以下原书68页起至79页止：
The I Prince, Yin-Hsiang
Prince I (1686–1730) stands out from Yung-cheng's other brothers because of his loyal service at the center of government. As was described in Chapter 1, the Yung-cheng Emperor sparred with many of his brothers in order to end the factional divisions at court and achieve a permanent reduction in the royal princes' influence in government. In the early years of the reign several imperial siblings died under suspicious circumstances, possibly of poisoning. Prince I was an exception to this pattern. He won Yung-cheng's confidence and served with loyalty at the heart of the inner court for the first half of the reign. During these years the emperor depended on this brother more than on any other courtier. The prince provided frank advice as well as administrative talents. Although he never formally held a Grand Council title, some have regarded him as the earliest grand councillor.
This prince died young, in the middle of the reign, at the age of forty-three. But his contributions to his brother's rule had already been so crucial in his eight years as the emperor's right-hand man that at his death the emperor succumbed to a fit of grief at the loss of his closest confidant. Business at court was suspended for three days.Yung-cheng wrote General Yueh Chung-ch'i that he was so upset he could not write down his feelings about the tragedy in brush and ink. The emperor moaned of his "terrible sorrow," stating that his heart was "adrift."A series of edicts poured forth to mourn the loss; in one the distraught emperor cried that the prince's final illness "has tied my heart in knots and dominated all my waking hours.'' Other edicts numbly summed up the emperor's anguish with repetitions of the phrase "Eight years have passed as one day." In his turmoil the emperor waxed maudlin, claiming that even the weather had cooperated whenever the prince assisted him—it had been "warm and clear" and "everything went smoothly." Yung-cheng recalled the prince's extreme modesty and suggested that his virtues must now be recognized, for if no one did so, that "would put an end to the prince's goodness." Indeed, the emperor went so far as to ponder the possibility of his own complicity in the prince's death. ''Could it be," he mused, "that I have committed a crime against Heaven or against my late father and as a result my loyal and assisting prince has been snatched away so suddenly?"
The final illness and death of the man who bore the princely title "I" ("Harmonious," pronounced ee) were a major turning point of the reign. For the seven years before the onset of his illness the prince had been Yung-cheng's chief factotum, "handling all central government affairs," taking on crucial responsibilities, and debating high policy with the emperor. Yung-cheng's own words enumerated the many areas of government with which the prince had been concerned: "state policy, state finance, water conservancy, leadership of the imperial bodyguard, and all internal palace affairs."Moreover, as we saw in Yung-cheng's letters to General Yueh in Chapter 1, the emperor frequently debated military strategy with his brother. In this chapter we shall see how from the beginning the prince was the driving force behind certain financial policies and their implementation.
Then Chang T'ing-yü joined him in the ministerial level of the Board of Revenue and brought his talents to bear on some of the pressing financial problems of the day. But Chang was not a beloved, trusted brother of the monarch. Moreover, he was a Chinese. His relationship with the emperor had to be more formal and less confiding than the prince's. This fact alone suggests the extent of Yung-cheng's loss at his brother's death. After that sad event, the emperor appears to have lost his bearings for a time. He was distraught and even suffered ill health. For several months Chang held the central position at court, taking charge of such diverse responsibilities as the emperor's medical treatment and edict drafting.
Although the first half of the reign had been characterized by many new high-level committees and staffs, in general these had been only temporarily set up to handle a specific problem or a facet of a long-term question. Such ad hoc committee assignments continued after Prince I's death, but during these later years, when at first Chang dominated in the inner court, two of the earlier inner-court groups—the inner deputies and the subordinate Military Finance Section—became more solidly established. Later another staff, the High Officials in Charge of Military Strategy, was convened to make recommendations on campaign policy. Finally the great Manchu governor-general O-erh-t'ai was recalled from his post in the southwest to serve at the head of the inner court. Thus, the intensified needs of the northwest campaign, coupled with the loss of the prince who had done so much to help the emperor cope with the campaign, forced a restructuring of the inner court.
