Introduction

The reign of the Kangxi Emperor, spanning from 1661 to 1722, is often remembered as a golden age of stability, cultural flourishing, and administrative efficiency within the Qing Dynasty. Under his leadership, China expanded its territories, fostered economic growth, and saw a renaissance in arts and scholarship. The imperial bureaucracy, though vast and complex, was generally regarded as well-regulated and relatively free from the rampant corruption that had plagued earlier dynasties. Yet, even in this era of perceived integrity, the human tendencies toward greed and deception found expression in the actions of a few clever officials who operated just beneath the emperor’s vigilant gaze. This article explores the stories of two such figures—Guo Sihai and Gao Shiqi—whose exploits reveal the subtle shades of gray in an otherwise clean administration, and reflects on the nature of power, favor, and moral compromise in one of history’s most celebrated empires.

Historical Context: The Kangxi Administration

To understand the environment in which these officials operated, one must first appreciate the broader context of Kangxi’s rule. Ascending the throne as a child, the Kangxi Emperor personally took control of the government in 1669 and proceeded to rule for over five decades, making him one of China’s longest-reigning monarchs. His approach to governance was characterized by pragmatism, intellectual curiosity, and a hands-on style of leadership. He regularly conducted tours of inspection throughout the empire, personally evaluating the performance of local officials and addressing grievances among the populace.

The Qing bureaucracy was a sophisticated machine, built on the foundations of the imperial examination system which selected officials based on merit and Confucian learning. In theory, this system promoted a class of scholar-officials devoted to virtue, public service, and loyalty to the emperor. Kangxi himself was deeply committed to these ideals, surrounding himself with talented advisers and encouraging intellectual debate. However, the immense power and prestige attached to official positions also created temptations. Salaries were often modest, and the social pressure to maintain a certain standard of living could drive some toward illicit gains. While Kangxi’s administration was notably less corrupt than those of many other periods, it was not entirely immune to the age-old problems of bribery and influence peddling.

The Tale of Guo Sihai: A Master of Deception

Among the officials in Kangxi’s court, Guo Sihai stood out for his intelligence and apparent humility. Known for his quick wit and literary talents, he managed to win the emperor’s favor through a carefully cultivated image of earnest dedication. In public, he embodied the Confucian ideal of the virtuous scholar—modest, hardworking, and respectful. But behind this facade lay a cunning mind devoted to self-enrichment.

Guo’s methods were as brazen as they were creative. During the sweltering summer months, when others sought relief from the heat, he would stage elaborate scenes designed to confound potential accusers. He would receive visitors while wearing heavy fur coats and cotton hats, seated beside a roaring fire, even as he snacked on chilled watermelon. This theatrical display was not merely eccentricity; it served a calculated purpose. When individuals came to offer bribes in exchange for official favors, Guo would gladly accept their gifts, making lavish promises of assistance. Yet, he never actually followed through on these commitments, knowing that the emperor would never approve such underhanded dealings.

When disappointed patrons demanded the return of their bribes, Guo would flatly refuse, hiding behind a feigned attitude of righteous inflexibility. “Take my life if you must,” he would declare, “but you will not take my money.” Those who attempted to bring formal complaints found themselves frustrated by the lack of evidence. When asked to describe the circumstances of the bribe, they would recount the absurd image of Guo in winter garb during midsummer. Magistrates, hearing such testimony, dismissed it as fabrication—surely no official in Beijing would behave so irrationally. Thus, Guo escaped unscathed, pocketing his ill-gotten gains while maintaining his position and the emperor’s trust.

Gao Shiqi: The Scholar Who Knew Too Much

If Guo Sihai represented one style of corruption, Gao Shiqi exemplified another, more sophisticated approach. A renowned intellectual and cultural figure, Gao enjoyed Kangxi’s high esteem for his scholarly achievements and cultural refinements. He was a frequent companion in the emperor’s literary and philosophical discussions, and his opinions carried weight in matters of state and culture. But Gao leveraged this access for personal gain through a system of carefully orchestrated intelligence gathering.

