Chapter 17: You… Do Not Disappoint Me

On the twenty-fifth day of the eighth month, the second day since Zhu Youjian ascended the throne — morning.

Zhang Weixian, Duke of Ying, followed a young eunuch as he walked along the Thousand-Step Corridor.

Today was no regular court day, yet the hundred officials had all arrived early at their offices to sit their shifts; the Thousand-Step Corridor leading straight to the imperial palace lay utterly empty.

The post-rain morning mist had yet to fully disperse, shrouding the towering palace walls in a grey haze.

In the distance, the outline of Chengtian Gate loomed and faded within the fog, like a silent colossal beast, crouching, ineffable.

The sky above this Forbidden City had, in the span of a single night, changed its hue — only no one knew whether what followed would be clear or rain.

Barely an hour ago, he had just arrived at the Rear Military Commission to sit his shift, and had casually finished off the scant official business at hand.

His colleagues in the office were gathered together in the hall, the scalding tea just steeped, its dense fragrance not yet unfurled.

Then the young eunuch from the palace burst in like a gust of wind and, in a shrill voice, delivered an oral decree: His Majesty summons the Duke of Ying to an audience.

In that instant, the entire main hall of the Rear Military Commission fell so silent one could hear a pin drop.

Every gaze among the ennobled aristocracy swiveled in unison and fixed upon him — a mix of shock, envy, probing curiosity, and a trace of fear impossible to conceal.

The news of Wei Zhongxian's suicide by hanging the day before had struck the officialdom of the capital like a magnitude-eight earthquake, leaving everyone reeling and disoriented.

Before going to office this morning, his good-for-nothing son Zhang Zhiji had been gesticulating excitedly in front of him, spittle flying, spouting things like "a wise sovereign has come again, the traitor has lost his head," his tone all but itching to submit a memorial at once and sweep up every last eunuch villain in one net.

Yet Zhang Weixian felt only wave after wave of heart-pounding dread.

An entire night had passed, and the only one dead was Wei Zhongxian?

What of the Depot and Guard hawks and hounds spread throughout the court and beyond?

And what of those civil officials who, for glory and riches, had long since shattered their own backbones and offered them up to the Nine Thousand Years?

This new sovereign, a mere seventeen years of age — had his blade truly swung only this once?

It defied all reason.

Was this young Son of Heaven one who, "when men's passions hold something unbearable, then drew his sword and rose"?

Or was he one who "had long endured, and thus could accomplish great things"?

To endure or not to endure — that is the very difference between a ruthless hero and a cowardly bear…

For the sake of the realm, he hoped it was the former.

But for the sake of his own house, he would rather it were merely the latter.

Amid his tangled thoughts, the young eunuch leading the way ahead suddenly halted, bowing and stepping aside.

"My Lord Duke, His Majesty is presently receiving Guard Commander Tian of the Embroidered Uniform Guard within the hall. He requests that you rest a moment in the side hall."

Tian Ergeng?

Zhang Weixian's pupils contracted, almost imperceptibly.

On the second day of his reign, the Emperor had not first summoned the Grand Secretariat ministers, nor the heads of the Six Ministries and Nine Courts — but instead saw Wei Zhongxian's chief claw and fang first?

The unease in his heart grew heavier, yet his face betrayed nothing; he even put on a trace of genial warmth.

With the utmost naturalness, he drew from his sleeve a silver ingot weighing a full five taels and, without leaving a trace, pressed it into the young eunuch's hand.

"This young eunuch's face looks quite unfamiliar — may I ask how I should address you?"

His movements were fluid as drifting clouds and flowing water, his words warm and kindly; he had brought to bear the full skill of a veteran minister entrusted with the care of three reigns.

The young eunuch was no more than sixteen or seventeen. The moment the cold silver touched his palm, he flinched as though scalded by a live coal, his whole body shuddering.

His face flushed crimson in an instant, his eyes darting away; to accept was wrong, to refuse was wrong — he was so mortified he seemed on the verge of tears.

In the end, he gritted his teeth and said, "I am currently on duty at Qianqing Palace. Having received His Majesty's grace, I truly dare not accept this silver. My Lord… My Lord Duke, please take it back."

At these words, Ma Wenke inwardly heaved an immense sigh of relief, though he still turned his head aside, unable to bear looking at that gleaming white silver ingot any longer.

Watching that clear yet guilt-ridden expression, the last shred of wishful thinking in Zhang Weixian's heart vanished like smoke.

How was this possible — barely a single night!

The new Emperor's methods had already begun to alter the very rules of this palace?

A storm was gathering!

Inside Qianqing Palace.

Tian Ergeng, Left Commissioner-in-Chief of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, knelt upon the cold gold bricks, his forehead pressed tightly against the back of his hands, not daring to let out so much as a heavy breath.

