Chapter 41: The Wind and the Scenery Are Best Viewed with a Broad and Far-Reaching Gaze

Zhu Youjian slowly shifted his gaze from that hand warmer and let it fall once more upon Zhang Weixian, who was prostrate on the floor.

"Is the Duke telling Us that We should not have transferred trusted men from Our princely establishment to guard the inner palace?"

His voice was calm, so calm that not a ripple could be heard, as though he were merely inquiring about the most ordinary of matters.

Zhang Weixian remained kneeling, his figure as motionless as a mountain, yet his voice came through clearly.

"No, Your Majesty."

"You have newly ascended the great throne. The palace is a place where dragons and fish intermingle, and the Wei traitor's partisans are everywhere. It is only right and proper that you should use men you trust to stabilize the forbidden precincts."

Zhu Youjian's eyebrows rose slightly, and he leaned forward a fraction.

"Then is it that We should not have reorganized the Imperial Guard rosters, nor relocated the household dependents of the inner attendants to the imperial estates?"

A trace of impatience had already crept into his voice.

"Not that either." Zhang Weixian shook his head.

"Among the Han Generals, those who have falsely claimed a place on the rolls are beyond counting. The night guard is slack, and the wicked mingle freely among them — this has been the case for far more than a day or two."

"The safety of the realm rests upon Your Majesty alone. How can you not check the incipient and guard against the subtle? Your Majesty's reorganization of the Imperial Guard and purge of the inner attendants are likewise only right and proper."

"A fine 'only right and proper'!"

Zhu Youjian's voice shot up abruptly; that fury could no longer be suppressed!

"In the Valiant and the Four Guards, those two camps, the men and horses are in chaos — old dotards and worthless boys make up half their number!"

"The capable sink to the lowest posts, while the incompetent sit high above on their desks!"

"We went in person to the parade ground, selected the finest troops, and re-established a new camp — is that also something We should not have done?!"

Yet, faced with the Son of Heaven's wrath, Zhang Weixian's reply remained as steady as before.

"Your Majesty, those two camps are the capital's elite troops, the Imperial Guard within the Imperial Guard. All under Heaven are watching."

"When the fighting strength of the Imperial Guard decays, so too decays the strength of the state. Your Majesty's thunderous measures to purge accumulated abuses and select outstanding talent are even more only right and proper!"

"Then what exactly are you trying to say?!"

Zhu Youjian could finally contain himself no longer. He shot up from the soft couch, his countenance suddenly ablaze with fury!

He looked down from his elevated position at the old man prostrate on the floor, his chest heaving violently.

Three successive "only right and propers," far from quelling his anger, had instead poured oil on the flames, making that perverse fire in his heart burn ever more fiercely!

If you think everything We have done is correct, that it is all only right and proper, then why did you say that We are afraid?

Why speak of sovereign and minister suspecting one another?

Why come here and put on this whole posture of risking death to remonstrate?!

Could it be that you, the grand Duke of Ying, the highest-ranking noble of the Great Ming, must also imitate those Spring and Autumn persuaders and play this game of startling speech to command attention?

Inside the great hall, only the emperor's ragged breathing and the sound of the rain rushing beyond the hall remained.

After a long while, Zhang Weixian slowly raised his head once more.

There was not a trace of fear on his face, only a deep, unshakeable weariness and sorrow.

"Your Majesty… this subject has already said it before."

"Whether it is rectifying the inner court or purging the Imperial Guard, these are all things that ought to be done."

"The nobles may clamor for a time, the hundred officials may murmur for a time — this so-called mutual suspicion between sovereign and minister, before Your Majesty's thunderous measures, can all be settled with the flick of a finger."

He let out a deep sigh, and those murky old eyes seemed to pierce through the throne before him and gaze into the distant past.

"This subject merely… this subject merely fears that Your Majesty will walk the same old road as the Shenzong Emperor."

Zhu Youjian raised an eyebrow, the fury in his heart subsiding a little.

Only then did he notice that Zhang Weixian had already brought up the Wanli reign for the second time.

