Because of the “Kneeling at the Gate” case, Jiao Yang and Wang Qianhe were stripped of their Gelao titles and expelled from the Cabinet, though their official status was not revoked, they were reassigned as local officials.
Having fallen from the heavens to the dust, the two still clung to a final shred of hope, that the Empress Dowager would intervene and save them, giving them a chance for reinstatement someday. After all, if the Empress Dowager wished to rebuild her influence in court, it would not be easy to find new supporters.
Unfortunately, upon hearing of the Emperor’s grave illness, the Empress Dowager’s mind fell into chaos. The terror of possibly losing her son crushed everything else, her desires, her ambitions, her growing schemes.
When her son lay helpless in her arms, she could only recall the warmth they once shared as mother and child. Back then, that love had been laced with control and possessiveness; now, it was pure maternal tenderness, willing to give everything for him.
But when her son awoke from unconsciousness and looked at her with the clear, commanding eyes of a ruler, she suddenly felt an emptiness, as though waking from a dream.
The Empress Dowager forced herself to suppress that emptiness and said to her seemingly recovered son, “You’ve just woken; there’s no need to rush back to governing. Let the Grand Secretaries and the Six Ministries handle affairs for now. Your health is what matters most.”
The emperor said, “I know what I’m doing. Royal Mother, you need not persuade me further.”
The empress dowager would rather he remain as weak and dependent as he’d been during his illness, nestled against her chest, or restless and uncertain as he’d been the night before his enthronement, seeking her comfort and support.
Both of her sons were slowly breaking free from the web of maternal affection she had woven around them. That realization filled her with a dull, aching sorrow as she left Yangxin Hall.
The number of cabinet ministers had drastically shrunk; only Yang Ting and Xie Shiyan remained, unable to process all the memorials. Thus, the emperor decreed that Yang Ting serve as chief Gelao, Xie Shiyan as the deputy, and that a few Hanlin scholars be temporarily brought into the cabinet, a stopgap measure, essentially hiring substitutes.
By convention, the cabinet usually had between five and seven assisting ministers. With only two remaining, replacements were inevitable.
This naturally set officialdom astir. Countless eyes now fixed on the vacant cabinet seats, each dreaming of soaring to the heavens in a single leap.
The bloodstains left from the canings at Fengtian gate had barely been washed away when ambition, ever eager for a new vessel, once again began probing the sovereign’s heart.
—Some officials submitted memorials, pleading earnestly for the emperor to issue a decree recalling the crown prince to the capital, even volunteering to serve as envoys of welcome.
—Others dug up the old misdeeds of Consort Wei’s father, Xianan Marquis Wei Yan, presenting scraps of wrongdoing that Su Yan hadn’t already exposed, treating them as treasures to curry imperial favor.
Unfortunately, every attempt at flattery landed squarely on the horse’s leg. The emperor, indifferent, publicly awarded each of these ministers a “Cup of Honor and Shame” (the very invention of Censor Su in Shaanxi two years ago), on the first cup, the words were engraved: “To seek truth and act with integrity is honorable; to flatter and fawn is shameful.”
The mocking tone of this warning reminded them of the powder-bottomed black boots once bestowed upon Jia Gongji and his colleagues, and the oversized cowhide scrolls awarded to provincial officials who’d brought “auspicious omens.” Once again, they were made keenly aware that, though Emperor Jinglong might never again attend court regularly, no one could fool him.
Thus, after several days of turbulence, the court gradually returned to calm.
The emperor resumed audiences three times every ten days. Chen Shiyu was summoned daily to Yangxin Hall for acupuncture and to prescribe medicine.
“Your Majesty… please reconsider!” Chen Shiyu could not help but plead as he watched the emperor lift his medicine bowl. “These are fierce, overbearing drugs, they may grant temporary vigor, but at the cost of severe exhaustion later. The harm will be endless. It would be better to use the gentler tonics prescribed by the imperial physicians and recover slowly.”
