Chapter 1: The Carpenter Emperor

"Are you saying this is the medicinal decoction the Imperial Academy of Medicine prescribed... prescribed for me? I'm ill?" A pale-faced youth looked at the eunuch prostrating on the ground and asked in confusion.

"In reply to Your Majesty, this old servant's every word is true." The eunuch raised his head, two streams of tears running down his face. He wiped his tears and choked out: "Your Majesty caught a chill and your condition grew steadily worse. This old servant's heart ached as if cut with a knife, and I wished I could suffer in Your Majesty's place. Now that Your Majesty has recovered, this old servant's heart is filled with joy."

Although he felt that the Emperor, after his illness, seemed like a different person, Wei Zhongxian knew that the youth before him was his emperor.

During the days the Emperor was ill, he had not left his side for a single step. Now the Emperor's body had greatly recovered, though his thoughts seemed slightly disordered for a moment — but that didn't matter. As long as his body was well, that was good enough. He had once been the eyes and ears of Consort Kang, Lady Li, yet His Majesty still did not abandon him. He sincerely hoped His Majesty would be well — otherwise, what would become of his own wealth and position?

The youth, meanwhile, was staring blankly into space, because he had discovered that not only had he transmigrated into an ancient person, but he had specifically transmigrated into the first year of Tianqi as a short-lived emperor — Zhu Youxiao! That's right, it was now the first year of Tianqi, to be precise, the seventh day of the first month of the first year of Tianqi, and he... was the Tianqi Emperor who had been on the throne for less than half a year!

As everyone knew, this Tianqi Emperor was the famously renowned carpenter emperor of history, and also a notoriously fatuous and incompetent emperor. Many people did not think highly of him.

Zhu Youxiao knew that the Tianqi Emperor's greatest talent was carpentry, and he truly had excellent skill at it — to the point of being utterly obsessed with carpentry work.

But judging from his actions during his reign, it was genuinely hard to determine whether he was a good emperor or a bad one. In fact, an emperor couldn't really be distinguished simply by good or bad.

But this was the Emperor after all! The Emperor who was the state itself! Zhu Youxiao thought for a moment and then smiled with satisfaction.

But that smile, as it fell in Wei Zhongxian's eyes, was extremely eerie. The Great Ming had lost two emperors within a single year. If... he dared not think further, only praying that his emperor would recover quickly and stop flashing that ghastly smile to scare people at every turn.

"You... cough cough cough!" Zhu Youxiao was just about to speak when his throat suddenly itched, and he burst into violent coughing, feeling like he nearly coughed his lungs out. Isn't that exactly how that consumptive in Stephen Chow's movies acted? Thinking of this, Zhu Youxiao shuddered with revulsion.

Wei Zhongxian hastily shuffled forward on his knees a short distance and handed over a bowl of medicinal decoction that had already cooled to only slightly warm.

Zhu Youxiao looked at this bowl of pitch-black Chinese medicine and couldn't help furrowing his brows.

"Your Majesty, hold a plum in your mouth — it will help." Wei Zhongxian said with a fawning smile, his left hand producing from who knows where another small golden bowl filled with candied plums.

For the sake of his own health, Zhu Youxiao could only pinch his nose shut and down this bitter medicine. This flu that could take an emperor's life must certainly be formidable — if he didn't drink his medicine properly, he'd probably be "deceased" within a few days. Lifting his head to glance at Wei Zhongxian, Zhu Youxiao said with a smile: "You've worked hard these past days."

A bowl of medicine was quickly drained to the bottom. Wei Zhongxian flattered his emperor with a few fawning compliments, then bowed and withdrew.

As a transmigrator, Zhu Youxiao had been waiting for his golden finger to arrive. But for some unknown reason — perhaps because of his weak constitution — the golden finger that should have been there never appeared. Or perhaps it was just that he had read too many transmigration novels, and maybe real transmigration came with no golden finger at all.

He couldn't help but heave a heavy sigh, then casually picked up another candied plum and tossed it into his mouth. These plums were quite tasty, after all. Who cared about some golden finger — wasn't becoming emperor already a sweet enough deal?