Zhang Weixian's voice grew faint and distant, as if he were sinking into a long, drawn-out memory.

"This subject was born in the forty-fifth year of the Jiajing reign. At that time I was young and ignorant, and did not yet understand the hardships of state affairs."

"By the time this subject had grown a few years older, it was already the final years of the Longqing reign."

"The Shenzong Emperor appointed Lord Zhang Jiangling as Chief Grand Secretary. He implemented new policies, rectified the civil service, surveyed and measured the fields, and the Single Whip law was sung in praise throughout the land."

"The Great Ming of those days was truly a sight of boundless vitality — the state treasuries were full, and peace reigned within the four seas."

A look of yearning appeared on his face.

"Later, when the Shenzong Emperor assumed personal rule, although he abolished the new policies entirely, he could still be called a sage and enlightened Son of Heaven."

"He was diligent in governance, opened wide the channels of remonstrance, and even walked several li on foot to pray for rain when the capital region suffered a great drought. All subjects and commoners under Heaven were moved by their sovereign's grace."

"And yet… and yet from the fourteenth year of Wanli, when the succession struggle began, everything slowly, slowly changed."

A bitterness beyond words crept into Zhang Weixian's voice.

"Over the matter of establishing the heir apparent, the Shenzong Emperor engaged in a protracted tug-of-war with the assembled ministers. State affairs were increasingly neglected, personal memorials were kept in the palace without response, and vacancies among court officials went unfilled."

"In the end, it was as if he were in a fit of pique against the whole world, shutting himself away within that palace city, never willing to emerge again."

"A once sage and enlightened sovereign, upon encountering a slight setback, in the end became… became…"

As he reached this point, his lips quivered a few times, but in the end he still lacked the courage to utter that word.

He gasped heavily several times, as if this recollection had drained every last ounce of his strength.

"Your Majesty, in the thirty-odd years since this subject inherited his title, though called a Duke, I have in truth been little more than a prop for sacrifices and the bearing of ceremonial tallies."

"This subject is neither a statesman of governance like Zhang Jiangling, nor a peerless fierce general like Qi Shaobao."

"What virtue or ability does this subject possess, that he dares to serve as Your Majesty's backbone and courage?"

He raised his head and looked at Zhu Youjian with earnest sincerity.

"Every single measure Your Majesty has taken in these days since ascending the throne, each and every one, is the conduct of an enlightened sovereign as recorded in the histories."

"The decisiveness of your actions, the seasoned ruthlessness of your methods, the precision with which you grasp the hearts of men — these are wholly the temperament of a formidable overlord."

"This old subject has been wondering: for a sovereign so endowed by Heaven, how grand must the ambition within his breast truly be?"

"And such a grand ambition — in this present Great Ming, riddled with entrenched abuses, what fierce resistance and backlash would it not encounter?"

He drew a breath, his tone steeped in desolation.

"Your Majesty, consider: the Shizong Emperor was lost in the pursuit of immortality and did not attend court for twenty years, yet the officials remained obedient, and the realm still functioned."

"The Shenzong Emperor neglected governance for thirty years, leaving nearly half the official posts across the empire vacant, yet the officials still kept their hands bound, and the realm still muddled along in false peace."

"The court of our Great Ming today is precisely this grotesque spectacle."

"To accomplish a single thing is harder than scaling the heavens; but to do nothing, to drift along day by day, is light and effortless."

By this point, his speech was already tinged with a faint choke.

"Your Majesty, you are still so young, yet you possess such natural gifts, such strength of character."

"But if, in the future, as you press forward with new policies, you meet obstacle upon obstacle — the realm in uproar, the officials in unanimous censure —"

"Would you… would you then grow disheartened and disillusioned, and turn all that soaring ambition into disappointment and resentment toward the people of the world?"

"This subject's fear — all of it lies right here!"

As his words fell, Zhang Weixian prostrated himself upon the floor once more, his aged face already streaked with tears, his sobs choking off his voice.

The breath that Zhu Youjian had been holding tight in his chest suddenly drained away in that moment.

