Night fell outside the Qianqing Palace.
...
Standing outside the hall, Zhang Hong nervously adjusted his robes.
At his side, his godson Zhang Jing held up a lantern. "Godfather, you've been fussing over them for nearly a quarter of an hour. Rest easy, your son has been keeping watch—everything is worn strictly by the book!"
Zhang Hong ignored him, merely offering a slight nod of his chin.
Taking the hint at once, the godson held out his hand to catch the clove Zhang Hong spat out.
It was used to freshen the breath and banish unpleasant odors.
At a moment like this, Zhang Hong did not dare make the slightest slip.
Ever since the late Emperor ascended the throne, Zhang Hong, as a veteran from Prince Yu's former estate, had not enjoyed the extraordinary fortune of Meng Chong, but he had nevertheless risen on his master's coattails. The lucrative post at the Needlework Bureau had practically been his personal fiefdom.
Yet those good days had not lasted long before the late Emperor passed away!
He had reigned for merely six years!
To Zhang Hong, the news was nothing short of the sky collapsing.
A new sovereign brought new courtiers. Had not the turnover between Meng Chong and Chen Hong happened the instant the late Emperor died?
Zhang Hong knew he would be no exception and had prepared himself early on.
To that end, he had yielded the Needlework Bureau to Feng Bao's godsons and taken the initiative to become a chief eunuch in the Directorate of Imperial Shrines. Managing an austere, unlucrative post at the Imperial Ancestral Temple was his way of seeking peace and retirement.
Did he wish to step down? Was he willing to withdraw? He had simply been compelled by the circumstances.
Over these past few days and nights, his mind would invariably drift back to his days at the Needlework Bureau, where every call of his was answered by a hundred voices and lesser servants fawned upon him at every turn.
Yet upon waking, he was greeted only by the cold, desolate sight of countless incense lamps and spirit tablets in the Imperial Ancestral Temple.
He had believed the rest of his days would ebb away like this.
Who could have guessed that merely a few days later, an abrupt decree would arrive from Noble Consort Li, not only ordering him into the Directorate of Ceremonial, but also assigning him to serve directly before the Crown Prince!
An opportunity! A monumental opportunity!
Presented with such a windfall from the heavens, how could he dare show the slightest carelessness?
Having finally finished tidying himself, Zhang Hong lowered his hands and turned to his godson. "That's enough. Head back. I am going in to see the Crown Prince."
Sending his godson away, he drew a deep breath before stepping up to the hall doors.
"Pardon the trouble, please announce to the Crown Prince that inner court servant Zhang Hong..."
Before he could finish, the young eunuch at the door smiled. "Of course I recognize Director Zhang. The Crown Prince instructed that whenever you arrived, you may proceed straight inside without further announcement."
With that, the young eunuch stepped aside and gestured politely for him to enter.
Zhang Hong hurriedly expressed his thanks, his heart growing even more apprehensive.
He did not know how Noble Consort Li had come to choose him, but he was resolved to grasp this opportunity with both hands.
Had not Feng Bao vaulted to the heavens simply by winning Noble Consort Li's trust? If Feng Bao could do it, why not Zhang Hong?
So long as he performed this duty entrusted by Noble Consort Li well and left a lasting impression in her heart, taking Feng Bao's place was by no means out of the question!
The Crown Prince was merely a ten-year-old child, after all. Coaxing and attending to him would hardly be difficult, yet it offered an excellent chance to distinguish himself before Noble Consort Li.
Besides, it was not as though he had never served the Crown Prince. Back at Prince Yu's Estate, he had coddled and held the boy countless times. With that past rapport to build upon, and with the boy now old enough to reason with and read, there should be little trouble.
What was more, this young Crown Prince was famously easy to dupe.
Only last year, having grown engrossed in playthings brought by young eunuchs, he had been reported to Noble Consort Li by Feng Bao.
So long as Zhang Hong humored the boy a little and applied himself toward Noble Consort Li, would he still have to swallow insults from juniors like Feng Bao?
Musing on this, Zhang Hong bowed his back and moved into the Qianqing Palace with quick, shuffling steps.
The Qianqing Palace was the sovereign's bedchamber, but amidst the transition between old and new, many furnishings had already been cleared out to be buried alongside the departed Emperor.
Once the late Emperor's catafalque was transferred, the new monarch would take up residence.
Thus, the hall currently appeared somewhat desolate.
Moreover, with the coffin lying in state, very few lanterns and candles were lit to avoid disturbing the departed spirit, leaving half the great hall plunged in gloom.
