute them among the prefectures along the Yangtze. Wang Lixin set out that very day. He met Jia Sidao at Wuhu, patted him on the back, and said, “You didn’t believe what I told you, and that’s how things came to this.” Wang Lixin then reached Jiankang.

The army defending the city collapsed completely, and Yuan troops surrounded it on every side. Li Xin knew the situation could no longer be salvaged. He sighed and said, “In life I am a minister of the Song; in death I will remain a ghost of the Song.” Someone told Bayan, a Yuan general, about the two strategies Li Xin had proposed. Bayan sighed and said, “The Song has a man like this. If they had truly adopted his strategies, how could I have advanced this far?”

The Hongdao lu comments: Mencius said that anyone unable to distinguish right from wrong could not be counted as a human being. By that time, the strategy of setting up defenses along the Yangtze River was already a poor one. It was like a person burned so badly that his head was scorched and his forehead blistered: not a moment could be wasted in putting out the fire. For someone to act recklessly at such a time—could he really have lost his senses?

Yet although he seemed to have lost his senses, perhaps that was not truly the case. Rather, after being confused by something like poison for a long time, his wrongdoing had piled up to its limit, bringing him to this point. He could no longer be considered a normal person. Heaven would use Zheng Huchen to expose his treason, so events had to unfold this way.

The Huangming mingchen lu records that the Earl of Sincerity, Liu Ji, known by the courtesy name Bowen, was a founding merit official of the Ming dynasty. He was generous and resourceful, and had a thorough knowledge of astronomy. At the time, he lived in Hangzhou. Once, while visiting West Lake, he suddenly saw strange clouds rising in the northwest, their light and color reflected in the water. His companions all took them for auspicious clouds and composed poems, each using a different rhyme. Liu Ji alone drank his wine and said, “These are signs of an emperor. They will come to pass in Jinling, present-day Nanjing. In ten years, a ruler will rise, and I should assist him.”

After Taizu, Zhu Yuanzhang, captured Jinhua and pacified Kuocang, Liu Ji again pointed to the celestial signs and told those close to him, “This is the Mandate of Heaven. How could human effort alone accomplish it?” Later, Zhu Yuanzhang indeed sent an envoy to recruit him. Liu Ji then took a back road to Jinling and presented eighteen proposals on current affairs.

At that time, Chen’s forces invaded. Some advised surrendering the city; others believed that Mount Zhong had the aura of a ruler and wanted to flee there and occupy it. Liu Ji alone said, “In my view, the best course is to use the money in the government treasury to reassure the soldiers and win their trust. Besides, Heaven’s way has always favored the side that strikes later and gains the advantage. We should lay an ambush, wait for the right moment, and attack. This is the moment to establish our authority, subdue the enemy, and achieve the work of kingship.”

Taizu adopted Liu Ji’s strategy. Taking advantage of an east wind, he sent out the ambush troops, who killed or captured countless enemies. The Secretariat set up an imperial seat, preparing to enthrone the Little Bright King, Han Lin’er, leader of the Red Turbans. Liu Ji angrily rebuked them: “He is only a shepherd boy. Why enthrone him?” He also explained where the Mandate of Heaven lay. Taizu was moved and came to his senses, then decided to devise his own plan for conquering the realm.

Hu Junmei, the commander defending Hongdu, sent his son to negotiate a surrender. Taizu was initially hesitant. Liu Ji kicked the stool on which he was sitting from behind. Taizu understood what he meant and agreed to accept the surrender, so Hu Junmei offered up the city.

Later, Taizu repeatedly wanted to appoint Liu Ji as chancellor, but Liu Ji declined each time, saying, “The chancellorship is a great responsibility for the state. It is like replacing the pillars of a house; one must…”

Only someone with sound judgment can handle matters properly. If one forces things together like short pieces of wood bound into a bundle, they will soon topple. As for me, I neither understand my own shortcomings nor can I bear to confront evil without haste; I am also impatient with complicated affairs. I should therefore temporarily resign as chancellor and repay the sovereign’s profound kindness.

