Volume One, The Infant Dragon Opens Its Eyes - Chapter 132: The Request of Princess Qingdu

Facts proved that Dowager Empress Sun’s capability was quite formidable.

Merely after a single night, she had settled the entire matter.

This brought a great sigh of relief to Zhu Qizhen.

After all, in this era that valued familial ties, executing Jiao Jing could still be justified by the law of the state. However, if Princess Qingdu had truly stirred up a massive uproar, it would not have reflected well on Zhu Qizhen’s reputation.

Upon hearing that Dowager Empress Sun had already pacified Princess Qingdu, Zhu Qizhen immediately said, "I thank the Empress Mother for this."

Dowager Empress Sun smiled faintly and said, "Between mother and son, there is no need for such formalities. It is just that Qingdu has her conditions."

Zhu Qizhen asked, "What are my aunt's conditions?"

Dowager Empress Sun replied, "Qingdu wishes to remarry."

Hearing this, Zhu Qizhen instantly found the situation rather thorny.

This conformed neither to the social customs of the present day nor to the ancestral dynastic laws.

Later scholars commented that the domestic laws of the Ming Dynasty were the most virtuous. Among these virtues was the rule that princesses never remarried. From the founding Emperor Taizu down to the present day, whether a princess and her consort were an affectionate couple or a pair of resentful partners, they were never separated halfway through life.

Because the mainstream ideology of the officialdom advocated for chastity, and countless eyes watched the affairs of the imperial family, many things simply could not be done.

Zhu Qizhen did not necessarily agree with this dynastic law himself, but he already possessed the mindset of a politician. Whether a matter was right or wrong was not of paramount importance.

The most crucial factor was the investment of political costs versus the returns.

While Zhu Qizhen certainly disliked those literati officials who claimed that starving to death was a minor matter compared to losing one's chastity, the imperial court currently relied heavily on the assistance of the scholar-official clique to govern the realm.

Zhu Qizhen was truly unwilling to spark a massive political storm over such a trivial matter.

Dowager Empress Sun sighed and said, "Qingdu is actually quite pitiful. Born of a secondary consort, she was never favored by the Grand Empress Dowager. Back then, she was raised in the palace alongside me, and our relationship was quite good. After marrying Jiao Jing, she came to me in tears on numerous occasions."

"Her relationship with Jiao Jing was far from harmonious."

"In truth, of all the people in the world who desire Jiao Jing's death, she is likely foremost among them."

"Yet, for a woman who has lost her husband and possesses no offspring, what can the second half of her life amount to other than universal revulsion and disgust? Even with the status of a princess, what does it matter?"

"No matter how much she loests Jiao Jing, she had no choice but to come here and plead for him."

A wave of quiet pity stirred within Zhu Qizhen's heart.

He often wondered why modern women yearned so desperately to time-travel back to ancient times, completely oblivious to the fact that upon returning to the past, even a princess could never guarantee her own marital happiness.

Most ended up just like Princess Qingdu.

Zhu Qizhen said, "Empress Mother, this matter can only be handled gradually. We cannot rush it. I will search for a suitable match for my aunt."

Dowager Empress Sun said, "With those words, I am finally at ease."

Indeed, this matter could not be rushed. Leaving aside the anticipated opposition from the censorate and ministers, simply the fact that her husband had just passed away while she was already plotting a remarriage would look far too unseemly.

With the heavy rain continuing unabated and Zhu Qizhen's duties keeping him constantly occupied, Dowager Empress Sun did not linger much longer.

Zhu Qizhen escorted the Empress Dowager back and watched as she disappeared into the dim, gloomy palace walls, sheltered by a procession of court ladies holding umbrellas. Only then did he return to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, where he took a pre-spread memorial and wrote a massive character for "Execute" in vermilion ink.

The bright red cinnabar looked precisely like dripping blood.

As soon as this imperial rescript was finalized, a eunuch respectfully lifted it.

He walked all the way out of the Palace of Heavenly Purity and arrived at the Meridian Gate.

In the vast plaza before the Meridian Gate, the opposing city watchtowers faced one another, while the central gate tower stood loftily. The torrential rain wove itself into a dense curtain, densely entangling the sky and the earth.

Yet, right here, dozens of people knelt in the driving rain.

These individuals were all obstructionists who had hindered the flood control efforts during the current disaster.

After all, within the capital city of Beijing, high-ranking officials and nobles abounded who never regarded the laws of the court with any respect; in their eyes, the Shuntian Prefecture was worth less than a bird's feather.

Jiao Jing was merely a single instance.

Standing amidst the cascading rain, the young eunuch shouted loudly, "By imperial decree, execute!"

Jiao Jing was utterly shocked and struggled frantically.