Prince I served Yung-cheng in many ways that an ordinary official who was not a close relative could not have done. This was apparent, for instance, in the prince's handling of the touchy questions of intrigue and treachery at court. One of Yung-cheng's long funeral eulogies on the prince described how at the beginning of the reign "A-ch'i-na [Yung-cheng's derogatory name for his despised brother Yin-ssu] harbored evil designs to disrupt the country," while at the same time "Lung-k'o-to [a high Manchu official and imperial relative] made use of his prestige and fortune to monopolize power and overuse his authority. So," the emperor continued, praising Prince I's handling of these difficulties, "it fell to the prince alone in his magnificent way to bring about an atmosphere of unity in the midst of their wrangling. The result was that in the end these traitors did not attain their goals.''
The same eulogy also described how the prince had turned his back on Lung-k'o-to's schemes to impede General Nien Keng-yao's management of the campaign. The prince, said the emperor, had recommended acting "in accordance with the principle of total authority for those in command," throwing full support to the man in charge at the front—in this case, General Nien. Accordingly, said Yung-cheng, "I heeded the prince's advice and thus Lung-k'o-to was unable, from his vantage point in the palace, to impede the campaign any further. As a result Ch'ing-hai was pacified."Introducing "unity in the midst of [the princes'] wrangling" was no small service to the strife-ridden court of the early Yung-cheng years.
Debating high policy with the emperor was another of Prince I's contributions in the early years. The two brothers argued freely and challenged each other's ideas. Yung-cheng several times described how the prince had questioned his thinking or persuaded him to change his mind. For example, when the emperor later recalled the palace intrigues marshaled against General Yueh Chung-ch'i when he was considered for the overlordship on the western front, the edict read:
Yueh Chung-ch'i is an outstanding official, but [in the early years of the reign] Ts'ai T'ing [a court official] and others with malice insinuated that he had been in the clique of Nien Keng-yao [who had been dismissed under suspicion of disloyalty]. Over and over again they assured me that he could not be counted on. But the prince pleaded with me, arguing that Yueh Chung-ch'i's great abilities and single-minded love of country would not [allow him] to turn his back on the imperial benevolence or ignore what was right. [The prince even] wanted to guarantee him with his own life and property.
These quotations from one of Yung-cheng's mourning edicts show some of the ways the emperor depended on the prince. The edicts, together with many of the handwritten imperial commentaries and other sources of the time, make clear that during his early years Yung-cheng leaned heavily on the prince for advice, help in working out policies, troubleshooting, and a myriad other inner-court tasks.
Prince I, the thirteenth son of the K'ang-hsi Emperor, did not attain prominence until Yung-cheng came to power. Eight years younger than his imperial brother and thirty-seven years old at the death of his father, he had not been given important responsibilities during his father's reign.The day after K'ang-hsi's death the new emperor raised him to a first-degree princedom
and gave him his first of several inner-court appointments, a place on the four-member Plenipotentiary Council (set up to assist during the mourning period).A month later the prince was given his first high responsibility when he was put in charge of the Three Treasuries (San-k'u), a key post at the Board of Revenue.In this capacity, as well as in two other posts that he shortly took over—head of the Audit Bureau (Hui-k'ao fu) and superintendent (tsung-li) of the Board of Revenue—the prince dealt with the depleted imperial treasury, malefactions in the Board of Revenue, and decades of unpaid taxes.
Prince I and the Financial Crisis
At the beginning of the reign Yung-cheng was challenged by an array of financial problems ranging from mismanagement to outright corruption. One area—the tax arrears inherited from the late K'ang-hsi years—will illustrate Prince I's assistance to the emperor in the thorny realms of state finance. The tax crisis consisted of a very large shortage—some say as much as 2.5 million taels—in the Board of Revenue accounts. Early in the reign, problems of this type had been handed to the Plenipotentiary Council, which would then frequently hold discussions with the appropriate outer-court boards. But soon the emperor turned his back on these organizations, taking the financial weakness of the realm out of their jurisdiction. Increasingly he came to depend on the I Prince acting either alone in his capacity as Board of Revenue superintendent or jointly with a small number of specially designated high-level officials.
According to Yung-cheng's own description of how the tax arrears policies were decided and administered in the early years of the reign, the prince sought ways to replenish the state treasury without overburdening the debtor-officials or their families and descendants. One of his proposals was that the central government gradually pay off the shortages by tapping parts of two tax surcharges: the silver-purity fee (called p'ing-yü in Yung-cheng's description) and the food money payments (fan-shih yin).
