The Great Ming dynasty. The first day of the sixth month in the sixth year of the Longqing reign, early morning. (The first day of the sixth lunar month, 1572.)
Ciqing Palace.
...
"The celestial dog is devouring the sun! It's a solar eclipse!"
"Do not panic! Attend to your duties and guard the Eastern Palace!"
Waves of clamor and shouting echoed relentlessly outside Ciqing Palace.
Inside the hall, Shi Yue half-reclined on the couch, resting his hand against his forehead, his expression dazed.
Two eunuchs stood bowed at his side, waiting to attend to his dressing.
Shi Yue paid them no heed, keeping his eyes tightly shut as he sorted through the jumbled barrage of information in his mind.
He remembered only that he had been in the middle of a regional inspection meeting when an abrupt solar eclipse occurred, and he immediately lost consciousness.
Upon waking, he found himself inexplicably here, followed by a torrent of chaotic memories flooding his mind.
The Ming dynasty... the sixth year of Longqing... Zhu Yijun... Crown Prince...
After a long while, he finally opened his eyes.
*Exhale...*
He let out a long breath.
Only now had Shi Yue barely managed to make sense of the tangled memories in his head.
With an odd expression, Shi Yue held up his hands.
By candlelight, he looked at his youthful body.
He had actually transmigrated...
The Great Ming was the dynasty in which this body lived.
Crown Prince Zhu Yijun was his current identity.
"That truly is an extraordinary identity." Shi Yue firmly rubbed the bridge of his nose.
In his previous life, he had fought his way up through the ranks; he naturally did not lack the general knowledge tested on public service exams. Zhu Yijun—wasn't that the personal name of the Wanli Emperor?!
If nothing else, he had at least heard of the Wanli Emperor who famously went "idle" and refused to hold court for thirty years.
Of course, he had looked into this period of history largely thanks to Zhang Juzheng's renown; his impression of the Wanli Emperor himself was naturally not particularly high.
Later generations even frequently claimed that the Ming dynasty truly fell under Wanli—after all, a mere twenty-four years after this emperor's death, the Ming met its end.
Whether that assessment was fair or not was another matter, as it was not his area of expertise.
Yet no matter how one looked at it, he was unquestionably an emperor of an empire in its twilight years.
Which dynasty in its decline was not riddled with deep-seated rot? The Ming at this time was plagued by every conceivable malady.
Official corruption was rampant.
State finances were drained and unsustainable.
The military was weak and ineffective.
The livelihood of the common people was destitute and wretched.
Surrounding foreign tribes carried out incessant raids.
Thinking of this, he suddenly remembered: wasn't it during the Wanli reign that the Jianzhou Jurchens rose to power?
Enduring the discomfort of his recent transmigration, he strained his memory to recall.
Once confirmed, Shi Yue could not help but smack his lips with an enigmatic smirk.
This starting hand truly offered both supreme power and immense responsibility. Who knew which supreme entity had devised this test for him?
Shi Yue gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
Yet, this test could not have picked a better candidate!
Who was Shi Yue?
Born of humble origins, he had worked his way through an undergraduate and master's degree, passed the civil service selection exams, and climbed the bureaucratic ladder through arduous grinding—serving in the tax bureau, town and township governments, the municipal industry bureau, and the provincial department of science and technology.
From then on, he had advanced like a hot knife through butter, his career path smooth beyond measure.
An emperor? Why couldn't he do it? It was merely the supreme central office!
A dynasty in decline? All the more reason to turn the raging tide, to prop up the falling edifice—that was precisely what a true man ought to do!
...
Zhu Yijun gradually calmed his emotions and analyzed his current situation.
On the twenty-sixth of the previous month, the late emperor passed away in Qianqing Palace. Today was the first of the month, meaning merely a few days had passed.
In other words, the throne was currently vacant.
Fortunately, Zhu Yijun had been established as Crown Prince four years ago; his succession was secure. Both before and after the late emperor's passing, formal edicts, handwritten decrees, and verbal instructions in various forms had all designated him as the successor.
His two elder brothers had died young, leaving only a younger brother who was still wet behind the ears, so there was no worry of political turbulence or contested succession.
Therefore, ascending the throne was merely a matter of going through the motions.
However, in all things, there is a "however."
The supreme seat under heaven was nothing more than title and real authority.
Having lived two lives and knowing both ancient and modern times, he had seen countless figures who held the empty title but lacked the actual reins of power.
During cadre critique meetings, were there few leading officials who couldn't even get a word in edgewise?
The same applied to the imperial throne.
Being called the emperor did not mean possessing the reality of an emperor.
Just like his current situation: even if he ascended the throne, he could only observe governance without the authority to intervene.
The reason?
He was only ten years old this year!
And that was according to nominal reckoning.
Zhu Yijun had been born in September 1563; by actual count, he was only eight years old.
This was naturally not an age at which he could rule in his own right, nor could civil and military officials comfortably entrust state affairs to him.
