Chapter 71: Zhang Jie: Could the Dragon and the Phoenix Be Me?

However, in the Song Dynasty and indeed all ancient worlds, it was held that “among the three forms of unfiliality, having no heir is the greatest.”

The Zhang family of Water Margin had already been single-line descendants for three generations; the pressure on Pan Jinlian was unimaginably great.

Perhaps the loyal old steward Zhang Zhong had already given Pan Jinlian subtle hints.

“The issue of heirs is not urgent—we’re still young.”

Zhang Jie comforted Pan Jinlian as he pondered.

He was only nineteen; if he already had a son, then after he overthrew the Song Dynasty,

wouldn’t that boy have to spend decades as crown prince?

“Has there ever been a crown prince for forty years?”

Zhang Jie couldn’t help recalling the lament of Crown Prince Yinreng of Kangxi’s reign.

Having a child now would be too cruel to the boy.

“Wait—there isn’t just a forty-year crown prince; there’s also a true old crown prince who waited sixty-four years.”

Zhang Jie’s increasingly powerful brain cells turned slightly,

and he recalled a Daomeidan from an island nation across the ocean in the 21st century.

Yes, that Daomeidan was Prince Charles of little Britain, who endured an ultra-long waiting period for his super-aged mother.

From the moment he was named Prince of Wales in 1958 (the exclusive title for the heir apparent of little Britain),

he didn’t ascend the throne until September 8, 2022, after his mother Queen Elizabeth II passed away.

One can only say that thanks to modern medicine, he likely wouldn’t have lived to see his coronation otherwise.

Yinreng: “Has there ever been a crown prince for forty years?”

Charles: “Come on, I’ve nearly been crown prince for seventy years…”

“Young Master, Xiao Cui, my age, is already a mother of two.”

Pan Jinlian clearly refused to accept Zhang Jie’s words.

Xiao Cui was Pan Jinlian’s close childhood friend, but she married at fifteen.

“That’s rather strange,” Zhang Jie stroked his chin.

He hadn’t used any contraceptive measures these past few months—why hadn’t Pan Jinlian’s belly shown any sign?

“Jinlian, have you been drinking the fertility-blocking decoction?”

Zhang Jie asked, puzzled.

The fertility-blocking decoction was ancient contraception,

but its efficacy was far inferior to modern industrial products, often allowing “fish to slip through the net.”

“How could I? I’ve always been careful.”

Pan Jinlian shook her head.

She had longed for a child until she was desperate—why would she drink the fertility-blocking decoction?

‘Hmm…’

‘In my past life, I never married or had children.’

Though this life I’ve been split into multiple parts, Yitian, One Piece, and Tianlong are all virgin males.’

‘So, is it the seed or the soil that’s the problem?’

Zhang Jie fell into thought.

If a field tilled diligently yields no harvest,

then either the soil or the seed must be flawed.

‘It’s even possible both seed and soil are flawed.’

Zhang Jie recalled a humorous anecdote he’d seen before his transmigration:

A couple had been married for over a decade with no children.

Their once-happy family had descended into chaos,

both husband and wife blaming the other’s body for the problem and demanding divorce.

Eventually, under family pressure, both underwent medical checks—and the results were utterly unexpected:

The husband was born with nonviable sperm; the wife was congenitally infertile.

Thus, the Dragon and the Phoenix had merged into one,

the elder brother couldn’t mock the younger—both were equally hopeless.

It was said they later adopted a child, and their life became much more harmonious…

Zhang Jie’s adoptive father, the wealthy Zhang, didn’t have a son until he was over fifty,

and now it was already the third generation of single-line descent—clearly, the Zhang family of Yanggu had weak lineage.

Pan Jinlian’s fertility also seemed problematic:

Ximen Qing had clearly made Li Ping’er conceive twice in three years, and his lawful wife Wu Yue’niang had also become pregnant,

yet Pan Jinlian, his favorite, who shared his bed every night, showed no sign of pregnancy.

‘Damn, could the Dragon and the Phoenix really be me?’

Zhang Jie was startled by his own conclusion.

‘Whatever, there’ll be plenty of ways later.’

Zhang Jie didn’t dwell too much on this issue.

He had a chance at immortality—he had enough time to solve it.

Even if he had no heir for a while, he could simply work harder, reign longer as emperor.

‘Tom, isn’t this the perfect solution to the royal clan problem?’

Zhang Jie suddenly thought of this.

Since ancient times, how to manage the royal clan had always been a major problem for any dynasty.

Zhu Yunwen, the Jianwen Emperor of the Great Ming, felt this deeply.

Judy: “Nephew, where are you?”

“Nephew? I’m your most beloved uncle!”

