Chapter 1 of 10
Chapter 1
8 min read2,086 words
In the summer of the sixteenth year of the Chongzhen era, the air was stifling and suffocating.
In the southeastern corner of the imperial palace, Emperor Chongzhen, who had reigned for seventeen years, sat on the dragon throne, wearing a winged cap and a narrow-sleeved robe. Despite the ice blocks placed in the hall, they did little to dispel the intense heat. The sun and moon embroidered on the shoulders of his dragon robe weighed heavily on the young emperor, leaving him exhausted.
The thirty-three-year-old emperor.
"Your Majesty, the capital is like a ghost town, with every household in mourning. I beg you to open the imperial treasury and distribute medicine," said Gong Yonggu, the imperial son-in-law, his voice choked with sorrow, as if his own family had suffered a great misfortune.
Chongzhen sighed, feeling a tightness in his neck. "This great epidemic has come with such ferocity that many have died even in the palace. I have already ordered the Daoist master Zhang Yingjing to hold a ritual to bless the dead and pray for the disaster to be averted. As for distributing medicine, I will do as you request. Fortunately, our son has grown up; otherwise, it would be truly worrying."
Mentioning their son, the gazes of those in the hall involuntarily turned to a small table beside the imperial desk.
The Crown Prince, dressed in a bright red dragon-patterned robe, was diligently sorting the memorials submitted by the cabinet into four piles. Sweat glistened on his forehead and nose, making him look even more delicate and charming, and one couldn't help but want to wipe it away for him.
The Crown Prince was the eldest son of the Empress, born in the second month of the second year of Chongzhen and designated as the heir the following year. Given the deep affection between Chongzhen and Empress Zhou, the position of the Crown Prince was unshakable.
Moreover, the Crown Prince was a prodigy, a fact that even the haughty officials of the outer court could not deny.
Zhu Cilang had just finished categorizing the last memorial, and with practiced ease, he divided the four piles into two stacks, which he then handed to the eunuchs of the Office of Ceremonial to present to the emperor.
"Father," Zhu Cilang stepped forward and bowed slightly, saying, "This great epidemic is spreading rapidly, and the people are in a state of panic. Simply distributing medicine may not be enough."
Gong Yonggu sat up straighter, feeling a sense of relief. He thought to himself, "They say the Crown Prince is benevolent and kind; indeed, his reputation is well-deserved."
Chongzhen knew that his son was precocious, with a photographic memory and a mature and thorough approach to matters, surpassing even the cabinet ministers. Any parent would be overjoyed to have such a prodigious son. However, his intelligence also made the Crown Prince's thoughts somewhat different from those of ordinary people.
Ordinary people were one thing, but the Ming dynasty had already had an emperor who practiced alchemy and another who was a carpenter. Whenever Chongzhen saw the Crown Prince fiddling with bottles and jars or making pulleys and wooden tracks, a chill would run up his spine. With the country in turmoil and on the brink of collapse, he could not afford another emperor like Jiajing or Tianqi.
—Perhaps the fall of the nation will be on my head.
Unconsciously, Chongzhen's spirits darkened, and he looked at the Crown Prince with a numb expression.
"I request, Father, that a prince be sent to the capital to oversee the epidemic control efforts," Zhu Cilang, in his adolescence, with a light fuzz on his upper lip and a somewhat high-pitched voice, spoke slowly and clearly, enunciating each word.
This way of speaking had another advantage: it conveyed a sense of unwavering resolve, making the listener more likely to be swayed, even if they disagreed with his words.
The struggle between people is, in essence, a struggle of wills.
"Prince?" Chongzhen regained some of his spirit. "Are you volunteering yourself?"
Chongzhen had once had seven sons and three daughters, but now only three sons and one daughter remained. The eldest, Zhu Cilang, was only fifteen, and the two younger brothers were even younger. Moreover, even the prodigious Crown Prince was not trusted to take on such a task, let alone the two younger princes.
"Your Majesty, this must not be done!" Gong Yonggu broke out in a cold sweat. "The Crown Prince is still young, his soul not fully formed. How can he be sent to such a dangerous place?" The relief he had felt moments ago vanished, and he was now deeply concerned. For Gong Yonggu, the life of the heir to the throne was more important than the lives of all the people in Beijing.
Zhu Cilang gave the imperial son-in-law a cold glance, silently labeling him as "cowardly."
"I am the Crown Prince, protected by the gods. Even if it were a real demon, it would have to retreat," Zhu Cilang raised his voice. "Father, the country is in turmoil. If we do not seize this opportunity to boost morale, the people will become even more apathetic."
"Retire," Chongzhen frowned and waved his hand.
Zhu Cilang pursed his lips and finally said, "I obey your command."
Watching his eldest son bow and back out, Chongzhen leaned heavily against the back of his throne. On his desk, two neat stacks of memorials were placed. The power to sort these memorials had been taken from the Office of Ceremonial by the Crown Prince in the eighth year of Chongzhen's reign.
That year, rebels had breached the capital of Fengyang and desecrated the imperial tombs.
That year, the Crown Prince was only six years old.
At the age of six, the Crown Prince had miraculously made his way from the Zhongcui Palace to the Wuying Hall, where he delivered a passionate speech to his father, the emperor, who was then twenty-five years old, about the importance of father and son working together. He successfully leveraged Chongzhen's natural paternal love and his vulnerable state of mind to gain the power to sort the memorials.