Without changing expression, the emperor drained the bowl, then said, “No need to worry, Master Yingxu. Do as I’ve instructed.”
As he left the hall, Chen Shiyu muttered to himself, “I dared not risk his life by opening the skull, yet now he must burn through his own body to buy time… Was I wrong after all?”
Lost in thought, he nearly collided with Lan Xi, who was returning from his errand in haste.
Lan Xi, too preoccupied with his duty to take offense, sidestepped and hurried into the hall to report: “The Tengxiang Guard has kept watch these past few days. No unusual movements from the Empress Dowager’s side. Judging by the route, the envoy carrying the decree should already have reached Cang and De Prefectures, seems the journey went smoothly.”
The emperor gave a slight nod. “And that eunuch, Yongnian, what of him?”
“After Your Majesty and the Empress Dowager agreed upon the test, Her Majesty rewarded him as planned and instructed him to continue serving here in the Hall as her eyes and ears. Yongnian agreed readily. The Empress Dowager thus believed what Your Majesty said, that Yongnian was indeed a spy, and that it was he who framed the young master with the painting, so she stopped trying to publicize the matter. However, since she hasn’t seen him contact anyone outside the palace, she hasn’t discovered who’s behind him, and has been keeping him dangling.”
The emperor said, “During this time, he’s sent out quite a few important reports from the palace.”
While serving tea, Lan Xi quietly added, “Those important reports were exactly the ones Your Majesty wanted leaked.”
“Thus, those behind the scenes believe the crown prince has lost imperial favor, and have relaxed their vigilance toward Nanjing. Therefore…” The emperor stopped, his fingers lightly tapping the table. After a moment, he said softly, “Yongnian’s no longer useful. Keeping him will only bring trouble. Tell Shen Qi—”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll see to it.” Lan Xi, long accustomed to reading the emperor’s meaning without full words, bowed and withdrew to make arrangements.
—
Northern Surveillance Bureau.
Shen Qi lounged in the grandmaster’s chair, one leg crossed over the other, idly spinning a brass torture awl between his fingers.
“What’s on your mind, sir?” asked Shi Yanshuang, the supervising officer in charge of punishment, known for his gossiping habits. Relying on his closeness with Shen Qi, he dared to ask.
Before Shen Qi could reply, Gao Shuo hurried into the hall. After saluting, he leaned in to whisper a report.
“No need,” Shen Qi said. “Shi isn’t an outsider.”
Shi Yanshuang shot him a grateful look.
Gao Shuo said, “The eunuch Yongnian, this subordinate handled it personally. It was an accidental fall while drunk.”
“…The emperor has begun closing the net,” Shen Qi said. “Do you two understand what that means?”
Shi Yanshuang and Gao Shuo exchanged glances. They were reminded of the time in Henan when they’d secretly investigated the rebel ‘Madman Liao.’ Shen Qi had slipped away for a full day and night, and they’d covered for him. Later, he’d taken a covert squad east, only afterward did they learn he’d stayed in Nanjing for half a month.
What had Shen Qi gone to do there? They’d never asked, neither daring nor wanting to. First, because such matters were far above their rank, and second, because their silence came from a kind of awe and loyalty.
“The emperor already knows who’s behind the curtain, and now he plans to strike, to root them out completely?” Gao Shuo guessed. He’d once warned Shen Qi of surveillance at the East Market, so he knew more than Shi about the ‘player’ game being played.
Shen Qi slowly shook his head. “By rights, he shouldn’t act yet, why sever Yongnian’s line now? Wouldn’t it be better to let the snake show itself?”
Shi Yanshuang frowned. “Then what does His Majesty mean by this?”
“Destroying his own line of intelligence, it’s not like him to act rashly.” Shen Qi thought aloud in a low voice. “I can think of only one reason… Perhaps his illness isn’t as the Imperial Medical Institute claims. Cutting out the spies and sweeping the board clean, he’s paving the way for the crown prince.”