In the blink of an eye, two days passed.

During these two days, aside from wrapping himself in a fox-fur robe and sitting beneath the corridor gazing at the beautiful snowy scenery of the Forbidden City, Zhu Youxiao spent his spare time frantically ransacking his memory for the history he had studied.

As for women and such, Zhu Youxiao hadn't given it any thought — he was still a child. Besides, the warning of the previous case was not far off; he dared not fool around. He had no desire to emulate his father, who bedded eight women in one night and was done for the next day.

The Ming dynasty was a complex dynasty rife with strife — eunuchs monopolizing power, civil officials forming factions, endless external threats. It would have been tolerable if it were merely man-made calamities, but unfortunately the Great Ming also suffered from continuous natural disasters.

Speaking of the Tianqi reign, the most famous thing about it was only one matter: factional strife.

This eunuch attending at his side was actually the historically infamous Nine Thousand Years, Wei Zhongxian.

His predecessor had vigorously promoted the Qi, Zhe, and Chu factions, and had allowed Wei Zhongxian to establish the eunuch faction, suppressing the Donglin Faction that his father had elevated. In fact, one had to admire the Donglin Faction — those people truly excelled at speculating on the succession of the heir apparent.

Whether it was his own father or the younger brother who came after him, the Donglin Faction was truly adept at handling the succession question — especially after his younger brother Chongzhen ascended the throne, the Donglin Faction once again began their path to power.

These Donglin Faction members, full of talk of righteousness and virtue, led Chongzhen to believe that all the officials of the realm were readers of the sages' books, all good officials who did not embezzle.

But when the Manchus came through the passes, what did these ministers do? They surrendered, colluded with the enemy, and betrayed their country. In the late Ming, factional strife had almost become the primary business of the court. To call it a dispute over governing philosophy was really less accurate than calling it a dispute over personal interests.

In his previous life, many people agonized over whether to chop off Wei Zhongxian's head after transmigrating, but Zhu Youxiao had never once thought that way.

Without Wei Zhongxian, who would he use? The people of the outer court? The Donglin Faction?

Don't be ridiculous. Aside from the eunuch faction, he had no one to rely on. Besides, wasn't it good to have someone out front taking the hits? He could then peacefully be the carpenter emperor!

Wei Zhongxian could be used, but not the way his predecessor had used him. Wei Zhongxian needed to become a blade in his hand, not some Nine Thousand Years.

In Zhu Youxiao's memory, his father, the Taichang Emperor, had died somewhat inexplicably in the Red Pill Case. In this palace — oh no, in this whole realm — everyone said the Tianqi Emperor was a ruler who only knew pleasure. There were rather many people who wanted to seize power, all watching his every move with hungry eyes.

If he made one wrong step, what awaited him ahead was an abyss of ten thousand zhang. Preserving his own life was the priority — his father's inexplicable death was precisely the warning from the previous case!

Zhu Youxiao felt his head ache again. It seemed that for the sake of his future happiness and sexual bliss, he would need to do his homework properly and learn how to be a good emperor — otherwise he couldn't avoid walking the old path of history. He really didn't want to actually be a short-lived emperor!

"Your Majesty, it is time for the morning court." The eunuch Chen Hong tactfully used the morning court to remind Zhu Youxiao to exercise moderation. To outsiders, Zhu Youxiao, newly recovered from serious illness, had been immersed all night in the joy of carpentry.

Looking at the floor covered in defective pieces, Zhu Youxiao let out a light sigh. Even though he had inherited the carpenter emperor's handicraft skills, making that particular thing was really not that simple. He waved his hand, and a group of young eunuchs immediately understood and came to clean up.

The ninth day of the first month of the first year of Tianqi. Dawn had yet to break, and at this moment outside the Gate of Respecting Heaven, all the civil and military officials stood silently waiting in the gray darkness, accompanied only by the orange torchlight flickering around them in the north wind.

No one made a sound, no one made the slightest move. They all stood motionless, as if frozen in place by the cold winter, or as if solidified in a single moment of history.