Chapter 57: Your Majesty, This Slave Has No Dreams

"—What is your dream?"

Gao Shiming was still bent forward, deeply regretting his rash slip of the tongue on that third stratagem, and had never expected to hear such a question.

He froze for a moment, even thinking he had misheard.

In all his years in the palace, he had heard the Emperor ask every kind of question — about court politics, about daily life, about personnel, even about Daoist scriptures.

But "dream"?

This was a first.

Maintaining his bent posture, he cautiously lifted his eyelids a fraction and saw the new sovereign's young face, tinged with a hint of inquiry.

Finding no sign of the thunderous rage he had braced for, Gao Shiming inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and slowly straightened up.

Yet his face remained full of bewilderment as he weighed his words and replied.

"Your Majesty… this slave has slept lightly these past few days and has not dreamed at all…"

Zhu Youjian was caught between laughter and exasperation at this.

He raised a hand and patted his own forehead, smiling helplessly. "I misspoke. It is not the dreams of sleep I meant, but aspiration — what is your aspiration?"

Aspiration?

Gao Shiming stood frozen on the spot, hands clasped.

Those two words seemed to weigh a thousand jun, pressing down on him until he could scarcely breathe.

In those brief few breaths, a great many things flashed through his mind.

He thought back to the Inner Palace School, to his teachers' earnest admonitions to "distinguish right from wrong and serve the state with a public heart."

He thought back to being demoted to the Divine Palace Superintendency, where in utter ennui he could only while away the days and nights with scroll after scroll of Daoist scriptures.

He also thought of these last few days, when his fortunes had turned and he had returned to the Directorate of Ceremonial — and of the fawning, flattering, sycophantic faces all around him.

Scene after scene flickered past his eyes like a revolving lantern.

And yet…

I am, after all, nothing but a castrated wretch…

Gao Shiming slowly opened his mouth, his voice carrying a trace of bitterness he himself did not notice.

"Your Majesty jests. This slave is merely a castrated wretch, physically incomplete. To serve Your Majesty is already Heaven's grace — how… how could I dare speak of any aspiration?"

His bearing was deeply deferential, steeped in caution and humility.

After bobbing up and down in the palace for decades, he had long understood: do not think what you should not think, do not say what you should not say. Fulfilling a slave's duty well was the very foundation of survival.

Zhu Youjian, however, did not agree.

Leaning slightly forward from behind the imperial desk, he fixed Gao Shiming with a burning gaze and said with a smile:

"Who says a eunuch cannot have aspirations?"

He picked up the list he had just set down and gave it a light wave.

"Had Cai Lun of the Han not improved the art of papermaking, we would still be writing on cumbersome bamboo slips."

"Even setting aside such distant examples — in our own dynasty, the Three-Jewel Eunuch Zheng He sailed seven times to the Western Ocean, spreading our Great Ming's prestige to foreign lands."

As he spoke, Zhu Youjian pointed to the enormous "Amalgamated Map of the Great Ming" on the screen in the hall.

"Were it not for him, how would we now know that within this terrestrial realm the world is so vast, or what a magnificent sight it is when ten thousand kingdoms come to pay tribute."

His voice was not loud, yet it echoed through the spacious hall, carrying an invigorating power.

"Even leaving aside these worthies of old."

Zhu Youjian walked back before Gao Shiming and looked at him with gentle eyes.

"Take your own Directorate of Ceremonial — is there not a brush-holder there named Liu Ruoyu?"

"I have heard that back then he castrated himself because of a strange dream. Presumably, he too has his aspirations, does he not?"

He smiled encouragingly, his tone growing ever more intimate.

"Companion Gao, there is no need to so disparage yourself. Whatever comes to mind, say it."

"If 'aspiration' sounds too grand, then speak casually. In any case, you must have something you wish to do?"

The autumn afternoon sun streamed into the hall, falling upon Zhu Youjian's face.