The emperor consequently valued him even more, calling him “Old Sir” rather than addressing him by name. He also said, “He is my Zhang Liang,” the early Han adviser renowned for his strategic planning. Zhang Liang had once written a book, fearing he might not live to see it circulate, and left it for the people of later generations. Yet the emperor later personally appointed him. Thus the record of his achievements in government can all be found in his book. This was precisely why the Yuan dynasty fell: its government failed to put his proposals into practice. By contrast, his proposals were embodied in the record of his achievements, and this was also why the Great Ming rose. The appointment or dismissal of a single person could have such profound consequences for the state and the realm.

The Hongdao lu comments: Yang Wenyi (Yang Shiqi) once said that Zhang Liang’s strategies were never written down and passed on, while much of Fang Xuanling’s writing served to analyze matters and draft documents; he left behind neither founding achievements nor writings for posterity. This gentleman—the person referred to earlier—deserves to be called a hero for the ages. Some criticize him because he once served the Yuan dynasty; others praise him only for his skill in observing the heavens. That is like faulting Yi Yin for having served several rulers, or reducing the achievements of the Duke of Zhou to mere technical skill. In my view, this gentleman’s resignation as chancellor and refusal to claim credit clearly reveal his wisdom in distinguishing the worthy from the foolish. People of the world think no one can compare with him, yet he still considers himself inadequate. This humility makes him far greater than those who rely on cleverness and use political schemes.

During the Yongle and Xuande eras, three famous ministers at court were known as the “Three Yangs”: Yang Shiqi, posthumously titled Wenzhen, or “Western Yang”; Yang Rong, posthumously titled Wenmin, or “Eastern Yang”; and Yang Pu, posthumously titled Wending, or “Southern Yang.” Yang Rong was naturally quick-witted and decisive in his work. Whenever the court sent eunuchs to the Grand Secretariat to discuss a matter, they would first ask, “Is Eastern Yang here?” If they learned that he was away, they would turn back. In deliberations, Yang Rong never slighted Yang Shiqi. Yet when Yang Shiqi judged that something could not be carried out, Yang Rong’s later assessment often showed that it could indeed be done, without causing any harm.

Each autumn, the emperor ordered civil and military officials to review the cases of prisoners charged with serious crimes. Officials from the Duke of Ying downward would defer to the two gentlemen Yang and await their decisions. Yang Shiqi did not readily reach a verdict when questioning a case, and sometimes the proceedings dragged on without resolution. Yang Rong, by contrast, needed to ask only once before delivering his judgment, winning everyone’s admiration.

At the time, the emperor was wise and formidable, and few ministers could respond to his questions in a way that pleased him. Only the emperor recognized Yang Rong’s abilities, and he kept him close by almost every day. Yang Rong was invariably involved in confidential plans and important decisions. Sometimes the ministers deliberated for a long time without reaching a decision, and Emperor Taizong of the Ming, whose temple name was Wenmiao, would grow displeased and even angry. Then Eastern Yang…

As soon as a matter arose, he would temper his authority, and the matter would soon be dealt with. Dong Yang (Yang Rong, a Ming grand secretary) once said to Xia Taichang Zhongzhao (Xia Chang, who had held an office in the Court of Imperial Sacrifices):

“I often feel deep regret when I see ministers suffer for speaking out with integrity and courage. There is a proper measure for serving the ruler, and a suitable way to offer remonstrance. For example, if the emperor is reading the Thousand Character Classic and comes to ‘Heaven and Earth are dark and yellow,’ you should not immediately interject, ‘That may not be so.’ How do you know the emperor is not testing you? You do not know what is in the ruler’s mind. It would be better to wait until he reads that passage again, or asks about it himself, and then reply, ‘When I was young, I learned the Thousand Character Classic as “Heaven and Earth are dark and yellow”; I do not know whether that is correct.’ In general, this is how a wise minister responds.”

He also said to Li Shixun:

“Before Mr. Xi Yang (Yang Shiqi, a Ming grand secretary) entered official service, he befriended Wu Youweng, a professor at the Prince of Chu’s residence. Wu Youweng told me that the gentleman was widely learned and quick-witted, generous in character, and well versed in affairs. He did not boast or treat others with arrogance. Later, when he became a close attendant at court and helped manage confidential state affairs, he handled matters with fairness and tolerance. His thoughts were always devoted to the state, without the slightest trace of self-interest.

