Chapter 887: Burial Alive System

Qian Zhong limped out of Kunning Palace; just as he turned the corridor, the sun burst from behind the clouds, blinding white light splashing across his face and stabbing his eyes.

He swayed, toppling backward, when a warm hand pressed against his back and shoved him upright.

Qian Zhong blinked dazedly, slowly turning his head to see Pan Yun withdrawing her hand.

Qian Zhong's eyes widened slightly; instantly, a voice surged in his heart: It's her—she can save my little sister! He dropped straight to the ground.

Pan Yun grabbed his arm and held him firmly.

After all these years, she still couldn't get used to people here kneeling without reason.

Qian Zhong pleaded: "Master Pan, please save the Empress."

His words were vague, but Pan Yun understood at once: "Burial alive?"

Qian Zhong nodded frantically, his face pale: "The Empress has vowed to spend her life fasting and praying for Your Majesty's well-being. Please, Master Pan, speak kindly to Prince Cheng on her behalf—beg the Imperial Clan Court not to bury her alive."

Though the list was drafted by the Imperial Clan Court, it was merely a recommendation; final approval rested with the new Emperor and the Empress Dowager, especially the new Emperor—his will was crucial.

Pan Yun fixed him with a steady gaze, then withdrew her hand: "Your leg wound is severe. Go back and rest."

Qian Zhong stared blankly at her back, unsure whether she had agreed or refused.

In the evening, Zhu Qiyu arrived weary, seeking Pan Yun to hear her teachings.

It had become his habit during this period—even after returning to the palace—he never broke it.

He called it "hearing teachings," but in truth, he used Pan Yun as a dumping ground; his pressure was too great, and he told her everything.

Especially after the war ended and they returned to Jingcheng, Pan Yun had moved her three senior disciples into the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, refusing to leave the palace or attend court discussions, even avoiding officials entirely—Zhu Qiyu grew even fonder of visiting her.

Upon entering, Pan Yun merely nodded to him, then resumed brewing tea.

Zhu Qiyu didn't mind; he walked over and plopped onto a chair, face heavy with despair.

Pan Yun poured him a cup of tea and asked: "Is it the Empress Dowager?"

Zhu Qiyu lowered his head and murmured: "She suspects Cao Nai and others abandoned His Majesty and even conspired to kill him. She demands I hand over all those who accompanied His Majesty to the Northern Capital Security Bureau for interrogation, and recall Kuang Ye and Chen Huai."

Someone must have whispered to her that His Majesty could have escaped, but Yang Jun delayed the battle, allowing the Oirats to slip through the breach and flank us, failing to send reinforcements—that's why His Majesty was captured and so many ministers died."

She demands I punish the Yang family, interrogate whether Yang Hong ordered it, and uncover the mastermind behind it."

Pan Yun: "The Empress Dowager has lost her son; it's natural she's momentarily misguided. Once she calms down, she'll realize many suspicions lack basis and will let this go."

"But…" Zhu Qiyu hesitated, "because I refuse to severely punish the courtiers who accompanied His Majesty, she suspects I'm rejoicing in his death and colluding with ministers to cover up the cause of his demise…"

Pan Yun spoke gently: "Your Highness, in three days you will ascend the throne. You have countless state affairs to handle: Should we continue the war in Luchuan? You must decide. Deng Maoqi in Fujian—should we offer amnesty or escalate forces? Next year is the Yellow River flood season; should we repair the riverbanks and dikes, and how? The compensation for fallen soldiers and the reassignment of wounded troops—countless matters await your judgment. To grieve so deeply over the Empress Dowager's whims is not worth it."

Zhu Qiyu opened his mouth but didn't relax; his face grew even more bitter.

Pan Yun knew he was sensitive; even if she convinced him, he'd suppress the matter inside, endlessly tormenting himself.

She thought a moment, recalling Qian Zhong from the afternoon.

She had planned to bring it up at a better moment, but now, it seemed fate had chosen the moment.