That thought turned in their minds, and both Shi Yanshuang and Gao Shuo blanched in horror. “The Lord means…”
They dared not finish the sentence, but their expressions already betrayed their shock.
Shen Qi’s face was dark and cold. “In that case, looking again at the recent kneeling-at-the-gates incident, the truth is plain as day. The Ziwei Palace is in turmoil, when the imperial power shifts, the Embroidered Guards, as the Emperor’s closest guards, will be the first to bear the brunt. Many Commanders have fallen at such times. If the new ruler doesn’t trust us, we’ll be in grave danger.”
“What should we do then?”
“Does the Lord have a plan?”
Both spoke at once.
Shen Qi thought for a moment, then ordered Shi Yanshuang: “The Northern Surveillance Bureau has over a thousand riders. Select six hundred of the most loyal and capable, and from tomorrow, have them set up camp in the forests outside the city. This task is yours. Remember, your movements must be kept secret, even the palace must not know.”
Then he instructed Gao Shuo: “Take a team of hidden sentries to watch the palace, especially Yangxin Hall and the Cining Palace. The moment anything unusual happens, come report to me immediately. I’ve already bribed Wang Qianshi from the Ceremonial Guard; he’ll cover for you.”
The Ceremonial Guard, those “Great Han Generals” who stood watch in the halls, were nominally under the Embroidered Guard’s command but held little real power. It was no surprise that their Qianshi clung to Shen Qi’s thigh.
The two men accepted their orders and went off to make arrangements.
Only Shen Qi remained in the hall, absently toying with the torture awl. Whether by accident or intent, the sharp tip pricked his fingertip, and blood seeped out.
He dipped the blood on the document spread across the desk and wrote two characters: “Qinghe.”
He tilted his head, dissatisfied with the handwriting, changed the style, and kept writing.
Qinghe. Qinghe. Qinghe…
The writing grew more frenzied, the strokes wild and unrestrained, like a pack of beasts that had endured hunger and restraint too long and finally broke loose.
A year of separation, a page of blood-written longing, within it lingered both the yearning sweetness of pinpo fruit and the thick scent of blood. Shen Qi crushed the paper into a ball, then slowly, bit by bit, chewed it up and swallowed it.
—
“Ah—!”
The Empress Dowager screamed and jolted awake from a nightmare, drenched in cold sweat.
The night maid rushed forward in alarm, but before she could speak, the Empress Dowager seized the jade pillow and hurled it at her. “Qiong Gu! Qiong Gu!”
Qiong Gu hurriedly dressed and entered the hall, motioning for the kneeling maids to leave.
The Empress Dowager, clad in white undergarments, her long crow-black hair disheveled, grabbed Qiong Gu’s wrist. Her eyes still flickered with lingering terror, her voice hoarse and dry. “I dreamed of her again… She appeared in the palace, younger than me, wearing the empress’s phoenix robe, twelve-rank zhai embroidery, four-dragon four-phoenix crown, so magnificent. I wore the same when I was made Empress… But she mocked me! She said that no matter how shrewd my schemes, I would still end up betrayed and abandoned by all!”
“Your Majesty, it was only a dream,” Qiong Gu said, gripping her hand tightly. “Lady Mo is long dead, thirty years gone. Even her bones have turned to dust. She deserved her death. Cast away those memories, Your Majesty, as one scatters ashes to the wind.”
The Empress Dowager drew a long, trembling breath and murmured, “Thirty years? It feels like only a blink… That face, so real before my eyes. Was it Mo’s face, or Zhang’s? I… can’t tell anymore…”
Qiong Gu poured her a cup of tea and offered it. “Lady Zhang has been dead sixteen or seventeen years too, she died from confinement fever after childbirth. That had nothing to do with Your Majesty. If you can let go of them completely, you won’t dream of them again.”
