MLMD -Chapter 348 Everyone Stunned

At these words, the teahouse fell silent. Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a stout man in a long gown sitting at a nearby table, sneering at Hou Fangyu.

Hou Fangyu’s gaze fell on the man, and he couldn’t help but let out an angry laugh. He recognized him—back when Hou Fangyu, Chen Zhenhui, Mao Xiang, Fang Yizhi, and more than ten others had traveled through Hunyuan Prefecture, seeing how utterly different it was from the rest of the Ming Empire, seven or eight of them—including Chen Hui, Mao Xiang, and Fang Yizhi—decided to stay. This Tang Hu was one of them.

Seeing Tang Hu appear here suddenly made Hou Fangyu’s heart skip a beat, and he sneered: “Brother Tang, didn’t you already give up pursuing fame and fortune and resolve to follow that Yue Yang? How come you’ve come to the capital now? Could it be that you’ve suddenly awakened and decided to part ways with him?”

“Not at all, not at all!” Tang Hu replied with a cheerful smile. “I, Tang, am not talented, and I have now been appointed by Lord Hou as Deputy Director of the Shanxi Northern Circuit Finance Office. I’ve come here merely to pay taxes to the court. Seeing you passionately criticizing Lord Hou just now, I couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity.”

“The Finance Office?” Hou Fangyu’s eyes flickered with surprise, then he sneered coldly. “I’ve never heard of it. Brother Tang, you once held the title of Juren—a scholar of distinction—yet now you mingle daily with filthy lucre. Aren’t you afraid that the stench of coin clinging to you will make you unbearable?”

“Filthy lucre? The stench of coin?” Tang Hu paused, then began to laugh. His laughter grew louder and louder until he could barely straighten his rotund body, eventually collapsing forward onto the table in fits of laughter.

Though Tang Hu laughed heartily, Hou Fangyu’s expression grew increasingly sour. When Tang Hu’s laughter finally subsided, Hou Fangyu gloomily asked, “Brother Tang, I wonder what I said just now to amuse you so. Could it be that you disagree with my words?”

Tang Hu stopped laughing, struggling to sit up and catch his breath before bursting out again: “Brother Hou, I had thought you merely stubborn—but I was wrong. You are not merely stubborn—you are hypocritical!”

“Hypocritical!” Hou Fangyu’s face immediately turned ashen. Most of the scholars in the teahouse had come from various regions, and if Tang Hu continued speaking this way, Hou’s reputation would be ruined. In this era, where officials were judged by virtue, a scholar branded “hypocritical” risked ruining not only his reputation but also his career before it even began—no one would want to work with a hypocrite.

Gritting his teeth, Hou Fangyu said in a forbidding tone: “Tang Hu, you dare to ruin my reputation? If you do not provide an explanation today, I, Hou Fangyu, will not let this pass!”

“Oh…you’re still defiant!” Tang Hu said with a smirk. “Very well, then let me explain your hypocrisy.”

With that, Tang Hu stood, maneuvering his hefty frame in front of Hou Fangyu, a mocking smile on his face: “Brother Hou, you don’t believe me when I say you’re hypocritical? Fine, I’ll show you where your hypocrisy lies. Tell me—since you are a scholar, you must know the meaning of the four virtues: propriety, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame, right?”

“That’s enough!” Hou Fangyu roared, standing with eyes blazing like daggers. “Tang Hu, are you insulting me? First you call me hypocritical, now you claim I don’t understand propriety and righteousness—what exactly do you want?”

“I want nothing,” Tang Hu replied with a mocking smile. “You’re flustered now, aren’t you? Very well, let me ask: The Marquis of Loyalty and Courage, Hou, is a high-ranking, court-appointed noble of the Ming Empire. Even the ministers of the Six Boards and senior officials must pay him proper respect. And yet, you, Hou Fangyu, dare to address him by name? Moreover, the Khitans have repeatedly attacked the border, and only through the Marquis’ leadership of Ming soldiers has the populace remained safe. He even slew the rebel chief Yueto and brought the pseudo-emperor Huang Taiji to justice. Such feats are immense! Yet, in your mouth, his accomplishments become nothing, instead turned into a justification for feudal military authority. Where is the justice? Where is the righteousness? Where is the propriety? Even the ancients said that one must repay a drop of kindness with a gushing spring. And yet you, Hou Fangyu, have repeatedly slandered a benefactor who has served the country, showing ingratitude. Such a person is worse than animals—you disgrace the title of scholar!”

Tang Hu’s voice echoed throughout the teahouse. The hundreds of scholars upstairs listened intently, many visibly angered, yet none dared to argue—no matter how reluctant they were to admit it, Tang Hu’s words struck a nerve, for they were true. No matter how arrogant Yue Yang might be, he was an emperor-appointed marquis; the Ming ministers had endorsed him, and his status far exceeded theirs. Scholars could pride themselves on their learning and debate worldly affairs, but they could not change the fact that Yue Yang had achieved great merit for the state.

Hou Fangyu’s face turned from pale to red to dark, finally shouting: “Tang Hu, I will not argue with you. In any case, it is an indisputable fact that Yue Yang acted without imperial order in deploying troops, and if I point out that this resembles a feudal warlord’s behavior, I have done no wrong.”

The scholars upstairs shook their heads silently. Hou Fangyu was grasping at straws. Many generals ignored the court’s orders, not just Yue Yang. From Zu Dashou in Liaodong to Zuo Liangyu in the Central Plains, which of them did not leverage their military power to negotiate titles and promotions? Why, then, did Hou Fangyu single out Yue Yang? It was obvious.