“When important government affairs or difficult matters arose, people often argued without end, while he alone remained silent. After a long while, he would slowly offer his view, and everyone would be impressed. When a difference of opinion had to be reported to the emperor, the others would submit their memorials, but in the end the emperor would often adopt the gentleman’s proposal.

“In the emperor’s presence, whenever something arose, he spoke his mind fully without regard for his own interests. When judging whether people were worthy and capable, or explaining someone’s faults, he acted entirely from public duty, never weighing matters differently because of private gratitude or resentment. His sound counsel and correction of mistaken decisions could turn the course of events, yet he never boasted of these things to others. From this, one can see how ministers and chief ministers ought to fulfill their duties.”

The compiler of the Hongdao lu comments:

“In my view, the circumstances of the Three Yangs (Yang Shiqi, Yang Rong, and Yang Pu) were much like those of worthy ministers in earlier times. As recorded in this book, they showed the mutual deference of Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui. The accounts in the Shui Dong Journal reveal the strategy by which Chen Ping and Zhou Bo secretly assisted the ruler. Their conduct as described in collected writings also reflects the principles by which Han Qi and Fan Zhongyan conducted themselves. They were able to escape adversity, rise to prominence, and achieve great things—truly intelligent men! Their story has been recorded here.”

Chen Xuan, the Earl of Pingjiang, was a man of great strategic ability. When the Jingnan army (the forces Zhu Di, the future Ming Chengzu, raised to seize the throne) reached the north bank of the Yangtze, Chen Xuan believed that the Mandate of Heaven had already found its rightful holder. He therefore led his naval forces to welcome the army and ferry it across, for which he was enfeoffed as the Earl of Pingjiang. At the time, the Beijing army had insufficient grain reserves, so the court ordered him to oversee the annual transport of one million shi of grain by sea to supply it. He built the Million-Grain Granary at Yin’er Bay in Zhigu, then built a city and established Tianjin Guard, registering ten thousand soldiers to defend the grain-transport route. When the fleets passed the islands, the islanders all kept away in fear, daring not to show themselves. Chen Xuan led his troops…

He ordered that grain be brought to market for sale and sent officials to oversee the proceedings and stabilize prices, so that people would not dare to quarrel or cause disturbances. Once these two measures had been put in place, Beijing stopped receiving grain by sea. Zhou Gong proposed building two thousand shallow-draft boats. At first they transported two million shi of grain each year; later the amount rose to five million. He also dredged Qingjiangpu, channeling water from Guanjia Lake into Yachen Kou and then onward to the Huai River, thereby avoiding the dangers of wind and waves on the outer waterways. He built a dike stretching ten li along Guanjia Lake to make it easier to guide the water and navigate the boats.

He cleared the silted tidal harbors at Yizhen and Guazhou, and leveled the great rocks in two dangerous stretches of river at Luliang and Xuzhou to calm the current. He built long dikes at Diaoyang Lake in Pei County and Nanwang Lake in Jining, and dredged the Baita River in Taizhou so that it flowed into the Yangtze. He also built a dike at Gaoyou Lake and dug a canal forty li long inside it, allowing boats to travel between north and south; he built bridges as well to make passage easier for pedestrians. From the Huai River to Linqing, he built forty-seven locks according to the changing water levels at each location. They were opened and closed at the proper times so that all the boats could pass. These measures brought lasting benefits.

He also established 568 relay stations along the river, assigning towpath laborers at each one to clear shallow stretches. Wells were dug and trees planted along the dikes to aid travelers. He considered every matter thoroughly and, once he had made his plans, carried them out decisively.

The Hongdao lu comments: “I see that, at the time, north and south were not yet connected by a navigable route. Heaven therefore deliberately brought an extraordinary man into the world, sending him to the banks of the Yangtze. Even if people did not wish to employ him, how could the mountains and rivers do without him? Alas, at first he was ennobled for pacifying Pingjiang; in the end, he became renowned for helping the rivers flow—managing water transport and aiding the realm. The Book of Documents says, ‘If you would cross a great river, appoint you as the oar.’ These words are indeed true. After his death, he was enshrined and continually offered sacrifices and offerings. This, perhaps, was because of these achievements.”

