Chapter 295: The Crown Prince’s Troubles

Since no official decree to relocate the capital had yet been issued, Nanjing remained the capital of the Ming Dynasty, while Beijing was referred to as the temporary seat of government. With the emperor residing in Beijing and the crown prince governing in Nanjing, fast horses traveled back and forth between the two capitals all night long, keeping the stations along the way extremely busy. It was important to take good care of the horses used in these trips—if not properly cleaned and fed, they could easily collapse from exhaustion, leading to serious consequences.

Early one morning, not long after the Shence Gate in Nanjing opened for traffic, the people queuing to enter the city heard the sound of hurried horse hooves. Turning around, they saw a fast horse approaching at full speed. Most people simply went back to their tasks as usual, but the tax collectors paid attention to the messenger.

It was said that the crown prince’s health had been fluctuating these days, and most matters of governance were handled jointly by him and ministers like Yang Shiqi who remained in Nanjing. So even if there were urgent news in the capital, it was likely meant for the crown prince.

The messenger was familiar with the roads between the two capitals and knew Nanjing’s streets and alleys well. After passing through Shence Gate, he turned onto Anren Street, then Hongwu Street, and proceeded to the eighteen guards west of Zhenzhu Tower. He then followed the west wall of the imperial palace before dismounting in front of Xianmen and showing his identification badge to the guards. This was a routine procedure, and after checking his badge, the guards allowed him through. The messenger then hurried to Wumen in the palace complex to deliver the letter, where eunuchs took it to the eastern palace, while he was sent to wait in the duty room as usual.

Just after returning to Rouyi Hall from visiting his father, Zhu Gaochi, Zhu Zhanji received a letter from Beijing. Although he had been busy taking care of his father and attending to ministerial reports, leaving him with little free time, he did not dare neglect it. Upon opening the letter and reading its contents, he frowned at the unfamiliar yet somewhat familiar handwriting. It was not until he saw Zhu Di’s imperial signature at the end that his brows relaxed.

The duty between ruler and subject took precedence over family ties. Thus, the letter, mostly written by ministers, carefully detailed recent appointments and measures in Beijing. Zhu Di did not express any familial affection but instead directly asked Zhu Zhanji what books he had read and how his studies were progressing, only briefly inquiring about Zhu Gaochi’s illness at the end.

As usual, there was an insert at the back of the letter, written in neat and round handwriting. Zhu Zhanji flipped through it casually and found it to be a set of notes on The Analects, which surprised him a bit. But since it was sent by Zhu Di’s orders, he patiently read it carefully. It wasn’t until he reached the signature at the end that he suddenly understood.

“When did Zhang Yue’s notes on The Analects end up with Grandpa the Emperor? Could it be that the Jinyiwei sneaked into Zhang’s household to spy?”
Seeing Zhu Zhanji in such a good mood, the young eunuch who delivered the letter joked, “Your Majesty has always valued young talents. Perhaps it’s true as the Crown Prince said, and the Jinyiwei spies are keeping an eye on it. Speaking of which, last time the Crown Prince asked the Duke of Cheng to deliver a box of jewelry to the Du family—wouldn’t it be better to include a letter inside?”
“What do you know?” Zhu Zhanji sneered. “If I don’t sign my name, even if Grandpa the Emperor finds out, he’ll just laugh it off. If others guess it, there’s nothing to say either. But if I sign my name, who knows if someone will use that against me? I just said it casually. The Jinyiwei doesn’t even have time to handle their proper duties, let alone pay attention to such things. It must be…”
Thinking of how he had personally written to intercede earlier, he smiled even more smugly. No one knew his grandfather’s temper better than he did. If no one interceded, Zhu Di would often execute officials once they were thrown into the Jinyiwei’s prison, though he might regret it later. But if someone pleaded for them, Zhu Di would get angry at first, yet he would think it over carefully, and the chances of sparing their lives were high. Just like last time when Du Zhen interceded for Liang Qian—although it seemed risky, in the end Liang Qian was still spared.
Liang Qian had taught him classics for three years. Just for that life-saving favor, he owed Du Zhen a huge debt of gratitude. Moreover, Zhang Yue had married into the Du family. He couldn’t help them in other ways, so why be stingy with money?
Now that he had received a letter from the capital, Zhu Zhanji had to draft a reply. Influenced by Zhang Yue’s letters during the British Duke Zhang Fu’s illness, he had learned his lesson and detailed every major matter handled in Nanjing, as well as the progress of his father Zhu Gaochi’s illness. It took him a full hour and a half to write the letter. Only after signing and sealing it did he rub his sore wrists with a wry smile.
This trick wasn’t something everyone could master!

After sealing the letter with official wax, he ordered a young eunuch to deliver it to the previous messenger. He then summoned the two imperial physicians in charge of treating Zhu Gaochi and carefully examined their medical records. This was a routine task every day, and even the questions asked were almost identical. Yet as he flipped through those thick medical records, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

Everyone knew that his father, Zhu Gaochi, was overweight, mobility-limited, and prone to illness—so wouldn’t any incident be easily concealed? The Han King and Zhao King had gone to great lengths to win over the eunuchs in the palace, yet his father paid no attention to this. If those two had bribed one or two eunuchs to carry out a secret assassination… It was impossible. Even if that happened, there was still him, the crown prince!

