Chapter 40: Heaven's Rain Must Fall

The autumn rain in Beijing arrives far too quickly.

One moment the bright sun blazed overhead; in the blink of an eye, black clouds pressed down upon the city.

The gusting wind carried the smell of earth; a downpour could break loose at any moment.

The Duke of Ying, Zhang Weixian, sat upright in his sedan chair, his brow furrowed like a river gorge.

The many voices he had heard these past few days now wove together in his mind into a tangled net.

"Your Grace, His Majesty has newly established the Valiant Guard Camp, and among its three thousand men there is not a single son of the ennobled houses. What does this mean?"

"Our fortunes rise and fall with the dynasty — can it be that His Majesty no longer trusts us?"

"You are a veteran of three reigns and bask in imperial favor. Please, plead our case before His Majesty!"

The anxious, frightened faces of the ennobled flashed before his eyes one after another.

And then, just as quickly, they were replaced by the young, impassioned, hopeful face of his son, Zhang Zhiji.

"Father! His Majesty is a sovereign the likes of which appears but once in an age. This is the Heaven-sent chance for our Great Ming to cut out its deep-rooted ills and be reborn!"

"Burning the memorials in the great hall — that was magnanimity. Gracefully binding the Grand Secretaries to him — that was winning hearts."

"Selecting officers on the parade ground — that was thunderous authority. Taking personal command of military power — that was decisiveness!"

"Father, scan the annals of history: how does His Majesty, at the start of his reign, fall short in the slightest compared to the First Emperor of Qin or Emperor Wu of Han? You must hesitate no longer!"

Two utterly different voices, two utterly different sets of expectations — like two great mountains, they pressed down on him until he could scarcely breathe.

"Ah..."

Zhang Weixian let out a long sigh, feeling the old wound in his knee begin to throb dully again, and even the old injuries along his waist and back joined in silent protest.

This rack of old bones could predict wind and rain better than the Directorate of Astronomy ever could.

The sedan chair slowly came to a halt. He lifted the curtain, and a shrill voice slipped inside.

"Your Grace!" Ma Wenke, a eunuch attendant before the imperial presence, came trotting over, his face wreathed in smiles as he hurried forward. "At last, Your Grace, you have come!"

A gentle smile on his face, Zhang Weixian unobtrusively drew a ten-tael silver ingot from his sleeve and, with the most natural of motions, pressed it into the eunuch's hand.

It had a most satisfying weight.

Ma Wenke's face instantly flushed scarlet. He darted an involuntary glance left and right, but in the end, he still accepted it with his sleeve.

His movements were a touch flustered, and he nearly dropped the heavy ingot onto the ground, but he managed it far better than the raw clumsiness he had shown three days ago.

"Your Grace's favor with His Majesty runs deep indeed," he said, his smile growing a few degrees more genuine. "Summoned only three days past, and now today His Majesty is thinking of you again."

He paused, lowered his voice, and leaned in closer. "We must hurry. His Majesty... is waiting rather urgently."

Qianqing Palace loomed in the distance.

Before he even reached the hall, Zhang Weixian was brought up short by the sight before him.

Across the broad vermilion stairway terrace, several hundred desks had been arranged in an orderly, scattered fashion.

Three hundred strapping men sat upright and rigid, heads bent over the desks, writing with furious speed.

Their expressions varied: some scratched their heads and tugged at their ears, some glanced furtively left and right; only a scant few were focused and intent, their brushes flying.

And the Son of Heaven of the Great Ming, Zhu Youjian, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, just behind a hulking man built like a black iron pagoda, leaning forward slightly and watching the answers flowing from his brush with keen interest.

As if sensing the gaze upon his back, Zhu Youjian slowly straightened and turned around.

Their eyes met, and a brilliant smile instantly blossomed across his face — sincere and gentle, exactly as it had been three days before.

"The Duke has come at last!"

He strode quickly down the terrace and, with warm familiarity, grasped Zhang Weixian by the arm, his grip steady and firm. "Three days without seeing you, and I have missed you sorely!"

"Come, let us talk inside the hall."

And so saying, he gave Zhang Weixian no chance to perform the proper courtesies, but half-supported, half-guided him into Qianqing Palace.

Sovereign and subject took their seats, and a junior eunuch served fragrant tea.

Immediately after, the senior eunuch Gao Shiming personally brought forward two long, narrow brocade wraps.