Due to the lessons learned from Wei Zhongxian's abuse of power, there were no powerful eunuchs in Chongzhen's court, and eunuchs were not allowed to approve memorials. However, the Office of Ceremonial, as the inner ministers, was not just a nominal title. Even a diligent emperor like Chongzhen, who worked sixteen hours a day, could not possibly read all the memorials submitted each day.
Deciding which memorials to present and when became an opportunity for eunuchs to wield power. By controlling the timing of the submissions, they influenced the emperor's daily decisions. In essence, this was the power to set priorities.
It took Chongzhen four years to realize this.
It was not because his political acumen had grown with his years as emperor, but because he had accidentally read the memorials that had been placed at the bottom. The Crown Prince's method of categorizing the memorials was quickly uncovered by the astute emperor.
All memorials that involved officials impeaching each other or censors impeaching border officials were placed at the bottom.
The Crown Prince defended his method by saying he categorized the memorials based on their importance and urgency. However, what the Crown Prince considered unimportant and non-urgent were, in the emperor's eyes, matters of national importance and the standards for appointing officials. Therefore, Chongzhen began to read the memorials from the bottom, determined to delve into the political struggles of the officials.
Zhu Cilang stepped out of the Wenhua Hall and, as soon as he turned, a wave of heat hit him. He squinted and looked up at the sun, which was barely visible through the clouds. He wished it would be even hotter; he hated these overcast days that made the world feel oppressive.
"Chun-ge, are you returning to the palace?" Zhou Jing, the guard of the Eastern Palace, saw Zhu Cilang come out and hurriedly approached, signaling the eunuchs to raise the parasol and fans to shield him from the heat.
Because he was born in the middle of spring, the Crown Prince's nickname was naturally "Chun." The Eastern Palace was also known as the Spring Palace, so the name "Chun-ge" was fitting.
Of course, not just anyone could call him by this nickname. Only his parents, close relatives, his wet nurse, and two palace matrons were allowed to use it. After he was weaned, his wet nurse was dismissed to prevent a repeat of the Kesi incident. Later, when the Eastern Palace guards were selected, Zhou Jing, who was the leader, was also allowed to call him by this name.
Zhou Jing was the cousin of Empress Zhou and, by extension, the Crown Prince's uncle.
Shaded by the parasol, Zhu Cilang finally caught his breath and took a few steps forward before saying, "Kunning Palace."
Kunning Palace was the residence of Empress Zhou, also known as the Central Palace.
From Zhu Cilang's fifteen years of experience, he knew that for some less important matters, it was better to seek the Empress rather than the emperor.
Of course, the most influential person in the Forbidden City was actually the Empress Dowager Yizhuan, Empress Zhang. She was the empress of Emperor Tianqi and had been instrumental in selecting Empress Zhou as the consort of Prince Xinyang. She had also firmly supported Prince Xinyang's ascension to the throne after Emperor Tianqi's death, giving her considerable influence.
Empress Dowager Zhang was also very caring towards Crown Prince Zhu Cilang, often sending him toys and summoning him to test his studies. However, she was too principled and lacked the flexibility of Empress Zhou. A request like leaving the palace to take charge of affairs would be dismissed as heretical.
—In the end, being too young is a significant obstacle.
Under the parasol, Zhu Cilang sighed. In his view, the Ming dynasty was not doomed to fall in the early years of Chongzhen's reign. In the fourth, eleventh, and fifteenth years of Chongzhen, there were opportunities to quell the civil unrest. However, Chongzhen's indecisiveness and the loss of capable officials and generals, with incompetent people taking their places, were the main reasons for the decline.
Each time he heard of the death of a famous historical figure, Zhu Cilang was filled with dread. Last year, when the news of the great defeat at Songshan and the deaths of Hong Chengchou and Cao Bianjiao reached him, he became numb and began to consider his final escape plan.
If he could escape the Forbidden City and the capital, he could go to Nanjing to rebuild the Ming dynasty. As long as the Ming dynasty's legitimacy was not broken, the internal strife of the Southern Ming would not continue to erupt. If Nanjing could not be held, he could go to Sichuan, Yunnan, Hainan, or Taiwan. The Southern Ming, despite its incompetent rulers, managed to last for forty years, so for him, restoring the Ming dynasty was only a matter of time.
However, the key was to escape.
As Zhu Cilang once again pondered his restoration plan, the imperial procession had already passed through the Qianqing Gate and entered the inner palace. This place, which many people longed for, did not have three thousand beauties or frequent music and dancing.
Only oppression and constraints.
As a teenager with an adult's soul, this oppression tested his self-proclaimed resilient nerves.
"The Empress requests the Crown Prince's audience," the eunuch announced loudly.
At that moment, Zhu Cilang had just arrived at the entrance of Kunning Palace.
Sometimes the palace seemed like a magical world, where unseen spirits completed all tasks.
Zhu Cilang adjusted his bright red robe and strode into the main hall of Kunning Palace.
Empress Zhou, wearing a simple vest, sat on the main chair. The moment she saw her son, the faint wrinkles at the corners of her eyes became visible.
"Chun-ge has arrived," Empress Zhou turned slightly, her delicate hand resting on the armrest. Her fingers were fine and white, clean and neat, as she did not keep long nails due to her habit of spinning and weaving.
"Your eldest son, Cilang, greets Your Majesty, Empress Mother," Zhu Cilang bowed deeply. Seeing her hand raised, he straightened up.
After going through the formalities, he could now speak about serious matters with a casual demeanor.
---
The page is turning, and the advertisement is starting.
The page is turning, and the advertisement is ending.