Chapter 77: The Miserable Chongzhen

In the afternoon, the Chongzhen Emperor issued an edict to dine with the Empress and the Crown Prince in the rear garden of the palace. Empress Zhou and Zhu Cilang were overjoyed.

Zhu Cilang remembered very clearly that in all his years of growing up, the occasions on which he had dined together with his imperial father and empress mother numbered no more than ten.

The feudal system's imperial household rules were extremely strict. Apart from the New Year, a family had almost no opportunity to dine together throughout the year, let alone gather all the consorts, princes, and princesses for a meal together—that was harder than landing on the moon.

The Chongzhen Emperor changed into a round-collared, narrow-sleeved imperial casual robe in Kunning Palace, embroidered with golden coiled dragon patterns on the front, back, and both shoulders—though this dragon robe bore several conspicuous patches.

The Chongzhen Emperor had always been frugal. He only dressed somewhat properly before the assembled ministers; upon returning to the inner palace, he would change into an old dragon robe covered in patches.

He was now only twenty-five years old, yet he looked like a man in his forties. The white hairs at his temples were growing ever more numerous, and his face ordinarily bore an unhealthy pallor—but at this moment his expression was animated, and a normal flush of color had returned to his cheeks.

By dusk, the stifling heat of the rear garden had dissipated, and a cool freshness pervaded the air. Occasionally, some nameless birds chirped and twittered.

Under the arrangements of the Directorate of Imperial Meals, a table of food had already been laid out in the Wanchun Pavilion in the rear garden of the palace.

Zhu Cilang looked over—on the table there were only six small dishes, all of them vegetarian, and the rice was coarse grain as well. This made him frown involuntarily, and he said, "Why has the Directorate of Imperial Meals only laid out this fare?"

The seal-holding eunuch of the Directorate of Imperial Meals was momentarily startled at these words, then immediately knelt down, somewhat at a loss.

Chongzhen and Empress Zhou saw this and looked slightly embarrassed. Chongzhen said to the eunuch from the Directorate of Imperial Meals, "Have the imperial kitchen add a serving of stir-fried fresh shrimp, prepared according to the Crown Prince's taste."

"This slave obeys the decree!" The seal-holding eunuch of the Directorate of Imperial Meals hastily acknowledged and withdrew.

Seeing this, Wang Cheng'en immediately stepped forward and said quietly to Zhu Cilang, "Your Highness, on ordinary days His Majesty and Her Grace eat only two small dishes. Today, with Your Highness's arrival, His Majesty has already broken precedent with six dishes."

Zhu Cilang was stunned at these words. His eyes widened, and pointing at the food on the table, he said, "Father and Mother eat this on ordinary days?"

Wang Cheng'en's eyes suddenly reddened. His voice choked with emotion, he said, "In recent years, natural disasters have struck unceasingly across the land, and the national treasury is empty. After the Fengyang imperial ancestral mausoleum was destroyed last year, His Majesty began to reduce his meals and withdraw music, abstaining from meat, to show that he shares hardships with the empire's soldiers."

Wang Cheng'en continued, "Her Grace the Empress has also been exceptionally frugal, cutting most unnecessary expenditures. Even at festivals and New Year, when ministers' wives come to court to offer congratulations, the rewards Her Grace gives are strictly in accordance with ceremonial regulations—she never bestows lavishly beyond the rules."

Zhu Cilang was puzzled—why was it that his own Cuizhu Palace still received eighteen catties of pork, four chickens, and two geese in its monthly food allowance, without the slightest reduction all these years?

As Wang Cheng'en spoke, tears could not help but flow from his eyes. He went on, "His Majesty and Her Grace are benevolent—they only cut their own provisions. All other palaces receive their usual amounts. Especially Your Highness's Cuizhu Palace—His Majesty has issued a strict decree that since Your Highness is at the age of growing, it shall only be increased, never decreased."

Zhu Cilang was dumbfounded. He had always thought that this kind of penny-pinching life existed only among commoner families—he never imagined it would appear in the august Great Ming imperial household.