Lacking the rank to carry a lantern inside, Zhang Hong could only tread cautiously through the hall. His steps were extremely slow, yet faint echoes still rose around him.
All about the hall stood Buddhist and Daoist ritual paraphernalia, talismans, and similar accouterments.
The occasional chime of a singing bowl drifted from within, faint and distant.
The late Emperor had treated these inner court servants with great generosity, yet had passed away in the prime of his thirties. As an old servant, Zhang Hong could not help feeling a pang of sorrow.
Pity that he himself was already nearing fifty. He had originally counted on basking in the late Emperor's favor to live out his remaining years in comfort, never expecting the black-haired sovereign would depart before the gray-haired servant.
Had he been ten years younger, he could have aspired to serve this new ruler diligently and soar to great heights once the boy assumed personal rule.
Alas, he could not afford to wait. The new ruler was only ten; by the time that day arrived, Zhang Hong would likely have one foot in the grave.
His only hope was to seize this chance to win favor before Noble Consort Li.
With his seniority, all that stood between him and the highest echelons of the inner court was a single approving glance from an imperial patron.
Reflecting on this, he recalled that the Imperial Noble Consort had clearly stated he was to kowtow and pay his respects tomorrow morning, yet the new monarch had summoned him to pay homage before the late Emperor's bier at this hour.
Should he secretly report this to Noble Consort Li?
As his mind wandered, he suddenly realized the scene ahead had shifted. An unsealed coffin came into view.
He had already reached the inner sanctum of the hall!
From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a figure kneeling beside the coffin. In the darkened hall, he could not make it out clearly. Was this the ten-year-old new monarch?
With the thought crossing his mind, Zhang Hong hurriedly dropped to his knees, burying his head to pay his respects. "Inner court servant Zhang Hong, in obedience to Noble Consort Li's command, comes to pay his respects to the Crown Prince."
Anticipating that the Crown Prince would invite him to rise, he had already tensed his knees in preparation, yet the expected response never came.
His balance nearly wavered, but Zhang Hong steadied himself at once, planting his knees firmly back upon the floor.
With the Crown Prince remaining silent, the hall fell into a stillness that left Zhang Hong feeling inexplicably uneasy.
Fortunately, it did not last long.
Through the corner of his eye, he saw the silhouette beside the coffin slowly rise to its feet.
Just as Zhang Hong assumed he was about to be told to rise, a voice carrying a cold sneer drifted into his ears.
"You grand eunuchs are all addressed as 'Old Ancestor,' yet before this prince, you merely call me 'Sire.' What, do you take yourselves for my ancestors?"
Those incisive words struck Zhang Hong like a thunderbolt!
He was utterly stunned.
The two terms were entirely different matters—why had this Crown Prince suddenly flown into a rage?
The accusation was far too grave; he dared not imagine what fate awaited him if such words reached the ears of those outside!
Almost prostrating himself flat against the floor, he knocked his head heavily in repeated kowtows. "This servant would never dare! This servant would never dare!"
Zhu Yijun watched with cold eyes.
A first impression was of paramount importance. Without a proper dressing-down, there was no guarantee another Feng Bao would not emerge.
He was keeping vigil over the late Emperor's bier, a place where neither Buddhist monks, Daoist priests, nor palace guards were permitted to enter. He had chosen this very setting so that he would not need to dissemble or feign childish innocence.
Before the late Emperor's coffin, an air of solemn gravity naturally prevailed, tolerating no impertinence, while the dim lighting obscured his youthful frame.
It was all designed to bring this man thoroughly to heel.
"Zhang Hong, lift your head."
Zhang Hong was still desperately trying to fathom the Crown Prince's thoughts when, hearing the command, he looked up instinctively.
In the dim, shadowy hall, the new monarch stood turned halfway from him, half his body veiled in darkness, the light playing indistinctly across his face. With one hand resting upon the coffin, he stood a short distance away, casting a shadow that fell squarely across Zhang Hong, magnifying his small frame to immense proportions.
Was this a ten-year-old child?!
Zhang Hong felt an unfathomable pressure, even heavier than that of the late Emperor!
It almost felt as though he were standing before the Shizong Jiajing Emperor himself!
A voice came down to him. "This is my late imperial father. Pay your homage."
His mind in utter turmoil, unable to grasp what was happening, Zhang Hong hurriedly bowed and kowtowed in a flurry of devotion.
With his forehead pressed to the floor, his posture was exceedingly subservient.
