Chapter 34: The Throne Belongs To Us Old Zhu’s! Seeking Monthly Tickets
To the east of Xiao Mausoleum, the newly built Ming Dong Mausoleum appeared exceptionally solemn and desolate in the late autumn twilight.
The afterglow of the setting sun cast a phantom golden edge on the icy stone figures, but it couldn’t dispel the bone-deep solitude and sorrow.
Old Zhu dismissed all his attendants; even Jiang Huan was ordered to stay a hundred paces away at the entrance to the mausoleum road.
Alone, he stooped, his back hunched, and stepped onto the cold stone steps, walking towards the newly erected, massive tombstone.
The plain hemp mourning clothes he wore, of Zhan Cui Heavy Mourning, rustled in the evening wind, adding to the bleakness.
In his hand, he tightly clutched a coarse cloth package, containing a few sesame sugar cakes, still warm from being personally fetched from the imperial kitchen by him—Zhu Biao loved these when he was a child.
Finally, he stopped before the tombstone.
On the cold stone tablet, the bold characters ‘Tomb of Zhu Biao, Crown Prince Yiwén of Great Ming’ made his eyes ache.
He reached out, his withered fingers, dotted with age spots, trembling as he repeatedly caressed the cold stone carving, as if by doing so he could touch his son’s warm skin.
“Biao’er. Father has come to see you.”
His voice was dry and hoarse, scattering in the wind as soon as it left his lips.
He leaned against the cold tombstone and slowly sat down, like an utterly exhausted old farmer resting on the edge of his own field.
He carefully placed the package of sesame sugar cakes before the tombstone, his movements as gentle as if afraid to wake a sleeping child.
“Recently, there’s been a bastard thing in court.”
Old Zhu began to speak, his voice very low, as if afraid to disturb the tranquility here, or perhaps, having accumulated too many words, he had finally found someone to confide in.
His cloudy old eyes gazed at the tombstone, as if his son were sitting opposite him, listening quietly.
“He’s a junior censor, named Zhang Biao.”
Old Zhu’s mouth twitched, unsure if he was crying or laughing: “His courage. is bigger than the sky!”
He began to ramble on, speaking slowly, with a tone of exhausted bewilderment and frustration:
“He debated with Father in the Hall of Supreme Harmony! About his salary! Ninety shi, after all calculations, the actual amount, the price of rice, the rent, the firewood, he calculated it all clearly!”
“He even brought up how a neighboring censor, surnamed Shen, pawned his ancestral jade pendant for three hundred wen to buy half a pig’s head for his old mother and child to recuperate!”
Old Zhu’s voice was filled with a sense of absurdity and the powerlessness of being backed into a corner:
“In my life, I’ve seen all sorts of situations, but to be cornered by a hungry junior censor demanding owed wages for over seven months while I sat on the dragon throne. This is truly the first time for me!”
He picked up a sesame sugar cake and broke it aimlessly, crumbs falling like rain:
“He also asked Father for noodles! Said he was too hungry to move and feared he might faint on the palace road, soiling the golden bricks! What could Father do? I couldn’t really let him starve to death at the Hall of Supreme Harmony doorway, could I? That would be even more embarrassing!
Father had Yun Ming go to the imperial kitchen to make him a bowl of clear soup noodles. I watched him slurp it down and asked him if he was finished.
He said he wanted more soup!
Damn it! Ai—”
Old Zhu was so angry he wanted to curse, but in the end, he let out a long sigh of resignation. “Then Father personally paid fifty taels of silver. Forty taels for him, Jiang Huan, and that Censor Shen who pawned the jade pendant to cover their back pay. Ten taels for Shen Lang to redeem the jade pendant and buy three more pig’s heads.”
Upon mentioning ‘three pig’s heads,’ Old Zhu’s voice choked, filled with an indescribable shame and indignation:
“It’s humiliating, Biao’er! Our Old Zhu family’s reputation has been completely ruined by this bastard! Censors so poor they’re selling their clothes! And they make Father pay for pig’s heads! If this gets out. how will future history books describe Father? Unkind and stingy? Destitute?”
He sighed heavily, “Father was so angry I wanted to chop him on the spot! But that bastard, he looks simple, but he’s sharp as a tack! He calculated that Father couldn’t kill him! Killing him would confirm that the court mistreated its officials, and Father was stingy and unkind! If I don’t kill him, I have to grudgingly accept it! It’s frustrating! So frustrating!”
Old Zhu fell silent, merely crushing the already broken sesame sugar cake in his hand.
The twilight deepened, the cold seeping into his bones.