Duke Wenxiang of Zhou, Zhou Chen, passed the jinshi examination at a young age and was selected as a shujishi, an official chosen for training and experience in the Hanlin Academy. At the time, Zeng Qi and twenty-seven others were also among those selected. Zhou Chen actively asked to join their studies. Emperor Taizong of Ming was pleased and said, “Here is a man with real ambition.” He therefore ordered that Zhou Chen be added to the group.

Later, Zhou Chen served successively as Vice Minister of Works and as governor of the Southern Capital region, the area around Nanjing under the Ming. He held the latter post for twenty-two years in all. Calm and quick-witted, he was resourceful and modest, and did not speak readily, but his plans were far-reaching. He was good at listening to others’ views. Before taking any action, he would first consult local elders and officials, then make his decision. He had an especially good memory. A troublemaking man had once been found guilty by him in several cases. When the man later came to make another complaint, Zhou Chen said, “I have already ruled on your case concerning such-and-such matter in such-and-such place. Why have you come to appeal again?” If officials concealed or falsified matters concerning grain taxes, Zhou Chen could always point out: “In such-and-such year, this much was allocated to such-and-such place…”

He kept the accounts on record and checked them item by item. The results proved exactly as he had said. The officials were astonished and impressed, believing he possessed abilities like those of a divine being.

At the time, Suzhou was in arrears on more than 7.9 million units of grain tax, and Songjiang faced the same problem. The court repeatedly sent officials to demand payment, but the matter remained unresolved. After taking office, Lord He asked local elders about the situation. They explained that in Suzhou and Songjiang, it was customary for wealthy households not to pay the “surcharge” added to the regular tax to cover losses in collection. As a result, poorer households were drawn into the shortfall and also fell behind on their grain taxes. He ordered households both large and small to pay the surcharge. The court approved his proposal to cast iron measuring vessels in Nanjing so that grain could be measured fairly in both collection and disbursement.

The old regulations prohibited setting up local collection stations for grain. Lord He said that this was precisely what had caused the arrears, and ordered each county to establish collection points by the water, appointing one person to oversee them, known as the “chief collector.” The surcharge was collected according to fixed quotas. After the amount needed for transport had been set aside, the remaining grain was stored in granaries and called “surplus grain.” The following year, the collection quota was adjusted upward or downward as required. If grain remained after transport was completed, each county built granaries called “Granaries for Aiding Farmers,” where the surplus was stored for use in relief.

Farmers who ran short of grain, and porters transporting it who were caught in storms or robbed, could borrow grain. After the autumn harvest, they repaid the government the amount borrowed. Expenses such as government textile production and military supplies were also paid from the stored surplus grain. In this way, beyond paying the regular tax of one shi each year, the people no longer felt troubled by corvée labor and miscellaneous levies, and the government no longer imposed repeated assessments and demands. County schools and shrines to worthy predecessors, as well as bridges and waterways throughout the prefectures, were repaired and cleared, with the costs all drawn from the surplus grain. The people vied to build him a shrine while he was alive; after his death, they commemorated him with ancestral rites.

Later, the Ministry of Revenue said that the surplus grain in the Granaries for Aiding Farmers had not been adequately audited. It memorialized the court to send subordinate officials to take all the stored grain into government custody. After that, collections and levies became tangled and burdensome, and arrears returned as before. The people therefore remembered Lord He all the more.

The Record comments: “When Wang Wengong spoke of Censor-in-Chief He Jian, he said: ‘Wealth comes from the land and is brought forth by the seasons, but how it is managed depends entirely on people. With sound governance, even scarce resources can become abundant; with poor governance, even abundant resources can become scarce. Whether wealth increases or decreases, grows or dwindles, depends on those who govern.’ A man like Wengxiang was a model of good governance, which is why people often took his methods as the standard for provincial governors. In the past, the prefectures of Jiangnan were often impoverished, both in public and private life. In recent years, however, harvests have been plentiful year after year, and grain has piled up like mountains. Has anyone ever looked into the reason? This is the result of human governance, not the will of Heaven…”

When Lord He (He Wenxiang) served as governor of Jiangnan, a severe famine struck the region. He submitted twelve measures for relief to the court and received permission to allocate more than 800,000 from funds including the grain stipends left in prefectural military offices and military supply reserves. As a result, ample reserves were established throughout the prefectures of Jiangnan.

