Chapter 136: I Desire to Make the Sun and Moon Shine Again from the Darkness (Must-Subscribe Chapter, Monthly Tickets Requested!)

"I have no further questions. Do you have anything else you wish to ask me?"

The moment these words left his mouth, Zhu Youjian let out a silent "Oh crap" in his head, instantly realizing he had misspoken.

In a moment of carelessness, he had accidentally carried over a habit from job interviews in later ages.

As expected, the hall fell silent in an instant.

Gao Shiming and Wang Tiqian both turned their gazes in unison toward Lu Xiangsheng, their eyes filled with astonishment.

A subject questioning his sovereign?!

What kind of extraordinary honor was this? What degree of special favor?

Since ancient times, whenever a subject questioned his sovereign, had it not always become a much-told tale passed down through the ages?

Just who was this Lu Xiangsheng, that His Majesty would regard him with such exceptional esteem?

Lu Xiangsheng was clearly stunned by this unprecedented "final question" as well, standing frozen in place and remaining silent for a long while.

Several times he opened his mouth, only to close it again, as countless questions raced back and forth through his mind.

Ask about the new policies? Ask about the realm? Ask about the current state of affairs?

Each seemed reasonable, yet each also seemed to fall somewhat short.

Suddenly, a completely unrelated remark made by that old farmer when he entered the capital flashed into his mind.

"I don't know either. Anyway, the village head came to notify us that every single household had to hand over a bundle of straw."

—Therefore, the realm's ills must be swept away.

But what about after those ills were swept away? Would that old farmer still have to hand over a bundle of straw?

As this vague thought flashed past, Lu Xiangsheng hesitated no longer and spoke directly:

"Your Majesty desires to sweep away the ills of the realm. In that case... in Your Majesty's heart, what will the realm look like after those ills have been swept away?"

Brilliant!

Hearing this question, Wang Tiqian could not help but silently cheer in admiration.

This question was both concrete and grand, striking straight at the very heart of the matter at its root. It was asking about an emperor's ultimate ideal.

This was born of curiosity, yes, but even more so... it was the ultimate inquiry a follower poses to the one who leads the way.

Gao Shiming held his breath even tighter.

His Majesty had only told him to "turn back the raging tide before it crashes down, and shore up the great mansion before it collapses!"

But why the raging tide was crashing down, and what the great mansion would look like once it was shored up—of these things he actually had only a vague understanding. He had merely been doing everything His Majesty needed him to do, blindly and with all his might.

After asking this question, Lu Xiangsheng's mind held no more stray thoughts. He simply gazed earnestly at the Emperor upon the throne.

Every gaze in the hall converged upon a single point, awaiting the answer of this young Son of Heaven.

For a moment, Zhu Youjian himself fell into hesitation.

It was not that he did not know how to answer.

In later ages, having painted so very many "pies" for his teams, he could be said to know the tune well enough to hum it even if he could not compose the song.

He understood pie-painting all too well. At this point in time, in the Great Ming of 1627, no one understood pie-painting better than he did!

The question was merely: what kind of "pie" should he paint?

Common prosperity? Too far ahead of its time; no one would understand it.

The rule of the Three Dynasties? A platitude worn threadbare, hollow and empty.

He needed to paint a "pie" that both fit the understanding of this era and yet could slightly transcend it.

More importantly, painting a pie was not done merely for the sake of painting a pie.

It was to use it to express his own aspirations, and to find those who would walk the same path.

Only a brief moment passed, yet it also seemed to stretch on for a very long time.

Finally, Zhu Youjian slowly began to speak.

"Minister Lu, do you know that in a person's life, there are three deaths?"

He paused briefly, and without waiting for Lu Xiangsheng to answer, continued speaking on his own.

"The first death is the simplest. Heaven's mandate has its constants; whether one meets calamity or reaches the end of one's natural years, the physical form decays, and the soul returns to Heaven and Earth. This may be called the 'death of the body.'"

"The second death requires a hundred years. After the body dies, kin and old friends hold one in their hearts. Yet as the years flow by, those who knew you either forget or themselves wither away. Once everyone in this world who knew you has passed on, then all worldly attachments—gratitude and grudges, love and hate, old ties and affections—all scatter like mist and clouds. This may be called the 'death of feeling.'"

Zhu Youjian swept his gaze over everyone present, his tone growing heavier.

"But the third death—that one must consult the annals of history to know. A human life of a hundred years passes in a flash. If in this world one has established no lasting merit, produced no defining body of thought, if one's name is obscure and one's deeds are few, then the histories will record nothing. A thousand years hence, who will still know that this person ever walked the earth? This may be called the 'death of name.'"

After Zhu Youjian finished speaking, the great hall was utterly silent.

Gao Shiming, Wang Tiqian, and Lu Xiangsheng—all three were carefully savoring these words.

This discourse was unprecedented, yet it struck straight into the human heart.

The Confucians had the saying, "All men must die, but some deaths are weightier than Mount Tai, while others are lighter than a goose feather." They also had the discourse on the Three Immortals: "The highest is to establish virtue; next, to establish merit; next, to establish words." All of these discussed matters of life and death.

Yet His Majesty's doctrine of the "three deaths" added a layer in between—the death of feeling. While unprecedented, it also progressed step by step with ever-deepening profundity.

It laid bare the great terror between life and death with vivid and penetrating clarity.

And thus, it made the necessity of ultimately leaving one's name in the annals of history all the more apparent.

Only...

If a person has three deaths, then what of... a nation?

They were all intelligent people. If this brilliant exposition was merely the prelude, then how magnificent must the true answer be?!

The three men in the hall could not help but hold their breath once more, awaiting His Majesty's next words.

Just as expected, after pausing for a moment, Zhu Youjian continued.