But Yung-cheng objected to the prince's proposals. They were too lenient and failed to punish the miscreants who had caused the shortages. The emperor thought it only fair that the accounts be cleared by either the defaulting taxpayers themselves or their descendants. In a long edict dating from after the prince's death Yung-cheng recalled his disagreements with the prince on this issue:
My view was that for many years those officials who had been in charge [of provincial finances] had eaten away the national treasure and treated with contempt the laws of the land; if we did not force them to make restitution, why should they obey the financial [regulations] and how would we ever get rid of corruption? Therefore, I did not approve what the prince had sought, but ordered that he draw up a report [with the details of those who owed money] so that they would be forced to repay.
At first [as we discussed this] the prince changed his expression [pien-se, meaning he was visibly upset]. But afterward, he obeyed my decree and fully carried it through. As a result, people at the capital and in the provinces only knew that the Board of Revenue had had unpaid debts for many years and that these had been brought to light by Prince I. There were uninformed small-minded persons who said that the prince had gone to excess in seeking out [those who owed money—that is, he had been too harsh] and who did not realize that the prince had asked that men be spared repayment and requested that he pay instead [with the purity fee and food money fund]. . . .
Now for several years [in accordance with my will, not the prince's] the debts have been traced to the names of the [defaulting] officials. [But these payments have accounted for] less than ten or twenty percent [of the total], and Prince I, using the purity fee and food money fund, has paid up eighty or ninety percent for them.
Toward the end of this recollection the emperor revealed his negative view of his provincial officials and their greed and irresponsibility in failing to pay what they owed; he also described how Prince I's arguments had influenced policy even when the two men were not in agreement:
As for this money that the officials ought to have paid over and which had not been paid, how could we just forget it? As for these crimes, how could we forgive them?
This spring [YC8; 1730], when I saw that the prince was ill and not getting well, I thought of what the prince had so earnestly beseeched in the past and handed down a special edict forgiving the debts of those officials who had not yet repaid, in accordance with what the prince had wanted from the beginning. . . .
In the past the prince had told me, "Your Majesty's methods are rather severe." My response was that men's disposition is to shirk responsibility, a hundred kinds of malfeasance have been with us ere long, multiplying in abundance. If at the present time we fail to punish [these miscreants], in the future there will be no end [to our problems]. Thus, although I did not [always] follow the prince's advice at the time, nevertheless, the prince's generous and loyal intentions were never even for a day not held in my heart.
The emperor concluded this part of his soliloquy by affirming that "bribe seeking, taking from the treasury, and acting in a traitorous fashion are all gradually disappearing among the lower bureaucrats." Although Yung-cheng clearly believed in stern taxation methods, these changes, he admitted, had been brought about by the prince's policies at the Board of Revenue. The edict bears witness to the prince's high-level role in serving at the head of the Board of Revenue, debating policy alternatives with the emperor, and implementing the policies that eventually replenished the treasury reserves. It also shows how occasionally the prince persuaded the emperor to change his mind.
Many of Prince I's surviving memorials also affirm his central role in the financial problems of the day. As superintendent of the Board of Revenue he was in charge of policy discussions undertaken by the board directorate and middle-level staff. (A board directorate consisted of officials at the three highest levels—superintendent, presidents, and vice presidents; see Figure 2). The memorials that carry the prince's name at the head of the list of discussers took up many financial problems, including various tax arrears cases—payments, punishments, promotions, and leniency.
One of these, a joint Manchu–Chinese-language (Man-Han ho-pi) memorial of YC2 (1724), for example, was produced in concert by the boards of Revenue and Civil Office, the latter having been brought in because some of the unpaid taxes threatened promotion chances for the responsible officials still in office. The conclusion was that since the arrears were of fairly recent date (KH58; 1719) the time limit for payment had not yet been reached and the taxes were not technically in arrears; the matter was postponed for reconsideration should formal impeachment become necessary.A similar deliberation of YC4 (1726) considered a provincial governor's insistence that a district magistrate be denied promotion because he had exceeded the time limit for handing over his district's back taxes. The board directorate lightened the governor's harsh stand and recommended that the man be restored to his career because the taxes for KH60 and 61 (1721 and 1722) had been paid and only those of YC1 (1723) remained; most of the money could easily be forwarded to the capital, they thought, and the only appropriate punishment would be a small fine deducted from his salary. One memorial on a financial topic went into such detail that it ran on for eighty-six folds—more than fifteen feet of writing in the Chinese half of the document alone.
