Chapter 162: A Father-Son Conversation

Recently, ministers who openly or privately criticized the Crown Prince in public or in private have been dying sudden deaths one after another, making people feel that this young Crown Prince's temper is no longer as good as it used to be.

On the sixth day of the first month in the tenth year of Chongzhen (1637), while officials were home for the New Year holidays, the Old Huihui bandits drove straight toward the north bank of the Yangtze, and Zhang Xianzhong and Luo Rucai, having failed to take Xiangyang after a long siege, turned to attack Anqing instead. Nanjing was greatly shaken and urgently reported to the court.

The news only reached the capital six days later, and the Chongzhen Emperor convened an emergency court session to discuss how to respond.

Anqing was five hundred li from Nanjing and had been its gateway since ancient times, a place every strategist had to fight for. Back then, when the Prince of Ning rebelled, he struck Anqing first; in the late Qing, after the Qing army took Anqing, they soon breached Tianjing (Nanjing), the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's capital.

If Anqing fell, the roving bandits could drive straight into Nanjing. As the Ming's secondary capital, Nanjing held immense political significance—if it were taken, it would deal a fatal blow to the court.

Zhu Cilang seized the opportunity to request permission to lead the Yongwei Camp south to suppress the rebellion and completely pacify the bandit scourge in the Central Plains. Chongzhen refused.

On the thirteenth of the first month, Zhu Cilang again requested to go to war, with many officials seconding him. Chongzhen still refused.

On the fourteenth of the first month, Zhu Cilang led the assembled ministers outside Wenhua Hall to plead for war a third time, and signs of movement appeared in the Yongwei Camp as well.

After Wen Tiren's death, few dared to obstruct Zhu Cilang anymore. With the new Chief Grand Secretary Xue Guoguan lending his full support, all the officials seconded Zhu Cilang's three requests to go to war. The civil officials genuinely hoped the Crown Prince would lead troops south—that way the court would remain their one-man show.

Chongzhen was somewhat alarmed. He knew very well that if he let this rebellious son go south, he would be hard to control in the future. Ever since Wen Tiren's death, this rebellious son had grown increasingly assertive, showing signs that were becoming difficult to curb.

But if he forcibly kept him in the capital, there might truly be an incident like the Xuanwu Gate Mutiny, and his best outcome would be spending his days confined in the harem.

The fifteenth of the first month—the Lantern Festival.

Every year during the Lantern Festival, the Ming imperial house would erect a colossal mountain of lanterns and fireworks within the palace city. Because its shape resembled an ao—a mythical giant turtle—it was called the "Ao Mountain Lantern Festival."

Since the Lantern Festival in the seventh year of Yongle, this grand festival had been opened to the public in a high-profile manner—"subjects and ministers permitted to view the Ao Mountain at the Meridian Gate for three days." The significance of ruler and subjects celebrating together was immense; it was practically the Ming dynasty's version of the Spring Festival Gala.

Preparations for the lantern festival generally began in the twelfth month of the previous year, stacking various uniquely designed "wondrous flowers" and "fire cannons" layer upon layer, usually piling up thirteen layers to a height of several zhang.

On the day of the Lantern Festival itself, colored lanterns of every shape flickered across the massive "Ao Mountain," gorgeous fireworks blazed without cease, accompanied by the beautiful music of the Bell and Drum Office while palace maids danced gracefully—truly an incomparably wonderful feast for the eyes and ears.

Tonight, however, the Chongzhen Emperor and Zhu Cilang had no interest in admiring the lantern festival. Chongzhen summoned Zhu Cilang to the Wanchun Pavilion in the rear garden of the palace.

Zhu Cilang walked at a leisurely pace, behind him the dozen or so Eastern Palace personal guards led by Xu Sheng. Every one of them was supremely skilled in martial arts, quick of reflex, and each carried a revolver and a miniature hand grenade.

Upon seeing the Chongzhen Emperor, Zhu Cilang performed the customary rites as usual—though the formation behind him gave one the feeling of an impending coup against the throne.

Seeing him so cautious, Chongzhen furrowed his brow slightly and snorted coldly: "What, afraid I might harm you?"

Zhu Cilang replied with a smile: "Your son is not afraid!"

He truly was not afraid. Not to mention that over half the Embroidered Uniform Guard in the palace were Li Tingbiao's men—his five hundred Eastern Palace guards were stationed at the Shouhuang Pavilion drill ground outside Xuanwu Gate, the northern gate of the Forbidden City, all fully armed and equipped. If anyone tried to make a move against him in the palace, it would be no different from digging their own grave.

Zhu Cilang was now fully capable of sidelining Chongzhen and making himself Regent, but he saw no need for it.

Going south was a must. Staying in the capital as Regent could only repeat Chongzhen's old path. Historically, the reason Chongzhen could kill this minister, behead that general, and swap out dozens of Grand Secretaries without any trouble was precisely because he held real power, with the Yongwei Camp—that elite force—in his hands.

Historically, the Yongwei Camp was dispatched south by Chongzhen to suppress rebellions, and also tasked with guarding the Fengyang imperial tombs and the Nanjing imperial tombs, being split into several separate parts.