He watched the old man lying on the floor, his shoulders faintly trembling, and a hundred tangled emotions surged through his heart.

He had imagined countless possibilities — that Zhang Weixian had come on behalf of the noble faction to probe him, to bargain, even to threaten.

But the one thing he had never imagined was that what awaited him was such a baring of the heart, words ripped from the depths of the soul.

That so-called moral integrity of the Great Ming — he had seen little trace of it in the civil officials at court over the past few days.

He had never expected to see it today, in an old noble he had dismissed as merely eating and waiting to die.

Only…

Even if I grant, against all odds, that everything you said today came entirely from the heart —

what makes you think that I would turn into the Wanli Emperor's likeness just because of a few setbacks?

You cannot see the future.

But I — I have come back from the very heart of that future!

In Zhu Youjian's mind, Consort Dowager Liu's gentle eyes flashed once more.

"The human heart is precarious; the moral heart is subtle. Be refined, be single-minded, hold fast to the mean."

One was an old consort dowager from the Wanli era; the other, a veteran of three reigns, a minister entrusted with the dying emperor's charge.

These two elders, who had weathered the storms of three reigns, were both worried about the very same thing.

What kind of despairing sight had they witnessed during the Wanli era, to leave such deep-seated fear carved into their hearts?

The sound of rain seemed to grow louder, drumming against the glazed tiles, merging into a vast, roaring din.

Zhu Youjian did not try to help Zhang Weixian up again. He simply sat down cross-legged on the floor, directly opposite him.

First, he let out a long sigh, then shook his head with a rueful laugh.

"Duke of Ying, ah, Duke of Ying. For you to see me this way… truly, you underestimate me."

His voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange, penetrating quality, reaching Zhang Weixian's ears with perfect clarity.

"The Duke fears that I will grow disillusioned with this realm, is that it?"

"That the harder one strives to achieve, the greater the backlash, until one ends up utterly alone."

"That I could only imitate my Shenzong grandfather — retreat into the Forbidden City, shut the gates, amuse myself in solitude, and never again speak of a revivalist sovereign, never again dream the dream of a sage king."

Zhang Weixian slowly raised his head and looked at the young emperor, so close before him.

"Your Majesty… this old subject is already sixty-two this year."

"In this old subject's lifetime, I will not live to see a third sage sovereign descend upon the world…"

"This old subject will not live to see it — and our Great Ming, I fear… will not live to see it either!"

Zhu Youjian had a thousand, ten thousand words in his heart, yet in that moment, he suddenly did not know where to begin.

He wanted to tell him that he had seen that future with his own eyes.

It was not merely the fall of a dynasty, but the fall of a civilization — the beginning of centuries of Huaxia's subjugation.

He wanted to tell him that he was no heaven-sent sage sovereign from the history books; he was merely a true-hearted son raised under the red flag of a new era.

He himself fully understood the brutal nature of struggle, and he had never held high hopes for this late-Ming roster of civil officials to begin with.

But he could not speak a single word of any of this.

Zhu Youjian suddenly smiled.

"That the Duke would speak such heartfelt words to me shows that the Duke loves me."

He shook his head again.

"The affairs of state are tangled and complex, their roots knotted deep. I am young and of meager virtue; it is only human that the Duke should worry I might lose heart in the face of setbacks."

"Yet, the Duke understands my great ambition, but does not understand my spirit."

"What I wish to accomplish, the realm I hold in my heart — it is, in the end, different from what the Duke imagines. And for the moment, I do not know where to begin to explain."

With that, he simply rose to his feet, brushed nonexistent dust from his robes, and walked back behind the imperial desk to sit down.

He resumed the proper dignity and remoteness befitting the exalted Son of Heaven of the Great Ming.

"Broaden your gaze with the long view. I ask the Duke to simply watch, slowly, as the days unfold."

He gestured toward Gao Shiming outside the hall.

"Companion Gao, the Duke of Ying is advanced in years and has been so agitated today — I fear it may harm his health. Escort the Duke back to his residence to rest, personally."

Zhang Weixian was still somewhat dazed. He felt as though he had understood, and yet as though he had understood nothing at all.

