Chapter 30: The Imperial Bestowed Genuine "Matchless Under Heaven"

The reward bestowed by Li Longji caused an uproar among the officials, and even Pei Min was quite surprised.

Although the immediate superior of a Palace Attendant Historian is the Vice-Director of the Censorial Court, and the two positions seem to be separated by only a single rank, that single rank represents a substantial leap forward. To make a comparison, the Palace Attendant Historian merely controlled the Central Bureau within the Censorial Court, whereas the Vice-Director of the Censorial Court oversaw the affairs of all three bureaus—the Central Bureau, the Investigating Bureau, and the Palace Bureau. He was the undisputed second-in-command of the Censorial Court, and his authority was elevated by far more than twofold. As for his status, it went without saying. If a Palace Attendant Historian belonged to the managerial level, then the Vice-Director of the Censorial Court was at the leadership level. The Vice-Director of the Censorial Court was eligible for promotion to chancellor. The Tang Dynasty operated under a multi-chancellor system; as long as the Emperor had the intention to promote one to the post of chancellor and bestowed the title of "Manager of Affairs under the Zhongshu and Menxia Provinces," that person became a chancellor of the realm. Vice-Director of the Censorial Court Zhou Yunyuan and Acting Vice-Director of the Censorial Court Ji Xu were both elevated to chancellorships directly from the position of Vice-Director of the Censorial Court.

Regardless of whether one looked at authority or status, the difference between the two could not be measured by ordinary logic.

As the officials looked at Pei Min, they all felt a touch of envy. Being enfeoffed as a marquis or appointed as a chancellor was the ultimate dream of every official. Relying on his merit in supporting the imperial ascension, Pei Min had attained the status of a state duke at a tender age, which already made people's mouths water with jealousy, and now he had secured such a formidable office as Vice-Director of the Censorial Court. One could easily imagine that, at most in ten years, should Li Longji's favor remain unchanged, Pei Min would become the youngest chancellor of a different surname in history.

Yet they also knew that Pei Min had not earned all this without reason. Just like Li Longji's elimination of Empress Wei and Zong Chuke, and his eradication of the remnants of the Wei and Wu clans to secure the position of crown prince, there were hard facts and achievements laid out before their eyes. They had to admit that this young man, not yet of weak capping age, was truly brilliantly talented and stunningly peerless. Only a few individuals felt that Li Longji's reward was excessively heavy and harbored secret resentment.

Pei Min was just about to step back when Li Longji called out to him, saying, "Lord Pei, I also received your memorial yesterday. I could not have imagined that the scourge of Buddhism could be so grave. Tell the senior ministers about your discoveries yesterday... This matter is of paramount importance and cannot be treated lightly."

Pei Min nodded and said, "Buddhism flourished and developed during the Southern and Northern Dynasties. According to the Northern Wei text *A Record of Buddhist Monasteries in Luoyang*, at the height of its prosperity, the city of Luoyang contained over one thousand three hundred temples, with monks and nuns numbering in the hundreds of thousands. Jianye in the south also boasted hundreds of Buddhist temples. It was precisely because of this pervasive prevalence that two separate campaigns for the eradication of Buddhism occurred. Among them, Emperor Taiwu of Northern Wei, Tuoba Tao, intended to unify the north, and the state policy was to make every citizen a soldier. However, the exemption of monks and nuns from taxes and corvée labor shook the foundations of Northern Wei, running counter to the ambitions of Tuoba Tao, who was eager for military exploits."

"As for the suppression of Buddhism by Emperor Wu of Northern Zhou, it demonstrated even more clearly the calamity of Buddhism... At that time, because Northern Zhou's founding emperor, Emperor Xiaomin Yuwen Jue, and Emperor Ming Yuwen Yu were devout Buddhists, Buddhism flourished indefinitely within its borders, and the number of monks and nuns in the realm exceeded three million. This meant that there were over three million laborers who performed no service and paid no taxes; the resulting damage can be easily imagined. The development of a state cannot do without corvée labor. Without corvée labor, it means there are no sources of troops, no one to build bridges and repair roads, no one to dredge blocked rivers, no one to reclaim wasteland, and no one to construct water conservancy projects... Excessively heavy corvée labor is a disaster for the people, but the complete absence of corvée labor plunges the realm into great chaos. Corvée labor is the foundation of the state... Monks and nuns undermining corvée labor is equivalent to shaking the foundation of the state, and the rationale behind the two campaigns to eradicate Buddhism lies precisely here."

