The most talked-about book among officials recently was *Min Gui* (literally: “Officials’ Guidelines”), written by Left Prime Minister Wu Mei.
Left Prime Minister was essentially the Chancellor. The Tang Dynasty had a system of “collective chancellorship” (群相制), where officials from the Ministries of Personnel, of Finance, and of the Secretariat, etc., all qualified to participate in the small council reserved for high-ranking officials, which was equivalent to being a Chancellor. Among them, the Left Prime Minister held the most actual power.
Wu Mei had served in the court for thirty years, working in various positions across the empire. She had extensive experience in local governance and left behind countless stories of diligence and caring for the people. She had risen to her current position through hard work, much more than male officials. She had encountered many setbacks along the way, but even when she was assigned to the dangerous Anbei Protectorate, she never hesitated.
After Crown Prince Li Chengqian ascended the throne, he accepted Prince Tang’s Li Yuanying’s suggestion to recruit talented individuals widely, regardless of gender or social status. As long as they passed the examinations and possessed integrity, they could participate in the civil service exams.
The content of the examinations also underwent significant changes. Besides the traditional exams on poetry, prose, essays, and policy proposals, they also introduced exams on specialized skills. Craftsmen were no longer confined to hereditary low-ranking statuses. They could now take examinations to achieve higher social standing. Those who excelled or made significant contributions could receive corresponding rewards.
Maidens, servants, and entertainers were no longer considered as belonging to a low-ranking social class. A system of employment was implemented instead, where employers and employees signed contracts. The contract duration could not exceed ten years. Lifetime contracts for servitude were no longer legal. If an employer dared to deceive someone into signing a lifetime contract, the servant could sue the employer in court.
The children of these people could also follow the government’s arrangements to reclaim wasteland for farming or study literacy and skills for a living.
Many people found this inconvenient, but the new emperor had just ascended the throne, so some face must be given.
Anyway, nobody would idle away their time mistreating or beating servants, and it wouldn’t make much difference if the contract was for ten years or a lifetime. If a servant worked for ten or eight years and didn’t want to continue, they could simply hire a new batch of young and strong ones, it wouldn’t be much different. The trustworthy managers and hereditary servants, even without contracts, wouldn’t betray their employers. They weren’t tired of their good lives and wanted to go out and suffer for themselves!
However, this wasn’t good news for many scholars. They now had to compete with peasants in the civil service exams, and they might even have to share the examination hall with the children of merchants, craftsmen, or servants and entertainers!
There were many who were dissatisfied with the government’s decision. Any tavern or teahouse you entered, you would hear countless complaints, with some even saying they would boycott the exams and no longer serve such a chaotic court.
However, not everyone would bet their future on anger. At least, the generation who grew up reading books in their hometown libraries and newspapers, they strongly agreed with the government’s policy.
There are also villains and scum among officials. But among those who slaughter dogs and pigs, or serve as servants, are there not also loyal, intelligent individuals? Some of the articles they find compelling are actually written by female entertainers!
Life on Earth is merely a few decades long. If you constantly focus on the flaws of others and ignore their merits, even if you live a life of luxury and comfort, you would still be a rich and foolish fool. What’s the point of coming into this world?!
No matter how much debate there was in the court and society, these decisions eventually went into effect. The lines between the four classes (士農工商: scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants) were no longer clearly defined. Every industry was bursting with incredible energy and vitality, and each year, many talented individuals emerged.
Time flew by. Wu Mei, drawing on years of experience as a local magistrate, entered the court. She first became the Minister of Personnel, selecting and assigning talented individuals without a single misstep. Those she recommended all achieved remarkable performance in their positions, and she had many insightful observations in court meetings, always able to anticipate events.
Over time, many officials got used to asking for her opinion whenever they encountered a problem. Even if Li Chengqian didn’t grant her the position of Left Prime Minister, she had already become a de facto Chancellor.
At the beginning of this year, Li Chengqian, despite strong opposition, promoted Wu Mei to Left Prime Minister, making her the highest-ranking official in the court, a moment of great honor.
Wu Mei was only in her forties, far from reaching her fifties, yet she had already achieved a position that countless men could only dream of in their lifetime.
Wu Mei was first recognized for her “blundering king’s loss of beauty” incident, but now her name was known throughout the empire for her abilities and status, becoming a model for women everywhere. After becoming Left Prime Minister, she didn’t do anything else, unlike what many people imagined, such as securing benefits for her family or for the Prince Tang’s faction. Instead, she focused on writing during her free time, producing a book called *Min Gui*.
*Min Gui*, as its name suggests, is about how officials and scholars should conduct themselves, being loyal to the emperor above and serving the people below.
In the book, Wu Mei summarized her many years of experience in local governance, starting with the administration of a county and going all the way to the governance of the entire empire. The book contains countless lessons and insights that could be learned and applied.
Li Chengqian read it through the night and, the next day, declared that it was a must-read for all officials in the empire. He ordered copies to be printed and distributed to officials at all levels so they could study the useful advice within. He also announced that this aspect would be included in the year-end performance evaluations, with those failing to meet the requirements being sent to unimportant positions for retirement, while those who excelled would be assigned to promising positions.
All of a sudden, a craze for studying *Min Gui* swept through the court and society.
On the other hand, what gave Li Chengqian a headache was the *Di Fan* (literally: “Emperor’s Model”) written by the Taishang Huang (literally: “The Supreme Emperor”). Since it was called *Di Fan*, it was obviously written for the emperor. The Taishang Huang wrote a whole book full of advice for him, totaling over 500 pages. Li Chengqian couldn’t avoid reading it; he was, after all, a dutiful son.
Li Chengqian had to temporarily become a dedicated student, diligently reading every night after dealing with state affairs, striving to finish the *Di Fan* written by the Taishang Huang himself as soon as possible.
