[I became a descendant of Li Jinglong, the Duke of the State of Ming]“Plant bamboo in the courtyard, and its shade will shelter the dynasty.” This prophecy reached the emperor’s ears, and Jiajing believed it without a doubt.
This was a flourishing dynasty. From the early Ming’s sweeping conquests to its gradual decline after the Tumu Crisis, it could still reclaim “three thousand li of Joseon’s mountains and rivers” two centuries after its founding. No unified dynasty since Qin Shi Huang first brought the six kingdoms under one rule had possessed such power two hundred years after its founding. Then the great edifice came crashing down, leaving many people with regrets.
History has never been just words on a page. Every person was flesh and blood, and none should be judged through the rigid, cold lens of modern opinion.
By the Jiajing era, old problems had already piled up. “A wise ruler on the throne, ruthless ministers filling the court”: there was still time to turn things around.
Starting with a barrel of moldy army rations, he upended the Beijing garrison and cut off the Nine Frontiers’ source of funds. The civil officials hated him, and the generals feared him.
In fifty years, he would pacify the Japanese pirates, bring the Mongols to heel, and stop the Jurchens before they could rise.
