Chapter 124: Earthquake (Part 3)

Chapter 124: Earthquake (Part III)

The rain seemed to have eased. A mass of people huddled in the plaza: the Empress Dowager, the Grand Empress Dowager, Consort Wu, the Prince of Cheng, and Zhu Qizhen himself, all surrounded by a throng of confused eunuchs and palace maids. Even with Wang Zhen attempting to maintain order, the chaos was absolute.

Zhu Qizhen emerged and, without a word, ordered the guards to drag several rioters forward and execute them on the spot. It was a classic display of killing the chicken to scare the monkey. The plaza fell into an instant, deathly silence, broken only by the sound of rain. Zhu Qizhen finally let out a breath. He then commanded Wang Zhen to assemble the heads of each palace department to restore order, and only then did the palace begin to settle.

They labored through the night. As the sky slowly lightened, heavy black clouds still obscured the sun. The arrival of dawn was marked only by an increase in visibility, shifting the landscape from a black backdrop to a palette of dark gray, red, and white—the gray of the sky, the red of the palace walls, and the white of the stone tiles.

Dawn had come, and with it the time to open the palace gates. The earthquake seemed to have passed; no further tremors followed. Zhu Qizhen ordered Wang Zhen to continue managing palace affairs and directed the servants to return to their respective quarters. The buildings of the Forbidden City were exceptionally sturdy, and apart from a few minor structures, they remained unscathed.

However, safety within the palace walls did not mean safety for the city of Beijing. Zhu Qizhen canceled the morning court and went to the Wenyuan Pavilion to summon the cabinet ministers, the heads of the Six Ministries, the Censorate, and the generals of the Five Chief Military Commissions. He also specifically requested the presence of Yu Qian.

When Zhu Qizhen arrived at the Wenyuan Pavilion, he found that not all the ministers had gathered. Yang Shiqi, Yang Rong, Yang Pu, and Hu Ying were present, but Zhang Fu was missing. Zhu Qizhen found this strange; though Zhang Fu was a military man, he was the most cautious of men. When summoned by the Emperor, he would only be early, never late. Unless, of course, something had happened at his home.

A moment later, Zhang Fu arrived. Zhu Qizhen immediately noticed that something was wrong. Zhang Fu’s robes were heavily creased, his trousers were caked in mud, and his hair was disheveled, with stray locks hanging before his eyes. All of it was white. Though his hair had been gray before, it had been mostly black with streaks of white; now, it was predominantly white, with only traces of black. He seemed to have aged decades in an instant. In an era that placed such high value on etiquette, appearing before the Emperor in such a state was a grave breach of protocol.

Zhu Qizhen could not help but ask, "Duke of Ying, what has happened?"

Zhang Fu replied, "Your Majesty, my son passed away last night."

The words were spoken with a flat, plain tone, yet they carried a weight of infinite sorrow. Zhang Fu was no longer a young man; he had suffered the tragedy of losing a son in his twilight years—his only son, at that. Regardless of his world-renowned fame, what did it matter if he had no heir to carry on his legacy?

The ministers in the room sighed in sympathy. They were all elderly men, each with children and grandchildren of their own, and they understood the depth of Zhang Fu’s pain. But for Zhu Qizhen, the reaction was different. He murmured, "Zhang Zhong has left us just like that? Did he leave a final memorial?"

Zhang Fu said, "My son said before he passed that his life's work was contained within his 'Treatise on Feudalism.' Aside from that, he had no other words."

Yang Shiqi’s eyes flickered. He focused on the mention of the "Treatise on Feudalism," immediately wondering what it contained.

Zhu Qizhen was about to speak, but Zhang Fu interrupted, "Your Majesty, my son’s affairs are secondary to the state’s. As I walked here, I saw water pooling in many places outside the palace, and countless houses damaged. The common people are suffering in deep misery. I dare not let my son’s death hinder the urgent business of the court."

"I understand," Zhu Qizhen said. He did not mention Zhang Zhong again, though his heart was heavy. He had long known that Zhang Zhong was in poor health and that the imperial physicians had warned he might pass at any time. But knowing was one thing; facing the reality was another. He thought back to the "Treatise on Feudalism" and realized that this grand work was not written in ink, but in blood.

"What is the situation outside?" Zhu Qizhen asked.