He could clearly hear the frantic drumming of his own heart; every beat tugged at the veins throbbing on his forehead.

"So, this is your view of the realm as it stands today?"

From the dragon throne, the young new sovereign finally spoke.

His voice was calm, betraying neither pleasure nor anger, yet it pressed down like an invisible mountain, making the bones of Tian Ergeng's spine creak.

"Yes… yes, this is your subject's… your subject's shallow understanding. I beg… I beg Your Majesty's discerning judgment."

Tian Ergeng fought with all his might to control his voice, to keep it from trembling with fear.

Sweat had long since soaked through his inner garment, which clung cold and clammy to his back.

Zhu Youjian said nothing, merely regarding him in silence.

Tian Ergeng's reply fell somewhere between Wei Zhongxian's slickness and Wang Tiqian's pragmatism — it showed some insight, but not much.

But that hardly mattered.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard, in his mind, was no more than a blade to be used for now.

Whether the hilt of the blade was supremely clever was of no importance; so long as the blade was sharp enough and loyal enough, it was a good blade.

Though later, once the Embroidered Uniform Guard was restructured, a mediocrity like this would likely no longer be fit to remain.

Who to replace him with then…

Just as Tian Ergeng felt he was about to be crushed by this deathly stillness,

he suddenly sensed a gaze, keen as a blade, fixed intently on the back of his neck.

He dared not raise his head, and could only steal a swift glance from the corner of his eye.

One glance, and the blood in his veins nearly froze solid in an instant.

Damn it all, what was that bastard Luo Yangxing doing here!

Wasn't he a Centurion in the Embroidered Uniform Guard? Why was he wearing the uniform of the Imperial Guard today, and standing right beside the imperial desk?

That spot… only the most trusted of the trusted get to stand there…

In that moment, everything became blindingly clear in Tian Ergeng's mind!

He remembered the face of the Embroidered Uniform Guard's former chief, Luo Sigong — that visage of a man old and decayed, on the verge of death.

So… so he had already built a bridge to the new sovereign long ago!

Last night, he and Cui Yingyuan and the others were still plotting in secret how to offer their allegiance, never knowing that someone else had already paved a road straight to the imperial presence!

A chill, mingled with fear, envy, and despair, shot from his tailbone straight to the crown of his head.

It's over… it's all over…

Just then, a long, drawn-out sigh came from the dragon throne, cutting off his wild thoughts.

"Sit."

Tian Ergeng jolted, almost thinking he had misheard.

He looked up blankly, meeting the Emperor's pair of fathomless eyes.

Not daring to think further, he hastily gave thanks for the grace and gingerly moved to a low stool to the side, perching on it with only half his backside, his body still held in that taut posture ready to drop to his knees at any moment.

"Do you know why Wei Zhongxian hanged himself?" Zhu Youjian lifted his teacup and gently nudged the floating leaves aside, as if asking about the most ordinary thing in the world.

Tian Ergeng's heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, he immediately slid to his knees and kowtowed, his head pounding the floor like a pestle.

"To answer Your Majesty! That wretch… that wretch knew his crimes were monstrous, that he defied Heaven's will above and brutalized the people below. His evils were overflowing, and even death could not redeem him! He…"

"I was the one who told him to hang himself."

The Emperor's offhand remark struck like a thunderbolt from the highest heavens, slamming down onto the top of Tian Ergeng's head.

Every curse and every word of loyalty he had been about to utter jammed instantly in his throat. He froze there, like a weathered stone statue, his very thoughts grinding to a halt.

Zhu Youjian set down his teacup. The lid clinked against the rim with a crisp click — a sound that was piercingly harsh in the deathly silence of the great hall.

"The name 'Nine Thousand Years' is known throughout the realm. If I did not kill him, the people's hearts could not be united, and the law of the land could not be established."

He paused, his gaze falling upon Tian Ergeng, who had by now completely lost his wits, and his tone turned cold and somber.

"Then what… should I do about the 'Five Tyrants'? That name — I heard it like thunder piercing my ears even back when I was at the Prince Xin Residence."

"Your Majesty, spare my life! Your Majesty, spare my life!"

Tian Ergeng's psychological defenses shattered completely in that instant. He threw all caution aside and kowtowed madly. His forehead slammed against the hard golden bricks with dull thuds, and in moments it was a bloody, mangled mess.

"Spare you?" A cold, mocking curve tugged at the corner of Zhu Youjian's mouth. "Perhaps, Commissioner-in-Chief Tian, it is time you cleaned house within your own ranks as well."

The sound of kowtowing stopped abruptly.

Tian Ergeng jerked his head up and stared at the Emperor in disbelief.

On his blood-smeared face, bewilderment first appeared, then was swiftly overtaken by a wild ecstasy of having survived a catastrophe.