These memorials and others like them display the accomplishments that Yung-cheng attributed to his brother—painstaking consideration of each case, leniency rather than the harshness that the emperor desired, mild penalties when necessary, and deft arrangements to get the missing sums repaid. Gradually, through a combination of rigor and compassion coupled with the banking of small fees, the Board of Revenue arrears were cleared. Indeed, the financial wizardry of the prince and his staff was so successful that according to a laudatory edict, the problem of the K'ang-hsi tax arrears had been resolved by mid-reign; in the process the prince had even amassed an extra ten million taels to help finance the northwest campaign against the Zunghars.
In addition to tax arrears, the prince's memorials show his concern with other aspects of the economic life of the realm. One proposal urged punishments for two kinds of improper connivances between provincial and board officials known as "adding the weight" (chia-p'ing) and "adding the touch" (chia-se). The former functioned by having the board ignore shortages in tax shipments in return for a cut of the illegal spoils; the latter resulted in excess touch being required for the silver sent to the capital. In both kinds of malefaction the provincial and board officials split the illegal take. In another memorial, the prince urged the reduction of the old heavy taxes on Kiangnan and Chekiang rice and silk that had been imposed as long before as the fourteenth century.Still another memorial wrestled with problems arising from Ch'ing bimetallism, pondering which coinage, copper or silver, should be required for tax payments; in the end the deliberation rejected the argument that the very poor should be given the option of paying their taxes in copper rather than silver (because copper was not as good a store of value as silver).Another position paper considered the complexities of interest owed on government money invested at Chin-chiang.
Most of the early Prince I financial memorials were submitted as Board of Revenue deliberations, listing many middle and high board members as authors—one document had seventeen names at the end and reached deep into the board's departments for contributors to the discussions. Although the prince may not have thought up all the solutions presented in these documents, as the highest-ranking board member he guided the deliberations and may have drafted some of the recommendations himself. Deservedly, these position papers won the emperor's esteem for the man who had so adroitly managed the deliberations. Thus, it was for his early work in finance that the prince first gained the new emperor's trust.
Prince I and Water Conservancy
In YC3/12 (early 1726) the prince was given the title "Managing Water Conservancy Matters in the Capital Area" (Tsung-li chi-fu shui-li shih) and put in charge of the long-standing problem of the Yung-ting
River floods near the capital.Once again he was a success. The situation was investigated, proposals submitted and approved, channels dug. Chihli province survived the following year's rainy season with floods and landslides appreciably diminished.
After Prince I took over the management of Chihli's water conservancy problems, Yung-cheng began to ignore the boards and other established organizations that might have dealt with this kind of problem, relying instead on his favorite brother to handle all matters connected with the post. On one occasion even a low-level appointment in the water conservancy project was referred to the prince rather than to the responsible board. This happened in YC4 (1726), when the Chihli governor-general submitted a palace memorial asking for a decision about applying the rule of avoidance to a man posted to a water conservancy project. The imperial rescript ordered the material rewritten in a routine memorial. When it arrives, wrote the emperor, "I will see what the I Prince has to say." Thus Yung-cheng planned to follow the proper procedures: the board would receive the memorial and go through the motions of preparing its views; but at the same time he anticipated that he might decide to ignore the board recommendation and accept the prince's advice instead. Once again, in water conservancy as in other areas, the emperor revealed his predilection for relying on high-level inner-court assistants, especially a top trusted favorite, rather than statutory outer-court organizations.