After a moment, he firmly suppressed this sudden thought. But now, he had no interest in continuing to read the medical records. After asking a few more questions, he sent the two physicians away, feeling an indescribable irritability.

Du Zhen and Zhang Yue, along with their students, had quelled the bandit problem in Shandong and uncovered some clues. Zhang Yue went to Qingzhou to oversee the execution, but was attacked on his way back for no apparent reason. He would never believe it wasn’t the work of the Han King, Zhu Gaoxu. But with such clear evidence, why did his grandfather, Zhu Di, insist on covering it up? Was it because of Zhu Gaoxu’s past military achievements, or something else?

Although Yang Shiqi was a reliable and trusted minister, he was too upright and moralistic. When it came to matters involving the imperial family, he always repeated the same old arguments, claiming that the emperor acted to protect the Han King and Zhao King—but protection should have limits!

“Crown Prince, Lord Yang requests an audience.”

Faced with this situation where his wish seemed to come true instantly, Zhu Zhanji couldn’t help but smirk bitterly. He immediately ordered that Yang Shiqi be received in the main hall. He wasn’t someone who adhered strictly to etiquette, but since Yang Shiqi was left in charge, he had to be extremely cautious to avoid being criticized by him. So, as he sat in his seat and saw Yang Shiqi bowing meticulously, his desire grew stronger—if only Zhang Yue were in Nanjing; at least he would have someone to talk to.

“Crown Prince, the more than 20,000 soldiers who returned from the West are now stationed near Nanjing. Although this is a common practice, it’s time again to distribute grain rations. The emperor has ordered Chen Xuan, the Marquis of Pingjiang, to oversee the grain transport. Most of the grain is sent to Beijing via the canal. After deducting the cost of transporting the grain and covering the expenses of these 20,000 soldiers, it seems that this year the officials in Nanjing will only receive 40% of their annual grain rations, with the rest having to be paid in paper money.”

“40%?”

Zhu Zhanji had once, under Zhu Di’s orders, gone incognito among the people accompanied by Xia Yuanji and others. Though it was merely a cursory inspection, he had heard that now eighty strings of treasure coins were required to exchange for just a thousand copper coins. Thinking of his grandfather’s numerous campaigns in the north, the suppression of rebellions in Annam, and the voyages to the Western Seas—all of which consumed vast amounts of money and resources—he furrowed his brows even more.

Yang Shiji knew well that Zhu Zhanji was inherently intelligent. Bowing slightly, he said, “Xia Yuanji, the Minister of Revenue, sent a private message saying that due to the construction of the three great halls in Beijing, the national treasury has little surplus left. Moreover, out of concern for the people, the emperor has ordered that relief be provided first in affected provinces before reports are submitted. It is said that this summer, various provinces in the north have suffered from floods and droughts. As a result, most of the grain for the north this year will have to come from the south. Additionally, the envoys from various countries who came with the treasure ships brought many gifts, and the rewards to be given will also be a substantial amount.”

Although Zhu Zhanji was not yet the emperor, as the crown prince he must have such awareness. Under these circumstances, he could hardly imagine a situation with an empty treasury and naturally understood Yang Shiji’s purpose in coming.

“Lord Yang, do you want me to gently bring this up with Grandpa Emperor?”

Though he was the chief minister appointed to stay in Nanjing by imperial order, describing Yang Shiji’s situation as walking on thin ice was an understatement. He had a good relationship with Liang Qian in private, but back then he could only watch helplessly as Liang was imprisoned by the Jinyiwei and taken to Beijing. Therefore, as the minister left behind, he was even more cautious.

“Although Minister Xia manages the treasury efficiently, even the most skilled cook cannot cook without rice—preparation is essential. According to reports from the Ministry of War, Arutai seems to be willing to seek peace, submit tribute, and become a vassal. If that’s the case, the north could breathe a sigh of relief. I merely hope the crown prince can gauge the emperor’s stance. After all, the emperor is getting older, and if he were to consider another campaign in the north…”

“Very well!”

Hearing Yang Shiji’s reasoning, Zhu Zhanji immediately recalled the time he had faced danger during a campaign with Zhu Di and quickly made up his mind. Though the idea of an army advancing and terrifying the enemy sounded impressive, only those who had experienced the volatile battlefield firsthand could understand its true nature. So, after Yang Shiji reported a few more urgent matters and left, Zhu Zhanji promptly ordered a eunuch to check whether the messenger had set off. Upon learning that he hadn’t left yet, he sat down and began writing furiously.

He ordered that this letter be sent along with the previous one. After a brief pause, he summoned his trusted eunuch Huang and said in a low voice, “You mentioned before that Zhang Yue has a cousin studying at the Imperial Academy and has not gone north yet. Isn’t there another group of students heading to Beijing this month? Think of a way to have him pass a message to Zhang Yue, saying that I have read his notes on The Analects.” Even though the illiterate eunuch Huang was usually smart, he was at a loss now. Leaving aside everything else, what did it mean to say “I have read it”?