Zhu Youjian took them and, with a gentle air, presented them to Zhang Weixian.

"When last I saw you, Duke, I observed that you seemed to have some difficulty walking, and it has weighed on my mind. Could it be that you suffer from the impediment of wind-damp paralysis?"

"I specially ordered the Directorate of Imperial Tailoring to prepare two medicinal wraps. Inside are herbs to invigorate the blood and dispel cold, and they have been warmed with heated stones for two hours. Duke, try them quickly, and see if they bring you a measure of relief."

As he spoke, he personally spread one of the warm wraps across Zhang Weixian's knee, then gestured for Gao Shiming to tie the other around the Duke's lower back.

A wave of warmth, tinged with the faint fragrance of medicinal herbs, instantly dispelled the chill from his knees and back.

Zhang Weixian was quite at a loss.

The sovereign's grace is weighty as a mountain, but such meticulous and thoughtful care was something he had never once encountered across three reigns.

"Your Majesty... this old subject..." For a moment, words failed him.

Zhu Youjian, however, cut him off with a smiling wave of his hand. "The reason I asked you here today, Duke, is that I wish for you to review the examination questions I have drafted for the Valiant Guard Camp. I intend to use them to select the Company Commanders and Platoon Officers."

He motioned for a junior eunuch to hand over the dossier, then continued: "However, after all, I have never personally served in the ranks. My talk of strategy on paper may only invite ridicule. I need you, Duke, to vet them for me."

Zhang Weixian hastily accepted the papers and bowed. "This old subject's eyes are dim with age. I must wear my spectacles to see clearly, and beg Your Majesty's pardon for the disrespect."

"Duke, please, look without any such worry."

Only then did Zhang Weixian carefully draw a cloth pouch from his breast, take out two lenses ground from crystal, and tie them behind his ears with a fine cord.

This was the first time since his transmigration that Zhu Youjian had seen eyeglasses from the Ming dynasty, and he found them utterly fascinating.

A chain of related ideas instantly flashed through his mind.

Telescopes, microscopes, mercury mirrors...

Military affairs, medicine, silver!

No rush, no rush. Once tomorrow's court assembly was over, he would ask where the finest lens-grinding craftsmanship was to be found these days, and first summon a few artisans to conduct some experiments.

Personnel matters must be handled, military authority must be seized, and this tree of technological knowledge could not be left to fall behind either.

The dossier contained only four questions, touching on strategy, tactics, morale, and logistics — concise and to the point, yet striking straight at the heart of each matter.

Zhang Weixian read with excruciating slowness, but his mind churned like a tempestuous sea.

Having spent decades on duty in the Five Chief Military Commissions, though he had never truly led troops, he was thoroughly versed in military affairs.

How could he fail to see the difference between these examination questions and the standards of the military examinations?

One was hollow; the other, solid.

One was lost in the clouds and mist; the other struck straight at the core.

When he had finished reading, Zhang Weixian slowly removed his spectacles and placed them back in their cloth pouch.

At that moment, the warming packs on his knees and at his waist were steadily radiating heat, soothing his chronic cold-leg ailment and his old lumbar injury.

Yet his heart was being tormented among a host of thoughts, a surge of mingled emotions overwhelming him all at once.

In this world, could there truly be such a thing as heaven-sent genius?

He thought of the anxiety of the ennobled nobles, thought of the wait-and-see stance of the civil officials, and finally, thought of his son's eyes — eyes that blazed with fire, brimming with expectation.

"Father, His Majesty is such a brilliant sovereign…"

Yes, such a brilliant sovereign.

But precisely because he was such a brilliant sovereign, it made him feel a terror that seeped deep into his very bones.

What if — what if, even if only one chance in ten thousand?

He drew a deep breath. In his heart, a decision had already been made.

He raised his head and looked directly into the Emperor's eyes, which still held a trace of a smile. His voice was not loud, but every word struck like a bell.

"This subject presumes greatly, and dares to ask Your Majesty… are you, too, in fear of something?"

The air within the warm chamber seemed to freeze solid in that instant.

The smile on Zhu Youjian's face stiffened inch by inch.

What was I in fear of?

Of course I know what I am in fear of!

I am in fear of Coal Hill, seventeen years from now!

I am in fear of the natural disasters and man-made calamities about to sweep across the realm!

I am in fear of the resistance and conspiracies I will encounter in the course of reform!