Honors for Prince I
Yung-cheng's appreciation of his brother's loyalty, rectitude, and financial acumen stood out in contrast with his anguished relations with most of his other brothers. At the end of the first year of the reign, for example, the emperor held up Prince I as a model, at the same time disparaging the behavior of his other siblings: "Among my brothers are several men lacking in self-restraint. When my late father was alive, they neither stopped nor stayed [in their pursuit of] manifold plans to plunder the national treasury. . . . I desire to set the prince's goodness before all and shame my worthless brothers."As a result, the emperor attempted to lavish honors on his good brother. In YC4 (1726), the emperor bestowed a horizontal tablet (pien-e) on the prince, eulogizing him as "loyal, upright, prudent, and incorruptible." The accompanying widely promulgated edict named nine specific areas in which the prince had ''given his utmost to serve with loyalty and devotion." At the top of the list was "counsel on government affairs of the highest importance." This was followed by the prince's work at the Board of Revenue and the Three Treasuries and in the Chihli water conservancy post. The last five items together showed how the prince was given one of the most sacred trusts of the realm: the guarding of the imperial person. This included responsibilities for imperial bodyguards, matters affecting the royal princes, the emperor's residence before he came to the throne, Summer Palace (Yuan-ming yuan) guards, and the supervision and remodeling of the imperial residence in Peking (the Yang-hsin Pavilion). The edict added that the prince had "alone planned and administered" this great variety of responsibilities "from the broadest scope down to the smallest detail." In another edict issued after the prince's death, the emperor described the prince's services with a verb generally employed for prime ministers (fu-pi), adding that on occasion the prince had even "substituted for me" (tai-chen).Such imperial eulogizing was rare.
How was the I Prince able so successfully to thread his way upward through the thickets of court gossip and conspiracies and at the same time win the respect of a ruler often regarded as suspicious and mistrustful? Probably most important was the fact that the prince had played little or no part in the succession struggles that had clouded the end of his father's reign. The Yung-cheng Emperor admired this circumspect behavior, saying: "During my father's time [the prince] respectfully [conducted himself] with self-discipline and integrity and did not take part in any schemes for his own private interest or join in cliques . . . not like my other brothers who in various ways troubled my late father's heart."
In addition, the prince adroitly forestalled the imperial suspicion by refusing all honors and awards and cultivating a posture of lack of personal ambition. The historical record on these matters is full of Yung-cheng's satisfaction with such rectitude. Although it was good Chinese practice to refuse an honor three times, acceptance was permissible on the fourth offer. But no matter what money or honors were at stake, Prince I continued adamantly to refuse. There was one instance at the end of the first year of the reign when he finally but most reluctantly agreed to accept part of a large gift of money that the emperor was distributing to all first-degree princes. But other subsidies were "most earnestly" declined. On occasion even honors conferred on his son were not found acceptable. In one of the mourning edicts, the emperor praised the simplicity of his brother's life, pointing to the frugality of his household accounts and the fact that his residence possessed only three gates and five pavilions and halls, circumspectly in agreement with regulations.Such upright behavior, coupled with the prince's lack of desire for gain, won the emperor's confidence. The prince seems to have known that it was not enough to cast his lot with the new monarch; faced with an emperor who had reacted strongly to those brothers who had challenged him for the throne, he seems to have cultivated as unthreatening an appearance as possible. He was rewarded with the highest possible encomium: the emperor's satisfaction that he had "wholeheartedly" supported him, always playing "the proper role of an official or younger brother."In the politics of the day this course of action was probably the best one to follow.
Prince I and the Northwest Military Campaign
As we saw in Yung-cheng's epistles to General Yueh at the end of Chapter 1, the prince was also concerned with another of the pressing problems of his times—the northwestern military campaign. Plans for the foray against the Zunghar Mongols intensified only in late YC4 (1726), when, as the emperor later recollected,
[the problem of] military provisions for the northern front was turned over to the late Prince I and others to handle, and western-front military supplies were put under the charge of General Yueh Chung-ch'i to supervise. All of this began in YC4 [1726] . . . and was carried on for several years without either the officials or the people knowing that troops were being marshaled. Then when the military crisis came in YC7 [1729], we were [able to] ship supplies [to the front].
Prince I's role in discussing the campaign with the emperor is attested in a long undated edict to General Yueh written in Yung-cheng's vermilion script probably sometime during late YC5 (early 1728). In this document (which is extensively quoted at the end of Chapter 1 above), the prince was cited as having advocated a quick surprise swoop on the Zunghar Mongols in preference to lengthy, costly, and obvious preparations that the Zunghars would be sure to hear about in advance. The prince was also said to have warned that the plan of depending on Zunghar harvests to support Chinese troops on campaign in the far west might meet with disappointment, especially if the surprise element of the campaign was lost and the enemy was foresighted enough to destroy crops before fleeing. Toward the end of this letter Yung-cheng asked General Yueh to send in his own detailed plans for the campaign, adding: "I will then take them up with the I Prince." From the earliest days, the prince's talents for strategic planning as well as financial management won him a central role in the campaign.