As someone from the future, he also knew that when the late Longqing Emperor passed away, someone in the Grand Secretariat sighed: "A ten-year-old Son of Heaven—how is he to rule the realm?"
How brazen was that? Yet that was the attitude of a high-ranking Grand Secretary.
As for divine right and mandates from Heaven?
That was good enough to hoodwink the common rabble and peasant women, but every single official was as shrewd as a demon.
Did they not all know what a ten-year-old child was like?
Not to mention the political climate of the Ming dynasty.
If a fire broke out in the palace, it was because the emperor had failed to cultivate virtue, incurring punishment from Heaven.
If his health failed, it was because the emperor was addicted to wine, lust, wealth, and temper, reaping what he sowed.
If a local rebellion broke out, it was because the emperor's extortions were boundless, oppressing the common people.
If the emperor retorted, asking if the officials bore no responsibility for governing the country,
the Censor Tan Yao would counter: "Why was all well in the past, yet everything goes awry today?" The Great Ming was fine before; why did everything fall apart once it reached your hands?
Indeed, every single one of these was something the Wanli Emperor had actually endured.
In short, it was always the emperor at fault!
And if the emperor truly wanted to govern diligently? Apologies, but your edicts of amnesty and decrees would simply be ignored.
Not only the civil officials, but even his birth mother, Noble Consort Li, treated him merely as a child, scolding and physically punishing him at the drop of a hat.
After the original host ascended the throne, he endured endless scoldings and was forced to kneel in punishment countless times.
He was even coerced into letting the Grand Secretariat draft an imperial edict of self-reproach in his name.
One could say that from top to bottom, inside and out, everyone was a traitor who treated the Son of Heaven like a mere toddler!
Of course, he *was* a child, so there was nothing inherently wrong with treating him as one; everyone was simply seeking truth from facts.
Yet different positions determine different perspectives. Zhu Yijun naturally and consciously adopted the standpoint he ought to hold.
The situation was what it was. In other words, he lacked any "mass base" to rule in his own right.
Just as he thought this—
*Pain, pain, pain.*
His temples suddenly throbbed violently!
Zhu Yijun frowned and hurriedly halted his train of thought.
He had just transmigrated, after all, and occupied the body of a ten-year-old child. Engaging in deep thought immediately brought on a splitting headache.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and only after quite a while did his brow relax.
Just then,
an elderly eunuch rushed in carrying a candle.
"Your Highness! Why have you gone back to bed?! The officials are waiting at Wenhua Hall. Please make haste and accompany this minister at once, or else when Her Ladyship the Noble Consort arrives, you will be reprimanded again!"
Seeing Zhu Yijun still half-reclining on the couch, the eunuch urged him in an anxious tone.
Hearing the old eunuch invoke Noble Consort Li, Zhu Yijun's heart gave a jolt, and a subconscious wave of panic washed over him.
He instantly realized this was an instinct inherited from the original host—the terror a ten-year-old child felt toward a birth mother who berated him at every turn.
Zhu Yijun took a deep breath, suppressing the previous host's instinct, and slowly raised his head to scrutinize the slightly sinister old eunuch bowing deferentially before him.
The Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, Grand Supervisor of the Eastern Depot, and supervisor of the Directorate of Imperial Horses: Feng Bao.
He easily matched the man to the figure in his memory.
From that long string of titles, one could tell he was a prominent figure.
In truth, he was indeed quite the figure.
This Feng Bao was no ordinary man; he was one of the Ming dynasty's most famous eunuchs.
Famous in what way?
He was a eunuch prominent enough to have his own biography in the official histories!
During the ten years in history before Zhu Yijun took the reins of power, this very man led the Directorate of Ceremonial, linking Empress Dowager Li and the Grand Secretariat in a triumvirate that jointly governed the empire.
Empress Dowager Li exercised imperial authority on the emperor's behalf, the Grand Secretariat handled government affairs, and Feng Bao wielded a veto over it all.
This chief eunuch stood as one of the three people at the pinnacle of power during those ten years.
As for the emperor who had yet to rule in his own right, he didn't even rank.
Throughout that period, this chief eunuch served as Zhu Yijun's chief attendant, tasked with supervising and restricting the young emperor's daily life. If the young emperor exhibited any immature words or deeds, Feng Bao would report them to Empress Dowager Li.
The Wanli Emperor suffered no shortage of reprimands because of him.
Consequently, Feng Bao frequently brandished Empress Dowager Li's authority as an imperial mandate, frightening Zhu Yijun with her name all day long and admonishing him at every turn.
If that were all, it might have been tolerated, but what was even more encroaching was that whenever an opportunity was lacking, Feng Bao would manufacture one, covertly setting traps for Zhu Yijun and then lodging complaints with Empress Dowager Li.
He painted the Wanli Emperor as a mischievous, undisciplined child who would never grow up.
This left the Wanli Emperor walking on thin ice and further deepened Empress Dowager Li's habit of treating Zhu Yijun as a mere child.