Zhu Yijun's tone became solemn and deliberate. "Zhang Hong, born in the first year of Jiajing, the son of a peasant family. Sold into the palace by your parents in the eleventh year of Jiajing.
"In the thirty-sixth year of Jiajing, you entered Prince Yu's Estate to serve before my late imperial father.
"After the first year of Longqing, you served successively in the Weaving Bureau, as a eunuch of the Beijing Garrisons, and in the Needlework Bureau. Four days ago, you were placed in charge of the Directorate of Imperial Shrines.
"Has this prince remembered anything amiss?"
Listening to the Crown Prince recite his entire career word for word, Zhang Hong grew increasingly unnerved.
"Your Highness's memory is extraordinary, your mind vast and magnificent, to retain even the humble origins of this base servant! This servant is filled with trepidation!"
These were common facts, known to everyone in the palace.
Yet coming from the Crown Prince's mouth at this moment, the effect was entirely different.
Had not Noble Consort Li issued a decree ordering him to look after the Crown Prince? Why then did the Crown Prince know his background so thoroughly? Could it be that the Crown Prince had personally selected him?
Zhu Yijun tapped lightly on the coffin, the rhythmic thuds echoing through the hollow hall.
"Instead of staying in the Needlework Bureau to enjoy its spoils, you went off to sweep the Imperial Ancestral Temple. What, were you planning to retire from old age?"
For a moment, Zhang Hong did not know how to evade the question. "This servant... this servant is growing advanced in years, and my energy..."
Zhu Yijun abruptly cut him off. "You shrank in fear before Meng Chong, and you yielded three paces before Feng Bao.
"Yet coming before this prince, you dare deceive your sovereign.
"Zhang Hong, do you fancy yourself Gao Gong, or do you fancy yourself Feng Bao? What makes you think you can take advantage of this prince's youth?"
Zhang Hong shuddered violently, feeling as though he had plunged into an icy pool!
Those words jolted him awake!
In a flash of realization, everything that had felt discordant fell into place!
How could this possibly be the ignorant child whispered about in palace rumors?
What ignorant child would dare hold hostility toward the Inner Minister and contempt toward the Senior Grand Secretary?!
In the Crown Prince's words, the affairs of state and the palace were clearly mastered inside and out; his chest harbored grand designs, and his sagacious intellect was already fully awakened!
The rumors surrounding him were likely nothing more than a disguise to bide his time and gather strength!
The vacant post of Superintendent Eunuch from this morning, and even his own appointment by Noble Consort Li—the Crown Prince before him undoubtedly had a hand in it all!
With this sudden illumination, the Crown Prince's figure loomed even taller in his eyes!
Ten years old! A new ruler whose intellect was already awakened at ten was an extreme rarity in history.
The First Emperor, Ying Zheng, had become king at thirteen, sweeping across the six realms and subduing all under heaven.
Emperor Zhezong of Song, Zhao Xu, had ascended the throne at nine, reviving the New Policies and twice defeating Western Xia.
Which of them was not divinely gifted in culture and martial vigor, naturally endowed with heroic decisiveness?!
If the Crown Prince, Zhu Yijun, was also such a figure, why would Zhang Hong bother trying to fawn upon Noble Consort Li? What sage monarch did not strive for power!
Emperor Yingzong had taken the throne at nine, and even while biding his time, he had waited merely eight months before elevating Wang Zhen to the position of Seal-holding Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial!
With a sage ruler before him, how could he not scramble to become his faithful hound?!
Indecision would only bring ruin! A resolve instantly formed in his heart, and he replied in a trembling voice, "Master's vision is as bright as a torch! This servant indeed yielded the Needlework Bureau only to avoid the brunt of Feng Bao's edge."
Zhu Yijun looked at Zhang Hong in silence.
He understood what was going through Zhang Hong's mind.
Though he was merely ten years old, as long as he demonstrated the capability to govern and seize power, there would always be a faction rallying tightly around him.
Why? Political prospects and political promises were his bedrock leverage, as well as a sovereign's greatest advantage!
With that foundation, and by drawing upon decades of standing in high authority to intentionally project an overwhelming aura, subduing Zhang Hong was no difficult feat.
"Oh? Since you fear offending Feng Bao, you had best not serve before this prince after all."
Catching the implication, Zhang Hong felt his heart leap into his throat.
He immediately crawled forward until he was prostrated at the Crown Prince's feet. "Receiving the Crown Prince's favor and promotion, this servant will brave boiling water and tread upon fire, shrinking not from ten thousand deaths!"