What exactly did the Emperor mean by those final words?

But he knew that today's audience between sovereign and subject had come to an end.

He could only force his aching, numb legs to hold steady, and performed a deep, reverent salute.

"This old subject… obeys the decree. I thank Your Majesty for your heavenly grace."

With those words, supported by Gao Shiming, he slowly withdrew from the great hall.

Inside the hall, only Zhu Youjian remained.

He walked slowly to the hall's entrance, gazed out at the pattering curtain of rain, and reached out a hand to catch a few icy drops.

The heights are too cold.

He suddenly understood, a little, why those emperors in history grew more reclusive and more suspicious the longer they reigned.

Because their will, in the end, had to be carried out through countless other people.

And the human heart is the most unreliable thing of all.

Zhang Weixian was in all likelihood a loyal minister — otherwise his acting was simply too good, and such speculative behavior far too desperate.

What more could the Duke of Ying possibly gain? A princely title? He had no need to go this far.

Yet even for a loyal minister like him, the furthest limit of his imagination was merely to restore the altars of state, revive the court's discipline, and become a ruler who restored the dynasty's fortunes.

That was all it was — and even then, they feared he might suffer a setback and, like the Wanli Emperor, retreat deep into the inner palace and simply give up.

If they truly knew his ambitions, how many of them would still stand at his side?

What he had to do now, perhaps, was patch up this broken ship that was about to capsize.

But what he would do later, in the end, was smash it to pieces entirely — and use its keel and sails to build a brand-new, colossal vessel that could sail toward a new continent!

The hardships and obstacles along that path, the sacrifices it would require — how could they possibly imagine them?

"The scenery and things of this world are best judged with a far-reaching gaze…"

Zhu Youjian murmured to himself, a confident smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The scenery and things of this world in Our eyes are perhaps beyond what you can imagine.

He turned and walked back to the imperial desk, spread out a sheet of pure white xuan paper, lifted the vermilion brush, and dipped it full of blood-red ink.

The brush tip fell; the strokes bit through the paper.

Zhang Weixian followed Gao Shiming the whole way, walking silently along the Forbidden City's empty palace lanes.

The rain had lightened somewhat, but still fell in a steady drizzle, splashing up tiny, fine water blossoms on the blue flagstones, gathering into streams that flowed into the distance.

The two men spoke not a word the entire way.

As they neared the Eastern Glorious Gate, a young eunuch suddenly came hurrying up from behind, holding an umbrella.

"My Lord Duke, please wait!"

The young eunuch ran up to him and reverently drew from his breast a scroll wrapped tightly in oiled paper.

"His Majesty has just written two lines of verse and ordered this slave to deliver them to my Lord Duke."

Zhang Weixian was still somewhat dazed; the Emperor's final words still echoed in his mind — "The scenery and things of this world are best judged with a far-reaching gaze," and "The realm in Our heart is, in the end, not the same as what the Duke imagines."

What exactly… was different?

He took the scroll reflexively, assuming it was the completed poem, and simply could not be bothered to look at it.

He stuffed it carelessly into his sleeve and climbed into the sedan chair that had long been waiting outside the palace gate.

The sedan chair swayed into motion, advancing slowly through the rain.

He did not know how much time had passed when a rising and falling clamor came from outside.

"Hey! Master of the house, pour that water into the vat, and hurry up and catch some more — this rain's about to stop, anyone can see that!"

"I know, I know! You old woman, what are you shouting for!"

"Hurry up! What's falling from the sky isn't rain — it's pure silver!"

Zhang Weixian was called back to his senses by these voices full of life.

—If this rain stops, the morning court session tomorrow should proceed as normal, right?

When that time comes, what astonishing words will His Majesty speak next?

He drew the scroll from his sleeve and opened it indifferently.

With a single glance, his breath caught sharply in his throat!

On that xuan paper, there was no salutation, no signature — only two great lines written in cinnabar!

"Bitter sacrifice fuels a towering will — we dare to trade the old sun and moon for a brand-new sky!"