The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the Carpenter Prince!

On the 29th day of the eighth month of the first year of the Taichang reign, at the hour of Chen (7-9 AM

Qianqing Palace, outer corridor of the West Warm Pavilion.

"Grand Secretary Fang has sent someone again to inquire about His Majesty's well-being."

"Why the rush! Didn't he just come yesterday? The Consort said His Majesty needs to rest and doesn't want to see anyone."

"Then how should we answer this time? The clerk beside the Grand Secretary is still waiting at the gatehouse."

"Just tell them that the Emperor's health is improving and he is taking good care of himself, so that the Grand Secretary can rest assured."

The sound entered the room, but Zhu Youxiao didn't even look up. He sat by the window, whittling a piece of boxwood, his knife work fine and the wood shavings as thin as cicada wings.

The people blocking the way outside were Consort Li's men. The power to enter and leave the Qianqing Palace was in the hands of this consort. During the days when the Emperor was unwell, who could see whom depended entirely on her word.

Even the Grand Secretary has to wait at the gatehouse. Is it because he's not of high enough rank? No, it's simply because he's blocked from the path to power.

He'd been in this world for three days, and for the first two days he'd only done one thing: go through the memories of his predecessor.

His former name was Zhu Youxiao, and he was fifteen years old. He was the eldest son of Emperor Taichang, Zhu Changluo, and the first in line. His birth mother, Consort Wang, died last year. Before she died, she said, "I have a grudge against the Western Li, and I cannot avenge it."

west Li is Li Xuanshi.

The most favored woman of Emperor Taichang, and the de facto steward of the Qianqing Palace.

Her predecessor had been raised under her name since she was a child. Her biological mother's rank was too low; she couldn't even keep her own son. She was supposedly being raised, but she provided food, clothing, and shelter—it wasn't much different from raising a cat that couldn't speak.

As for reading?

Emperor Taichang had spent most of his life in the Eastern Palace, suffering neglect from Emperor Wanli. He was too busy taking care of himself to discipline his son.

Her predecessor had no hope of ever leaving the palace to teach, and her literacy skills were entirely dependent on a few words taught by palace eunuchs. At the age of fifteen, she could still miss a stroke when writing her own name.

When the entire court mentioned the eldest son of the emperor, their first reaction was, "Who? Oh, the carpenter."

very good.

None of the officials in the court gave him a second glance, but the other way around, none of them were wary of him.

The eldest prince who's whittling wood? Whit all you want, nobody cares.

There was something interesting about its predecessor.

This person speaks bluntly, not because he doesn't know how to speak, but because he's too good at telling the truth.

Consort Li spoke sarcastically to him, and he retorted; when a eunuch bullied him, he cursed at him. He said whatever came to mind, without even realizing who he had offended.

In the palace, this is called being ill-mannered; outside, it's called being a hothead.

I've suffered a lot of losses, but I just can't change my ways.

Because of his recklessness, no one considered him a threat. What trouble could a carpenter prince who spoke without thinking possibly cause?

Emperor Taichang reigned for twenty-nine days.

The first thing he did upon ascending the throne was to allocate one million taels of silver to reward the nine border regions, abolish mining taxes, and reinstate more than thirty demoted ministers. One decree after another drew attention from the court and the public, and it seemed to be a sign of a revival.

Then... he took eight beauties as concubines.

It was a gift from Consort Zheng.

That's the woman, the favorite concubine of Emperor Wanli, who strongly supported Prince Fu's succession in the struggle for the throne, fought against Emperor Taichang for thirty years, and is the biggest suspect in the club attack case.

The entire court awaited the new emperor's punishment of her, but Emperor Taichang, far from taking action, not only did not lay a hand on her, but also took her concubines. He slept with several women in one night, and by the tenth day of the eighth month, one of them had fallen ill.

Just then, Cui Wensheng arrived. He was a eunuch in charge of the Imperial Pharmacy, a former servant of Consort Zheng's palace, who prescribed a dose of rhubarb laxative.

The emperor had diarrhea thirty or forty times in one night, almost losing his life on the dragon throne in the chamber pot.

From then on, Emperor Taichang refused to take any medicine for more than ten days. The Imperial Medical Academy remained silent, fearing that anyone who dared to provide a prescription would be the next Cui Wensheng.

Yang Lian impeached Cui Wensheng for "improper use of medicine." The man was driven away, but he could not cure the disease.

Yesterday, he subtly inquired about Madam Ke's illness, "What did the imperial physicians say about Father's illness?" Madam Ke sighed, "There's nothing to say. Those people from the Imperial Hospital are all huddled in their duty rooms, each one more honest than the last, none of them daring to take responsibility."

Are they all more honest than the last?