Pan Yun said: "The Empress Dowager is gentle by nature; she simply cannot accept this yet. Your Highness should soothe her heart—let her know you are a benevolent man, one who does not diminish her dignity as Empress Dowager, but rather inherits the late Emperor's will."

Zhu Qiyu blinked: "His Majesty's will? What will did His Majesty have?"

Pan Yun: "Abolish the burial-alive system."

Zhu Qiyu's eyes widened in shock: "This—this—this—is ancestral tradition! How can it be abolished so easily?"

Pan Yun sighed: "It wounds the harmony of heaven."

Zhu Qiyu fell silent—he too felt it wounded heaven's harmony; images flashed through his mind of palace servants he'd known these past two days.

And…

Thinking of Wang Fei, who had wept nonstop for his elder sister these past days, Zhu Qiyu's heart stirred—but his chest tightened: "But this is ancestral tradition. Will the ministers agree?"

Pan Yun looked up at him, seeing his earnest anxiety, and fell silent.

The ministers won't object—only heaven knows how delighted they'll be.

The concubines chosen for burial-alive are all the daughters of ministers; who among them, if not a beast, could watch their own daughter being buried alive without a tear?

They merely cower under imperial power, dare not speak, and every time they receive the imperial decree, pretend to be joyful as they kneel and thank the throne.

Pan Yun spoke calmly: "Your Highness, rest assured—once you issue the edict, the ministers will shout 'Ten Thousand Years!'"

A state cannot be without a ruler; Zhu Qiyu led his army back to the capital, earned military merit, prestige, and popular support—and was immediately elevated to the throne, already recognized as the new Emperor.

Yet to comfort the Empress Dowager and Empress Qian, and to demonstrate his brotherly affection, Zhu Qiyu insisted that before his formal coronation, everyone still address him as Prince Cheng.

But privately, everyone had quietly changed their address, and he could already issue edicts using the imperial seal.

Zhu Qiyu swallowed hard, still hesitating.

Pan Yun sighed: "This was also the late Emperor's wish. Several years ago, when Prince Zhou died, he repeatedly petitioned the Imperial Clan Court and Your Majesty to exempt Prince Zhou's consort and other female relatives from burial-alive. The late Emperor was deeply moved and granted the request. This shows the late Emperor's benevolence—he never wished for burial-alive to continue."

Zhu Qiyu blinked: "Really? Wasn't His Majesty moved by the bond between Prince Zhou and Wang Fei, and that's why…?"

Pan Yun stared steadily at him; Zhu Qiyu fell silent.

Pan Yun: "... Your Highness, the late Emperor died so tragically; now the Empress Dowager's greatest concern is his posthumous title. What titles have the ministers proposed recently?"

Zhu Qiyu's heart leapt; he stared at Pan Yun in surprise.

The ministers had indeed been debating titles today—three options: Huai, Min, and Shang…

And the Empress Dowager had only become especially agitated this afternoon, nearly tearing apart the inner palace.

Zhu Qiyu shot to his feet: "I—I don't like any of those titles. I've sent them all back. Order the ministers to deliberate again."

Pan Yun: "The late Emperor had achievements—the Luchuan campaign… though narrowly won, it was still a victory. But his personal campaign's defeat, capture, and the siege of the capital—all piled together, with so many ministers and soldiers dead, and civilians caught in the crossfire… unless we grant him a great achievement, it will be hard for the ministers to accept him."

"The late Emperor's title cannot be settled until burial; must our Great Ming endure a ritual dispute lasting two or three years?" Pan Yun said: "Not only does it delay countless matters, but even the palace ladies cannot endure it."

"If the inner palace is unstable, it will affect your mood, your decisions, your governance," Pan Yun sighed: "Then why not honor the late Emperor's wish and abolish burial-alive?"

She whispered: "There is a saying I have never dared to speak plainly to Your Highness."

Zhu Qiyu hurriedly said: "Between you and me, what cannot be said?"

Pan Yun said: "The Zhu imperial lineage is gradually declining, dragging down the nation's fortune—could it not be because burial-alive wounds heaven's harmony too severely?"