But…

How is it that even you know I am in fear?

— Zhang Weixian, Duke of Ying of the Great Ming.

Are you loyal, or are you treacherous?!

Zhang Weixian, however, paid no heed to the Emperor's lapse of composure. He continued speaking on his own, though his voice trembled slightly.

"Your Majesty ascended the throne at the hour of noon on the twenty-fourth. Before the hour of shen had arrived, you had already ordered the traitor Wei to hang himself."

"On the twenty-sixth, you attended court and took up governance. Your acuity in political affairs and your insight into the people's condition astounded every official in the court."

"Thereafter, you burned the memorials in the great hall to pacify the civil officials, and bound the Grand Secretaries to you with grace to soothe men's hearts."

"Now, throughout the capital region, from the hundred officials above to the common people below, who does not believe that a sage sovereign has appeared in the world?"

Zhu Youjian listened with rapt attention, his face as still as deep water.

He knew the real words were about to come.

Just as expected, after speaking this passage, Zhang Weixian shakily rose to his feet.

The warming pack on his knees slipped silently to the floor with a soft thud.

He straightened his robes and cap, then slowly knelt before Zhu Youjian, performing a grand ritual of sovereign and subject with the utmost solemnity.

"What is the meaning of this, Duke!" Zhu Youjian's heart seized with alarm, and he abruptly rose to help the old man up.

But the moment his hand touched the old man's arm, he discovered that this minister, already past sixty, knelt on both knees as steady as a mountain, utterly immovable.

Zhang Weixian slowly raised his head. His voice was aged, yet every word was as clear and hard as iron.

"This subject has served three reigns and, unworthily, was entrusted as a guardian of the late Emperor. Now I am but a candle guttering in the wind, my years nearly spent."

"There are words that others dare not speak, cannot speak, will not speak — but this old minister cannot but speak them!"

He paused, as if gathering the force of a thunderbolt.

"The forbidden precincts of the palace may appear to be under strict guard, yet for the civil and military officials of the court, the exchange of information has never been a secret."

"On the very day of Your Majesty's ascension, you ordered the old retainers of the Prince Xin Residence to garrison the inner palace. This could still be said to be a precaution against the traitor Wei."

"When you reorganized the rosters of the Imperial Guard and relocated the families of the inner attendants to the imperial manors, the various officials were already whispering among themselves."

"Then yesterday, Your Majesty personally visited the drill ground, selected soldiers by martial skill, and in an instant the Valiant Guard Camp was established, three thousand troops in your grasp — and the Ministry of War and the Five Chief Military Commissions had no room to interject!"

"By this point, the court may appear calm on the surface, but beneath it, dark currents are already surging!"

With every sentence Zhang Weixian spoke, Zhu Youjian's expression darkened a shade further.

He had never held any extravagant hopes about the secrecy of the palace walls.

After all, having just ascended the great throne, the authority established by thunderous measures had only temporarily suppressed the deep-rooted, tangled abuses — it was far from reversing the entrenched decline that had been three feet of ice, not formed in a single day.

But he had never imagined that his every move would be seen through so thoroughly by the entire court of civil and military officials.

No wonder — no wonder!

From yesterday to today, not a single routine memorial concerning the Valiant Guard Camp had been submitted.

So it turned out that everyone was waiting to see what move this "sage sovereign" would make next!

The old man caught his breath slightly, but his voice grew ever more impassioned.

"Every single act, in the eyes of the court's civil and military officials, is the sovereign suspecting his subjects!"

"Yet if the sovereign suspects his subjects, how can the subjects not fear their sovereign?"

"When sovereign and subject suspect one another, how can state affairs be conducted? How can the realm be governed?"

He finished speaking, then once again pressed his forehead deeply to the floor.

"Every word this subject has spoken comes from the depths of his heart, every character is utterly sincere."

"Yet to pry into the inner palace and presume to discuss His Majesty's intentions — these crimes admit no pardon. I beg Your Majesty to pronounce my punishment!"

Inside the great hall, one could have heard a pin drop.

Zhu Youjian slowly sat back down on the cushioned couch. His heart was ice-cold, yet a nameless fire was also rising within him.

This — this was the true court, true politics!

But so what?

His own life and safety were his first priority after crossing over. No one could shake that!

He looked at Zhang Weixian prostrate on the floor. That head of white hair, against the mirror-smooth gold bricks, was piercingly harsh to the eye.

