Chapter 33: Punishment Does Not Extend to the High Officials

Seven people stood in a neat row before Yuan Zonggao. This time, it was no longer a written test, but an oral interview.

Yuan Zonggao did not put on airs like Sui Gongyan by sitting down to drink tea; instead, he stood there, smiling warmly at the seven children. He appeared kind and approachable, yet there was always a subtle hint of calculation in his demeanor.

"You need not be nervous. I am not here to examine you, but to discuss scholarship with you. You are free to express your own opinions and speak your minds. There is no need to wait for your turn; just speak up whenever you have a thought."

Yuan Zonggao explained the rules of this session: there was no set order for answering, and the students were encouraged to speak freely. If they had no opinions, they could even remain silent throughout.

Zhu Hao thought to himself, *How do these rules resemble a modern-day debate competition?*

Yuan Zonggao continued, "While reading the *Book of Rites*, I chanced upon a passage: 'Rites do not extend to the common people, and punishments do not extend to the high officials.' I have been preoccupied with this for several days, finding myself conflicted. I wonder what your thoughts on this might be?"

The children finally realized what made the Prince’s study companion selection process so unique.

The question posed was essentially in the style of the imperial examinations, yet it differed; it did not require an eight-legged essay to argue the point, but merely asked them to "speak their minds." To Zhu Hao, this question was a "lethal trap."

"Who has an opinion? Speak."

Yuan Zonggao scanned the group, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Among the seven candidates, excluding Zhu Hao, no one understood why Yuan Zonggao would pose such a question. Even the previously arrogant Master Jing was lost in thought, clearly stumped.

Zhu Hao pondered briefly. The first assessment tested basic aptitude, the second tested historical knowledge and breadth of learning, and this third assessment clearly tested personal ambition.

The Prince of Xing’s examination was indeed a series of interconnected layers.

As it turned out, they were not simply looking for a playmate for the young prince, but were meticulously selecting a mentor and friend who could provide assistance in the imperial court in the future.

What was the greatest problem during the Zhengde era of the Great Ming?

The collapse of law and order!

When those at the top go astray, those below follow suit.

The Emperor acted recklessly. First came Liu Jin, then Qian Ning, Xu Tai, Jiang Bin, and others—a group of sycophants wreaking havoc in the court. Meanwhile, local officials, eager to curry favor with the Emperor and the corrupt, exhausted the people and drained the treasury, undermining the very foundations of the Ming Dynasty.

Did Zhu Houzhao have talent? Perhaps.

But when you act so recklessly, hoping to be molded into a wise and holy monarch—unless your children or grandchildren become emperors who rule with diligence and restore the Ming, the world will never credit you with success. And the problem is, not only are you reckless, you do not even have an heir. With the throne destined for another branch of the family, you still want others to remember you fondly?

Keep dreaming!

Zhu Hao understood that the Prince of Xing, as a royal relative with designs on the throne, had already been reflecting on the chaos of the Zhengde court. This question was specifically designed to test the candidates' views on the political disorder, albeit in a veiled manner.

Furthermore, Zhu Hao had gathered from Sui Gongyan’s earlier mention of Legalism that the old Prince of Xing, Zhu Youyuan, held a particular attitude toward the Hundred Schools of Thought. If this question followed the logic of the Legalists, falling for the "punishments do not extend to high officials" trap would be disastrous.

...

Yuan Zonggao waited for a while, but no one stepped forward.

Although these candidates were young, they were shrewd. They understood the principle that the nail that sticks out gets hammered down; it was better to let someone else go first to gauge the examiner's reaction before deciding on their own stance.

"What, is this question too difficult?"

Yuan Zonggao frowned slightly. "In truth, I only want you to share your own interpretations. Even if you are wrong, as long as there is substance to your words, it is worthy of praise."

The room remained deathly silent.

Zhu Hao stepped out from the crowd.

Yuan Zonggao looked at him with a kindly smile and nodded, likely satisfied with Zhu Hao's courage to be the first.

A clerk at his side whispered, "Master Yuan, he answered all six historical questions from Instructor Sui correctly."

"Is that so?"

Yuan Zonggao nodded again, his smile widening. "At such a young age, to be so well-versed in Chinese history—he will surely achieve great things in the future."

Zhu Hao bowed, expressing his gratitude for the elder's praise.

The clerk prompted him, "Whatever thoughts you have, just say them."

Zhu Hao began, "I have a question for Master Yuan: what exactly defines a 'high official' (shi dafu)?"

His words were startling.

What is a high official?

Even Yuan Zonggao, who had been full of anticipation, felt his expression sour upon hearing this question. *Is this really the same boy who answered all six history questions correctly?*

The clerk, who had strongly recommended Zhu Hao earlier, now felt humiliated and hurriedly said, "Are you here to answer the question or to ask one?"

The boys behind Zhu Hao covered their mouths to hide their smirks, privately pleased that they had made the smart choice by not standing out to embarrass themselves. As long as Zhu Hao made a fool of himself first, they wouldn't feel awkward even if their own answers were wrong.

Zhu Hao continued, "A gentleman (junzi) in court can be called a high official, but if a villain (xiaoren) is in court, can he still be called a high official?"