Tang Hu sneered: “So you truly care for our Marquis, do you? I suppose in your eyes, only the generals who bow and scrape like lapdogs in front of scholars are worthy of respect?”

“You’re talking nonsense! I never said such a thing!” Hou Fangyu protested. Scholars might secretly despise generals, but to speak it aloud would offend every military officer in the empire—something he could never afford.

“Ha ha ha…” Tang Hu laughed, standing and casting his gaze toward the door. “Back in Hunyuan, the Marquis once said: today’s scholars can craft ornate writings but are useless for anything else—can neither lift nor carry, and ruling the state is beyond them. The only other thing they excel at is killing with their words!”

As Tang Hu’s figure disappeared, his words seemed to linger in the teahouse. The assembled scholars sat stunned, still digesting his speech.

News traveled fast in the capital. Within a day, Tang Hu’s words spread among the scholars traveling for the imperial exams. Opinions varied—some agreed, some scoffed—but none could deny one fact: Yue Yang had returned emboldened by his victories over the Qing, raising his prestige to new heights and unnerving many.

In the Forbidden City, the familiar palace awaited. Emperor Chongzhen sat on the dragon throne, his expression strange—part smile, part frown. On either side of him sat over a dozen ministers: Grand Secretary Wen Tiren, Second Secretary Yang Sichang, various other senior officials, and ministers of the Six Boards. Judging by the number and weight of the officials present, this could easily serve as a small court council.

Before Chongzhen lay a dispatch reporting Yue Yang’s exploits—already the talk of the court and capital. By rights, the emperor should have celebrated, issued a nationwide proclamation, and offered thanks at the ancestral temple. Yet Chongzhen felt none of that joy.

After a long pause, he lifted his eyelids and said weakly: “Ministers, you’ve all seen the dispatch. What do you have to say?”

Silence followed. What could they say? To call this a great victory would imply the court should officially reward Yue Yang—but Yue Yang’s disobedience complicated matters. The emperor feared Yue Yang’s growing power; the stronger he became, the less sleep Chongzhen got.

Grand Secretary Wen Tiren stepped forward with a sigh: “Your Majesty, the Marquis’ return is indeed a cause for celebration and warrants reward. But since he acted without orders, it violates court protocol. I believe we should first reprimand him, then console him mildly.”

Yang Sichang rolled his eyes, exuding disdain. Chongzhen furrowed his brows, thinking: Is this really the level of the Ming’s Grand Secretary? His words are meaningless. If Yue Yang were that easy to handle, he wouldn’t be Yue Yang.

Sure enough, a man in a vermillion robe, newly appointed Minister of Personnel Tian Weijia, spoke: “Your Majesty, I believe the Grand Secretary is mistaken. Though I have not met Yue Yang, I know him to be unyielding. Given Hong Chengchou’s previous actions, I do not believe Yue Yang will let him off easily. The court must prepare in advance.”

Chongzhen’s interest piqued: “And what do you think the court should do?”

Tian Weijia, brimming with confidence, replied: “Your Majesty, though Yue Yang defeated the Qing, he acted without orders. Such precedent must not be allowed to continue. I suggest we summon him to the capital, have the imperial cavalry detain him, and let the Censorate, Court of Judicial Review, and Ministry of Justice jointly interrogate him. The final decision—life or death—rests with Your Majesty. If merciful, strip his title and imprison him; if displeased, execute him, as with Yuan Chonghuan in the past…”

“Enough!” Chongzhen cut him off impatiently. He was already overwhelmed by Yue Yang’s exploits, and the court’s suggestions were only getting more absurd. This Tian Weijia really thought he could trick Yue Yang into coming to the capital and imprison him—had he been reading too many plays?

Yang Sichang, standing nearby, could no longer tolerate it. He coldly reprimanded: “Minister Tian, this is the imperial court, not your home. Cease your idle talk and step back!”

Tian Weijia, desperate to impress the emperor, refused. He sneered: “Minister Yang, do you intend to coerce me? Know that this is before the emperor and you cannot act recklessly!”

Yang Sichang merely smiled faintly and stepped back—he never quibbled with someone about to meet misfortune.

Chongzhen slammed the table: “Enough, Minister Tian! You embarrass yourself; I, the emperor, am embarrassed for you. Do you think Yue Yang is as foolish as you? He will not come to die for the sake of a court decree. Are you treating him like a fool, or me?”

Finally, Chongzhen turned his gaze to Yang Sichang. Over the years, Yang had gained the emperor’s trust, while Wen Tiren had fallen out of favor. Chongzhen considered replacing Wen with Yang if he could handle this matter well.

Yang Sichang hesitated, then said slowly: “Your Majesty, regardless of whether Yue Yang obeyed orders, his victory over the Khitans is indisputable. If the court fails to reward him, the populace will complain, questioning the fairness of court rewards. Those in the south will see no recognition even for defeating the enemy chief, discouraging service to the empire. Even generals in Liaodong will have reason to slacken. Therefore, I believe we must not only reward him—but reward him greatly.”

Wen Tiren coldly asked: “Minister Yang, when you say ‘greatly reward,’ how exactly do you propose to do so? We cannot make him a duke, can we?”

The emperor’s favor toward Yang Sichang was obvious, and Wen Tiren’s jealousy clear.

Yang Sichang looked at the emperor and replied carefully: “Your Majesty, first, I propose transferring Hong Chengchou to Huguang to suppress bandits, and recalling Lu Xiangsheng to Shanxi to serve as Governor of Xuan-Da!”

“What?”

At these words, everyone was stunned…