"In former years, when Empress Wu held power, she condoned the unrestrained development of Buddhism, to the extent that today Buddhism is ubiquitous throughout Chang'an. Countless individuals unwilling to engage in production or pay taxes have resorted to various means to become monks and nuns. According to statistics, the number of monks and nuns in Chang'an alone has reached forty thousand, half of whom are opportunistic elements, seriously endangering the state's livelihood. If Chang'an is like this, how much more so the rest of the realm? A preliminary estimate suggests that monks and nuns across the empire have long surpassed one million, and the resulting tax losses amount to no less than ten million guan. The mistakes of the former cart are the lessons for the latter chariot. Therefore, your subject proposes to strictly regulate Buddhism, weed out and purge monks and nuns, and dismantle unnecessary temples so as to recover the losses of our Great Tang."

Facing the assembled officials without a trace of fear, Pei Min compared his investigations with historical events, clarifying the critical stakes and consequences one by one.

Most of the civil and military officials in the court were belatedly awakened; they were not believers and knew very little about religious affairs.

Hearing Pei Min speak of this, they learned for the first time that Chang'an harbored such a vast number of monks and nuns, and they could not help but whisper to one another in hushed discussions.

"Vice-Director Pei, do not sensationalize and alarm the public!" At that moment, a voice of opposition rang out from within the hall.

Pei Min traced the sound and saw that it was Wang Shouyi, Vice-Minister of the Palace Bureau. Wang Shouyi was an imperial son-in-law of the Great Tang and also a relative of the imperial family; his younger sister was none other than Empress Li Longji. Wang Shouyi was one of the rare Buddhist believers in the court. Among the nobility and relatives of the emperor, competing to build Buddhist temples had become a social trend, and Pei Min's proposal to dismantle temples directly touched upon his taboo.

Wang Shouyi said, "Your Majesty, Vice-Director Pei's words are deeply disrespectful. Matters concerning deities and Buddhas should neither be believed in too deeply nor entirely dismissed. Perhaps, as the Vice-Director says, monks and nuns are currently overflowing, and we need only weed them out and purge the redundant ones. To strictly regulate Buddhism and demolish temples is to show profound disrespect toward the Buddha, which I fear will invite heavenly retribution."

Pei Min raised an eyebrow. Regarding gods and Buddhas, he had originally not believed in them at all, but having inexplicably time-traveled to this era with his soul swapped with Pei Min's, he held a trace of hesitation in his heart toward deities. Yet, recalling the research materials from yesterday and the perils of Buddhism in later generations, he spoke in a resonant voice: "Fotudeng and Kumarajiva were hailed as eminent monks whose names shook the world and who commanded tens of thousands of believers, yet they could not save the Later Zhao and Later秦 dynasties from destruction. Emperor Shizong of Qi and Emperor Wu of Liang devoutly believed in Buddhism, yet they could not escape calamity. The teachings of the Buddha also state that saving a single human life is superior to building a seven-tiered pagoda; as long as Your Majesty ensures that the common people live and work in peace, that in itself is the greatest of merits. If the gods and Buddhas truly possessed merciful hearts, how could they blame Your Majesty?"

Seated high upon the dais, Li Longji declared with awe-inspiring righteousness, "As long as our Great Tang prospers, I am willing to suffer every hardship, and I will regret nothing."

As soon as these words left his mouth, the assembled officials were deeply moved. They also recognized that reforming religion had become an absolute necessity. One after another, they offered flattery and praise, making Li Longji's imperial image tower to unprecedented heights.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Li Longji held consultations, and on that very day, the Secretariat issued an official decree governing religion: all prefectures and counties were to limit the number of temples and restrict the number of monks and nuns. A screening and elimination process was launched for monks and nuns across the empire, far more rigorous than the original ten requirements. Particularly severe punishments were meted out to wealthy households and able-bodied men who attempted to evade taxes. After this decree and system were implemented, Chang'an, the imperial capital, was the first to enforce it. With the demolition of several temples in Chang'an, the surplus funds of the temples were made public. A single inconspicuous temple unexpectedly possessed a fortune of over five hundred thousand guan. The wealth of the monks and nuns could thus be clearly seen. Only then did the officials realize how vital Pei Min's remonstrance had been. Consequently, the government orders were truly put into effect: throughout the country, more than forty-two thousand monks and nuns were ordered to return to secular life due to fraud, a total of thirty million guan in evaded taxes was recovered, and over fifty-six thousand redundant monks and nuns were dismissed. This greatly curbed the development of Buddhism and reduced the hazards brought by Buddhism to the absolute minimum.