As these words fell, not only Yuan Zonggao but even the clerk was stunned.

This was far sharper than the question Yuan Zonggao had posed. Instead of arguing about whether officials should be treated favorably because they are well-read in the classics, he attacked the definition of "gentleman" versus "villain." At first glance, it seemed narrow and binary, but considering the reality of the corrupt officials dominating the Ming court, Zhu Hao’s words, while brash, were perfectly on point as a critique of current affairs.

Yuan Zonggao nodded slightly. "Since you ask, I shall share my own view: if a villain is in court, contradicting the tenets of Confucianism, he naturally cannot be counted as a high official." As the chief examiner, he was actually discussing the definition of a villain with a child.

However, this perfectly matched Yuan Zonggao’s requirement for the exercise: self-directed discussion with no single "correct" answer, where both sides could be argued freely.

Just as everyone expected Zhu Hao to make some shocking conclusion after hearing Yuan Zonggao’s answer, he bowed deeply, retreated into the ranks, and said nothing more.

The clerk was surprised. "Young master, now that you know what a high official is, why not share your own perspective?"

Zhu Hao replied politely, "I have already answered. Since a villain is not a high official, the saying that 'punishments do not extend to high officials' is biased. As for the specifics... I would like to hear the opinions of the other candidates."

The implication was: *I’ve started the discussion; surely I shouldn't be the only one doing the talking? Shouldn't we hear what others think?*

...

Zhu Hao had thrown the brick to attract the jade and then retreated without further argument. Yuan Zonggao glanced at him and shook his head slightly, seemingly left wanting more.

Zhu Hao stood silently, secretly chuckling to himself.

*This is called whetting the appetite.*

*I’ve piqued your interest, and you want to know my profound insights? You’ll have to wash your ears and listen to the 'dross' of the others first!*

*Your attention will remain on me, and since you said we could speak freely, I can argue however I please.*

*Only with a comparison will you realize my true brilliance.*

"Do the other candidates have any opinions?" the clerk urged.

Master Jing felt immense pressure. For his age, being able to recite two or three of the Four Books and Five Classics was impressive, but he had never studied the deeper meanings of the scriptures. Still, he would not admit defeat easily.

Master Jing stepped out and bowed. "The gentleman understands righteousness; the villain understands profit..."

He paused, stuck.

"And?" Yuan Zonggao pressed.

This line was an extension of Zhu Hao's point, but he lacked the capacity to dig deeper. After squeezing out that one sentence, he could say no more.

After a long silence, Master Jing shifted his line of reasoning: "'Rites do not extend to the common people' means that for ordinary folks, one cannot demand perfect adherence to the rites, or rather, the common people cannot grasp such complex rituals..."

It was merely an explanation, not an argument.

Even so, it was better than the other candidates who remained silent. Yuan Zonggao gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod, but his expression remained calm. It was clear he had hoped for a debate on the latter half of the quote, "punishments do not extend to high officials," but Master Jing could not develop the topic.

After Master Jing retreated, no one came forward for a long time.

Zhu Hao realized that the only one who could truly compete with him was Master Jing; the other five were too weak. In this type of divergent, boundaryless debate, they had no chance to shine.

"I have an opinion."

Zhu Hao stepped out again.

Yuan Zonggao’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Speak."

Zhu Hao said, "I have heard that 'when the law fails, it is because those at the top violate it.' To prevent the lower ranks from imitating the vices of the upper, the most important thing is to ensure that the law is implemented from the top down, not the other way around."

"Oh?"

Yuan Zonggao seemed surprised, squinting as he scrutinized Zhu Hao.

Zhu Hao scoffed inwardly, knowing the old man was putting on an act, and continued his argument: "If punishments do not extend to high officials, the nation cannot be stable, and the people cannot be civilized. 'When governing a gentleman, one must control his heart, so as to sharpen his sense of shame.' If a high official knows no shame, he cannot even be called a gentleman, let alone a high official. My conclusion: the prince, when violating the law, should be punished the same as the commoner."

Zhu Hao’s words were powerful and resonant.

The final sentence, "The prince, when violating the law, should be punished the same as the commoner," was particularly deafening. While there had been similar sentiments throughout history, Zhu Hao was the first to summarize it so concisely.

Yuan Zonggao smiled. "The prince should be punished the same as the commoner? Are you saying that if the young prince in this manor were to violate the law, he should be punished the same as a commoner on the street?"

"Yes."

Zhu Hao did not evade the question.

The other candidates, who had been directionless, were suddenly energized by Zhu Hao's words.

The eldest among them stepped forward and barked, "How could the prince’s violation of the law be the same as a commoner's? By your logic, the prince is no different from a beggar on the street? You are fear-mongering! 'Punishments do not extend to high officials' is the wisdom of the sages; how dare you dismiss it as a reckless argument?"

Zhu Hao replied calmly, "It is merely one man’s opinion. You don't have to believe it, but I must speak my mind. You have your own views, so state them! I will not stop you!"

After saying this, Zhu Hao retreated and stood solemnly, prepared to be a quiet listener.