Transmigrating to the Chongzhen Emperor of the Ming Dynasty: Becoming a Great Emperor Through Idlene

Chapter 004 Undercurrents

Wang Chengen knelt on the ground, his head touching the earth: "Your Majesty, I swear I will never mention this again, and even if I die, I will not betray Your Majesty."

He just couldn't understand why, if the matter was leaked and he might be killed, Chongzhen, as the emperor, would say that he himself was also in danger of being killed.

But as clever as Wang Chengen was, he didn't ask the questions that were on his mind. He only needed to know that as a servant, there were some things he had to guess about his master's thoughts, but some things he absolutely had to never guess.

"Get up," Chongzhen said, gesturing for him to get up. "Go and do it. Make sure it's done discreetly. The accounts must be balanced; there can be no hidden problems."

"Yes." Wang Chengen wiped away his tears, bowed, and withdrew. As he reached the door, he glanced back. The emperor leaned against the headboard, gazing out the window in a daze, his profile appearing exceptionally gaunt in the candlelight.

In that instant, Wang Chengen felt a strange sensation; His Majesty seemed somewhat different than before. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what was different.

The door closed gently.

The palace was silent. The two young palace maids lowered their heads and breathed very softly. The wind outside seeped in through the cracks in the window, making a whistling sound, as if someone was crying.

Emperor Chongzhen leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes.

Take the first step.

Using his serious illness as a pretext and the construction of the palace as a cover, he handed over power to Wen Tiren, allowing him to confront the court officials, expose his problems, and make him the target of public criticism.

At the same time, 40,000 taels of silver were reserved as seed funds. Although this amount was not much, it could be used to do some things.

For example... forming a small armed force completely loyal to oneself. Three or four hundred people would suffice. But it must be good, it must be extremely reliable.

For example… secretly recruit some craftsmen to research some “ingenious skills.” Flintlock guns? Steam engines? It may be too early now, but at least we can start training technical personnel.

For example… seeking a way out overseas. Taiwan. Southeast Asia. Or even further afield. We can't put all our eggs in one basket; the flame of civilization needs backups.

Chongzhen's thoughts raced through his mind. Each item required time, money, and manpower. Each one had to be carried out under absolute secrecy.

It's very difficult. Very difficult.

But it's still better than sitting on the dragon throne and waiting to die.

"Your Majesty, the medicine is ready." A young palace maid carefully entered, carrying a bowl of medicine.

Emperor Chongzhen opened his eyes and stared at the bowl of dark brown medicine. The strong smell of herbs wafted towards him, and he frowned.

"Let it go," he said.

After placing the medicine bowl on the small table by the bedside, the palace maid stepped aside.

Emperor Chongzhen did not take the medicine immediately. He reached under his pillow to look for it. His fingertips touched something cold and hard—the smartphone they had traveled through time together.

He took the item out and held it in his hand.

The screen is black, and no matter how many times I press the power button, there's no response. The battery is dead. In a world without electricity, it's just a beautiful brick.

However, Chongzhen knew that this "brick" contained the most precious things of the era: a downloaded electronic version of the entire "Tiangong Kaiwu" (The Exploitation of the Works of Nature), dozens of articles on the economic history of the Ming and Qing dynasties, materials on the Thirty Years' War in Europe, and scanned copies of some firearms manufacturing blueprints.

If it could be opened...

If we could find a way to charge it...

Emperor Chongzhen gave a wry smile. Recharging. In an era without electricity? Perhaps they could conduct triboelectric experiments, perhaps they could research voltaic piles… but all of this required time, experimentation, and skilled personnel.

Now even getting out of bed is difficult.

He tucked his phone under his pillow and picked up the medicine bowl. The medicine had warmed up, but it was still very bitter and pungent. Chongzhen stared at himself in the bowl—a young but haggard face, sunken eyes, and a disheveled beard.

This is the Chongzhen Emperor. He was 23 years old, but looked like he was 33.

I tilted my head back and drank all the medicine. The bitterness started on the tip of my tongue, then spread down my throat, and finally into my stomach.

The sky outside the window gradually darkened. It's the seventeenth day of the first lunar month, and the moon will soon be full. But today is cloudy, with thick clouds, so we can't see the moon.

Chongzhen lay down and closed his eyes. Exhaustion washed over him like a tide, both physical and mental. The merging of the two memories was not yet complete; fragments would occasionally surface, bringing a sharp pain.

But at least he has a plan.

A fanatical plan. A plan destined to be misunderstood. A plan that would make him a "tyrant," a "mediocre ruler," and a "spendthrift son."

Let's put on a show then.

Since history has given me this role, I will play it to the fullest.

Emperor Chongzhen drifted off to sleep. In his dream, he returned to the old, crooked locust tree on Coal Hill. But this time, hanging from the tree were not him, but Wen Tiren, the entire court of officials, Li Zicheng, and Huang Taiji.

He stood under the tree with a saw in his hand.

He was sawing trees.

The old locust tree creaked and splintered, sending wood chips flying. The person hanging from the tree was shouting, cursing, and pleading.

But it didn't stop. It sawed once, then sawed again.

The tree fell. Dust billowed, and a deafening roar echoed.

After the dust settled, Chongzhen discovered that on the cross-section of the tree stump, there were rings of growth, and in the very center, a tender green bud had sprouted.

He smiled.

Then I woke up.

The palace was completely dark. The candles had gone out. A faint light shone through the window, probably from a lantern.

When Chongzhen sat up, his head still ached, but he was much more awake. He fumbled for the tinderbox and lit the new candle by his bedside.

With the candlelight on, he could see what was beside his pillow.

It's not a cell phone.

A piece of paper. Fold the clothes neatly and stuff them under the pillow.

Emperor Chongzhen's heart skipped a beat. He had only placed his cell phone under his pillow before going to bed.

Who placed it? When was it placed?

He picked up the paper and unfolded it.

The paper contained only one line of text written in very neat regular script:

"His Majesty's fall into the water was not an accident; there are traces of smearing on the moss by the pool."

No signature.

Emperor Chongzhen's hand trembled slightly.

It was not accidental.

Someone is plotting to assassinate the emperor.

Some people wanted the emperor to die "accidentally".

Who is it?

Remnants of Wei Zhongxian's faction?

Radical faction of the Donglin Party?

A military family from Liaodong?

Or... someone in the palace?

He suddenly remembered the young palace maid who had brought him medicine earlier that day. Calluses had formed on the back of her hands. These weren't calluses from manual labor, but rather the calluses of someone who practiced martial arts.

Was there any poison in the medicine? I don't know. But it was thrown away.

And then there's Wen Tiren. That Grand Secretary with his deep, unfathomable gaze. What is he pondering? What is he ultimately planning to do?

Chongzhen held the note up to the candlelight. The flame licked at the corner of the paper, then quickly devoured it, turning the line of text into ashes.

Ashes fell onto the gold-brick floor beside the bed, like black snowflakes.

He leaned against the headboard, staring at the ashes, and suddenly smiled.

His smile was cold and carried a resolute air.

it is good!

Since this world won't let me be a proper emperor...

Since everyone has their own thoughts.

Then I won't stand on ceremony.

The game has officially begun.

And I need to change the rules.

The sound of a night watchman's gong came from outside the window: dong dong dong!

The fourth watch.

It was almost dawn.