A look of deep emotion and choked sorrow gradually appeared on Zhu Cilang's face. He said, "Father and Mother treat themselves so harshly—your son's heart feels as if it were being cut with a knife!"

His grief was genuine—the sovereign of an entire nation, the Emperor of the Great Ming, actually living such a bitter life.

In his previous life, he had originally assumed that the Ming emperors ate lavishly and splendidly, drinking a sip of Dongpeng energy drink when tired or sleepy, and grabbing a Snickers bar when things got really tough.

Sometimes, when tired of the imperial meals, they could even have a eunuch order takeout from the imperial city. And if worried about the Empress Dowager and Empress finding out and scolding them, they could leave a note for the delivery man to bring it directly to the south wall of Donghua Gate, letting the eunuchs of the Directorate of the Imperial Horses climb over the wall to retrieve it.

Not to mention anything else—twenty years ago, the Wanli Emperor lived a truly comfortable life.

According to the *Baoritang Miscellaneous Notes*, in the first month of the thirty-ninth year of Wanli (1611), the imperial food ingredients totaled more than fifty varieties, of which thirty-two kinds were used for the imperial meals proper.

This included one hundred fifty catties of pork, ten catties of donkey meat, five geese, thirty-three chickens, sixty quails, ten pigeons, five catties of smoked meat, fifty-five eggs, and so on.

In the Wanli Emperor's daily fare, the wheat-based foods alone included six categories and fifty-one varieties—eight-treasure steamed buns, chrysanthemum cakes, red agate tea snacks, and more—while the meats included nearly forty kinds such as lychee pork, jade-thread tripe and lungs, and brocade-wrapped chicken. Soups, fruits, and vegetables went without saying—it was simply dazzling.

That quantity would be enough for the current Chongzhen Emperor to eat for a whole year without repeating a single dish.

Compared to the Wanli Emperor, his mother, Empress Dowager Li, had even more abundant meals than the imperial fare—only more, never less—while Wanli's wife the Empress enjoyed half of Empress Dowager Li's allowance.

And these ingredients could only be considered the small portion. During the Wanli era, besides the daily meals mentioned above, there were also the three-day offerings and six-day offerings, all sorts of elaborate and extravagant varieties. Taking Empress Dowager Li as an example, each month's three-day offerings used twenty pigs, twenty sheep, and one hundred fifty catties of fermented black beans.

During the Wanli era, the imperial palace's monthly food expenditure reached twelve thousand taels of silver, averaging over four hundred twenty taels per day.

At that time, one tael of silver could buy two dan of rice, equivalent to over three hundred seventy catties. Estimating at the later-era price of two and a half yuan per catty of rice, the Wanli-era palace inside and out would spend over ten million yuan in soft currency on food every month.

Then think about the Chongzhen Emperor, who twenty years later lived in the same place and slept on the same bed—his treatment had thoroughly fallen from emperor to beggar. Chongzhen now couldn't even bear to eat meat!

Seeing Zhu Cilang's pained expression, the Chongzhen Emperor merely waved his hand and said, "The nation is in difficulty now. If I do not take the lead in frugality, how can the state keep turning?"

He looked at Zhu Cilang and suddenly smiled, saying, "I have heard that my son has a knack for generating wealth—might you teach your father?"

Zhu Cilang pondered for a long while, then said, "In this campaign, your son captured no small amount of supplies and money from the slave bandits, most of which is stored in Xincheng. If Your Majesty needs it, your son will have it transferred at once."

Chongzhen looked seriously at Zhu Cilang, and only after a moment said, "I have heard that you have again taken in many refugees from the capital region. If the Jianzhou barbarians make trouble in the capital region, those refugees will suffer. Keep those supplies for disaster relief—if they were placed in the Ministry of Revenue and then distributed, I estimate a good portion would be lost along the way."

Hearing the meaning of these words, the imperial father knew about official corruption? Then why did he not deal with it?

Zhu Cilang said, "Your son is willing to investigate and punish corruption for Your Majesty!"

Chongzhen shook his head without speaking, gesturing for Zhu Cilang and Empress Zhou to sit down and dine together.

