Chapter 27: Last Will

She pounded on the shoulders of the two boys, heart aching and furious, “You were raised by me! You only remember his biological debt, but forget my nurturing love—your elder brother is still lying inside, and he’s pressing me: ‘Is your elder brother dead? Are you unwilling to die with him?’”

Zhu Zihou and Zhu Zidan grew even more heartbroken, tears and snot streaming down their faces; they turned and kowtowed again to Zhu Youjue, begging him not to cause trouble.

Zhu Youjue truly felt these two children were worse than a roasted pork belly—roasted pork belly could be eaten; what use were these two?

Just as the commotion raged, the steward sprinted in, eyes gleaming, shouting loudly, “Your Highness, Your Highness, the Chief Secretary has returned, the Chief Secretary has returned—”

Everyone fell silent.

The Princess of Zhou lifted her tear-streaked face and asked urgently, “Did the Chief Secretary return alone?”

The steward gasped out, “No, there are officials from the Ministry of Rites and eunuchs from the Directorate of Ceremonial with him.”

The Princess of Zhou couldn’t help but press her hand to her chest and murmur, “Fusheng Wuliang Tianzun—”

Is it finally going to happen?

She hurriedly told Zhu Zijin, “Quick, go welcome them.”

Zhu Zijin agreed and rushed out.

The Princess of Zhou wiped her tears with one hand, grabbed each of Zhu Zihou and Zhu Zidan by the arm, and said, “Go help your elder brother.”

Zhu Zihou and Zhu Zidan wiped their faces and hurried after him.

Zhu Zijin had been confined to the countryside for years and lacked much education—he might not handle the Ministry of Rites officials and Directorate of Ceremonial eunuchs well.

Zhu Youjue’s chest rose and fell as he suppressed his myriad thoughts; he gave the Princess of Zhou one deep look before following them out.

The Princess of Zhou stood guard before the main hall’s door, gripping Qin Nainai’s hand tightly as she waited for word from the front courtyard.

Xuanmiao scanned the entire princely mansion and said, “The Prince of Zhou’s time is near.”

Tao Ji and Pan Yun said nothing; though they had expected it, they still felt sorrow.

This Prince of Zhou was a rare good man, generous and kind.

Most of Pan Yun’s current assets came from him.

Soon, a servant came to report, “Your Highness, the eldest son received the imperial edict in the front courtyard—the Emperor has named him Crown Prince, and the Chief Secretary quietly informed me that the imperial genealogy records have been updated: the eldest son is now officially registered as the son of the Prince and Princess.”

The Princess of Zhou let out a long breath and couldn’t help but murmur another incantation.

Soon after, servants from the front courtyard formally came to report: “The imperial envoys are coming to pay respects to the Prince.”

The Princess immediately looked toward Tao Ji.

Tao Ji pulled out his personal needle pouch and signaled it was fine.

The Ministry of Rites officials and Directorate of Ceremonial eunuchs weren’t just here to proclaim the edict—they also represented the court and Emperor to visit the Prince of Zhou; they would have to report back in detail.

Zhu Youjue followed them into the main hall and finally saw Zhu Yudun.

Zhu Yudun lay still; apart from a slightly paler complexion, he looked little different from their last meeting.

But to the Ministry of Rites officials and Directorate of Ceremonial eunuchs, this Prince of Zhou was emaciated, deathly pale, clearly on the verge of death.

The two confirmed the Chief Secretary hadn’t lied—the Prince of Zhou was truly gravely ill and beyond cure. They sighed inwardly but felt relieved; they hated and feared most when princely families caused trouble with lies.

The officials and eunuchs immediately shifted their expressions, faces heavy with sorrow as they asked if they might speak with the Prince to personally convey the Emperor’s decree.

The Prince of Zhou had chosen to remain unconscious precisely for this day; thus, the Princess of Zhou didn’t hesitate, asking Tao Ji to approach and insert needles.

Tao Ji first felt the Prince’s pulse, had medicine and the Prince’s favorite foods prepared, then began inserting the needles.

This needle insertion would bring the Prince his final moment of clarity; after this, any further sleep would be eternal.

The Princess knew this well, so she ordered the entire mansion—every concubine, every possible steward—to wait outside.

When Tao Ji inserted the final needle and gently twisted it, the Prince on the bed twitched his eyelids, then slowly opened his eyes.

The Directorate of Ceremonial eunuch stared at Tao Ji in astonishment—he hadn’t expected a commoner could be such a skilled physician, capable of inducing coma to delay death.

The Prince of Zhou stared for a long while before regaining awareness; the Princess watched him closely and whispered, “Your Highness, the Emperor has sent someone to see you.”

The Prince’s spirit lifted—had the court reached a decision?

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a faint sound emerged.

Tao Ji slowly withdrew each needle one by one and said, “Give the Prince some water.”

Then he stepped aside.

Zhu Zijin immediately brought a bowl of water, gently lifted the Prince, and helped him drink two sips.

The Ministry of Rites official, watching his careful attentiveness, nodded inwardly—he already knew how to phrase the Prince’s posthumous title.

After drinking, the Prince’s voice became audible: “Is the Emperor well?”

The Directorate of Ceremonial eunuch quickly replied, “The Emperor is in perfect health. Your Highness must take care of yourself—before leaving, the Emperor even mentioned he hoped to invite you to the capital for a gathering when time permits.”

The Prince of Zhou merely listened; he had awakened, meaning he could live until today—that was all.

This was his final day; he wouldn’t waste a moment. Every second was precious—each extra word spoken meant one less second of life. So he asked directly: “Has the Emperor granted my request?”