After a long while, he looked up again, his eyes complex and distant, his voice also deepening: “However. Biao’er, that bastard said something that, by chance, struck a chord in Father’s heart.”
He paused, a flash of sharpness in his cloudy eyes, immediately followed by a deeper weariness: “He said ‘the integrity of a loyal official cannot save the Great Ming nation.’ The words are crude, but the reasoning is sound.”
His fingers aimlessly traced patterns on the ground, as if sketching an invisible, perilous map:
“The Ministry of Revenue. is rotten. The money bags are empty, unable to even pay the censors their meager porridge money, and who knows what state it’s in below! The princes.”
Old Zhu’s voice suddenly became difficult, filled with great hidden pain: “Your second brother, third brother, fourth brother. they have all returned. One by one, they appear obedient, but Father knows clearly, who doesn’t covet the dragon throne?”
He clenched his fists suddenly, his knuckles making a soft cracking sound, his eyes becoming fierce:
“Father enfeoffed them, thinking they would guard this empire for you, for your son! But human hearts. can change! While Father is alive, they dare not act. What about after Father is gone? Will they willingly submit to your son as emperor?
That fellow Zhang Biao, he said it right! What Father personally buried are foundations for protection, but they might also be. the root of future fratricidal strife!”
Old Zhu closed his eyes in pain, as if he dared not imagine that terrible scene.
After a good while, he slowly opened them again, his gaze returning to the tombstone, his eyes filled with struggle and pain, eventually transforming into a near-obsessive resolve:
“So, Biao’er, Father wants to discuss something with you.”
His voice was very soft, with an almost pleading tone, as if his son could truly hear him: “The successor position. cannot remain vacant any longer. Hearts are restless, all sides are watching, if we wait and delay further, something might happen.”
He took a deep breath, the cold air piercing his lungs painfully, but his tone was decisive and unquestionable: “Father wants. to establish Yunteng.”
Upon uttering this name, Old Zhu seemed to shed a heavy burden, yet also to bear a heavier chain.
He looked at the tombstone, explaining anxiously, as if trying to persuade himself:
“Yunteng. is your son! Your direct bloodline! He resembles you! Filial and benevolent! He is also good at his studies! At your sickbed, the filial devotion he showed by staying by your side day and night, Father saw it! Although his nature is a bit soft, and he’s easily indecisive when faced with matters. he’s still young!
Father can teach him! Father still has time! I can teach him to be a qualified ruler!”
Old Zhu spoke faster and faster, his eyes growing brighter, as if grasping at the only piece of driftwood in the darkness:
“Your second brother, too violent! He acted recklessly in his fiefdom, his reputation is already ruined! If he ascends, he will be a scourge to the empire! Your third brother, too shrewd! His thoughts are too deep! Father fears he won’t tolerate his brothers in the future! Your fourth brother.”
Mentioning this name, Old Zhu’s brow furrowed severely, his expression complicated: “He is capable! He has courage! Like Father in his youth! But. but he is too much like me! Father fears his ambition is too great! If he were to ascend, your other brothers. and Yunteng, Yunteng. would they have a good end?”
He shook his head abruptly, as if to cast away those terrible thoughts, pressing his hands tightly onto the cold tombstone, as if drawing strength and determination from it:
“No! None of them can! Only Yunteng! Only your son! Biao’er! Only by establishing Yunteng can the aspirations of your brothers be extinguished! Only then can your bloodline be preserved! And the throne can remain in our branch of the family!”
Old Zhu’s voice suddenly rose, filled with a near-mad obsession and an unquestionable dominance, echoing in the vast and desolate mausoleum:
“The throne! was won by us! It belongs to our Old Zhu family!”
“And more importantly, it belongs to you, Zhu Biao! It belongs to your lineage!”
“Father promised you! This empire, will be yours in the future! Father didn’t let you sit on it, Father is sorry for you!”
“But Father guarantees you! This dragon throne! In the future, it will be your son’s! It will be occupied by a descendant with Zhu Biao’s bloodline!”
“No one can snatch it! As long as Father lives, he will watch over it for you! After Father dies, even in the underworld, he will keep an eye on it for you!”
He panted, his chest heaving, and the turbid tears could no longer be held back and streamed down.
“Biao’er, when Father leaves and comes again, you will see the Imperial Grandson of our Great Ming!”
After saying this, Old Zhu slowly stood up.
Silence surrounded him, only the evening wind stirring his messy gray hair, bringing with it the low murmur of the pines.
Requesting monthly tickets, requesting monthly tickets!!!!!
