Chapter 63: Heart at Ease, Mind Indolent, Old Events Replayed

A group emerged from Ciqing Palace, Zhang Hong walking cautiously behind the Emperor.

Having just endured this incident, his heart was already uneasy; he stole a glance at the Emperor’s grim face and dared not even breathe loudly.

He followed step by step, his mind racing with ways to make amends.

“Zhang Hong, your rise to the position of Chief of the Office of Eunuch Supervisors was perhaps too smooth?”

A voice suddenly pierced his ear—cold and sharp—making his heart leap.

He immediately knelt and begged for forgiveness: “Your servant is guilty! Your Majesty, I shall surely uncover the truth of this matter!”

Zhu Yijun looked down at Zhang Hong and sneered: “Investigate? The fire is already burning—what’s left to investigate?”

If it were that easy to investigate, the Shizong Emperor wouldn’t have suffered so many fires.

Zhang Hong bowed his head repeatedly, the thuds of his forehead striking the ground loud and solid.

Zhu Yijun watched coldly, saying nothing.

Just as he was about to press Zhang Hong further, he suddenly saw Li Jin sprinting toward them from afar, looking utterly disheveled.

Zhu Yijun’s eyelid twitched; a bad omen rose again in his chest.

Sure enough, as soon as Li Jin arrived, he collapsed to his knees, panicked: “Your Majesty, the late Emperor’s youngest daughter, Yao Jiang, has passed away!”

The late Emperor’s youngest daughter, Zhu Yaojiang, was the daughter of Imperial Consort Qin, the seventh in line.

She was born in July last year; she is only one year and four months old.

She was perfectly well just yesterday—how could she have died overnight!?

Zhu Yijun took a deep breath and erased all expression from his face.

He looked at Li Jin calmly: “How did she die?”

Li Jin caught his breath and spoke rapidly: “This morning’s incident!”

“She was crying uncontrollably, her limbs convulsing; we summoned the Imperial Physicians, but even acupuncture failed to save her.”

“The Director of the Imperial Medical Bureau said she died of convulsions.”

Zhu Yijun slowly closed his eyes.

His voice grew heavy: “Which physician? Which Director?”

Li Jin answered without hesitation: “Director Wang Wenli, physicians Song Zhaohe!”

Zhu Yijun merely nodded silently, asking no further questions.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, leaving the two senior eunuchs kneeling on the ground.

After walking some distance, as if suddenly remembering, Zhu Yijun turned back and ordered: “Wait for me.”

Saying this, he led the Embroidered Uniform Guard away, leaving the two senior eunuchs kneeling to see him off.

The two senior eunuchs remained kneeling, unable to rise, bowing their heads repeatedly as they watched the Emperor’s retreating figure.

…

Wenhua Hall.

Today’s court assembly had not yet concluded.

The inner palace had its own affairs; the outer court had its own matters. Sending a Secretary to offer condolences and receiving word that all was well was sufficient.

The court assembly proceeded orderly.

Censor Hu Xiao was speaking passionately: “On the night of the third day of the tenth month, Bingchen, a guest star appeared in the northeast, resembling a pellet, emerging beside the Gudao asterism, its brightness gradually increasing in the Bi constellation. After nineteen days, by the night of Ren Shen, the star turned reddish-yellow, as large as a cup, radiating light in all directions. The omen says: this is a bao star.”

“Now, the rear halls of Ciqing Palace have been consumed by fire—the very quarters where imperial consorts reside—this is the manifestation of calamity!”

“Stars are yin symbols of fire, born of accumulated yin. When an evil star enters the celestial angles and fire anomalies appear within the palace, how can this be a trivial matter?”

All eyes turned to Hu Xiao as he ranted.

The fire at Ciqing Palace had somehow spread; by the start of today’s assembly, everyone had heard of it.

After receiving confirmation that Empress Dowager Chen was unharmed, Hu Xiao launched into his performance.

Using the “evil star” of the third day of the tenth month as pretext, he linked it to the Ciqing Palace fire and made a grand spectacle of it.

The Bureau of Astronomy had previously called it an auspicious sign; only recently had they changed their tune, claiming the star’s prolonged presence marked it as evil.

Everyone understood what was happening.

Those uninvolved watched coldly.

Those with suspicions scrutinized carefully.