Human energy is limited. As Li Chengqian stayed up late reading, he inevitably became drowsy during the day.
Wu Mei quickly noticed the change and, after asking the reason, stormed into the Daming Palace to demand an audience with Emperor Li.
Emperor Li had retired from court affairs, occasionally giving lectures at the kindergarten on the topic of “My Years as Emperor,” or else fishing in the Taiye Pool.
For example, right now, Emperor Li was fishing by the Taiye Pool with a bunch of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Hearing that the Left Prime Minister had arrived, Emperor Li was a little curious. He wondered why Wu Mei would come to see him.
Wu Mei, after paying her respects to Emperor Li in a proper manner, began to unleash her criticism. She argued that he shouldn’t have made *Di Fan* so long and unfocused, taking up too much of Li Chengqian’s time.
Emperor Li was furious. “You can write *Min Gui*, but I can’t write *Di Fan*?”
He was particularly upset and refused to eat dinner.
Li Chengqian, hearing that Emperor Li was not eating, hurried to the dining room to keep him company. He pleaded and persuaded, even deploying the adorable little granddaughter, a powerful weapon, before Emperor Li reluctantly started eating. After finishing his meal, Emperor Li continued to complain to Li Chengqian about Wu Mei: He believed that Wu Mei was not a capable Left Prime Minister, lacking respect for him as the Taishang Huang. He asked Li Chengqian, “Is what I wrote for you not good?”
This was a question that could easily lead to a fatal outcome.
Li Chengqian immediately replied, “Father, you wrote excellently! If it weren’t good, how could I stay up late reading it?”
However, he had probably been so accustomed to giving lectures at the kindergarten that even the serious, earnest advice in the *Di Fan* for his son was written in the style of “My Years as Emperor.” He would brag endlessly, filling ten thousand words. He was afraid that if Emperor Li asked him about the book later, he wouldn’t be able to answer and would have to read it word for word, understanding every single word.
Fortunately, his efforts weren’t in vain. Li Chengqian now put this knowledge to use, quoting passages from the book eloquently and sharing his insights to prove his honesty.
Emperor Li was delighted and felt his son was very good. Wu Mei clearly had no taste. He nodded in satisfaction, “Not bad. You like it.” Emperor Li was no longer angry and even agreed with Wu Mei’s words. After all, Li Chengqian was now the emperor and couldn’t be distracted from his duties by reading a book written by him. Emperor Li said, “You don’t need to rush to finish it. Read it slowly, and don’t strain your eyes.”
Seeing the storm pass, Li Chengqian finally relaxed.
The older people get, the more childlike they become, just like Emperor Li. He needed to be coaxed about many things. Thanks to spending a lot of time with Li Yuanying before ascending the throne, Li Chengqian now had a knack for comforting both children and old children: no matter what, start with a compliment!
The next day, Li Chengqian confided in Wu Mei about how to coax Emperor Li, asking her to stop picking on him for such minor things. He was afraid that Emperor Li would refuse to eat again.
Li Chengqian, as the emperor, had to be dutiful to the Taishang Huang. Naturally, Wu Mei agreed. However, after returning home from work, she mentioned the matter to Di Renjie, saying that Emperor Li was becoming more childish with age. She couldn’t believe that he would resort to not eating just because she said a few words. She thought only their three-year-old granddaughter was into such childish games.
Di Renjie said, “The Taishang Huang has worked tirelessly for most of his life. Now that he’s old, he naturally wants his children and grandchildren to pamper him.” If you set aside his identity as emperor, Emperor Li was just a very ordinary old man. Speaking of Emperor Li, the old child, Di Renjie also thought of Li Yuanying, “I wonder where Prince Tang and his wife are now.”
Li Yuanying had gone on several group trips, but he found them boring. Seeing his sons grow into adults, he left a note and went on a trip with his wife. He would do this from time to time, and everyone was already numb to it, even the new emperor could only helplessly let him go.
Wu Mei said, “He won’t be able to hold it in for long before writing to us.” Every time Li Yuanying went on a trip, he would tell everyone not to tell anyone, but then, he would inevitably show off something fun and be caught by Li Chengqian, who would send people to bring him back!
Di Renjie knew she was right and was relieved.
He and Wu Mei were brought together by Li Yuanying. When he mustered the courage to propose to Wu Mei, Li Yuanying secretly played a role in making things go smoothly. Otherwise, he and Wu Mei would never have been able to be together so easily.
“It’s good that you’re back. I wanted to ask you to take a look at this draft.” Di Renjie felt that since Wu Mei had published a book, he couldn’t fall behind and had to follow in his wife’s footsteps! He explained to Wu Mei, “These are some cases I encountered in the Ministry of Justice. Take a look and tell me if it’s okay. If it is, I’ll continue writing.”
Wu Mei took the draft and smiled, “Sure.”
By the end of the year, *Di Gong An* (literally: “Justice Di’s Cases”) replaced *Min Gui* as the hot topic and bestseller in the court and society. After all, *Min Gui* was just a textbook for the Tang dynasty civil service year-end performance evaluation. It was read more out of obligation than interest, and many officials grimaced at its mention. *Di Gong An* was different. The cases within were suspenseful, exciting, and full of twists and turns. Whether it was high-ranking officials or common folk, they could discuss it with relish, naturally propelling it to the top of the Chang’an book sales chart.
Even Li Yuanying, who had been enjoying himself with Wei Jiu outside, was brought back, rushing to Di Renjie and Wu Mei’s residence, covered in dust. He anxiously urged them, “What happened next? Why did you only write half of it? Hurry up and show me the rest!”
Author’s note:
The young prince: I’m back to urge you to write!
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