The Empress Dowager leaned against Qiong Gu, drank a few sips of hot tea, and felt slightly better. A faint, self-mocking smile tugged at her lips. “How silly. I haven’t dreamed of her in so many years, why suddenly—”
Her voice abruptly stopped.
The teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered against the tiled floor, tea splashing everywhere.
Qiong Gu hurriedly knelt, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the spilled tea. “Your Majesty, did it burn you?”
The Empress Dowager’s face had gone pale. She ground out between her teeth: “I remember now, she said in the dream, ‘My son is coming back!’”
Qiong Gu froze mid-motion, then looked up. “Your Majesty…”
The Empress Dowager lowered her head, placing her palm on Qiong Gu’s aging cheek, as though reaching through thirty years to touch the loyal maid she once trusted. “It was Mo, and Zhang. She came back to marry my son, failed to have her revenge, and now sends her son to collect the debt… No. I must not let her son, let Zhu Helin, return to the capital!”
“Your Majesty?” Qiong Gu gasped. “But His Majesty has already issued the decree to summon the Crown Prince back to court…”
“How many days ago?” the Empress Dowager demanded sharply.
“Six, no, seven days.”
“Then… by the canal route, he’s not yet past Xuzhou. If by land, even slower.”
“Your Majesty doesn’t mean, ” Qiong Gu covered the Empress Dowager’s hand on her cheek and shook her head in fear. “That’s far too risky! If His Majesty discovers…”
Tears suddenly welled up in the Empress Dowager’s eyes. “My son is gravely ill, yet still he frets over that woman’s child! They all say the Emperor is most filial, but has he ever cared about the torment I’ve endured all these years? Has he ever truly mourned his other little brother?”
“Zhu Jinxuan, my second son, he was murdered by that Mo woman! He was so bright, so gentle, just like Zhao’er… Looking at Zhao’er is like seeing him again, like he’s still at my knee, calling me ‘Mother’ so sweetly… Why couldn’t the Emperor make Zhao’er the Crown Prince?
“If Zhao’er were made heir, how perfect it would be! Tang’er, Xuan’er, Cheng’er, our family of four would finally be together again.”
The Empress Dowager drew in a deep breath, as if resolving herself, and threw back the quilt to get out of bed.
Qiong Gu stood there in stunned silence. So all along, what the Empress Dowager loved most was the son she lost, the eternally childlike Third Prince preserved in her memory. It wasn’t pure maternal love, but an obsession, a longing to reclaim what was once hers, a salve for the old wound she could never forgive.
The Empress Dowager coughed, breaking Qiong Gu’s daze. Qiong Gu quickly picked up a robe and draped it over her shoulders.
“What does Your Majesty intend to do?” Qiong Gu asked softly.
The Empress Dowager was silent for a moment, then said, “We cannot send someone to pursue him directly, the Emperor will surely guard against me taking action. We can only block and delay him, make sure Zhang’s son does not return to the capital. Once I place Zhao’er on the Crown Prince’s seat and everything settles, even if he does make it back to the capital, he will be immediately sent to his fiefdom.”
Tonight, Qiong Gu was unusually bold and asked, “Will His Majesty agree to depose the Crown Prince and install the Second Prince?”
The Empress Dowager, unusually patient and lenient tonight, did not answer directly. “The Imperial Physician came to me to complain about Chen Shiyu, saying that the medicine he gives is tiger-wolf poison. Though it makes the Emperor seem vigorous, in truth it overdraws his vitality. He requested I order this civilian doctor expelled from the palace.”
“I know the Imperial Physicians are jealous, and I know that Chen Shiyu’s prescriptions are given at the Emperor’s direction… For Zhang’s son, the Emperor can even harm his own body, received from his parents, what can I say!”