With over twenty imperial physicians, and the emperor nearing death, not a single one dared to pick up a pen.

That's true. Cui Wensheng's example serves as a cautionary tale. Whoever prescribes the medicine takes the blame, and anyone in that situation would back down.

Zhu Youxiao paused for a moment while carving with his carving knife.

Twenty-four years after the death of Emperor Wanli, Emperor Chongzhen hanged himself on Coal Hill, and the Ming Dynasty fell. The man who hanged himself on Coal Hill was his younger brother, Zhu Youjian, who was nine years old at the time and was being raised by Dong Li. He was still a chubby little boy.

Twenty-four years.

Enough for a dynasty to go from its last gasp to its final breath.

The Liaodong military pay was lost, the border troops were understaffed, channels of communication were blocked, and land was annexed...

It wasn't that any emperor was incompetent; rather, the system was rotten to the core.

Even if Emperor Tianqi and Emperor Chongzhen were both capable and wise rulers, so what? He dared to bet that as long as it was still the Ming Dynasty with its established laws, the country that was destined to perish would still perish, it would just prolong its existence for a few more years.

This game of chess cannot be won by one person alone.

According to historical records, Emperor Taichang would have died in a few days, and he would have directly ascended the throne as emperor.

At fifteen, he had no one in the court who was on his side; sitting in that position would make him a target.

What kind of reforms are we pushing? Nobody listens to us.

We must protect Emperor Taichang.

It's not because I want to be a good son—although being a good son is necessary, it's a means, not an end.

A fifteen-year-old prince can't move anything; someone has to block him in front of him.

It was more effective for Emperor Taichang to be alive than to be emperor himself. He could issue decrees and bear the infamy, while the crown prince would offer advice and set the direction from behind. This was a hundred times safer than him going up against the tide and becoming a target.

The prerequisite is that this person must be alive and willing to listen.

It can't be rushed.

People who are impatient are more likely to die.

Twenty-four years is enough for a dynasty to die, but it is also enough for a dynasty to rise again.

…………

"Your Highness."

A woman's voice came from the doorway, pretentious and affected.

Zhu Youxiao raised his head.

Consort Li stood outside the threshold, followed by two palace maids carrying trays. Despite being only a mere consort, she made quite a show of herself. She didn't enter the room, but simply stood outside the threshold and called out "Your Highness," looking down at him.

The meaning is very clear: you live on my turf.

While Emperor Taichang was alive, she had a window to climb up. But if Emperor Taichang were gone, and Zhu Youxiao wasn't her biological son, a mere concubine wouldn't even have a place to stand in the new dynasty.

So, all she did in the Qianqing Palace, running around blocking ministers and stopping imperial physicians, was to build up her own leverage while the emperor still had a breath left.

That's some impressive skill; no wonder she fought her way through the harem.

"Your Highness has been tinkering with these things so early in the morning." Consort Li smiled, her tone a mix of concern and sigh. "Your father's health is not yet restored, and the servants are busy as bees, yet Your Highness can sit still."

Labeling before framing is a basic skill for those vying for dominance in the imperial harem.

Zhu Youxiao put down his carving knife, stood up, and bowed.

"Greetings to Her Majesty," he said gruffly. "Her people are keeping even the imperial physicians out; my presence would only cause trouble."

Consort Li's smile froze.

"Your Highness is too kind. The imperial physicians are on duty every day, so who would stop them? It's just that His Majesty needs to rest, and I'm just making a decision for him."

Her rank was merely that of a concubine, and she had no proper title. To say that she was "making decisions for the Emperor" would be considered presumptuous by any of the concubines in the six palaces.

But after Emperor Taichang fell ill, she was the only one left in the Qianqing Palace who could command others. While Wang An was busy coordinating with court officials outside, she conveniently seized control of his comings and goings. Once she had it, she wouldn't let go.

"It's because I'm bad with words, and what I say is hard to hear," Zhu Youxiao said, scratching his head.

Consort Li regained her smile and entered the room, followed by two palace maids who placed the food trays on the table.

"I asked the kitchen to make a bowl of bird's nest porridge," she said, finding a stool to sit down. "Don't just keep whittling the wood, eat it while it's hot."

The person who usually gives a few words and leaves is sitting down today.

Zhu Youxiao's heart tightened slightly, but he only looked down at the bowl of porridge. "Thank you, Your Majesty. You've gone to so much trouble."

"Your father rested fairly well yesterday, and even ate some rice porridge this morning." She paused, "It's rare that someone took it to heart and said they had a good prescription, and your father would like to see it."

The fact that Li Kezhuo twice volunteered to administer the medicine was no secret in the palace. This concubine's advance notice was not a casual remark—speaking out would provide a way out in the future, while remaining silent would be risky.