No one answered. Zhu Qizhen looked at Zhang Fu, who replied, "The Beijing Garrison only patrols the city defenses and guards the walls; matters within the city fall to the Five-City Military Patrol Office."

Zhu Qizhen immediately looked toward the Ministry of War. Wang Ji had already headed south, so the Ministry of War was currently under the control of Chai Che. Seeing the Emperor’s gaze, Chai Che immediately stated, "The Five-City Military Patrol Office is only responsible for catching thieves and maintaining public order. A disaster of this scale—an earthquake and flooding—is not something the Ministry of War can handle alone. This is a matter for the Ministry of Works."

Zhu Qizhen turned his gaze to Li Cheng. Seeing the Emperor looking at him, Li Cheng knelt on the ground with a thud. "Your Majesty... the Ministry of Works has limited manpower. Beijing is a newly built city, and the drainage system is inadequate. Clearing the waterways is a massive task that our Ministry cannot handle alone. Furthermore, it involves the inner palace."

Upon hearing the mention of the "inner palace," Zhu Qizhen immediately understood. The palace city contained three lakes, which were the hub of the capital's water system. The palace would never be under the control of outside ministers, yet the water did not respect such boundaries.

Zhu Qizhen looked at Yang Shiqi and asked, "What does the Senior Grand Secretary suggest?"

Yang Shiqi replied, "The capital is a vital place with much at stake. In my view, we should appoint a high-ranking official to oversee disaster relief exclusively."

Zhu Qizhen’s gaze fell upon Wang Wen. It was not necessarily that he favored Wang Wen, but Yang Shiqi’s implication was clear. The reason was simple: the imperial envoys dispatched by the Ming usually held ranks within the Censorate.

The "high-ranking official" had to be someone within this room. But the five cabinet ministers were all elderly. Had Zhang Zhong not died, Zhu Qizhen might have chosen Zhang Fu. After all, Beijing was full of soldiers, and mobilizing them for major public works was common. Zhu Qizhen knew Zhang Fu was talented in both civil and military affairs and could command the respect of the prideful and unruly troops. But Zhang Fu was incapacitated by grief, and many of the Six Ministries were already entangled in the issue—the Ministry of Works, the Ministry of War, even the Ministry of Revenue.

The Prefect of Shuntian only managed matters outside the city walls; as for affairs within Beijing, the Prefect had little authority. Every government office had its hands in the pot: the Five Chief Military Commissions, the Ministries of War, Works, and Revenue, not to mention the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot. It was a case of "nine dragons managing the water." And one could not forget the Shuntian Prefecture, which was theoretically the primary authority for Beijing, yet managed to be responsible for everything and nothing at the same time.

Such was life under the Emperor's feet. If a family were wiped out in the provinces, the news might never reach the center, but if one person died in Beijing, it could reach the Emperor’s ears. This was Beijing. Yet, this was not the Beijing Zhu Qizhen liked. In his view, the city’s management was a total mess.

If Beijing was like this, one could only imagine other cities. In the south, there were many "striking guilds"—what would be known in modern times as organized crime. Zhu Qizhen had originally placed Yu Qian in the position of Prefect of Shuntian, hoping to use him to gain control over the capital’s surroundings, but it had been a disappointment. It was not that Yu Qian had achieved nothing—he was incorruptible and had disciplined many dissolute young nobles—but his efforts had been focused outside the city walls. He had pushed for land reclamation, planted rice along the Yongding River, and repaired the post roads. Everyone now knew Yu Qian was a capable official, laying the groundwork for the future, but that was not what Zhu Qizhen needed right now.

At this moment, Zhu Qizhen sensed an opportunity. "Is Yu Qian here?" he asked.

As soon as he spoke, everyone understood that the high-ranking official the Emperor favored was Yu Qian. Although Yu Qian was not yet technically a high-ranking official, his capabilities were more than sufficient.

Wang Zhen immediately sent a young eunuch to inquire. A moment later, the eunuch returned and said, "Lord Yu is here, he is just changing his robes."

"These are extraordinary times," Zhu Qizhen said. "Tell him there is no need to change; let him enter."

Wang Zhen quickly agreed and sent someone to hurry Yu Qian along. Before long, Yu Qian arrived.