Those plotting in secret glanced around.

Hu Xiao continued his impassioned speech: “When a filial widow was killed in the Eastern Sea, it rained not for three years. A single filial widow could disrupt heavenly harmony so greatly—what of the closed-off harem, filled with concubines from two reigns?”

“The elderly vanish without trace; the young harbor resentment; widows and lonely women, their grief countless!”

“In my view, this fire was most likely set by a palace maid filled with resentment!”

This was an open accusation against the Emperor’s virtue.

Not only open—it was a repeat of old tactics.

This very argument… was nearly identical to the one made when the Shizong Emperor was nearly strangled by palace maids.

Hu Xiao grew more agitated: “Tang Gao was an unworthy ruler; Wu Zetian was cruel; they nearly destroyed the state. I need not remind Your Majesty of this, but past precedents must serve as warning!”

The Tang Gao Emperor was weak; Wu Zetian was tyrannical; they nearly brought down the empire. Though I need not speak of this to Your Majesty, you must learn from history’s lessons!

At last, the mask fell away.

He was openly claiming the Emperor’s moral failings had summoned this retribution.

Yet the Emperor was no longer alone.

Li Ke, Chief of the Censorate’s Personnel Division, immediately rose to rebuke him.

Just as he moved, he saw a figure emerge from the side corridor above the imperial seat.

Zhu Yijun raised his hand, signaling Li Ke to return to his place; the latter obediently sat down.

The Emperor had arrived; the ministers bowed: “Your Majesty.”

Hu Xiao’s voice cut off abruptly; he looked up at the Emperor, his face tinged with fear and shame: “Your Majesty.”

Zhu Yijun nodded, expressionless, and uttered only two words: “Continue.”

He did not draw the screen, merely watching Hu Xiao, waiting for his next words.

Hu Xiao stiffened for a moment.

But gritting his teeth, he straightened his back and continued: “The cause of calamity lies in the ruler—how then to correct oneself? If it lies in treacherous ministers—how then to expel them? As for curbing excesses, I urge adherence to ancestral rites, frugality to enrich the people’s livelihood, and diligent study of classics to broaden governance—all to summon heavenly harmony and open an endless, boundless reign!”

If calamity reflects the ruler’s failings, should he not reflect? If it reflects treacherous ministers, should they not be cast out?

Of course, this was empty rhetoric—the real point lay in the proposed solution.

Hu Xiao’s prescription was simple: do not compete with the people for profit; follow ancestral rites; study the classics—to achieve “heavenly harmony.”

If ignored, the “harmony” would be shattered.

This was still too veiled; Zhu Yijun seemed not to fully grasp it.

He murmured vaguely: “What exactly does Censor Hu mean by ‘enriching the people’s livelihood,’ ‘adhering to ancestral rites,’ and ‘diligent study’?”

The Emperor did not address him as "Your Excellency" as usual, but called him "Censor Hu."

Some ministers, seeing the Emperor’s blank expression, began to feel fear.

This scene… was eerily similar to the days of the Shizong Emperor!

Hu Xiao had said enough; he could not be more direct. He stammered: “Your servant is shallow and unlearned—I can say no more.”

Zhu Yijun nodded, asking no further questions.

Suddenly, he seemed to recall something and muttered almost to himself: “Censor Hu is from Southern Zhili?”

Hu Xiao forced himself to answer: “Your servant is from Wuxi in Southern Zhili, a jinshi of the Jiajing 44th year, Yi Chou.”

Zhu Yijun said nothing.

He turned to Zhang Juzheng: “Zhang Qing, what else was discussed today?”

Zhang Juzheng fell silent, sensing the Emperor’s anger and wishing to soothe him.

He spoke slowly: “Your Majesty, today’s assembly addressed several matters.”

“The compilation of the Shumu Annals.”

“Following the proposal of Viceroy Wang Zongmu, the annual rotation of troops from Huai’an’s Eastern and Western Garrisons to Beijing for drills is abolished; instead, they are reassigned to coastal patrols to guard maritime transport.”

“The Ministry of War has impeached General Gu Huan…”

As soon as he spoke, Zhu Yijun turned to Yang Bo.

His gaze was unreadable—as if asking the Chief Minister, as if speaking directly to Yang Bo: “What did Grand Secretary Yang impeach General Gu for?”