"And a nation, likewise, has three deaths!"

He abruptly rose to his feet, descended the imperial steps, his voice ringing like struck metal!

"The final death of a state is the death of its name!"

"The Zhou enfeoffed what were called eight hundred vassal lords — where are they now? Since the Xia and Shang, how many kingdoms and states once stood thick upon the land? Today, how many of their names can we even remember?"

Zhu Youjian swept his gaze around the hall and let it settle on Lu Xiangsheng's face.

"The second-to-last death is the death of the state itself!"

"When the capital is breached, or the ancestral temples are destroyed, or the last man who would resist lays down his weapon, or the final inch of national soil falls into enemy hands — then a dynasty, a state, comes to its end!"

Zhu Youjian walked back toward Lu Xiangsheng, his eyes blazing like torches, and asked in a low, weighted voice:

"Then tell me — when does a state suffer its first death?"

The three men in the hall could not help holding their breath.

The death of the state — that was only the second death?

What the first death was — the answer was already on the verge of bursting forth.

Gao Shiming opened his mouth, then closed it again, and simply turned his gaze toward Lu Xiangsheng.

This seemed to be His Majesty giving the answer, but was it not also yet another test for Lu Xiangsheng?

Lu Xiangsheng felt goosebumps rise all over his body. The Emperor's gaze seemed to carry actual heat, as though his face were being seared by fierce flames.

Only after a long moment did he force out a reply through a parched throat:

"This subject... this subject believes that when a state's good faith and righteousness have utterly vanished, when the hearts of the people are wholly lost — though the territory remains intact and a million men stand under arms, it is no more than..."

He gritted his teeth and said, "No more than... dry bones in a tomb!"

"Exactly!" Zhu Youjian clapped his hands together and barked the word.

He stepped forward again, now nearly face to face with Lu Xiangsheng, and pressed him aggressively:

"Then how much hope do the common people of this realm still hold for our Great Ming?"

"When they see a petty clerk or a government runner, do they see them as father and mother — or as bandits and foes?"

He paused slightly, and every word fell like a hammer of a thousand catties, pounding ruthlessly against Lu Xiangsheng's heart.

"Our Great Ming, here and now — is it dead, or is it not yet dead?"

A faint tremor ran through Lu Xiangsheng's whole body. His lips quivered, but not a single word came out.

He wanted to say "not yet dead," yet here at the very feet of the Son of Heaven, in the capital region itself, the people's livelihood was already in ruin and officialdom so rotten — what then of Hebei? What of Henan? What of the entire realm?

He wanted to say "already dead," yet ten years of bitter study by the cold window, five years as an official — was not everything he had learned, everything he had done, all for the sake of this state? When he governed Linqing, when he governed Daming Prefecture, did the common people not smile warmly upon him, did they not look upon him as a second father and mother?

Those experiences, flashing through his mind like a revolving lantern, now all turned into a silent inquisition.

But Zhu Youjian had no intention of letting him answer that question.

He flung his sleeve sharply, turned, and walked two slow paces, finally coming to a halt beside the imperial throne.

The eyes of the three men in the hall followed his figure.

Zhu Youjian drew a deep breath, then turned his head back, his gaze sweeping over the three of them and finally resting on Lu Xiangsheng's agitated face.

"In my view, Great Ming... perished long ago!"

"The Great Ming of today is no more than a centipede with a hundred legs — dead but not yet stiff!"

"And in the midst of this, palace eunuchs, ennobled merit-families, imperial princes, corrupt officials, venal clerks, and evil gentry — what they gnaw upon is nothing but the corpse of Great Ming!"

These words, once spoken, split the heavens and shook the earth.

Gao Shiming and Wang Tiqian turned ashen white. As for Lu Xiangsheng, he stood frozen to the spot as though struck by lightning.

Zhu Youjian seated himself upon the dragon throne with a bold, sweeping motion and spoke, weighing each word:

"Thus, Minister Lu asked me: after the ills of the age are swept away, what manner of realm is the realm I hold in my heart?"

"The answer, put simply, is this."

"It is no more than the people trusting their officials, and the officials cherishing their people. No more than the law established above and commands carried out below. No more than... seeking that our Great Ming rise again from death, and emerge from darkness back into light!"

"This answer of mine — has Minister Lu heard it clearly?"

Lu Xiangsheng stood where he was and did not reply.

After a long while, he drew a deep breath, stepped back, straightened his robes and cap, and then, facing the young Son of Heaven upon the throne, performed a grand obeisance of utter gravity and flawless form.

When he raised his head again, his eyes were rimmed entirely red, yet their light was startlingly bright.

His voice was steady; he simply spoke in a tone of absolute earnestness:

"That Heaven has given us such a sage sovereign — Great Ming is most fortunate, the myriad people are most fortunate!"

"This subject, Lu Xiangsheng..."

"— dares not refuse to die!"

Gao Shiming and Wang Tiqian, without prior agreement, stepped from the sides of the dais to the front and knelt down together.

"This subject (this slave) dares not refuse to die!"

Watching this scene from the dragon throne, Zhu Youjian pressed his lips tightly together, trying to steady his emotions.

Yet the surging tide of feeling, once roused, could no longer be calmed.

He leaned back against the throne, closed his eyes, and sighed in silence.

— This ambition: it is still a lie!

Emerge from darkness back into light?

Was it truly the Great Ming that he wished to restore?

What he truly wished to restore was always the China of later ages — that land he yearned for in his dreams, where the four seas were at peace.

That country which, for all its faults of one kind or another, had raised and nurtured him for over thirty years!

Only — in this whole realm, who could understand this ambition of his?

And this ambition — how could it possibly be achieved by a mere transmigrator like him!

He, Zhu Youjian, in this age, was in the end nothing but a solitary man, alone and without kin!