Qiong Gu exclaimed, “If His Majesty takes this medicine, could he—”
The Empress Dowager’s tears streamed down her face. “The Imperial Physicians said taking this medicine is like opening channels in a shallow pond to drain the water. Once the body’s essence is exhausted, the Emperor might be strong one moment, and the next, suddenly collapse into unconsciousness… or never wake again… My son! The son I’ve painstakingly raised…”
After hesitating, Qiong Gu asked, “Your Majesty still has Yu Wang. The Fourth Prince is filial and clever. Should we call him to help relieve some burden?”
The Empress Dowager was slightly taken aback. “Cheng’er… he never covets the throne, his mind is not in court affairs, and he bears a grudge against the Emperor. But don’t forget, Cheng’er is entangled with Su Twelve. Su Twelve is the Crown Prince faction’s leader; the Emperor treats him specially. I worry that Cheng’er, because of that cunning and devious boy, might get entangled in this matter and cause complications… It’s better not to tell him yet.”
Qiong Gu nodded. “Your Majesty’s reasoning is sound. But how then do we stop… Zhang’s son from returning to the capital?”
The Empress Dowager wiped her tears with a handkerchief. “How is my little sister lately?”
Qiong Gu spoke frankly, “Not well. Since the Wei family was disgraced and Consort Weizhao sent to the cold palace, the couple has been shrouded in gloom, hiding in their residence, fearing they will anger the Emperor again, not even able to preserve their lifelong title.”
The Empress Dowager sighed. “My poor little sister. You should contact her and say I know that the last unit of the Qingzhou army the Wei family brought was never truly disbanded, but has been hidden in Tianjin. Though only a few hundred remain, they can still be used, barely.”
“Ask her: will she hand this unit over to me, or watch helplessly as Zhang’s son returns to court, leaving her daughter in the cold palace forever, and her grandson with no chance to inherit? Let her make her choice!”
—-
Late at night, in Yangxin Hall.
The candles had burned down, yet Emperor Jinglong was still reviewing memorials submitted by the cabinet.
Lan Xi entered to replace the candles and urged again, “Your Majesty, it’s late. Please rest.”
The Emperor did not lift his head. “Why sleep long in life? After death, one will sleep eternally.”
Lan Xi could not help the tears welling silently, stepping aside to grind ink.
The Emperor dipped his brush to mark red on the documents, then opened another military report from the frontier. His brow slightly furrowed. “Northern Steppe… Oirat and Tatars are at it again?”
“That’s not bad,” Lan Xi whispered, “I thought the fiercer they fight, the less attention they’ll pay to our Great Ming, and the frontier will be more peaceful.”
The Emperor studied the report carefully. “Nothing can be seen from one side alone. Though I hope for internal strife in the Northern Steppe, it must be consumptive, not allow one side to crush the other. Otherwise, when the chaos ends, unprecedented unification will follow.”
Lan Xi asked, “Last time in court, the ministers argued, when the Oirat Prince Kunle raided the Tatar royal court, it didn’t seem they gained much from the Tatar Grand Master Tuo Huotai, right?”
The Emperor shook his head. “Prince Kunle of Oirat is now ‘Holy Khan’ Aletan. Over the past year, he led Oirat cavalry against the Tatars repeatedly, gradually gaining the upper hand. He is both intelligent and brave, not to be underestimated… You know, Tuo Huotai was recently declared a traitor by the Tatar royal family and attacked?”
Lan Xi was shocked. “Isn’t that self-destruction? Though Tuo Huotai was overbearing, he was the Tatars’ main pillar. Without him, the young Tatar Khan would have been consumed by the nobles long ago!”
“Precisely because Tuo Huotai acted as Grand Master and regent did the royal family grow wary. Though the young Khan was naive, his mother, a daughter of the great Tatar nobility, called ‘The Formidable Lioness’, was fierce.”
“Aletan exploited this, using psychological strategy. The Khan’s mother grew increasingly dissatisfied with Tuo Huotai, suspected him of plotting to kill the Khan and seize the throne, forcing him to act, cementing his guilt as a traitor.”