Zhang Juzheng replied: “He impeached Gu Huan for bypassing the Ministry of War and submitting memorials directly to Your Majesty, violating established protocol.”

Yang Bo’s expression changed slightly.

Zhu Yijun nodded: “I understand. Zhang Qing, continue.”

Zhang Juzheng continued mechanically: “We also discussed the defense of Xuan-Da and the southeastern frontier.”

“And Censor-in-Chief Jia Daiwen impeached Vice Censor-in-Chief Hai Rui—for residing in the Northern Office of Military Surveillance as a censor, suggesting collusion between inner and outer circles.”

“And of course, Censor Hu’s remarks just now.”

He raised his head and glanced at the Emperor.

The Emperor’s face was utterly expressionless, revealing no thought at all.

This situation—he had foreseen it since the Emperor signaled intent to move against the Huaihai salt monopoly.

His views clashed sharply with Hai Rui’s; he entirely disapproved of the matter.

But the Emperor was determined; he could only acquiesce.

Acquiescence was the limit—he could never fully support it.

At this level of rank and office, apart from isolated officials like Hai Rui, no one is merely themselves—they are pushed forward by a whole network behind them.

One must consider not only one’s own views, but also those of one’s allies.

For Zhang Juzheng to raise his banner and openly declare intent to reform the Two Huai salt administration means abandoning all support from the Southern Zhili faction.

The difficulty is no different from cutting into oneself.

Turning the blade inward is the most arduous of all.

His only possible support is to suppress dissent within his own camp, appearing impartial on the surface, treating it as an ordinary case.

But while he can suppress his own side, the Southern Zhili faction does not stand merely behind him.

Even the Chief Censor of the Household Department, Jia Daiwen, and the Right Vice Minister of Justice, Bi Qiang, have large contingents from Southern Zhili surrounding them.

Figures like the Assistant Censor of the Works Department, Zhang Daoming, and the Compiler Shen Yiguan occupy nearly half the mid-level posts in the Hanlin Academy and Six Ministries.

The Southern and Northern Examination Scandal has its own deep roots—this is no longer merely a budding issue.

Not to mention the Jin Party, long dissatisfied with Gu Huan’s case, may well stoke the flames.

Zhang Juzheng had long foreseen that trouble was inevitable.

This morning, upon hearing of the fire at Ciqing Palace, he knew disaster was coming.

Now, seeing the Emperor’s expression as calm as a still sea, yet with hidden storms gathering, he dared not divert his attention, fearing that if this young Emperor’s first act met resistance, he would resort to bastinado.

But after hearing Zhang Juzheng’s words, Zhu Yijun showed no outburst of rage.

Instead, he nodded slightly toward Gao Yi and said: “Master, my younger sister Yaojiang has passed. I wish to posthumously elevate her to Princess. Can you quickly draft the ceremonial protocol?”

Not just Gao Yi.

Everyone froze.

Zhang Juzheng’s heart skipped a beat!

No wonder the Emperor looked like this! He had thought it was merely a fire—but now he realized: his younger sister was dead! The Emperor must be seething with rage!

He suddenly looked up at certain men, his eyes holding silent accusation.

How dare they!

He had assumed they would merely set fire to create noise—but who could have imagined they would go this far!?

Zhang Simei and Jia Daiwen both turned pale, shaking their heads violently, signaling to the Chief Minister that they had no connection to this.

Gao Yi exclaimed in shock: “The Seventh Princess of the late Emperor, Yaojiang, is dead!?”

“When did this happen?”

Zhu Yijun shook his head: “Just now. Your Majesties will know soon enough.”

The imperial physicians will report the details to the Grand Secretariat—he had no wish to waste words.

Gao Yi pressed: “What was the cause?”

Zhu Yijun’s face remained expressionless, eerily calm: “The physicians say she died suddenly from shock.”

Gao Yi and Zhang Juzheng exchanged glances.

Sudden death from shock—that meant natural causes…

Both felt dread rising.

Gao Yi was about to press further, but Zhu Yijun cut him off: “Master, I’ve chosen a posthumous title: Princess Qixia. What do you think?”

Lu Diaoyang fell silent for a moment.

Finally, he bowed and replied: “Your servant obeys the imperial command.”