Having been emperor for ten years, how could he not know of the corruption among officials and nobles? It was just that those vast interest groups were extremely terrifying—any move the court made against them would provoke fierce backlash, even shaking the foundations of the state.

Who said an emperor could do whatever he pleased? Only he, standing at the center of it all, understood the difficulty. Every step he took, he faced siege and pressure from all sides, crushing him until he could hardly breathe.

When Chongzhen took over the Ming, it was already a mess—various interest groups were deeply intertwined, gradually devouring this once-prosperous empire.

The first thing he discovered was that the Donglin Faction had the greatest power. To deal with the Donglin Faction, he elevated Wen Tiren, a remnant of the eunuch faction, to the position of Chief Grand Secretary, using Wen Tiren to suppress the Donglin Faction.

Wen Tiren did not disappoint his mission—he basically annihilated the Donglin Faction throughout the entire court. Those who died died, those who were demoted were demoted, those who were dismissed were dismissed. Even Qian Qianyi, the leader of the Donglin Faction, was locked in prison eating prison fare.

Wen Tiren repeatedly wanted to kill Qian Qianyi, but Chongzhen refused each time. If the Donglin Faction were completely eliminated and the eunuch faction led by Wen Tiren grew too powerful again, how would he deal with them then?

Only by preserving the Donglin Faction could he use them to suppress Wen Tiren's faction when it grew too large and disobedient—this was the so-called imperial art of balance.

It was just that the Chongzhen Emperor had never received personal instruction from his predecessor emperor since childhood, and the Way he had comprehended on his own was still shallow. As a result, he could not wield this imperial art freely to achieve his political goals.

To avoid repeating the same mistakes on his own path, Chongzhen had cultivated the Crown Prince Zhu Cilang from a young age, wanting him to master this imperial art early, so that when he later ascended the throne he could strategize within the court, unlike his own current miserable state.

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In recent years, self-media commentary of unknown origin has completely dumped the blame for the Ming dynasty's fall onto Chongzhen, and this view is still all the rage.

The fall of a dynasty requires comprehensive analysis from political, economic, military, and other angles. Putting the blame on one emperor is simply nonsense.

Some people say Chongzhen commanded battles blindly, was played in the palm of his hand by civil officials, and didn't understand the art of balance—that the Tianqi Emperor, that carpenter emperor, was better than him and wouldn't have led the nation to ruin.

If Chongzhen didn't know how to play the art of balance, could he have been emperor for seventeen years while holding real power in his hands? (Not like Emperor Xi'an of Han.)

If any friends hold the above views, I suggest you look up historical records—check the political, economic, and military conditions when Chongzhen took over the Ming, then check the natural disaster situation during the Chongzhen era. See how many natural disasters there were during the Chongzhen years, what levels they were, and how many times more they were than during the Tianqi era—I mean how many times more, not how many more occurrences.

I am not a Ming fan, nor am I a fan of Chongzhen. There's no need for me to whitewash him. In fact, before this I didn't even know who the Tianqi Emperor was. It was only because I once saw a post claiming the Ming's fall was all caused by that fatuous ruler Chongzhen that I began researching Ming materials and gradually came to like the Ming dynasty.

Studying history requires using historical records as reference and digging deep into the actual situation. The mess at the end of the Ming—especially the problem of land annexation—was such that even a resurrected Qin Shi Huang or Han Wu Di couldn't save it. It could only be torn down and rebuilt. Chongzhen certainly bears responsibility as an emperor, but as for making him carry this blame—he truly isn't qualified to bear it.

Don't hold Chongzhen to the standards of Emperor Taizong of Tang or Emperor Chengzu of Ming. He was merely a young prince who was inexplicably pushed onto the throne at seventeen, merely an emperor of ordinary ability. He didn't have such heaven-defying means to turn the tide. If that also makes him a fatuous ruler, then I have nothing more to say.

Any scholar with even a modicum of standing would not place the blame for the Ming's fall on Chongzhen—that would be the level of insight of an elementary school student.

Personally, I feel my worldview is sound. If some people truly can't accept that, then there's nothing I can do about it.

The rear garden of the palace is what is now the Imperial Garden of the Forbidden City.