“No troops, no bloodshed, yet the Tatars’ ruling class collapsed from within. Brilliant strategy!” The Emperor struck the table and sighed, then his tone darkened. “Aletan is only twenty-one this year, five years older than Helin. In the future…”
He furrowed his brow deeply.
Lan Xi, sensing the Emperor’s worry, hurried to reassure him. “The young master is exceptionally talented and will achieve greatness. The Northern Barbarians will only bow to our Empire. Your Majesty, relax and observe.”
The Emperor did not respond, but silently noted: fortunately, there was still Su Yan. If Helin consulted him often, policy would not deviate too far.
But for now, he could not let Oirat grow too powerful. He must try to reverse the Tatars’ defeats, perhaps even consider a temporary alliance with the young Khan’s mother…
The Emperor thought quickly, strategies arising one after another. Dipping his brush in cinnabar, he was about to mark a document when the brush slipped from his fingers, leaving a bright red smudge on the memorial.
“—Your Majesty!” Lan Xi cried, dropping the ink stick and rushing to support him.
The Emperor leaned forward, motionless, resting against his arm as if utterly exhausted, finally asleep.
Lan Xi shouted loudly, “Guards! Someone, come quickly!”
—
The Empress Dowager, who had only just gone back to sleep at dawn, was startled awake by the hurried footsteps of her attendants. She sat bolt upright, her heart pounding wildly, and demanded sharply, “What has happened?!”
Qiong Gu rushed into the chamber, dropped to her knees beside the bed, and reported in a low voice, “His Majesty has fainted again. The imperial physicians are all gathered at Yangxin Hall. Doctor Chen used an entire set of golden needles, yet His Majesty has not awakened.”
The Empress Dowager was both shocked and grieved, though part of her seemed to have expected this. She immediately threw aside her covers and rose. “Quickly, prepare the palanquin, go to Yangxin Hall!”
This time, the Emperor remained unconscious far longer than before. Not until ten hours later did he finally awaken.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the Empress Dowager seated beside his bed, clutching his hand and weeping silently.
The Emperor looked utterly exhausted. It seemed that even this ten-hour slumber had done little to make up for his years of restless nights and overwork.
“Royal Mother, do not cry. I am still alive.” The Emperor’s voice was weary yet calm, as though nothing in the world, not even life or death, could stir his emotions. “Lan Xi, bring me the medicine.”
Lan Xi knelt on the floor, choking back tears. “Your Majesty, please… do not take that medicine anymore…”
The Empress Dowager also shook her head repeatedly. But the Emperor said, “If I take it, I can stay awake; if I don’t, I’ll fall back into a stupor. Even if it’s poison to quench thirst, I’ll still drink it. Bring it here.”
After much back-and-forth, no one could dissuade him. In the end, they had no choice but to let him take the medicine.
After a brief rest, the Emperor’s complexion improved slightly, he looked almost like his usual self again. The Empress Dowager forbade him from getting out of bed and declared firmly, “From today onward, morning court shall be suspended. State affairs will temporarily be handled by the Grand Secretariat. You are not to exhaust your imperial body again. Only when Your Majesty’s health improves may you resume governance.”
As she left Yangxin Hall, she instructed Qiong Gu, “Gather every attendant in this hall. You are to lecture them yourself, make them understand what it means to keep silent as the grave. If even a single word of what happened today leaks out, I will not only cut out their tongues but also punish their families!”
The Emperor did not stop her. He too did not wish word of today’s events to reach the officials and cause turmoil in court.
But once the palace gates opened at dawn, the Emperor instructed Lan Xi, “Summon Yang Ting and Yan Xing to the imperial study.”
Yang Ting was the newly appointed Gelao; Yan Xing, the Minister of Rites. The two spoke privately with the Emperor for the time it takes one stick of incense to burn before leaving the palace, faces grim.
Afterward, the Emperor summoned Shen Qi.