This was not merely a question of a title.

This matter should have been referred to the Ministry of Rites—but the Emperor asked a Grand Secretary.

In other words, he had forced Zhang Juzheng, Gao Yi, and Lu Diaoyang to declare their positions.

The Emperor is furious beyond measure!

The three did not know what the Emperor intended; they exchanged glances, each seeing only anxiety on the others’ faces.

Zhu Yijun then turned to Yang Bo: “Grand Secretary Yang, I hear you impeached Regional Commander Gu Huan for bypassing the Ministry of War to submit memorials?”

Yang Bo, flustered, nodded reluctantly.

Zhu Yijun spoke gently: “There are reasons for this. Minister of War Wang Chonggu has yet to assume office; duties are piled up. This was merely a temporary measure.”

“What do you think, Grand Secretary Yang?”

Yang Bo was caught between a rock and a hard place.

His eyes darted left and right, catching the expressions of his colleagues—and Zhang Simei’s subtle signals.

He suddenly realized: the Emperor was deliberately cornering him!

If he bowed now, there was still room to maneuver; if not, Princess Qixia’s death would be laid at his feet!

He hurriedly said: “Your Majesty speaks wisely—I was shortsighted!”

Zhu Yijun nodded.

Only now did he turn to address Hu Xiao’s earlier petition.

He asked the court: “A comet invades the imperial asterism, its light illuminates the earth; palace fires spread through connected halls; my younger sister died suddenly from shock—does this mean I am unworthy?”

No sooner had he spoken than Li Zaiting stepped forward: “Your Majesty!”

“The arrival of auspicious stars signifies Your Majesty’s possession of capable ministers, heaven and earth in harmony; the palace fire reflects the prosperity of our dynasty’s Fire Virtue; Princess Qixia’s death is the fault of the physicians!”

“Hu Xiao stirs up trouble, barks like a mad dog, accuses the Son of Heaven—he deserves death by bastinado! I petition for his execution!”

Upon hearing Li Zaiting’s words, Jia Daiwen’s face darkened.

Anger flared on his face.

He pointed at Li Zaiting’s nose and shouted: “Censors report rumors—no censor has ever been punished for speech!”

“Li Zaiting, as a censor, you constantly demand the beating and killing of colleagues! You are a traitor—no different from Yan Song!”

He had long despised Li Zaiting for aiding the tyrant.

He had prepared a long rebuke—and was about to launch it.

Then a cold voice cut through: “Censor Jia, are you implying something indirect?”

He turned—and saw Gao Yi, eyes icy, staring at him.

Jia Daiwen’s face changed.

Bi Qiang, Right Vice Minister of Justice, stepped forward to support him: “Let us deliberate calmly…”

From the imperial dais came a sharp approval: “Indeed, let us deliberate calmly.”

Zhu Yijun looked at the court: “I asked whether these signs stem from my unworthiness—why does only Censor Li respond?”

“Have I become so unworthy that you all disdain me?”

Lu Diaoyang was drenched in sweat and moved to soothe him.

But the Emperor ignored him, continuing: “Censor Li’s words sound like mere comfort.”

“Now, celestial signs appear, terrestrial fire warns, and a close relative dies—how can I remain unmoved?”

“I have heard Censor Hu’s advice.”

At this, Zhang Juzheng’s heart lurched—he understood what was coming, and moved to speak.

But the Emperor gave him no chance, his voice icy: “From now on, I shall carefully transcribe Daoist scriptures and burn them as offerings to heaven and earth.”

“Moreover, in three days, I shall move to the Western Garden to cultivate virtue.”

“Continue your deliberations—I shall return to the palace.”

With that, the Emperor rose and left, ignoring the court’s reactions.

Almost instantly, the court erupted.

Zhang Juzheng, Gao Yi, and Lu Diaoyang all paled instantly—they understood the Emperor’s meaning at once.

Even Shen Shixing, Tao Dalin, and others who had watched silently now showed shock.

Only the new officials who had never lived through the Jiajing era remained confused, glancing around.

Their eyes searched for meaning.

“Your Majesty!”

A sudden cry came from Lu Diaoyang, the senior Grand Secretary.

Lu Diaoyang suddenly knelt in full prostration, voice trembling: “Your Majesty, I petition to strip Censor Hu Xiao of his office and reduce him to commoner status!”