And the Zhu family, true to their name, had explosive fertility—within just two hundred years,

they multiplied from a single family into tens, even hundreds of thousands of descendants.

Later studies showed the Zhu descendants of the Great Ming consumed at least half of the dynasty’s finances.

Though it can’t be said the Great Ming fell entirely due to feeding the Zhu clan, it was certainly a contributing factor.

And the Jin Dynasty, founded by the man who made the Luo River stink,

suffered the Eight Princes’ Rebellion, which directly triggered the catastrophic Five Barbarians’ Invasion.

But the Song Dynasty had no such troubles:

Since Emperor Taizong, except for the odd case of Emperor Huizong, most emperors struggled to produce heirs.

Emperor Renzong, having no sons, went over thirty years without naming a crown prince.

That Prince Kang—Zhao Gou—perhaps his genitals were damaged by his Jin uncle, also had no sons,

and was forced to pass the throne to a descendant of Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin: Emperor Xiaozong.

The Tang Dynasty, meanwhile, bore a striking resemblance to Ottoman succession practices:

Emperor Taizong ascended: eliminated all sons and descendants of Li Yuan except Li Shimin.

Emperor Gaozong ascended: eliminated all sons and descendants of Li Shimin except Li Zhi.

Wu Zetian founded the Wu Zhou: eliminated all sons and descendants of Li Zhi except her own children, wiping out the Tang lineage.

After Li Shimin launched the Xuanwu Gate Incident: trusted future generations’ wisdom.

Li Longji and others: “Ancestors’ laws must not be changed!”

Dark joke: Li Yuan had no eldest son; Li Shimin had no elder brother.

Li Shimin and Zhu Di:

Start a rebellion? Yes. Reduce the princes? No.

“Proclaim the Mandate, pacify the realm!” Go! Go! Go!

Come is e, go is go.

Double kill inside Xuanwu Gate.

Real men never play inheritance games—love your dad, meet you at Xuanwu Gate (dog head).

Unofficial records say Li Er, after killing the crown prince, felt deep remorse in his later years,

but then remembered he’d also killed Li Yuanji, and couldn’t help smiling.

Also, during the Tang’s later period, in the cycle of capital capture-recovery-recapture,

many royal clan members died, since the emperor could flee, but the clan couldn’t always.

Finally, Huang Chao, the “Doctor Huang,” arrived: the Tang’s Thousand Grandsons Court,

Hundred Grandsons Hall—all located in the capital—were all wiped out by Doctor Huang.

The Qing Dynasty was even more interesting: it learned all the lessons of the Ming.

It solved the Ming’s worst problems—civil officials, eunuchs, censors, royal clan—

but forgot to manage the harem, and ended up with Empress Dowager Cixi stealing the peach, becoming “Dear Father” to Emperor Guangxu.

As a result, he forgot to manage the imperial harem, and in the end, Empress Dowager Cixi snatched the opportunity, becoming the "adopted father" of Emperor Guangxu.

……

“Young Master, please take Po Xi—Zhang family cannot end with me.”

As Zhang Jie was lost in thought, Pan Jinlian bit her lip and pleaded.

Faced with Pan Jinlian’s sorrowful yet resolute gaze,

Zhang Jie chose the simplest solution: beat her again.

This was no ordinary Pan Jinlian—she needed a heavy hand!

“Jinlian, let’s continue.”

His large hand began to wander, tracing mountains and rivers.

“Young Master~”

Pan Jinlian quickly seized his wandering hand with her small ones.

The symphony, now high-pitched, now low, began once more.

“This young man is full of vitality.”

In the master bedroom, an involuntary cry rose into Wang Fu’s ears, making her cheeks flush slightly.

As one who had been through it all, how could she not know what Pan Jinlian and Zhang Jie were doing?

“Madam, why is your face red?”

At that moment, Chen Wen, who had just returned from eating midnight snacks in the kitchen, asked.

“Husband~”

Wang Fu cooed softly.

“Uh…”

Seeing Wang Fu’s demeanor, Chen Wen shuddered.

“Madam, I still have some matters to research—I’ll let you sleep first?”

Still shaken, Chen Wen immediately sought to escape.

He was over forty, long past worldly desires,

or rather, he had the will but lacked the strength…

“Li and Yun are already asleep, husband—let us rest too.”

As Wang Fu spoke sweetly, her hands did not stop, beginning to unfasten Chen Wen’s robes.

“Husband, let’s give Li and Yun a younger brother or sister.”

Wang Fu pulled Chen Wen toward the bed.

“Oh no!”

Chen Wen groaned inwardly, forcing his stiff legs toward the bed.

His gaunt back bore the air of a brave man departing for the River Yi, never to return.