Set off by the pale golden light, the smile on his face seemed especially radiant and warm.

Gazing at the young monarch, barely seventeen years of age, Gao Shiming found himself, for a moment, in a daze.

He suddenly recalled that when he was small, just after being castrated, wailing in that little room shrouded by black curtains — it seemed… it had also been at the end of autumn.

An old eunuch had patted his back to comfort him:

"Little sprout, don't cry, don't cry…"

"Once you enter the palace, there'll be white-flour buns to eat, as many as you can finish…"

Yet in that room back then, not a sliver of sunlight could get through.

And now, in the blink of an eye, it had actually been thirty years.

Gao Shiming stood stunned for a time, his eyes even growing somewhat dry and sore.

Zhu Youjian did not press him, merely watched him quietly, that gentle smile still on his face.

A little heart-to-heart talk — it costs nothing and benefits all; why not enjoy it?

Gao Shiming's distraction lasted only a moment before he quickly collected himself.

He drew a deep breath and forced down the surging emotions.

He had meant to open his mouth and deliver some platitude about "serving Your Majesty with utter loyalty, not shirking even ten thousand deaths."

But as the words reached his lips, looking at the new sovereign's clear and sincere eyes, his instincts told him that this was certainly not the answer His Majesty wanted.

After much hesitation, he finally let out a long sigh and abandoned those hollow phrases.

"Your Majesty… this slave, at present, truly has no aspirations left."

He decided to speak part of the truth, selectively.

"This slave's family was poor when I was young. If I ever truly had any ambition, perhaps… it was simply to eat white rice at every meal."

"Later, by sheer luck, I entered the palace, and then I thought — if I could enter the Inner Palace School and learn to read and write, I would be wholly content."

"Later still, I was favored by the late Emperor and permitted to attend him at his studies. In a muddled daze, I suddenly leaped to become a brush-holding eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial."

"In those days, this slave was once full of high spirit and vigor. I once thought to emulate the worthy men of old, to accomplish some great undertaking, so as not to fail the imperial grace."

"But… later on, driven out by the traitor Wei, I was demoted to guard the Palace of Divine Supervision. Up and down — I tasted to the full the warmth and cold of human feeling in this palace."

"At first I still thought that one day I might ride the wind and rise again. But as the days wore on, my spirit was worn away. I merely studied Daoist texts each day, to console myself, and nothing more."

Gao Shiming's voice was very calm, as though he were telling someone else's story.

"Until now, when Your Majesty did not cast me aside, but plucked this slave from the mire and raised me up, entrusting me with your confidence."

"What this slave holds in his heart — apart from serving with utter devotion to repay Your Majesty's sacred grace — is truly… I do not know what other ambition I could still possess."

Zhu Youjian had been listening intently the entire time, without interrupting him.

Only when Gao Shiming had finished did he finally let out a sigh of emotion.

"You handle affairs with skill and ability, your nature is upright and prudent, and you always perceive great things in the smallest details. I wonder — which teacher of the Inner Palace School had the good fortune to instruct a student such as you?"

Gao Shiming had just pulled himself out of his emotional recollections. Hearing this question, his heart gave a slight shiver of caution, and he hastily bowed his head with the utmost respect and said:

"In reply to Your Majesty, this slave entered the Inner Palace School in the twenty-sixth year of Wanli. At that time, my instructing teachers were three masters of the Hanlin Academy: Han Kuang, Zhu Guozhen, and Shen Que."

In his mind, Zhu Youjian rapidly searched the original host's memories for these three names. A moment later, he found the answer.

Han Kuang — one of the leaders of the Donglin Faction, Chief Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat in the Tianqi reign.

Zhu Guozhen — also a Grand Secretary in the Tianqi reign.

Shen Que — a ruthless man who fought the Donglin faction head-on in the early Tianqi years; one could call him a senior, big-shot figure of the eunuch faction.

Good heavens!

A Donglin faction big shot and a eunuch faction big shot — both were your teachers in the same cohort?