His method was deceptively simple: whenever he entered the palace, he carried a supply of gold beans in his pocket. As he moved through the corridors, he would engage the emperor’s eunuchs in casual conversation, subtly probing for information about Kangxi’s daily activities—what he had eaten, which books he was reading, whom he had met with, and what opinions he had expressed. If a eunuch provided particularly useful information, Gao would reward him with a gold bean. This steady stream of intelligence allowed Gao to anticipate the emperor’s desires and opinions, enabling him to tailor his own advice and actions to perfectly align with Kangxi’s moods and preferences.

As a result, Gao’s influence grew exponentially. He rose rapidly through the ranks, earning the envy and admiration of his peers. Even powerful figures like Mingzhu, a high-ranking minister, sought his counsel on how to gain the emperor’s favor. Gao was happy to provide advice—for a price. He amassed considerable wealth by teaching others the art of flattery and strategic deference, all while maintaining his image as a disinterested scholar.

His newfound riches allowed him to live in extraordinary luxury, residing in lavish estates and enjoying a lifestyle far beyond what his official salary could support. When critics finally brought accusations of corruption to Kangxi, Gao was prepared. He calmly explained that his wealth came not from abuse of power, but from the generous gifts of colleagues who respected him due to the emperor’s own favor. “I have never asked you for any special favors,” he reminded Kangxi, “and I could not refuse these gifts without offending fellow officials.” The emperor, amused by this clever response, took no further action.

The Case of Wu Zhaoqian: A Reflection on Freedom and Exile

The stories of Guo and Gao are further illuminated by the curious tale of Wu Zhaoqian, a scholar and poet who fell afoul of the law early in Kangxi’s reign. Wrongly accused of involvement in a literary scandal, Wu was exiled to Ningguta, a remote penal colony in Manchuria known for its harsh climate and isolation. He spent twenty-four years in this desolate region, far from the cultural comforts of the capital.

Yet, over time, Wu adapted to his new life and even found unexpected pleasures in the wilderness of the frontier. He took up hunting in the Changbai Mountains, fished in the Songhua River, and foraged for wild mushrooms near his simple home. When his friend, the famous poet Nalan Xingde, finally secured a pardon from Kangxi, Wu returned to Beijing a free man. But freedom, it turned out, brought its own burdens. He found himself disillusioned with the complexities and hypocrisies of court life, longing for the simplicity and honesty of his exile. He reportedly regretted his return and died shortly thereafter, consumed by melancholy.

Wu’s story serves as a poignant counterpoint to the narratives of Guo and Gao. Where they sought wealth and influence through deception, Wu discovered a form of contentment in adversity—a reminder that moral and personal fulfillment often defy conventional expectations.

The Role of Mingzhu: Power and Paradox

No discussion of corruption under Kangxi would be complete without mentioning Mingzhu, a senior statesman who served as a grand secretary and was one of the emperor’s most trusted advisers. Mingzhu was widely rumored to be corrupt, amassing a personal fortune through bribery and abuse of power. Yet, he maintained a paradoxical reputation for strict discipline within his own household. Despite holding immense influence for thirteen years, he forbade his servants and retainers from exploiting his name for personal gain or engaging in misconduct. This contrast highlights the complex moral landscape of the era, where even those who engaged in corruption might still uphold certain principles of order and restraint.

Legacy and Reflection

The careers of Guo Sihai and Gao Shiqi illustrate the enduring challenges of governing a vast empire, even under a ruler as capable and vigilant as Kangxi. Their stories remind us that corruption is often not a matter of simple villainy, but of cleverness rationalized within a system that offers both opportunity and temptation. Kangxi’s administration, for all its virtues, could not entirely eliminate these age-old vices, though it did succeed in keeping them within bounds—preventing the kind of large-scale, debilitating corruption that brought down other dynasties.

In the end, the tales of these cunning courtiers offer more than just historical amusement; they provide insight into the perennial tensions between idealism and practicality, integrity and ambition, that define political life in any era. The Kangxi Emperor’s ability to manage these tensions—to balance tolerance for human frailty with unwavering standards of justice—helps explain why his reign is remembered as a high point in Chinese history. And the stories of Guo, Gao, and others like them remain a testament to the complexity of human nature, ever capable of both great achievement and subtle compromise.