Of course, all of this was a matter for the future.

Following the cases of Ren Lin and Ruan Song, the image of the Censorial Court underwent another transformation. The civil and military officials developed a newfound acceptance of Pei Min's impeachment system, and a greater sense of vigilance arose in their hearts, deterring them from casually breaking the laws and regulations. This was the true meaning of the Censorial Court's existence—to serve as a warning rather than mere punishment...

Upon returning to the Censorial Court, Pei Min was greeted with congratulations from his colleagues. Because the Censorial Court had once produced the notorious cruel official Lai Junchen, it had always been feared and despised by the world. Yet Pei Min had served in the Censorial Court for less than a full month, and he had already managed to alter the world's perception of the institution, allowing them to hold their heads high and conduct themselves without walking on eggshells for fear of being pointed at by the populace. Therefore, regarding Pei Min's promotion, no one in the Censorial Court held any grievances.

The duties of the Vice-Director of the Censorial Court were much lighter than those of the Palace Attendant Historian. This was because the Palace Attendant Historian was an executive manager, whereas the Vice-Director was a leader. Although they oversaw two additional departments, the truly tedious matters were handled by the Palace Attendant Historian, the Palace Censor, and the Investigating Censor. As leaders, they only needed to supervise and inquire.

Originally, the tasks of the Censorial Court were not heavy, and now, having ascended to the post of Vice-Director, Pei Min found his hands even more leisurely.

Thinking that his mother would soon arrive, Pei Min simply requested official leave for himself, intending to travel far outside Chang'an to welcome her.

Early that morning, Pei Min was practicing his swordplay in the courtyard. Recently, he had been constantly busy with affairs at the Censorial Court. Although he had not abandoned his martial arts and squeezed out a little time every day to practice, he had not devoted himself to bitter cultivation with genuine effort. As a result, there had been no progress in his swordsmanship. Now that things had quieted down, he decided to brush up on his martial arts.

After practicing for a full two hours, he finally stopped, though his expression was somewhat gloomy and dissatisfied.

The sword path that Pei Min walked differed from that of ordinary people. An ordinary person's swordsmanship focused on specialization—concentrating on studying one's own sword techniques, forging them through years of bitter practice, and sharpening them into an edge through actual combat. In contrast, his sword path was based on absorption. He possessed an extraordinary talent for swordsmanship, remembering sword forms at a glance. He excelled at studying other people's swords and evolving them into his own, continuously elevating his strength through continuous learning and evolution. Therefore, every time he fought against an opponent, his strength would receive a certain boost, whereas practicing bitterly by himself made his progress slow instead.

Yet now, holding a high position and being a state duke of the realm, running all over Chang'an to find people for sparring seemed somewhat inappropriate! But without opponents to spar with and relying solely on solo practice, he was taking a detour that did not belong to him, leaving him temporarily at a loss.

After taking a cold bath to wash away the sweat, Pei Min temporarily cast aside the distracting thoughts in his mind and rode out on horseback.

He was going to meet his mother. Even if he waited in Chang'an, his mother would arrive all the same. However, without riding out of the city to welcome her, he could not adequately express the excitement and anticipation in his heart.

Passing through the gates of Chang'an city, Pei Min followed the official road eastward all the way.

After traveling more than twenty miles and leaving the outskirts of Chang'an, he unexpectedly saw over a hundred travelers gathered together not far away, as if something had happened.

Curiosity was human nature, and Pei Min could not help but draw closer.

Upon closer inspection, he could not help but smile with amusement: it turned out to be a jianghu swordsman entangling another person in a sparring match.

A young swordsman holding a willow-leaf saber shouted, "Wu Yuan, you are hailed as the fastest saber-swinger of the younger generation, and I also follow the path of the swift saber. I refuse to accept you as number one! Today, no matter what, you must fight three hundred rounds with me so the world knows that my saber is faster than your Wu family's swift saber!" Martial arts flourished fiercely in Guanzhong, and such jianghu duels were commonplace. The surrounding travelers also began shouting and cheering them on.

Watching the two of them, a thought suddenly stirred in Pei Min's mind. He slapped his hands together and cursed himself for being a fool: "That's right, how stupid of me! Why should I go looking for others when I can make others come looking for me? Compared to the idle boasting in the jianghu, I hold a officially bestowed title of peerless under heaven!"