In the end, Sun Yingyuan died at Luoshan, vastly outnumbered; Zhou Yuji fought a bloody battle against Li Zicheng's hundreds of thousands at Ningwu Pass, and when the pass fell, he died with it. By the time Li Zicheng entered Beijing, Huang Degong was still guarding the imperial tombs a thousand li away, with no time at all to rush north to the rescue.

Historical experience told Zhu Cilang that staying home meant waiting to die. Even if the Yongwei Camp remained in the capital, the situation outside would only grow harder to contain, and in the end it would still be a death sentence.

Chongzhen said coolly: "Everyone withdraw. I have words to speak with the Crown Prince alone."

Wang Cheng'en hesitated for a moment, then led the attending eunuchs and palace maids back to about ten meters away. But not a single Eastern Palace guard dared to move; they remained nailed to their spots like iron spikes.

Seeing this, Chongzhen's brow furrowed tightly, and anger faintly blazed in his eyes.

Seeing this, Zhu Cilang waved his hand at Xu Sheng and said: "Withdraw!"

"Yes!" Xu Sheng clasped his fists in acknowledgment and led the dozen or so personal guards back to a distance of over ten meters as well. Several Eastern Palace guards spread out around the perimeter, vigilantly scanning their surroundings.

"I've certainly raised a fine son!" Chongzhen stared at Zhu Cilang with a string of cold laughs.

Zhu Cilang said casually: "Father Emperor, you exaggerate. Your son harbors no disloyal intentions."

Chongzhen stared hard at him and said: "You don't want to be emperor?"

"I do!" Zhu Cilang was very direct.

Fine, this rebellious son had finally told the truth! Truly emboldened by his backing! Flames shot from Chongzhen's eyes, as if he might explode on the spot.

Then Zhu Cilang continued: "Your son wants to be emperor, but not right now."

Seeing Chongzhen's grim expression, Zhu Cilang went on: "The Consort Dowager once said that the Imperial Ming has never had a crown prince who committed treason. Your son will not break that tradition either."

After hearing this, Chongzhen snorted coldly, his expression relaxing somewhat, and said: "Why do you want to go south?"

Zhu Cilang said solemnly: "The Great Ming can no longer afford to be tossed about. Your son wants to save it."

Chongzhen sneered: "Quite the bold claim you make!"

Seeing him fall silent, after a moment Chongzhen suddenly said calmly: "If you became emperor, what would you do?"

Zhu Cilang hadn't expected him to ask that. After thinking briefly, he replied with composure: "Fill the state treasury with ample silver and let the common people live in peace and prosperity—that is your son's bottom line!"

Chongzhen scoffed: "Hmph! Easy for you to say. How could you possibly achieve it?"

"For example, the Great Ming is a cake—"

"What cake?" Chongzhen asked curiously.

"Ahem—for example, the Great Ming's financial resources are a pastry." Zhu Cilang walked to the center of the pavilion, picked up a pastry, and said: "Of this pastry, eighty percent is held by gentry, officials, nobles, and merchants."

"Yet the taxes they pay to the court amount to only this much." As he spoke, Zhu Cilang stuffed the pastry into his mouth and took a small bite.

"In contrast, the common people of the Great Ming make up the vast majority, yet their wealth is only a pitifully small portion. The court's annual tax revenue is mostly squeezed out of that pitiful small portion. If this continues over the long term, officials will drive the people to revolt, and with endless natural disasters on top of that, men like Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong will only grow in number!"

Chongzhen, having engaged in politics for so many years, understood at once. He frowned deeply and said: "So, going south, you intend to make a move on this pastry? To strike at these people?"

Zhu Cilang swallowed the rest of the pastry in one gulp, chewed it vigorously a few times, and only then said: "Exactly! If you want to eat your fill, you have to take big bites!"

Chongzhen gave a cold laugh: "Hmph! Aren't you afraid of choking to death!"

Zhu Cilang said confidently: "As long as the teeth are sharp and the appetite strong, no food that comes to your mouth need be feared!"

"Governing a country isn't as simple as you imagine." Chongzhen shook his head. He felt this rebellious son was trying to play with fire.

Zhu Cilang said proudly: "If you're afraid the food is poisoned and won't even dare to eat, then you'll starve to death sooner or later. Your son has no wish to be one who starves!"

He looked at Chongzhen and continued: "If your son fails, Father Emperor may establish the Third Brother as Crown Prince and simply abandon your son. The Great Ming's realm will remain just as it is."

"You!" Chongzhen pointed at him, about to give him a scolding, but seeing the resolute look on Zhu Cilang's face, he froze for a moment, momentarily at a loss for words.

Zhu Cilang sighed and said slowly: "Father Emperor, as emperor you are good in every way—it's just that your heart is too soft."

Chongzhen's face was covered in black lines. Heart too soft? If I weren't soft-hearted, would I have let you bounce around in front of me like this?

Chongzhen pondered for a long while before saying, "For this journey south, what do you need?"

Zhu Cilang smiled and said, "Your son only needs an indestructible Imperial Sword!"

Chongzhen: ""

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