At the time, officials discussed dredging the Wusong River and Baimao Harbor, but the project was shelved for lack of funds. Lord He requested that the reserves cover the costs of the work, military supplies, and other expenses. The project consumed 280,000 shi of grain without adding any burden to the people. Once it was complete, the southeast no longer suffered from flooding. Does this not show that good and bad harvests depend on more than the weather? Is this not what is meant by “turning scarcity into abundance”? He Wenxiang’s resourcefulness still gives us food for thought.

Kuang Zhong began as a minor clerk and once served Minister Lü Zhen. Lü recommended him for his ability, and Kuang was appointed secretary in the Ministry of Rites’ Office of Ceremonial Regulations; he was later promoted to director. Early in Emperor Renzong’s reign, the emperor ordered officials in the capital of fifth rank and above to recommend capable people they knew. Kuang Zhong recommended Zhang Zonglian, an official in the Left Spring Quarter.

Emperor Renzong summoned Kuang Zhong and asked Yang Shiqi, “Others have recommended lower-ranking officials from commanderies and counties outside the capital. Why has Kuang Zhong recommended one of my palace officials?” Yang Shiqi replied, “Wang Zhi and I had also planned to recommend Zhang Zonglian. We did not expect Kuang Zhong to get there first.”

Emperor Renzong was delighted. “Kuang Zhong knows Zhang Zonglian well; that, too, shows his good judgment.” By then, the emperor was already considering appointing Kuang Zhong.

After Emperor Xuanzong took the throne, ministers reported that Suzhou was a large prefecture with complicated affairs and would be difficult to govern. Kuang Zhong was therefore promoted to prefect. On taking office, he immediately dismissed five subordinate officials who were greedy and abusive, along with more than ten who were incompetent and timid. He then worked with Inspector Zhou to devise a system for collecting grain.

During the Yongle era, grain had to be transported over long distances to Beijing. Suzhou Prefecture was originally assessed at 2.7 million shi of grain, but once transport costs were included, the amount actually collected rose to 8.1 million shi. After the required grain tax and boat hire had been paid, the grain left over was secretly withheld by the grain chiefs, local officials responsible for collecting and transporting it.

Kuang Zhong therefore proposed appointing separate grain heads to divide the grain chiefs’ power and reducing the previous assessment by one-third. Of what remained, half would cover transport costs, while the rest would be stored in the Jiinong Granary as reserves for the following year. From then on, the annual tens of thousands of shi of rice used for horse fodder, the tens of thousands of jin of cloth and silk paid in lieu of summer taxes, the tens of thousands of bolts of silk, and the tens of thousands of shi of wheat were all paid from the grain surplus. This grain also covered the purchase and provision of various extra expenses. In this way, the court’s collection deadlines were met without taking a single extra measure of grain from the people. When famine or drought struck, he immediately opened the granaries to provide relief. Every…

During his time in office, he saved hundreds of thousands of lives and brought immeasurable benefit to the poor.

When his nine-year term ended and he prepared to leave, people from across the prefecture gathered outside the government office, knocking on the gate and asking him to stay. More than eighty thousand people came. The court therefore appointed him to serve another term. Later, when he died of illness, the people vied with one another to build shrines in his honor and make offerings to him.

The Hongdao lu comments: Before this, the local custom around Suzhou and Songjiang was that wealthy households did not pay the extra levies. Is this perhaps the sort of thing that was meant? At the time, the court had a benevolent ruler like Emperor Renzong and a worthy minister like Wenxiang. His talents and good governance were like a feather borne aloft by a favorable wind, finding room to flourish. Without such circumstances, a low-ranking official seeking the court’s recommendation might well have been obstructed by the chancellor. And when a local official was asked to stay by more than eighty thousand people knocking at his gate, the court still heeded the people’s request. Such things would likely be hard to see again today. For this reason, I have recorded the matter.

Hongdao lu, juan 40