After giving his instructions, Zhu Yijun sat in quiet contemplation for a moment before setting off to pay his respects to the Two Palaces.
Over the past two days, he had racked his brains without a single moment's rest from constant scheming. Though his young body could endure it, the mental strain was truly exhausting.
And this was without even having begun handling court affairs; because of the mourning period, even his afternoon equestrian and archery practices had been waived.
Yet even so, he felt a weariness creeping into his bones.
No wonder so many past emperors had shunned the morning court. Striving to be an enlightened sovereign was hardly any easier than working a grueling 996 schedule.
Taking advantage of this rare chance to unwind his mind, Zhu Yijun declined the palanquin. Accompanied only by a few maids and eunuchs trailing behind him, he walked toward Empress Chen's palace.
Empress Chen was the late emperor's second legal wife, and because she bore no children, she had been relegated to a detached palace by the late emperor on the pretext of being "childless and chronically ill." The location was so remote it was practically indistinguishable from the Cold Palace, which meant a considerable trek for Zhu Yijun.
Fortunately, today he was not kept waiting outside the hall.
"Your Highness, Her Majesty the Empress invites you inside." Submissive and respectful, a palace maid led the way ahead.
Zhu Yijun nodded and followed behind her.
This Empress Chen was truly a pitiable figure. She held the status of the primary wife, yet had never enjoyed the emperor's favor.
Now the heir was about to ascend the throne, but he was not her own flesh and blood.
The eunuchs and palace maids flocked to fawn upon Noble Consort Li; scarcely anyone bothered to show warm courtesy to someone in Empress Chen's cold corner.
His predecessor had rarely met Empress Chen either. In his memory, she had an aloof, melancholic disposition.
"Please wait a moment, Your Highness. This servant will go inside to announce you," the maid said, pausing outside the door.
Being a detached palace, it possessed few halls or pavilions, and barely any decorations or furnishings could be seen inside.
Zhu Yijun looked around and gave a casual murmur of assent.
Before long, the maid reappeared and invited him in.
The moment Zhu Yijun stepped inside, he saw Empress Chen clad in the mourning vestments of an empress, leaning against a desk by the window.
Empress Chen appeared scarcely in her early thirties, possessed of exquisite beauty yet pale and frail. Her white ju robe—trimmed with gray collar, cuffs, borders, and hems—only made her complexion look even more wan.
On the front and back of the ju robe, woven cloud-and-dragon patterns in black and gold lent her an air of noble austerity.
Noticing Zhu Yijun enter, Empress Chen looked over.
Zhu Yijun took the lead in paying his respects. "This filial son wishes Imperial Mother peace and health."
Empress Chen's voice flowed like a clear spring as she murmured slowly, "With the late emperor gone, I have truly become the sorrowful widow sung about in the operas. Not a soul has visited this palace in days.
"Yesterday I was asleep at an inopportune hour and neglected my son."
Zhu Yijun could not help feeling a twinge of compassion. He replied, "That Imperial Mother's palace is so desolate is this child's fault. From now on, I will come every day to pay my respects to Imperial Mother."
Empress Chen gave a soft laugh. "You truly have filial piety. It figures—only a dutiful son would pine for the late emperor even in his dreams.
"Early this morning, I heard that my sister has been bragging to the noble ladies everywhere that your temperament has changed and you matured overnight. Seeing you now, you truly look the part. Very good."
Though she was not his birth mother, patriarchal ritual law took precedence, and her formal authority was greater, not lesser; Zhu Yijun dared not be remiss.
Having received praise, he naturally showed humility. "Imperial Mother's words are apt. In the past, this child indeed neglected his proper duties. I ask that Imperial Mother admonish and instruct me often in the days ahead."
Having reached this point, he seized the opening: "Imperial Mother, during our daily lectures we have recently been studying the Classic of History. While reviewing, this child found several points of confusion. Might I trouble Imperial Mother to enlighten me?"
Empress Chen was different from Consort Li; she came from a lineage of scholarly letters.