This faculty lineup is far too formidable!

Gao Shiming saw that Zhu Youjian remained silent, and his heart could not help but grow uneasy, wondering what he had said wrong.

Who would have thought that Zhu Youjian would suddenly burst into loud laughter.

"Good! Very good!"

He clapped Gao Shiming on the shoulder.

"You rose from the humblest beginnings, climbed to the highest peak, fell to the lowest valley, and now rise once more. Companion Gao, this half-lifetime of yours — you are a man of no small story."

Gao Shiming hastily bowed. "This slave dares not accept such praise."

Zhu Youjian smiled and waved his hand, signaling him not to stand on ceremony.

He turned and walked back to the imperial desk, but his tone gradually grew deep and profound.

"Companion, you were willing to be candid with me, and I am very glad. Then I shall also speak to you of my own ambition."

Gao Shiming's heart grew solemn. He quickly straightened his posture and assumed a serious expression of listening with rapt attention.

Zhu Youjian's gaze turned toward the deep azure autumn sky beyond the hall. The first words he spoke were a commonplace platitude.

"The day I ascended the throne, I already knew — this Great Ming is, I fear, about to perish."

Gao Shiming felt his brain buzz, and he instinctively moved to kneel and prostrate himself.

These were not words he was hearing for the first time.

Not long ago, right here in Qianqing Palace, the new sovereign had spoken the exact same words to Zhang Weixian, the Duke of Ying!

Only…

Who was the Duke of Ying? A hereditary pillar of the state, the foremost of the nobility!

And who was he himself? A eunuch slave, just recalled to service from the Palace of Divine Supervision!

How dare I hear such words? How can I hear them? How could I ever wish to hear them!

"Don't panic." Zhu Youjian raised a hand to stop him from prostrating himself. "Hear me out."

His voice was calm, yet carried an authority that brooked no doubt.

"The civil officials form cliques, knowing only how to squeeze the fat and marrow from the people, treating the state treasury as private property."

"The military officers fear death, drink the soldiers' blood and pocket empty pay, and the frontier defenses are as full of holes as a sieve."

"The imperial clansmen and princes enclose the best lands under heaven, yet are themselves raised like swine, draining the very lifeblood of the dynasty."

Zhu Youjian drew a deep breath and continued:

"Look where you will — to the north, the Later Jin watch with tiger-like greed. In the Dingmao Campaign they raided Joseon, and the Great Ming was powerless to stop it."

"Drought is gradually emerging in the Guanzhong region. The people have no grain to last beyond the season, the soldiers no pay to last three months. All it needs is a single spark to fly, and in an instant the earth will split and the mountains crumble."

"Companion, tell me — does this scene, this circumstance, not resemble the final years of every fallen dynasty throughout history?"

Gao Shiming was terrified in his heart, yet he still had to put on the appearance of listening earnestly, of a man burdened with concern for his country and its people.

"Taking history as a mirror, the realm today is more precarious than a pile of eggs. Yet I do not know whether it will be destroyed first by the barbarians beyond the passes, or rot away first at the hands of the common folk rising in revolt."

"If no change is made, this Great Ming — even if it does not perish in my own generation, I fear it can at most last only until the next."

Zhu Youjian slowly turned around, his gaze settling once more upon Gao Shiming.

That gaze was deep and piercing, as though it could see straight through a man's heart.

"Therefore, if one speaks of ambition — then my ambition, from first to last, has only ever been one thing."

He spoke each word deliberately, each word ringing like metal on stone.

"That is — to turn back the raging tide before it crashes down, to shore up the great mansion as it topples!"

At these words, Zhu Youjian abruptly reached out and grasped Gao Shiming tightly by both arms. Their eyes met, and in his gaze was an earnestness and solemnity such as he had never shown before.

"Companion Gao, since you cannot see your own ambition clearly —"

"Then why not take Our will as your will!"

"What do you say?!"