After a long moment, Zhu Youjian let out a long breath and suppressed the turmoil in his heart.

"My Lord Duke, rise. We pardon you of all offense."

His voice carried a deep, bone-deep weariness.

"You dared to remonstrate bluntly to Our face. Are We, then, the sort of ruler with no breadth of spirit?"

Hearing this, Zhang Weixian slowly straightened his torso, yet he remained kneeling and did not rise.

"I thank Your Majesty for your heavenly grace."

He lifted his head, and within those murky old eyes, two beams of terrifying, piercing light suddenly blazed forth.

"But what this subject spoke of today does not stop at the suspicion between sovereign and minister!"

Zhu Youjian's pupils sharply contracted.

Zhang Weixian's voice suddenly rose, like a great bronze bell resounding, deafening and soul-stirring!

"Your Majesty is the supreme sovereign, upon whom Heaven's mandate rests!"

"When the Son of Heaven is wrathful, a million corpses lie strewn; a single word from the Son of Heaven can determine rise or ruin!"

"All under Heaven is the sovereign's land; the power over life and death, granting and taking, all resides in the sacred heart!"

"Among the court officials, the meritorious nobles, and the hundred functionaries — those who are useful, Your Majesty employs; those who are unworthy, Your Majesty dismisses!"

"Select the worthy, appoint the capable, rectify the administration of officials — the affairs of state will eventually see a day when they can be set right, the realm will eventually see a time when it can be saved!"

"As for mere suspicion between sovereign and minister — so long as Your Majesty is clear in reward and punishment, blending grace with awe, the day will come when the ice melts and the snow dissolves!"

His eyes blazed with a terrifying brightness, as if he were burning up his very life.

"What this subject truly fears today is that, because of this fear, Your Majesty will henceforth govern men through craft and control men through intimidation!"

"If Your Majesty trusts only in clever tricks, only in methods, then you abandon the root to chase the branch, and tear down the Great Wall with your own hands!"

"Your Majesty!" He gazed at Zhu Youjian, and a tremor of earnest entreaty entered his voice.

"This subject knows the state's affairs are beset with hardship and men's hearts are unfathomable. Yet in all the vast realm, how could Your Majesty alone be the only one racking his brains and exhausting his spirit?"

"Among the civil and military officials of the court, the dukes, marquises, and meritorious nobles — some may be mediocrities, some may be corrupt — yet how could there be none willing to lay down their lives for Your Majesty?"

"When a sage ruler takes the throne, the atmosphere is renewed, new policies are about to be established — throughout the realm, loyal and steadfast men willing to be crushed to powder for the Great Ming are craning their necks in expectation, as numerous as carp swimming upriver!"

"What they await is not Your Majesty's methods, not Your Majesty's stratagems, but Your Majesty's trust!"

"This old subject only hopes that Your Majesty can hold fast to your original heart, walk the kingly path, treat others with sincerity, and govern the state with impartiality! Do not, because of a moment's hardship, walk the old road of the Shenzong Emperor, sulking against your ministers, sulking against the realm!"

"Your Majesty, I beg you — trust the realm, trust men's hearts, trust in the integrity that three hundred years of the Great Ming's nurturing of scholars has fostered!"

When he finished this torrent of words, Zhang Weixian was gasping for breath, yet his eyes still blazed with that terrifying light.

He pressed his forehead heavily against the cold floor tiles once more, producing a dull thud.

"This old subject has said all he has to say. I beg Your Majesty to pronounce my punishment!"

Seated on the cushioned couch, Zhu Youjian listened to these words, his brows deeply furrowed, and said nothing.

At that moment, outside the hall, the long-brewing great rain finally arrived.

A fierce wind swept bean-sized raindrops, suddenly pouring in through the hall doors, whipping the beaded curtain before the throne into a wild frenzy, clattering and ringing like a pipa with its heartstrings snapped into chaos.

Upon the crimson dais, the several hundred examinees let out cries of alarm. Papers were sent flying through the air, ink was washed open by the rain, and the examination ground was instantly a scene of utter disarray.

The eunuchs shrieked in their shrill voices, shouting "Collect the papers!" The scene descended into chaos.

Yet all this clamor seemed unable to reach Zhu Youjian's ears.

In his eyes, only that solitary hand warmer remained on the floor.

Its bright imperial-yellow brocade, against the cold floor tiles, was like a lonely flame that had ceased to beat.