At the same time,
Emperor Jiajing, Zhu Houcong, sat in meditation as usual in the Yuxi Palace, his expression particularly forlorn and sorrowful. Lu Fang, the Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, attended him solicitously.
While others were unaware of the inner workings, Lu Fang knew very well: the Emperor had been in a terrible mood recently. It wasn't due to the literary tributes, nor the fire at the Wanshou Palace, but because of Prince Yu... Prince Yu was nearing forty, yet his understanding of the art of emperorship had not progressed in the slightest, and he couldn't grasp the Emperor's thoughts at all.
The Emperor was old, over sixty. Could he entrust the empire to this son? But if not Prince Yu, then who else was there...
Others might not know, but did Lu Fang not know? The fourth son, Prince Jing Zhu Zaizhen, had gone mad over ten years ago... This was a royal secret, known to fewer than ten people in the realm. Therefore, the Emperor, who already had no zest for life, was faced with such a sole son, how could he not despair?
Furthermore, those upright officials were simply too incompetent! Did they really think they could challenge the Yan family based on their abilities? If they couldn't even write a decent literary tribute, how could the Emperor entrust the state to them? If they had only been able to grasp even a sliver of the Emperor's thoughts, they wouldn't have incurred such wrath...
Lost in thought, Lu Fang couldn't help but sigh softly. This incredibly faint sigh, however, was heard by Jiajing.
"Lu Fang, what are you sighing about...?"
Lu Fang instantly stiffened. "Your Majesty, this servant feels that the scholars in the Hanlin Academy cannot write anything good. Your Majesty should not be too angry; be careful not to harm your immortal body..."
Hmph!
Jiajing opened his deep and wise eyes, gazing at Lu Fang with a gaze as sharp as cold lightning for a moment, then closed them slightly.
"Send someone to the Hanlin Academy to have a look... Don't push them to death..."
"As you command."
...
After Lu Fang and Huang Jin withdrew, and the Yuxi Palace was restored to its deathly silence, Jiajing opened his eyes again, a profound sense of desolation welling up.
Being an emperor was too tiring, too lonely. Everyone in the world had a confidant to talk to, but an emperor could not.
Everyone in the world had a small family to gather with, but an emperor could only hide his unspeakable troubles deep within his heart, bearing them silently alone...
The reason he had flown into a rage was not for the matters of state. It was because the recent fire at the Wanshou Palace had caused him frequent nightmares. Every night, as soon as he closed his eyes, his mind was filled with scenes of blazing fires, tragic wails, and chaotic warfare. The descendants of Zhu, no better than pigs and dogs, oppressed by powerful officials, struggling to live or die in times of turmoil...
And each time he woke startled, he immediately thought of one person—
Zhu Zaimo!
This person, and this name, were the most closely guarded secrets of the present dynasty. Even Lu Fang, who had served him for forty years, knew nothing about it.
Zhu Zaimo was his fifth son.
In his life, he had fathered nine sons. The first two died in infancy. The third son was Prince Yu. The fourth son, Prince Jing Zhu Zaizhen, had gone mad ten years ago and was currently confined in the Imperial Manor in Anlu Prefecture, Hubei. The other four younger ones had all died before their first year, never even being granted names.
And Zhu Zaimo was his fifth son, hidden among the common people. Neither the genealogy records, nor the officials or the populace knew anything about him. But this even more ill-fated child had also died fifteen years ago...
What a clever and wise child he was, not only as intelligent as himself but also possessing a resolute character much like the founding emperor. If he were still alive, the empire could be safely handed over to him. But heaven was blind; such a good child had met such a tragic and painful end...
During the fire at the Wanshou Palace that day, in his daze, he seemed to see a child desperately shouting in the flames. The child's appearance was vaguely like his own youngest son, Zhu Zaimo! He suddenly shook his head to clear his senses, but afterward, the image never left him. From that day on, he felt as if a knife were lodged in his heart, gouging and tearing at him every moment...
Sitting alone for a long time, unconsciously, his hazy tears suddenly became as heavy as lead, flowing down uncontrollably. Endless sorrow and grief surged from the depths of his heart. He soon heard a beast trapped in a cage roaring from his own throat...
...
Twenty years ago.
He had ascended the throne for ten years. Returning to the Chu region to pay respects at the imperial tombs, on that day of blooming spring, what should have happened, happened. The following year, he had his second son and named him Zhu Zaimo.
At that time, the court situation was complex. For the safety of his second son, he raised him in an Imperial Manor by the Han River, assigning thirty imperial guards and sixty servants to attend him. Five years later, he intended to issue a decree to the empire, enfeigning his second son Zhu Zaimo as the Prince of Wu, but an accident occurred.
A mysterious fire reduced the Imperial Manor to ashes, and Zhu Zaimo's whereabouts became unknown. No matter how much torture was inflicted or how many investigations were conducted, the cause of the disaster from that year could not be ascertained. It wasn't until three years later that the Embroidered Uniform Guard found a fisherman by the Yangtze River, who said that three years prior, he had seen a Daoist priest crossing the river with a child. The child was dressed in silk brocade, clearly not from an ordinary family.
He still remembered the ecstatic joy at that time, immediately rewarding the fisherman with a thousand taels of gold. But for the next five years, a full five years, his despair grew with each passing year. The Embroidered Uniform Guard searched the entire realm but could find no clues. After exiling and executing those who knew the details, he also lost heart, no longer believing such nonsense, and resigned himself to reality, convinced that the child must have perished in the fire...
Afterward, he had four more sons, but without exception, they all died before reaching a year old. It was like a curse, leaving him with no joy for the latter half of his life...
In recent years, the court situation had become extremely dangerous. Every night, when he counted the usable individuals and feasible strategies, he felt a thorough sense of loneliness and helplessness. This was because the Yan faction could not be destroyed by a mere imperial decree.
For over twenty years, they had formed an unprecedentedly vast network, encompassing the two capitals and thirteen provinces. A single move could set off a chain reaction, and a slight misstep could lead to usurpation. Yes, as long as he, Jiajing, remained, the Yan father and son would absolutely not dare to act rashly. But what about the future?
Currently, the southeastern coast was fighting against Japanese pirates, and the north was resisting the Tatars, while the national treasury was empty. With what resources could he dismantle the Yan faction? If he were to punish Yan Shifan now, would the Yan faction immediately attempt to usurp the throne? The upright officials had never even considered these questions.
The reason he had harshly reprimanded the Minister of Rites was to awaken these upright officials: now was not the time to eradicate the Yan faction; any hasty move would only strengthen them further. And the thought of Prince Yu's gentle and weak son filled him with even greater despair...
Because he was confident in his ability to defeat the Yan family, but what about the future? The future would belong to Xu Jie, and then to the unfathomable Zhang Juzheng. How could Prince Yu contend with them? Would Xu and Zhang become a second Yan Song, or even more terrifying than Yan Song? Or perhaps, they lacked Yan Song's command ability, and the empire would then slide into chaos?
Therefore, the Great Ming Dynasty absolutely did not need a mediocre talent at this moment. It needed an iron-fisted emperor, similar to the founding emperor, Emperor Chengzu, or himself.
Because this dynasty had rotted to its core. It not only needed to be tidied up from scratch but also required a completely new situation to be opened up. Otherwise, it would ultimately perish...