Zhu Yijun shook his head. "It was my imperial mother who favored and promoted you."
Zhang Hong knocked his head repeatedly. "Now that this servant has arrived before Master, it is Master's grace I have received, and my eyes see no one else!"
Zhu Yijun finally smiled.
He let out a soft chuckle, and remembering there was no one else in the hall, he allowed himself a bold, uninhibited laugh.
Cold sweat poured down Zhang Hong's forehead, but he did not dare wipe it away.
"Zhang Hong, my late imperial father once praised you in my presence. Do you know what he said?"
Without waiting for Zhang Hong to reply, Zhu Yijun continued with an undiminished smile, "He praised you as a loyal and good servant.
"Are you?"
The question seemed to drift down from the clouds, causing Zhang Hong's soul to shudder within him.
Without the slightest hesitation, he kowtowed repeatedly. "Sire! Zhang Hong is a domestic servant of the imperial household—how could I dare be anything less than utterly loyal!"
Zhang Hong remained prostrated, offering his heartfelt confession, yet no gracious reply came from the Crown Prince.
Only from the corner of his eye, where his vision grazed the floor, did he see a pair of boots brush past him.
A voice drifted back from behind, growing steadily fainter with each step: "I want a list of all eunuchs dispatched on tax-inspection tours to Huguang during the Longqing reign. Look into it and confirm every detail."
With those words spoken, no further sound came.
Only the rhythmic footsteps departing into the distance echoed through the hall, their fading reverberations lingering in the air.
Zhang Hong collapsed limp against the floor.
Tugging at his collar, he found his back entirely drenched in sweat, as though he had just walked through a mountain of blades and a sea of fire.
Even with an intellect awakened early, that imperial majesty was simply overwhelming!
A ten-year-old new monarch? If someone told him this was an emperor who had held supreme power from high above for decades, he would believe it without question!
The four characters of that parting command in particular had sent a shiver through his very core.
The calculated cadence and practiced manner had utterly overwhelmed him!
Panting heavily, he suddenly remembered his duty and scrambled upright.
Facing the direction in which the Crown Prince had departed, he kowtowed once more, calling out into the empty hall, "This servant respectfully sees off Master!"
...
Looking at the wattle fence he had just finished repairing, Gao Yi nodded in satisfaction and stretched his back.
The chickens and ducks kept in this corner of the courtyard had constantly slipped out; the trouble was finally resolved.
He had originally wanted to build a stone wall, but this single-courtyard residence was rented. Though the landlord had not dared refuse him outright, the man had clearly been reluctant to let him build a wall, so Gao Yi had dropped the matter.
Today was the first of the month, and the court had at least paid half of the back salary owed to officials, which finally allowed him to mend the fence.
As he was admiring his handiwork, an old servant approached. "Master, someone has arrived from Grand Secretary Zhang's residence."
Gao Yi was startled.
Why had Zhang Juzheng sent someone?
While official communication among grand secretaries was essential, excessive private contact was somewhat taboo, especially during this sensitive period of national mourning.
He looked toward the old servant. "Where is he? Why haven't you invited him inside?"
The old servant held up a book with both hands. "He asked this old servant to deliver this book to Master, saying he has a presumptuous request. The man is waiting outside for Master's reply."
Gao Yi took it and glanced down. It was a copy of the Classic of History.
Why had Zhang Juzheng sent him this book?
"What presumptuous request?"
The old servant replied, "He asked whether Master might lecture on this passage tomorrow."
Tomorrow? At the Crown Prince's daily lectures? Puzzled, Gao Yi flipped through the volume and indeed found a dog-eared page.
He turned to that page and suddenly froze.
Then he fell silent.
After a long pause, he let out a heavy sigh. "Tell Grand Secretary Zhang that I agree to this matter, but it shall not set a precedent."
"Yes, Master," the old servant answered, hurrying off.
...
"Master, Grand Secretary Gao says he has agreed to the matter, but it shall not set a precedent."
A young attendant lifted the carriage curtain and spoke in a low voice.
Zhang Juzheng said nothing, merely nodding.
He lifted his eyes toward the gate of Gao Yi's courtyard, then lowered the curtain. "Let us go. Return to the residence."
He lightly stroked his temples; having pondered matters too deeply today, he seemed to have gained another couple of white hairs.
He could not tell whether he was thinking too much or too little.
The late Emperor's manifestation... the Superintendent Eunuch... the questioning before the court... Zhang Hong...
Just how much mettle did this Crown Prince truly possess?
Tomorrow would let him see for himself.
Chapter 9