But just as quickly, that wild ecstasy was crushed down by an even deeper, more profound terror.

The muscles of his entire face contorted, his expression becoming grotesque in the extreme.

Zhu Youjian paid no heed to his expression and merely raised a hand lightly.

Outside the door, a young eunuch immediately understood. With practiced ease, he walked in, carrying in his hands the four treasures of the study and a stack of blank forms.

The young eunuch gently placed the items on the floor before Tian Ergeng, then withdrew as silently as he had come.

Zhu Youjian pursed his lips toward the pile of paper and brush.

"Fill it out. The list of the eunuch faction members — as you see it in your mind."

Tian Ergeng stretched out his hand — the very hand that had tortured countless court officials in the Imperial Prison and issued countless arrest warrants — but now it trembled like a leaf in an autumn gale. Several times, he failed to grip the sable-hair brush.

At last, he grasped the brush.

For the first name, he thought for a very, very long time — so long that his sweat dripped onto the rice paper, blurring a patch of ink.

Finally, he gritted his back teeth until they nearly cracked and wrote down the name Cui Chengxiu.

After writing that name, it was as if all the strength had been drained from him — and as if all his shackles had been cast off.

Hell, better my fellow Daoist dies than this poor Daoist here!

His brush tip no longer hesitated. One familiar name after another — former allies, brothers, fair-weather friends — flowed from his brush without the slightest delay.

In barely an hour, the list was already densely filled.

Zhu Youjian took the list, still faintly warm yet bone-chillingly cold, gave it a cursory glance, then gathered it together with two other lists that had long been prepared.

He waved his hand again.

"Have Wang Tiqian come in."

Moments later, the newly appointed Director of the Eastern Depot, Wang Tiqian, entered with his head lowered and quickened steps, then knelt to the floor.

"Both of you, sit."

Zhu Youjian fell into a long, brooding silence. The atmosphere in the great hall grew oppressively tense.

Suddenly, he spoke. "Gao Shiming, draft the edict."

At these words, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows within the hall — none other than the seal-holding eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, Gao Shiming.

Zhu Youjian's fingers began to tap rhythmically on the imperial desk as he slowly articulated the plan he had been pondering for days.

"Proclaim the decree."

"First: All noble titles — Duke, Marquis, Count, and the like — conferred upon the Wei and Madam Ke factions are to be stripped. All those within their patronage who received grace appointments in the Embroidered Uniform Guard or were promoted to official posts are to be dismissed from office, and their family properties confiscated."

"Second: Within the capital's inner eunuch agencies, the Eastern Depot, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard, all those notorious in reputation, guilty of corruption and perverting the law, and who have aroused great public outrage — the three of you shall jointly draw up a list. They too shall be dismissed and their properties confiscated."

"Once the list is finalized, divide them into two categories according to the severity of their crimes. The first category — the utterly vicious with mountains of blood debts — are all to be banished to Qiongzhou in Hainan. The second category — those with lesser crimes, still amenable to reform — are all to be stripped of office and reduced to commoner status."

At this point, he paused abruptly, as if recalling something, and a trace of an inexplicable smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, and for Wei Zhongxian's family — leave them a hundred qing of poor farmland outside the capital. Everyone dismissed from office to commoner status can be dumped there. Let them till their own land and feed themselves."

"I personally promised Eunuch Wei this yesterday. A promise must be kept."

Having said this, his gaze flashed like lightning as he fixed it directly upon Wang Tiqian and Tian Ergeng below the dais.

"I know that corruption runs deep throughout the realm, and the rot is worst within the Depot and Guard — filth and mire festering, rotted clean to the root."

"For this confiscation, the two of you shall each dispatch trusted men from your own staffs. You will operate in parallel and keep watch on each other."

"At every household seized, someone from the other side must be present. All gold, silver, coin, land deeds, and title contracts — every item — shall be registered in the ledgers without the slightest omission or error, sealed on the spot, and delivered into the privy purse."

Here he let out a long sigh, his voice growing distant and drifting.

"This is the first time I have ever set you to a task. Do not… disappoint me."

The words were feather-light, spoken low, sounding for all the world like gentle counsel, with not the faintest hint of punishment in them.

Yet every hair on Wang Tiqian's and Tian Ergeng's bodies stood on end. They did not dare hesitate an instant. They kowtowed at once and bellowed their assent, their voices hoarse and steely.

"This subject — this slave — obeys the decree! He shall not fail the trust Your Majesty has placed in him!"

Zhu Youjian waved his hand. Gao Shiming understood at once and led Wang and Tian to a side hall to discuss that list of palace eunuchs and Depot and Guard officers.

Silence settled once more over the great hall.

Zhu Youjian rubbed his face vigorously, then picked up the bronze mirror and practiced several expressions before he spoke toward the outside of the hall:

"Have the Duke of Ying enter."