Chapter 123: The Fear of a Disturbed Timeline (Daily Life)

Once the wind rises in the capital, it never truly stops; as it swept past the corner towers, it let out a sound like a low moan.

The sky was a murky gloom, dark clouds pressing down upon the yellow tiles of the Forbidden City, the daylight dim and heavy.

"Hyah!"

The icy wind scraped across Zhu Youjian's cheeks, forcing him to narrow his eyes.

Behind him, a retinue of trusted eunuchs and guards followed closely.

No one knew that, in this moment, the young emperor's heart was wrapped in a tremendous panic.

Zhu Youjian had no destination; he simply spurred his horse onward by instinct, racing straight ahead.

Since his enthronement, he had pushed himself relentlessly, yet most of his efforts had been mere papering over cracks, shuffling personnel, and shifting things around.

The only measure that truly qualified as a major change was the new policies in the capital.

But the Ming had a population of over a hundred million — how large a ripple could new policies in the capital, affecting barely a million people, really stir up?

The lightning strike against Ligdan Khan that he had set in motion today — that was the first real move he had placed on the chessboard of East Asia.

— A move with no historical reference whatsoever.

What did "historical reference" mean?

In the strict sense, it was like the Battle of Dalinghe in history.

He could rely on foreknowledge, knowing exactly from which direction the Later Jin would attack, then station troops and stockpile grain in advance, array his forces in strict readiness, and steadily fight a defensive counteroffensive.

In a more fanciful sense, it was like those transmigration stories he had read in his previous life.

No matter how the protagonist stirred things up, Hong Taiji was fated, in the winter of the second year of Chongzhen, to detour through the Mongols, breach the border, and invade. The protagonist only needed to set an ambush at the Ji Garrison in advance and wait for him to walk right into the trap.

But now, neither of those two frames of reference existed anymore.

Striking out proactively, dividing the Mongol tribes, and contending with the Later Jin for allies on the steppe —

a strategy like this — he had never seen it, not in the original history, not even in fiction.

Would it be victory, or defeat?

He did not know.

If he won, how would Ligdan Khan react? Would that arrogant master of the Chahar, who had always been hostile to the Later Jin, now be pushed toward Hong Taiji by this move of his own?

Though that outcome would still be better than the entire Mongol realm falling wholesale to the Later Jin, the civil and military officials of the court did not know this history!

They would only think that he, this callow young Son of Heaven, did not know the height of heaven or the depth of earth, and had with his own hands delivered a vital potential ally straight to his greatest enemy!

His mother's —! When the time came, I'd be more wronged than Dou E!

And if he lost?

If he lost, what then? Would it only accelerate the collapse of the Mongol situation?

Would the backlash from the court officials and the Donglin faction who had entered the capital come even more ferociously?

And how would he have to adjust all his subsequent plans?

A string of questions gnawed at his heart like countless ants.

And what made his heart panic was far more than just the Mongol affair.

Even the appointment of Sun Chengzong as Supreme Commander of Ji-Liao was something he felt no real confidence about in his heart.

This era of the late Ming had no Yue Fei.

There simply did not exist a commander of such genius that you could entrust the entire fate of the nation to him and just go offline and reap the rewards.

Sun Chengzong, Yuan Chonghuan, Mao Wenlong, Lu Xiangsheng, Sun Chuanting, Hong Chengchou...

These men who had left illustrious names in history had only proven themselves at certain moments, in certain regions.

Not a single one of them had ever truly proven himself completely on the deadlocked board of the Great Ming.

But that was only logical — if even one man had fully proven himself, the Great Ming would not have met such an end.

As the wings of this butterfly — himself — continued to beat, the history he knew so well was growing more and more blurred.

Right and wrong, merit and fault — none of it had anything to do anymore with that Chongzhen Emperor who hanged himself on Coal Hill.

All glory and disgrace, rise and fall, now rested solely on the skill of him, this Yongchang Emperor.