This audience was even shorter. The Emperor said only a few words: “You are the blade in my hand, its edge soaked with the blood of officials and nobles. If I am gone, you will surely die. You, and those who follow you, even all who have close dealings with you, will be torn apart by countless vengeful hands.”
Shen Qi dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “This minister understands.”
“Of course,” the Emperor continued coldly, “you may not even live to see that revenge. I might break you with my own hands first, to remove future trouble.”
“This minister understands.”
“Then tell me, why do I still keep you alive?”
“…Because of His Highness the Crown Prince.”
“And?”
Shen Qi could not speak that other name. It was as if a bullet had pierced his chest, the gunpowder exploding inside, leaving his heart in tatters.
He lifted his head, meeting the Emperor’s gaze, and ground out between clenched teeth, humiliated yet helpless, “Because Su… once pleaded for me before Your Majesty.”
The Emperor regarded him steadily. From the very first day he had promoted Shen Qi, there had never been any true bond between sovereign and subject, only cold calculation and mutual use.
Shen Qi knew well that in this lifetime, he and the Emperor could never be confidants. The Emperor disdained such sentiment, and Shen Qi had no interest in it.
Yet at this moment, they could only entrust themselves to each other.
The Emperor said, “Go to Nanjing. Bring the Crown Prince back safely.”
Shen Qi asked, “And what about him?”
Yes, what about him? Was it that he did not wish to see the Crown Prince, or that he did not dare? The Emperor was silent for a moment before sighing softly. “He cannot let go of the Crown Prince. He will surely follow.”
Could it be that he could not let go of the Crown Prince, or the Emperor himself? Shen Qi fell silent, then gritted his teeth and said, “This minister… obeys the decree.”
The imperial guards stationed outside the city were finally put to use. Without even alarming the city gate sentries, Shen Qi led the elite unit swiftly out of the capital, riding straight toward Nanjing.
He left Gao Shuo and the covert agents in the capital, to relay intelligence via carrier pigeons through the network of Embroidered Uniform Guard posts along the route.
Four days later, as Shen Qi headed south along the Grand Canal and reached Dezhou, Gao Shuo’s first secret report arrived:
His Majesty has not appeared in public for several days, and morning court remains suspended. The officials are uneasy. But Lan Xi has delivered a decree, saying the Dragon Body is unwell and will rest for a few days, urging the ministers to stay calm and perform their duties.
Eight days later, when Shen Qi reached Xuzhou, another report came:
His Majesty still has not appeared. The officials are growing restless, worried about the Emperor’s health. The Empress Dowager issued a decree saying His Majesty’s condition is not serious, only that he is weak after illness and needs time to recuperate.
Twelve days later, as Shen Qi pressed on day and night to reach Yangzhou, Gao Shuo’s next report said:
Reliable intelligence from palace informants indicates that His Majesty now spends more time unconscious than awake. The Grand Secretariat is managing state affairs. All matters requiring imperial approval are still being sent to the palace for “rescript,” yet the annotations are not in the Emperor’s own hand, they are being penned by Eunuch Lan of the Directorate of Ceremonies.
Fourteen days later, Shen Qi finally arrived in Nanjing, and received Gao Shuo’s final message:
His Majesty is gravely ill! The Empress Dowager, fearing unrest among officials and the people, is concealing the truth. While lucid, His Majesty personally wrote an edict of succession, one copy meant for the Grand Secretariat, another for the Empress Dowager. But the Empress Dowager intercepted the copy bound for the Secretariat and now holds both in her hands, the edict’s whereabouts are unknown.
I fear the empire stands on the brink. The situation is perilous, and I dare not send further pigeons. My lord, act wisely, and take care!
Shen Qi burned the secret letter to ashes, gazed distantly toward the Yuejiang Tower atop Lion Hill, and ordered Shi Yanshuang, “We won’t enter Nanjing City yet. Go to the Zhong Mountain Mausoleum residence, meet the Crown Prince first.”
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