Her father hailed from a military family but took the imperial examinations repeatedly without passing. Her mother was the granddaughter of Zhang Wenzhi, Junior Guardian to the Heir Apparent and Minister of Rites.
Empress Chen had been well-versed in the Four Books and Five Classics from childhood, and naturally possessed deep insight into classical scholarship.
Of course, to Zhu Yijun, what he asked was unimportant; what mattered was the act of asking.
Those whom one helps are not necessarily grateful.
Conversely, the vast majority of people who have helped someone will look upon that person favorably.
This was a golden rule he had distilled from his past life.
Seeking guidance was an infallible tactic that unfailingly won the favor of superiors—though having the right to seek their counsel in the first place was often the hardest part.
Now, applying the same method to Empress Chen, it proved remarkably effective.
Empress Chen nodded, sitting up a bit straighter. "Indeed. At your age, the Classic of History can be rather abstruse. Tell me what is troubling you."
As she spoke, her brows and eyes softened into a smile, clearly relishing the role.
Zhu Yijun promptly had someone bring over a volume of the Classic of History.
Flipping through the pages, he wore a puzzled expression and asked question after question.
Most people relish playing the teacher, and Empress Chen was no exception. What was more, she rarely had anyone to converse with, so she naturally offered her guidance with enthusiasm.
Whenever Empress Chen offered an explanation, Zhu Yijun would show sudden enlightenment, then draw inferences to other matters.
With Zhu Yijun intentionally catering to her, hitting just the right chord every time, she became thoroughly absorbed without even realizing it.
Two hours passed in this manner.
After Zhu Yijun took his leave, Empress Chen, her mouth dry from talking, was still savoring the exchange.
While she sipped tea to moisten her throat, a chief eunuch trotted in with small steps. "Your Majesty, His Highness the Crown Prince has headed toward Noble Consort Li's palace."
Only then did Empress Chen snap back to reality and nod.
Gazing at the empty hall, a wistful sorrow surfaced on her face. She asked, "Chen Suan, tell me, why couldn't I have had a son?"
Eunuch Chen consoled her, "Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is your son."
Empress Chen gave a self-mocking smile. "True enough. He is a fine son—so fine that I cannot fathom how my 'dear' sister managed to bear him."
With that, she raised her head and looked out the window.
Almost murmuring to herself, she said, "Tell Chen Hong to rein himself in. Delivering memorials for Zhang Siwei behind my back, and only coming to beg for my help after Feng Bao caught him? Meng Chong died just yesterday. I cannot bear to see you old retainers depart this world before me one by one."
Both of these senior eunuchs surnamed Chen had originally been household servants of the Chen family who accompanied her into Prince Yu's Estate; their names had even been bestowed by her mother.
Chen Suan lowered his head almost to the floor. "This servant will go speak to him at once."
Empress Chen nodded, silently watching the daylight outside the window, saying no more.
...
When Zhu Yijun arrived outside Noble Consort Li's palace, he happened to see Feng Bao walking out from a distance.
Stepping into the bedchamber, he saw that Noble Consort Li's face was livid.
Though puzzled, he observed full etiquette: "This son wishes Imperial Concubine Mother peace and health."
Receiving no reply after his bow, he drew close to Consort Li and said with cautious affection, "Who made my mother angry? Tell me, Mother, and I'll go make trouble for them right away."
Furious, Noble Consort Li threw down a memorial, slamming it onto the table. "Look at this yourself!"
Zhu Yijun was perplexed, but kept his expression neutral.
He gently picked up the memorial and opened it.
It was an impeachment memorial from Gao Gong against Feng Bao, enumerating charges of misappropriating public authority for private ends, corruption, abusing fellow officials, and severing communication between the inner and outer courts, all laid out with irrefutable assertiveness.
Had Feng Bao been so honest as to deliver this directly to Noble Consort Li? So she was angry at Feng Bao? That seemed unlikely.
Zhu Yijun tested the waters: "Mother, such minor matters are not worth your fury."
Noble Consort Li lost her composure completely. "A minor matter?! Then what on earth counts as a major matter?!
"Just what is this Gao Gong trying to do?!