Facing a dying man, anyone would soften; thus, the Ministry of Rites official and the eunuch didn’t hesitate—they showed him the imperial edict.

The Prince of Zhou felt both joy and sorrow: “The Emperor’s great grace allows me to reunite with my son before death, ensuring the continuation of the Zhou princely line.”

The Prince ordered Zhu Zijin to kowtow northward to thank the Emperor.

Zhu Zijin obeyed, kowtowing firmly three times toward the north.

The Prince then asked, “Is this the only edict? I requested the abolition of human sacrifice within the mansion…”

The official and eunuch exchanged glances; though the Emperor had hinted approval before departure and begun drafting the edict, such matters were not official unless written, sealed with the jade seal. Neither could give the Prince a promise—only that the Emperor deeply cared for him and wished to honor his final wishes.

The Prince understood immediately—the Emperor had agreed, but someone in court had not, so the edict could not be written.

The Prince clenched his teeth, guessing it was some member of the imperial clan who opposed it.

He voiced no complaint, only gave a bitter smile, his gaze unconsciously searching the room for Pan Yun.

Pan Yun stood behind the curtain, silently observing everything.

She was young, dressed in common gray-blue robes, thus unnoticed; standing there, most would miss her entirely, and even if they saw her, they’d assume she was just a maid holding a cat.

Seeing the Prince’s eyes scanning the crowd, she quietly shifted, half her body stepping out from behind the curtain so he could see her.

She gave him a slight nod, signaling him not to rush—there was still room for maneuver.

The Prince set the matter aside for now and turned his attention to his funeral arrangements.

Seeing Zhu Youjue, he called out, “Fourth brother is here too.”

!

Zhu Youjue lowered his head in sorrow, “Elder brother…”

The Prince sighed, “Don’t grieve—everyone reaches this day. Among us brothers, I was closest to you. After I’m gone, look after Zijin.”

Zhu Youjue choked out his agreement.

The Prince looked at Zhu Zihou and Zhu Zidan and beckoned them.

The two brothers immediately knelt beside the bed, just as Zhu Zijin had.

The Prince felt his strength returning; he gathered their hands together and patted them gently: “After I’m gone, you three brothers must support each other. Zijin, you’re the eldest—look after them.”

Zhu Zijin agreed.

“Your elder brother suffered greatly. If he ever errs or falls short, remind him—not to drift apart.”

Zhu Zihou and Zhu Zidan nodded vigorously, tears streaming.

The Prince smiled, “Why cry? I’m already content to have lived this long. Zihou, you love making friends, generous and bold—that’s good, but you’re too soft-hearted. Don’t trust people too easily, and drink less—alcohol harms the body.”

Zhu Zihou wept and agreed.

“Zidan, since you love medicine, stay in the Zhou mansion to study. Your grandfather’s texts and manuscripts are yours to carry forward—I, your father, your uncles—we’re all useless, none of us could inherit your grandfather’s legacy.”

The Prince looked at Zhu Zijin.

Zhu Zijin assured him his brother would remain, everything unchanged—he would obtain whatever his brother needed for study.

The Prince was satisfied, holding their hands: “Good, good. I hope you three brothers remain loving and respectful—don’t follow the example of us old men.”

The Prince fell silent, deeply melancholy.

After finishing these instructions, he turned to the Princess.

The Princess wiped her tears, stepped forward, and sat beside the bed, taking his outstretched hand.

They remained silent for a long while, simply gazing at each other.

Finally, the Prince sighed, “My lady, I’ve wronged you. This life has made you suffer.”

Gong Shi wept and shook her head, “Your Highness treated me well. I have no regrets.”

The Prince tightened his grip on her hand, “After I’m gone, the mansion is yours. Shi Shi and the others…”

Gong Shi clasped his hands tightly, replying, “Your Highness, rest assured—I will care for them, no matter the outcome.”

If they could not escape human sacrifice, she would see them off with dignity; if they somehow escaped, she would treat them well.

The couple exchanged a glance, both sighing.

Life was too bitter—they had both witnessed human sacrifice firsthand.

Their thirteenth brother, Zhu Youxi, died at twenty; Zhu Yudun and Princess Gong Shi had managed his funeral.

His wife, Zhang Shi, was forced to commit suicide to accompany him; her concubines and servants were executed outright. Every time Zhu Yudun recalled it, he shuddered.

How could a human being be treated like livestock, their life and death decided at will?

Even livestock are only killed when useful—that is true stewardship of life, in harmony with the Dao.

But what purpose does human sacrifice serve?

Zhu Yudun admitted he was cowardly—he dared only ask for his own mansion’s exemption, never dared propose abolishing ancestral custom.

Gong Shi, his closest companion, knew this well; thus, she would do her utmost for what he feared most—though she could not guarantee success.

The Ministry of Rites and Directorate of Ceremonial had witnessed Zhu Yudun’s final instructions; these would be reported and possibly recorded in the Zongrenfu ’s registers.

The Prince’s strength improved further—he rose, ate his favorite foods, and even walked around the courtyard, basking in the sun for a long while.

Seizing this moment, the Prince summoned Pan Yun and said, “I entrust you with abolishing human sacrifice—you must keep your word.”

"Don't worry, if I don't work hard, you'll come back to find me."

Zhou Wang couldn't help laughing, "I'm already dead—how can I come back?"

"When a person dies, their spirit remains; as long as you wish to return, you will surely be able to."

Zhou Wang: "Fine, then I'll be watching you."

The ten lucky numbers for this chapter are those ending in 6; screenshot as proof. Screenshot submission deadline is until the next chapter update. Add 'Jian Zou Pian Feng De Da Ming' and post your screenshot to claim the prize."

(End of chapter)