Hu Xiao stiffened; Jia Daiwen and Bi Qiang suddenly realized the danger.

Zhu Yijun paused his steps.

Then he continued down the dais, shaking his head: “Do you think I cannot bear advice? Censor Hu is my Wei Zheng. Minister Wen, deliberate on how to promote Censor Hu.”

Saying this, Zhu Yijun turned to leave.

Wen Chun, who had always been ignored in court deliberations, received his first official task—and immediately moved to kneel and accept the order.

Shen Shixing grabbed his arm, signaling him not to move.

As the Emperor descended the dais, his figure about to vanish…

Gao Yi suddenly broke protocol, stepping forward several paces: “Your Majesty! I petition to imprison Censor Hu Xiao!”

Zhu Yijun halted, turning to Gao Yi.

His voice weary: “Master, let us discuss this later—I must comfort the two palaces and visit my younger sister.”

He nodded sadly at Gao Yi, then turned into the side hall, surrounded by eunuchs and Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Gao Yi immediately turned to Zhang Juzheng, his face dark: “Chief Minister! Will you pretend to be deaf and blind?!”

In court, the Deputy Chief Minister shouting at the Chief Minister—every official grew more terrified.

The protocol officer remained silent, as if he had heard nothing.

Zhang Juzheng’s expression flickered between dark and light.

He turned back to Gao Yi and dodged: “This isn’t just about Hu Xiao.”

Hu Xiao now knew full well he had become a pawn between the Grand Secretariat and the Emperor.

He looked pleadingly at Jia Daiwen.

Jia Daiwen knew he could not sit idle; he prepared to argue firmly: “Chief Grand Secretary…”

Zhang Juzheng finally had someone to vent his pent-up rage upon.

He whirled to face Jia Daiwen and roared: “Shut up!”

“Officer of Protocol! Silence this man!”

After unleashing his fury, he turned again to meet Gao Yi’s gaze.

Gao Yi gripped Zhang Juzheng’s arm tightly, his words spat through clenched teeth: “Chief Grand Secretary, are you truly going to stand by and watch another Shizong Emperor arise!?”

Note 1: Imperial Censor Hu Xiao of the Guangxi Circuit submitted a memorial: “Your Majesty reverently worships the ancestral temples, filially serves the Two Palaces, and benevolently safeguards the Four Seas—thus harmony should bring auspiciousness. Yet lately, a great star has entered the constellation of the Northern Dipper, its radiance illuminating the earth, visible before nightfall, causing alarm and bewilderment throughout the realm. Some interpret this as an omen of barbarian invasion; others as a sign of recurring famine; still others warn that threats loom on all frontiers, that internal treachery must not be ignored, that borderlands are vulnerable, and that the heart of the realm must be healed. Moreover, on the sixteenth night of this month, a fire broke out behind Ciqing Palace, consuming the quarters where imperial concubines reside—thus the portent clearly points to the palace women. Stars are yin, born of accumulated yin; when an ominous star enters the Dipper’s angle and fire anomalies appear within the palace, how can this be trivial? Once, when the Duke of Donghai executed a filial widow, rain ceased for three years—how much more so when two dynasties’ palace women are confined behind closed gates, the elderly unknown in fate, the young filled with resentment, widows and maidens suffering countless sorrows! Therefore, the most urgent task today to avert disaster is to release the palace women. I humbly beg that those previously favored in earlier reigns be treated with honor and examined, so each may find contentment; those never summoned, regardless of age, shall all be set free. Tang Gaozong was an unworthy ruler, Wu Zetian a cruel tyrant, nearly toppling the state—this need not be told to Your Majesty, yet past precedents must serve as warning. I further beg that one or two Grand Secretaries be summoned to investigate the origins of these portents: if the fault lies with the sovereign, how shall he set things right? If with treacherous ministers, how shall they be cast out? If with barbarians, how shall they be controlled? If with the common people, how shall they be pacified? Moreover, curb excesses by adhering to ancestral rites, economize to enrich the people’s livelihood, and promote study to broaden the path of governance—all these are ways to summon the harmony of Heaven and Earth, and open an endless, boundless reign of peace.” Upon reading it, the Emperor flew into a rage.