In history, the Wanli Emperor surely harbored deep resentment, to the point of declaring, "Feng Bao deceived his sovereign and harmed the realm; his crimes are grave and heinous."
Zhu Yijun narrowed his eyes and quietly observed the chief eunuch before him.
Around the time of the late emperor's passing, this man had divined the intentions of the two dowager palaces, persuaded Noble Consort Li, and driven out Meng Chong—who had plied the late emperor with beautiful women and potent aphrodisiacs daily—thereby seizing the position of Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial from Meng Chong's grasp.
Holding concurrent commands over the Eastern Depot and the inner palace guard, he had leaped to become the most prominent and powerful figure among the court eunuchs.
Such a grand eunuch now urged him with an anxious, caring expression, appearing as though he were genuinely fretting on Zhu Yijun's behalf.
*Tsk, what consummate acting,* Zhu Yijun mused inwardly.
Having spent years navigating the bureaucracy, his own acting skills were hardly lacking. With Zhu Yijun's memories, mimicking seventy to eighty percent of his predecessor's tone and demeanor without revealing flaws was child's play.
He slowly sat up. "You have taken great trouble, Chief Attendant. This prince shall change into mourning attire at once."
Currently in mourning, wearing mourning attire was obligatory.
Having spoken, Zhu Yijun set his feet firmly on the ground, stood up, and opened his arms, summoning the palace maids to dress him.
Unrushed and unhurried, his bearing was entirely composed.
Outside, the solar eclipse was still underway, but inside the hall, the candlelight shone brightly. Feng Bao stole a surprised glance up at Zhu Yijun.
Today, the Crown Prince seemed somewhat different from usual.
In the past, the moment Zhu Yijun heard that Noble Consort Li was coming, he would have been flustered and panicked, hurrying frantically for fear of being scolded.
Yet now, he was poised, unhurried, and meticulous.
Could it be that having the imperial throne within reach had given him a completely new demeanor?
An inexplicable unease stirred in Feng Bao's heart, an itch born of something slipping out of his grasp.
He had not even realized it himself—or perhaps was unwilling to admit it—that the power vacuum left by an emperor unable to rule in his own right was simply too alluring!
Rule in his own right? Feng Bao would rather he never grew up, leaving imperial power in the hands of the Directorate of Ceremonial forever!
...
While Zhu Yijun was changing into his mourning attire, commotion arose outside once again.
"Jun'er! Why are you still dawdling?!"
A noblewoman strode in through the door, flanked by two rows of female palace officials behind her.
The woman was attractive, around twenty years of age, with a full, voluptuous figure and fair, delicate skin. Yet her face was clearly clouded with displeasure as she marched straight into the hall with furrowed brows.
The moment she entered, the maids and eunuchs in the hall dropped to their knees in unison.
Feng Bao hurried forward to greet her. "This servant greets Her Ladyship the Noble Consort."
Zhu Yijun cast an impassive glance at the old eunuch.
*Before me, you presume upon your status and refer to yourself as 'this minister', but before my imperial mother, you style yourself as a household slave, do you?*
He noted this down in his ledger against the man.
Only then did he look up at the newcomer.
She was none other than the original host's birth mother, Noble Consort Li.
At present, he had not yet succeeded the throne, so the Noble Consort was not yet the Empress Dowager.
Speaking of Lady Li, she was a textbook example of a strict mother.
Her demands on Zhu Yijun were exceptionally high. His every movement and gesture had to conform to proper decorum; every Confucian classic had to be thoroughly mastered. If he fell short in the slightest, scoldings and physical punishment immediately followed.
She even threatened the young emperor with deposition.
Under the Ming dynasty's system, it was practically impossible for Lady Li to depose the emperor, let alone over minor issues of deportment.
It was much like mothers in his previous life warning a child that if they didn't behave, a scary stranger would take them away.
What was more, after the Wanli Emperor ascended the throne, Lady Li moved directly into Qianqing Palace, where the young emperor resided, solely to supervise Zhu Yijun closely, only moving out after he married.
Her strictness and severity were evident.
Now, not long after the late emperor's passing, affairs were in disarray.
For Zhu Yijun to ascend the throne, proper procedures had to be observed.
Three formal petitions to ascend the throne were indispensable; today was the second.
He had to proceed to Wenhua Hall to receive the officials' petition and decline it in accordance with ritual.
Only upon the third petition could he smoothly assume the throne.
For him to dally and drag his feet in the palace over such a momentous matter naturally provoked Noble Consort Li's visible displeasure.
He had not even ascended the throne yet, so how could this be tolerated!
The wrath on Noble Consort Li's face was already on the verge of erupting.
Zhu Yijun had already prepared his response in his mind.
He merely adjusted his belt, straightened his posture with solemn dignity, bowed with meticulous propriety, and spoke: "Your imperial son greets Mother Consort."
Having spoken, before Noble Consort Li could lash out, he continued, "There is a reason for this. Mother, please allow your child to explain."