"That's good." Zhu Youxiao picked up the bird's nest porridge, blew on it, and slurped it down. "As long as Father Emperor gets better, that's all that matters."

The smile on Consort Li's face relaxed slightly.

"Your father did look better this morning, and he even mentioned you," she tilted her head, "saying that you're fifteen now and should be more sensible by now."

"Sensible?" Zhu Youxiao looked naive. "I want to be sensible too, but I'm just not smart enough."

Consort Li smiled, stood up, reached out to straighten his collar, and patted his shoulder, as if comforting an obedient kitten.

"With Her Majesty here, no one will mistreat you. Go pay your respects to your father in a little while, but don't stay too long, as he needs to rest."

He paused at the threshold, as if suddenly remembering something, and turned back to say, "By the way, your grandmother came to visit me yesterday and said that His Highness has been much quieter than usual these past few days."

After saying that, she left, the crimson hem of her dress flashing and disappearing under the eaves.

The exact nature of the relationship between Madam Ke and Consort Li was a complete mystery in his past life's memories. These two women saw each other frequently in the Qianqing Palace, maintaining a polite facade, but he had no idea what kind of deals were going on beneath the surface.

"Your Highness has been much quieter than usual these past few days"—did Lady Ke really say this, or did Consort Li make it up to test him?

He couldn't tell. Three days was too short; he hadn't even figured out a fraction of who was on the same side in this palace.

…………

Zhu Youxiao sat back down on the low stool and slowly drank the bowl of bird's nest porridge.

He was waiting, waiting for someone.

Not long after, an old eunuch slipped in, hunched over and panting.

"Your Highness."

Wang An.

The Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs, whose pen and seal both passed through his hands, was indispensable in any imperial decree that needed to go through the proper procedures. He served Emperor Taichang for twenty-six years, following him since the twenty-second year of the Wanli reign, witnessing the succession crisis, the clubbing incident, and decades of being confined to the cold palace, never leaving his side.

Everyone in the court said he was upright and honest. Yang Lian praised him, saying, "During the forty years of the late emperor's reign, the only one who protected me in my precarious situation was Wang An." He was indeed upright, but he was far from being able to be tactful. He had spent most of his life walking on the edge of a knife, yet he was the kind of person who, even with the knife in his hand, didn't know where to stab.

He's a talented person.

"Wang Daban, why are you here so early?" Zhu Youxiao put down his carving knife, his expression relaxing a bit.

Wang An lowered his voice, "Your Highness, this old servant has come to report a message."

"What letter?"

"This morning His Majesty issued an edict summoning Grand Secretaries Fang, Liu, and Han, among other ministers, to the palace to discuss the matter of establishing an heir apparent." Wang An glanced at him. "The discussion is about His Highness."

Zhu Youxiao's fingers tightened slightly.

Establish a successor.

Historical records state that this event was scheduled for the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, ten days earlier, indicating that Emperor Taichang felt he might not live to see that day. An emperor rushing to establish a crown prince while simultaneously inquiring about the imperial tombs speaks volumes: urgency.

"Understood." Zhu Youxiao nodded. "Anything else?"

Wang An opened his mouth, then swallowed back his words, and only spoke after a long while.

"This old servant has a few words to add," he lowered his voice even further, "When the decree was delivered to the cabinet, Grand Secretary Fang complied on the spot. But after Grand Secretary Liu came out, he whispered to Grand Secretary Han for a while, saying that His Highness had not yet begun his studies, and that hastily appointing him as heir was against ancestral rules."

"Does it violate ancestral customs?"

"This old servant didn't hear the exact words of the two Grand Secretaries," Wang An said with a displeased expression. "But this isn't just one or two people saying this in court. This morning, Qi Shijiao, a Supervising Secretary of the Ministry of Rites, was chatting with someone in the corridor of the Six Ministries and said something..."

He paused, as if he found the words too harsh, and spoke after a long while.

"What did you say?"

He said, "If a wooden puppet sits in the Eastern Palace, what dignity does the court have left?"

Puppet. Qi Shijiao was a censor in the Ministry of Rites, a low-ranking official of the seventh grade, but he held the power of impeachment. The censors of the six ministries were known as the "masters of the ministries," and they dared to reject imperial edicts and even the draft proposals of the cabinet.

This man is a thorn in the side of the Qi faction, a dagger used to charge forward for the Zhejiang-Qi alliance. His statement that the Crown Prince is a puppet is not solely his opinion.

"My Lord," Zhu Youxiao asked calmly, "how many people in the court oppose me?"

Wang An was taken aback. Being told to one's face that one is not worthy would be a thorn in anyone's side. But Zhu Youxiao's face remained calm and expressionless, as if he were asking if the weather was nice today.