This immense pressure of holding the fate of countless millions of lives and of Chinese civilization itself pressed down on his shoulders like a formless mountain.

"Shouldering the Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces" — easy to say!

In my previous life, the most I ever managed was the livelihoods of a few hundred people — I never even held a single person's life or death in my hands!

Amid the tangle of his thoughts, Zhu Youjian rode his horse past Huangji Hall, Zhongji Hall, and Jianji Hall.

The construction of these three great halls had begun during the Wanli era.

Silver, giant timbers, artisans — all told, they had cost tens of millions of taels of silver.

Under the somber sky, they still appeared grand and magnificent, their glazed tiles reflecting the faint light of day, cold and silent.

The Great Ming had perished, yet these three great halls had endured for four hundred years afterward.

Soon, Zhu Youjian passed by Qianqing Palace.

Since his transmigration, he had spent the vast majority of his time here.

Within this palace, he had reviewed memorial after memorial, received minister after minister, yet had left the palace only once — to inspect the Tengxiang Four Guards.

After that excursion, once he realized how cumbersome every trip outside the palace was, he had never left the palace again.

This tiny patch of ground was both his cage and his battlefield.

After passing Qianqing Palace, he exited Xuanwu Gate, and the distant Wan Sui Hill came into view.

Zhu Youjian cut diagonally across the foothills.

The Dishou Pavilion on the eastern slope was faintly visible; the crooked-necked tree outside the pavilion had already been ordered cut down the last time he climbed up here.

If he failed this time, Wan Sui Hill would have no place for him.

If, seventeen years from now, he still had to die, then better to die in the south.

Nanjing, Fujian, Guangzhou, Taiwan — just keep shouldering it all the way, and when there's nowhere left to retreat, find any random tree.

"Whoa—"

Zhu Youjian yanked the reins hard; his mount reared up, letting out a long neigh.

He lifted his head and gazed into the distance at the Gate of Northern Peace ahead.

That massive gate tower, under the dimming sky, stood like a silent giant.

Zhu Youjian simply watched it quietly, his fingers on the riding crop loosening one moment and tightening the next.

None of the attendants around him knew what he was thinking; they all kept silent. Only the horses, having galloped a stretch only to be halted again, snorted their displeasure.

The cold wind buffeted Zhu Youjian's robes, making them snap and flutter.

After a long silence, he suddenly turned around, his face composed once more.

"Without realizing it, I've ridden all the way here." Zhu Youjian smiled faintly, his expression betraying nothing out of the ordinary. "Just as well — since I'm passing by, I'll stop at the Directorate of Ceremonial and have Cao Huachun and the others brief me on the inner palace rectification. It'll save me the trouble of summoning them back and forth."

"Move out!" Zhu Youjian no longer hesitated. He swung his horse's head around and headed in the direction of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

The personal attendants behind him immediately roared their assent and followed close behind.

(Attached: Zhu Youjian's panicked flight route map. Total distance: 2,306 meters. Time on horseback: approximately 5 minutes.)

In the courtyard of the Directorate of Ceremonial, a group of young eunuchs had gathered in a circle beneath an old locust tree.

At the center of the crowd was a youth with a dark-complexioned face.

"Eunuch Wang, please don't refuse — this is just a small token of respect from this humble one."

A sharp-faced, monkey-jawed young eunuch, his face wreathed in smiles, was stuffing a small packet of candy wrapped in oilpaper into Wang Cheng'en's arms.

Wang Cheng'en waved his hands repeatedly, his face flushing bright red. "I can't, I really can't..."

Fang Zhenghua snatched the candy away and clapped the young eunuch on the shoulder.

"Now that's what I call having a good eye!"

"Your Grandpa Wang here is someone Old Ancestor Gao thinks highly of. For you lot to be able to latch onto him now — that's good fortune earned over several lifetimes!"

At these words, the crowd pressed in even closer, each one thrusting their hidden snacks and treats into Wang Cheng'en's and Fang Zhenghua's hands.