"Do you still think he is merely acting like typical civil officials in his clash with Senior Eunuch Feng?
"Do you know what he said?!"
Noble Consort Li hissed out the words through clenched teeth, her tone chillingly cold: "He said, 'A ten-year-old Son of Heaven—how can he rule over the empire!'"
Watching the agitated Noble Consort Li, Zhu Yijun quietly closed the memorial.
So this was Feng Bao's insidious ploy.
The difference between "how can he govern the empire" and "how can he rule over the empire as sovereign" was worlds apart.
It shifted the question from how a ten-year-old could govern the country into whether a ten-year-old was fit to be emperor at all.
This struck directly at Consort Li's most sensitive nerve. The moment those words were uttered, anything Gao Gong said in her presence became utterly worthless.
Once someone was loathed, they would never be viewed objectively.
And since Feng Bao was one of Noble Consort Li's own people, Gao Gong's impeachment memorial immediately became an overt provocation against the Inner Court and Consort Li herself.
A crude tactic, yet unfailingly potent.
Unfortunately, Zhu Yijun had no way to defuse it—after all, Gao Gong truly had said something along those lines.
Inhaling deeply, he assumed a look of shared indignation: "How dare he bully us, a widowed mother and orphan son?!
"Imperial Concubine Mother, in a few days when I ascend the throne, I will drive him out of the court!"
Noble Consort Li's expression softened slightly, though she was still far from appeased. She tore Gao Gong's memorial into shreds. "Such blatant treason! And yet Senior Eunuch Feng says that based on these words alone, we cannot convict him! Outrageous!"
This was keeping a memorial within the palace without action—quite literally.
Quick to read the room, Zhu Yijun summoned attendants to burn the torn scraps to ashes.
He did not stand idly by. Stepping forward immediately, he patted Noble Consort Li's back and comforted her: "Mother, do not waste your anger on an old pedant like him, or you will only be playing into his hands.
"Before Emperor Huizong of the Song dynasty ascended the throne, Chancellor Zhang Dun evaluated him by saying, 'Prince Duan is frivolous and unfit to rule the realm.' That was every bit as insolent as Gao Gong's remark.
"Yet subsequently, Emperor Huizong committed every kind of folly; the Jin invaders breached the capital, abducted him to the north, and he died at their hands, becoming the laughingstock of the empire—which only proved Zhang Dun's words right.
"Gao Gong today probably fancies himself another Zhang Dun, full of smug arrogance.
"Instead of feeding his schemes and reputation, Mother should make Gao Gong see clearly just how capable your son is, and how he will rule over all under heaven.
"When that day comes, I will bring up the past again and make him properly apologize to Mother."
Thanks to Zhu Yijun's soothing words, Noble Consort Li's complexion finally softened.
She scolded half-heartedly, "You've only studied for a few days, yet you speak with quotes and classical references, spinning one historical tale after another."
Zhu Yijun hurriedly took Noble Consort Li's arm. "It is all because Mother guides me so well that this child has learned some scholarship and reason."
Noble Consort Li shot him a glare. "Speaking of which, I haven't settled scores with you yet!"
Zhu Yijun blinked in apparent confusion.
Noble Consort Li tapped his forehead. "The eunuchs on duty at Wenhua Hall today reported that you looked absentminded during the daily lectures, letting your mind wander. Is that true or not?"
Hearing this, Zhu Yijun instantly understood what she meant and sighed inwardly.
These petty tattletales were truly never-ending. He had merely drifted into thought for a moment over his exchange with Zhang Juzheng, yet even that was reported straight to Noble Consort Li.
Needless to guess, the eunuchs on duty had passed word to Feng Bao, who then relayed it here.
Fortunately, he was not his predecessor, or he would have suffered a real grievance in silence.
Wiping the smile from his face, Zhu Yijun stood before Noble Consort Li, then dropped into a deep prostration.
Consort Li looked on in bewilderment.
Zhu Yijun offered no explanation. Remaining prostrate on the ground, he began reciting the content of that day's lecture word by word: "'When Taijia ascended the throne, he was unenlightened. Yi Yin banished him to Tong. After three years, he returned to Bo...'"