"Not much," Wang An replied carefully. "Grand Secretary Fang obeyed the order, and Grand Secretary Han didn't say anything directly. Grand Secretary Liu muttered a few words, and a few people from the Six Ministries chimed in. The Duke of Yingguo, on the other hand, didn't say a word."

Duke Zhang Weixian of England, a representative of the nobility, commanded troops from the Beijing Garrison. The nobility recognized lineage and imperial edicts, regardless of one's education.

The civil officials' opposition was merely verbal, while Xun Gui's support was backed by troops.

The chessboard isn't entirely made up of enemies.

"However..." Wang An added, "The Ministry of Rites submitted the ceremony for the investiture to the Grand Secretariat this morning, but Grand Secretary Liu did not approve it, saying that it would be discussed after the matter of the lectures outside the Grand Secretariat was settled."

The instrumentation is stuck.

The process of appointing an heir to the throne follows a chain of steps: the Ministry of Rites drafts the ceremonial procedures, the Grand Secretariat approves them, and the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs affixes its seal. Missing any one of these three hurdles prevents the process from proceeding. Liu Yizhu only entered the Grand Secretariat on August 19th, and his foundation was very shallow. However, the procedure of drafting the ceremonial procedures requires no foundation—just follow the rules, and no one can find fault with it.

A few words of criticism from the six officials are of no consequence; the ceremony is not carried out, and the investiture is just a piece of paper.

It happened faster than I expected.

"I understand." He made another cut. "Don't worry, Otoko. If you can stand, then stand; if you can't, there's no need to rush."

Wang An breathed a sigh of relief.

"There is one more thing." His expression turned serious again. "When the Emperor issued the decree, he also mentioned asking, 'Where is the Honglu Temple Assistant who is in charge of delivering medicine?'"

Zhu Youxiao's hand stopped.

The Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial. It turns out that what Consort Li just said, "It's so rare that someone took it to heart and said they had a good prescription," wasn't just a casual remark.

She knew this person was going to get the medicine, and coming to inform her in advance was like buying insurance for herself—if something went wrong with the medicine in the future, she would have already "spoken for it" to the eldest prince, who was "quite happy" about it.

A bowl of bird's nest porridge, a casual remark, betting on both ends.

"Is this the one who said he had the elixir of immortality a few days ago?" Zhu Youxiao asked.

"Exactly." Wang An nodded. "Li Kezhuo went to the cabinet on August 23 to offer medicine, but Grand Secretary Fang ordered him to leave. The next day, he ran to Sishan Gate to enter the palace, but the eunuchs dared not let him go and stopped him again."

Undeterred by being stopped twice, Emperor Taichang now personally named him. This official from the Court of State Ceremonial, without any medical qualifications, was the only one among the court's legitimate doctors who dared not move, yet he was offering himself up with miraculous elixirs.

What audacity! Or rather, what deep water!

"What did Grand Secretary Fang say?" Zhu Youxiao asked.

"What can Grand Secretary Fang say?" Wang An gave a bitter smile. "His Majesty himself wants to see him, and there's no stopping him. I'm afraid this time... that medicine will really be administered."

The court officials thought he was unworthy to be crown prince, while Emperor Taichang wanted to take another elixir of dubious origin. Whether he was worthy or not was up to others to decide, but whether his father lived or died was not up to anyone else.

The order of priority is clear at a glance.

"Osama."

"This old servant is here."

"My father needs to take medicine, and as his son, I should go and see him."

Wang An was taken aback.

This taciturn eldest son, who only knew how to whittle wood, never took the initiative to ask to see Emperor Taichang as far back as he could remember.

"Your Highness is right," Wang An bowed and said, "This old servant will make the arrangements immediately."

"Master," Zhu Youxiao called out to him again.

Wang An stopped.

"Remember for me who in court supports, opposes, and hasn't expressed their opinion on the matter of choosing an heir."

Wang An was stunned for a moment; no one had ever taught His Highness to ask such questions.

"This old servant understands."

He stepped out the door, his steps quickening slightly as he had come in. Reaching the corner of the corridor, the old eunuch paused, glancing back at the man inside, who was sitting on a low stool, whittling wood.

His Highness seems somewhat different today than usual.

But he couldn't quite put his finger on what was different.

A plump woman was waiting outside the curtain, leaning against a pillar wiping her hands with a handkerchief. When she saw Wang An come out, she glanced at him sideways.

A middle-aged eunuch serving tea in the corner nodded slightly to her, then lowered his eyelids and obediently carried the tea tray.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside the corridor. A young eunuch stumbled into the courtyard and shouted through the window:

"Your Highness! A message has come from the inner chambers that His Majesty has summoned Li Kezhuo to take his medicine immediately! Your Highness is to go and attend to him at once!"