A Seasoned Scholar Returns to Public Service

At thirty-eight years old, Liu Bowen found himself at a crossroads. Approaching forty – an age when men traditionally reached their peak of energy, clarity, mind, and steady judgment – he received an unexpected invitation to serve as Deputy Director of Education (Confucian Vice-Commissioner) and Director of Admissions (Examination Official) for the Jiangzhe Province administration. This opportunity came through an unlikely connection – his Mongol classmate Budashili, a high-ranking noble who had maintained correspondence with Liu over the years.

The actual invitation came from Su Tianjue, Deputy Prime Minister of Jiangzhe Province, though the two had never met. During a visit to the capital, Liu had confided in Budashili about his career frustrations. Moved by his friend’s predicament, the Mongol noble arranged for Liu’s appointment, assuring him that Su Tianjue was a reform-minded administrator who valued talent above all else.

The Reformer and His Patron

Su Tianjue proved to be everything Budashili had promised. A distinguished scholar-official from Zhengding (modern Hebei), Su had risen through the ranks based on merit, earning fame for overturning wrongful convictions during his tenure as an investigating censor. His literary achievements matched his administrative accomplishments, with his concise, powerful prose becoming widely emulated. True to his reputation as a talent scout, Su immediately recognized Liu Bowen’s exceptional abilities upon their first meeting.

Liu threw himself into educational reform with characteristic vigor. In a province where illiteracy ran rampant, he championed public education initiatives and supported the establishment of charitable schools. His passionate advocacy for expanding educational access reflected his belief that the Yuan dynasty’s future depended on cultivating talent like himself. Yet even as he worked to strengthen the empire’s intellectual foundations, Liu sensed the gathering storm clouds of rebellion that would soon render his efforts moot.

The Gathering Storm

Liu’s worst fears materialized when Su Tianjue was recalled to the central government after just one year. Without his patron’s support, Liu’s ambitious plans stalled, leaving him disillusioned. The political landscape darkened further as rebel forces gained strength across the province. Among these early insurgents, none proved more formidable than Fang Guozhen, a salt smuggler turned pirate warlord from Huangyan (modern Zhejiang).

Fang’s rebellion followed a pattern that would become familiar during the Yuan dynasty’s final years. After being implicated in a criminal case through no fault of his own, Fang rallied his brothers and smuggling network to form a rebel army. His intimate knowledge of coastal waters made him nearly invincible at sea, where he disrupted imperial grain shipments and launched devastating raids on coastal settlements.

The Failure of Imperial Response

The Yuan government’s initial attempts to suppress Fang ended in humiliation. General Dorjibal, a veteran of numerous anti-bandit campaigns, proved hopelessly outmatched at sea. His land-bound forces succumbed to seasickness before Fang’s sailors scuttled their ships and took Dorjibal prisoner. Rather than executing his captive, Fang negotiated for an official position – a tactic that would become his trademark.

When news of this debacle reached the capital, military hawks demanded vengeance while pragmatists argued for appeasement. The debate revealed the empire’s fundamental weakness: its Mongol cavalry, once the terror of Eurasia, had no answer for naval warfare. In the end, the court opted for the path of least resistance, granting Fang an official post in hopes of buying peace.

A Scholar’s Protest

Liu Bowen watched these developments with growing alarm. When the government dismissed him in 1349 for criticizing lax oversight by provincial censors, he channeled his frustration into writing. His satirical essay “The Orange Seller” skewered the empire’s corrupt officials as “gold and jade on the outside, but rotten cotton within.” The piece became widely circulated, cementing Liu’s reputation as a fearless truth-teller.

Fang Guozhen’s brief retirement proved short-lived. In 1350, resentful of discrimination by career bureaucrats, he returned to piracy with renewed vigor. The court dispatched another expedition under the scholar-general Tai Buhua, who recognized Fang’s surrender offers as tactical ploys. Overruled by superiors insisting on reconciliation, Tai marched to his death in a hopeless battle. His martyrdom prompted Liu to write a moving eulogy that concluded with the damning verdict: “The Yuan is beyond saving.”

The Cycle of Rebellion and Appeasement

As Liu predicted, Fang’s third rebellion in 1352 demonstrated how imperial weakness bred further unrest. By this time, the Yuan faced simultaneous uprisings across China, including the Red Turban movement and Xu Shouhui’s “Tianwan” empire in Hubei. When Xu’s forces threatened Hangzhou, Fang seized the opportunity to renew his attacks.

Liu, now serving as military advisor to the Zhejiang commander, advocated a strategy of fortified defenses to starve Fang into submission. Initial successes proved his approach sound, but once again political considerations trumped military logic. When Fang offered to surrender in 1353, the court accepted despite Liu’s vehement protests.

In a series of writings, Liu condemned the policy of appeasement as fundamentally corrupting. He argued that rewarding rebellion with official posts devalued the imperial honor system while encouraging further lawlessness. His analogy comparing such offices to prostitutes – once chaste maidens now cheapened for public use – particularly enraged Fang, who attempted unsuccessfully to bribe Liu into silence.

Exile and Reflection

The court’s final rejection of Liu’s hardline stance led to his exile in Shaoxing in 1353. This three-year period of forced retirement gave Liu time to reflect on the empire’s terminal decline. His experiences with Fang Guozhen had revealed the Yuan’s fatal flaws: an inability to adapt militarily, a preference for short-term fixes over long-term solutions, and a ruling class that had lost its martial vigor.

As Liu had foreseen, Fang would continue his cycle of rebellion and negotiated surrender until the Yuan’s collapse. The scholar’s bitter lesson – that no amount of personal integrity or strategic insight could save a regime determined on self-destruction – would inform his later service to the Ming dynasty’s founder Zhu Yuanzhang.

Liu Bowen’s turbulent career during the Yuan’s final decades offers a case study in the challenges faced by reform-minded officials during dynastic decline. His story illustrates how institutional decay undermines even the most talented individuals, while his writings provide timeless insights into the corrosive effects of political corruption.