There were sweet-and-sour preserved plums, fragrant crispy fried beans, and even a north-city sesame cake that had been kept warm for most of the morning and was now faintly sour.

Wang Cheng'en was thoroughly embarrassed. He tugged at Fang Zhenghua's sleeve and whispered, "Eunuch Fang, that's enough, that's enough..."

Fang Zhenghua waved a hand, about to teach this simple, honest young brother a thing or two about palace rules, when his sharp eyes caught a flash of bright yellow entering through the gate.

His body reacted far faster than his brain.

"This slave kowtows to Your Majesty! May Your Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!"

The other young eunuchs were so startled they jumped. Without even having time to look, they all spun around and dropped to their knees, like wheat being scythed down!

"This slave (this servant) kowtows to Your Majesty! May Your Majesty live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!"

All sorts of snacks and treats scattered across the ground, rolling everywhere.

Zhu Youjian looked at this scene — so like a classroom full of students caught sneaking snacks in later generations — and in the end, a trace of amusement couldn't help but show on his face.

"All of you, rise."

At these words, the young eunuchs straightened their upper bodies, but all remained kneeling on the ground.

Zhu Youjian's gaze swept across the crowd and quickly found a familiar face.

With keen interest, he stepped forward and asked curiously, "What is your name?"

Wang Cheng'en did not dare be remiss. He had been in the palace for nearly a month now; no matter how dull-witted, he had learned the rules thoroughly.

"In reply to Your Majesty, this slave is Wang Cheng'en."

Zhu Youjian's brow lifted, and he couldn't help smiling.

"We remember you. You're that young fire-attendant who wrote in his exam paper that he wanted to eat meat!"

At these words, Wang Cheng'en was instantly overcome with mortification.

He knocked his head heavily against the ground. "This slave... this slave had only just entered the palace then, young and ignorant, spouting nonsense. I beg Your Majesty to forgive this offense!"

Zhu Youjian turned his head and looked at Gao Shiming beside him, asking with a smile, "Companion Gao, what rank did he achieve in last month's exam? Did he get his meat?"

Gao Shiming bowed, a smile on his face, and replied, "In reply to Your Majesty, this lad didn't live up to expectations. Last time he only placed forty-seventh. By the rules, there was no meat for him."

He paused, then continued, "However, seeing that Your Majesty was cheered that day by his amusing words, this subject took the liberty of awarding him an extra portion of meat."

"Ha ha ha ha!" Zhu Youjian burst into even louder laughter upon hearing this.

He shook his head and said to Gao Shiming, "Companion Gao, that is hardly the way of a proper teacher. A jade uncarved will not form a vessel. Blind indulgence will only harm him."

Gao Shiming smiled faintly, unafraid, and replied, "Your Majesty's lesson is correct. It was this subject's lack of thorough consideration."

"Since he had an extra portion of meat last time, let the instructors of the Inner Palace School give him some proper teaching." Zhu Youjian's tone shifted, carrying a hint of mischief. "If he cannot place in the top twenty in this month's exam, then give him ten strikes on the palm with the ferule — to repay that extra portion of meat he ate last time."

Gao Shiming could not suppress a smile and agreed with a grin.

Zhu Youjian cast a glance at Wang Cheng'en, who was prostrated on the ground.

—Is it you? Companion Wang of seventeen years hence?

Whether it is or isn't no longer matters. Study well and make progress every day. If you truly prove yourself capable, there will naturally be a place for you at Our side!

When the time comes, We'll hang in the middle, Companion Gao will hang on the left, and the spot on the right will be left for you.

Though finding three trees all in a row might be a bit difficult.

Zhu Youjian withdrew his gaze. After this round of inward self-amusement, the vexation and panic in his heart finally dissipated completely.

He straightened his robes and turned to walk toward the main hall of the Directorate of Ceremonial, his voice recovering the solemnity and calm of imperial authority.

"Come."

"Have Cao Huachun and the others all come to see Us. Today, We shall have a proper discussion about this matter of inner palace rectification."