In the middle of YC7 (1729), military preparations were intensified and became openly discussed in the capital. The prince was given the title "In Charge of Military Affairs on the Northern and Western Fronts" (Pan-li hsi-pei liang-lu chün-chi) and now directed the campaign from the capital. At the same time, the Board of Revenue Military Finance Section (Chün-hsu fang) was established as an independent unit responsible to the ministerial level of the Board of Revenue, with Prince I, in his capacity as Board of Revenue superintendent, serving as the new section's topmost but part-time supervisor (see Figure 3).These titles and posts meant that in addition to discussing campaign policy with the emperor, the prince now directed a staff of subordinates at the capital who were specially concerned with military supply. In addition, he took charge of many deliberations on campaign matters, and his name headed the list of deliberators in those memorials. Had his death not intervened he would probably have continued in this central role.
Prince I and Communications Management
The prince may also have had a hand in the development of inner-court communications management. Part of the assault on tax arrears and financial malfeasance, for instance, included new communications management procedures for accounting and filing at the Board of Revenue. In YC2 (1724), the prince had petitioned for an additional second-class secretary at the board to handle archives, note down figures, and help check the year-end financial reports from provinces—activities designed to reduce malefactions in financial reports.The prince's organizational work at the Board of Revenue may also have been responsible for the improvement in financial statistics that is observable beginning with figures for the Yung-cheng period.
Prince I was also concerned with some of the developments in the palace memorial system that took place during the early part of the reign. When the provincial reporting net was broadened to include provincial lieutenant governors and treasurers, the prince's office was frequently designated as a marshaling point for the new reports. The prince may have had a role in confidential imperial audiences, for one of Yung-cheng's handwritten comments recalled a top-secret audience conversation at which the prince had clearly been present. Prince I was also involved with the inauguration of the court letter (chi-hsin or t'ing-chi) system, a secret method developed to help the emperor respond to palace memorials. The imperial vermilion calligraphy on the earliest surviving archival example of an actual court letter names the prince as having noted down the emperor's words; other early examples of this new type of edict carry his name at the head of the rosters of those who discussed edict content with the emperor. The prince also took charge of transmitting certain imperial directives, some of which were regarded as too confidential to be committed to writing. We know too that he organized numerous discussions involving Board of Revenue and other court officials and was thereby concerned with the expansion of the discussion memorial (i-fu tsou-che) feature of the palace memorial system.
Prince I also oversaw the editing and publishing of Yung-cheng's Grand Secretariat edicts (the work known as Shang-yü Nei-ko).In later years editorial work on many of the dynasty's official publications became an important inner-court task, and the grand councillors not only headed but also frequently dominated the editorial boards of the major official productions of their day. Inner-court concern with the official publications process was not well advanced during Prince I's tenure as unofficial adviser to the throne; this was another facet of inner-court strength that was only beginning to develop during the K'ang-hsi and Yung-cheng years.
The I Prince did not live to assist his brother beyond mid-reign. The untimely loss of the royal sibling, friend, and high minister led to a broken-hearted imperial eulogy: "There was nothing, no matter how great or small, that the prince did not take charge of and manage, nothing that he did not attend to in all detail and deal with in such a satisfactory fashion that my heart was completely at peace."Historians have usually written eagerly about Yung-cheng's brothers in terms of the lurid tales of their wrangling for the throne. Now from archival records of the emperor's own composition we have an imperial tribute to one prince's devoted service.
The prince had two chief inner-court successors: the Chinese official Chang T'ing-yü, who had played an important role in the inner court from the beginning of the reign; and the Manchu O-erh-t'ai, who was recalled to the capital service from the provinces only late in the reign, in YC10 (1732). Because of his longer inner-court service, Chang will be the focus of the remainder of this chapter. His story shows one way that Yung-cheng attempted to fill the gap left by Prince I's death and how once again the emperor was fortunate in his highest associates. Chang could not replace Prince I; he could never be as close to Yung-cheng or speak as frankly to him. But in his moment at the top he made a different kind of contribution, for several significant organizational changes were made during Chang's tenure. In the end his achievements may have been even more lasting than Prince I's.
注释我没录，因为对应的也是英文，咱们顺着找中文档案也不好找。桃红色的是等级较高的标题，蓝色的是等级较低的标题，在word里我用不同种类下划线区分的，结果贴不过来的说