Though Noble Consort Li understood little of the classical text, she grasped what he was demonstrating, listening quietly while nodding repeatedly.
Before long, Zhu Yijun finished reciting the entire passage.
Yet he did not stop there; he proceeded to explain the meaning and moral of the text.
Noble Consort Li was thoroughly pleased, satisfied that her son had indeed studied earnestly today.
She spoke up: "All right, stand up."
Zhu Yijun remained still.
Only when Noble Consort Li was beginning to show slight impatience did Zhu Yijun finally finish reciting the entire day's curriculum.
Yet instead of rising, he bowed his head even lower: "Mother, yesterday this child promised you face-to-face to pursue learning, cultivate virtue, and never slacken in my duties.
"Today, I have naturally been diligent and conscientious, not daring to show the slightest negligence.
"Yet Mother rashly heeded the slander of petty men and undermined the dignity of the imperial heir. In doing so, how does this differ from Gao Gong?
"This child is so bold as to beg Mother to place a little more trust in me in the future. Watch with your own eyes whether I stray, rather than allowing petty men to whisper slander."
Caught off guard by Zhu Yijun's sudden stand, Noble Consort Li felt embarrassed and at a loss, her face flushing as she helped him up.
Turning her face aside, she murmured, "My son has truly grown up—he knows how to lecture his mother now."
Zhu Yijun pressed his point gently without letting go: "I am not lecturing Mother. It is only that Mother trusted outsiders over her own son, reproaching me without cause, and this child felt wronged."
Noble Consort Li coughed lightly. "All right, all right, Mother understands."
Seeing Noble Consort Li's stance finally soften, Zhu Yijun's face cleared from clouds to sunshine, and he hurriedly began massaging her shoulders.
Perceptions were turned around piece by piece like this.
To make others view you as dependable and worthy of trust, the optimal approach was to remain mild in demeanor while never surrendering your baseline, standing firm on reason through a humble posture.
Between mother and son, this was doubly essential; otherwise, once pegged as a spoiled mama's boy, growing older would never earn him real independence.
Coming back to herself, Noble Consort Li still felt she had lost some face, so she sought to cover for it: "It isn't that Mother doesn't believe in you.
"Look, censors have submitted memorials again, stating that the solar eclipse is Heaven's warning, largely caused by a lack of virtue in the sovereign. They urge you to introspect on your shortcomings, transcribe Daoist texts and Buddhist scriptures, and offer sacrifices to Heaven.
"Mother was merely checking for any oversights on your part, lest you truly offend Heaven."
With that, Noble Consort Li produced several memorials and handed them over.
Zhu Yijun was struck speechless, too weary to even take the memorials.
Such memorials never contained anything of substance, yet they held the high ground of political rectitude, leaving no room for refutation.
As for who could be so underhanded... it was most likely Zhang Juzheng.
Transcribing Buddhist and Daoist scriptures would take at least half a month of non-stop drudgery, draining mental and physical energy.
Aside from holding morning court and attending daily lectures, almost all his remaining time each day would be swallowed up by this.
In the past, he had been the one drowning his bosses' desks in miscellaneous, useless documents; now the tables were turned on him.
Retribution truly spared no one.
Frustratingly, he truly had no way to ignore such memorials—they were an inescapable part of current ritual protocol.
Just as prayers for rain were required during a drought, and an edict of self-reproach had to be issued if the palace caught fire, there was simply no dodging it.
Furthermore, Noble Consort Li's stance in presenting these memorials was clear: copying scriptures was a virtuous endeavor, so get to copying without delay.
Zhu Yijun could only comply: "When I return, this child will copy them diligently."
Noble Consort Li nodded in satisfaction, considering the matter settled.
Note 1: Empress Xiao'an of the Chen clan was a native of Tongzhou. In the ninth month of the thirty-seventh year of Jiajing, she was chosen as the successor consort of Prince Yu. In the first year of Longqing, she was invested as empress. Later, childless and frequently ill, she resided in a detached palace. — *History of Ming*, Biographies, Volume 2.
Chapter 15