However, he had long since been tightly bound with ropes, and a rag was jammed firmly into his mouth, preventing him from uttering a single sound. How could he possibly break free from the grasp of the Brocade Guard?

These Brocade Guard operatives were veterans of execution.

Hearing that the imperial decree had arrived, without a word, they raised their long sabers, and blood sprayed directly into the air.

In an instant, Jiao Jing was decapitated.

The death of Jiao Jing was merely one among countless lives snuffed out during the summer of the fourth year of the Zhengtong era.

Nevertheless, Jiao Jing’s head achieved its intended effect; no one within the capital dared to defy Yu Qian’s orders any longer.

Following the flow of the floodwaters, Yu Qian ordered the digging of trenches, cutting straight through any residential compound that happened to lie in the path. Countless private courtyards were ruthlessly severed right down the middle.

Such an unsparing approach naturally earned Yu Qian a great deal of bitter resentment.

Yet, it also dramatically increased the efficiency of the engineering work.

In a matter of mere days, initial results became visible.

Although the continuous downpour had not yet ceased, the accumulated water within the city showed no signs of spreading further.

Only then did Zhu Qizhen let out a relieved breath.

Over the past few days, Zhu Qizhen had devoted his heart and soul entirely to flood control, setting aside matters in other areas.

However, there was one urgent affair that could not be put aside.

Because the Prince of Yue had passed away.

When Zhu Qizhen received this news, alongside a pang of sorrow, he felt a sense of long-anticipated inevitability.

After all, the Prince of Yue’s illness was not a matter of a day or two.

He had suffered from it since childhood.

The Prince of Yue had contracted his affliction from his mother's womb, and many renowned physicians had long predicted that he would likely not live to adulthood, and that the illness might even preclude him from having descendants—which was precisely why all the other imperial princes had been sent out to their respective fiefdoms while the Prince of Yue alone remained in the capital. Looking back now, he had actually lived to the age of thirty-five.

This was the greatest blessing amid misfortune, far exceeding the estimates made by those famous doctors during his childhood.

Yet, this was merely the perspective of Zhu Qizhen.

For the Grand Empress Dowager, the blow remained entirely unacceptable.

The Grand Empress Dowager had only ever given birth to three sons.

Her eldest was Emperor Xuanzong, her second was the Prince of Yue, and her youngest was the Prince of Xiang. Now, she had buried two of them. Regardless of the reason, an elder burying a younger person was the deepest agony known to mankind.

Furthermore, the Grand Empress Dowager’s physical health was vastly inferior to what it used to be.

When Emperor Xuanzong passed away, although the Grand Empress Dowager was grief-stricken, she had been even more worried about the destiny of the state. By now, however, she had already decided to entrust all major affairs of the court to Zhu Qizhen.

With the heavy burden in her heart largely lifted, hearing of the Prince of Yue’s death proved to be the final straw.

She promptly fell ill.

The elderly were different from the young. When a young person fell sick, the illness usually arrived swiftly and departed quickly; but once an elderly person fell ill, they remained bedridden for a prolonged period, and recovery was as tedious as drawing silk from a cocoon.

Zhu Qizhen moved his personal living quarters into the Palace of Compassionate Tranquility, personally serving medicinal decoctions every single day, and conducted state affairs in the room directly adjacent to the Grand Empress Dowager’s bedchamber.

Because the torrential rains continued unabated, morning court sessions were suspended.

After all, grand audiences were not held indoors, but out in the open plaza. One could hardly compel the entire civil and military officialdom to stand in the pouring rain.

Nonetheless, even though Zhu Qizhen was not holding court, he did not slacken in the slightest regarding the governance of the state.

From the various memorials and reports submitted from all directions, Zhu Qizhen could clearly discern that the fourth year of the Zhengtong era was not a benevolent year.

It was not just Beijing that suffered from severe flooding; numerous river systems in Hebei province were also restless, and the Zhangde Prefecture had already experienced breached dikes, though the Grand Secretariat had handled the crisis with commendable promptness.

Accompanying the floods were locust plagues, concentrated mostly in Shandong, with Dongchang Prefecture being the hardest hit.

While Yu Qian labored tirelessly to manage the waterlogging in Beijing, Yang Shiqi maintained the operation of the imperial court, the Marquis of Baoding had already arrived in Nanjing, and Wang Ji was reorganizing the southern garrisons to select capable troops.

The logistical support for the Lucuan Campaign and disaster relief across various regions could not be paused for a single moment.

Previously, Zhu Qizhen had merely been observing state affairs; while those memorials passed before his eyes, he rarely dared to apply his brush to them. Yet now, he was quite naturally issuing various vermilion comments upon them.

Although there was no grand, ceremonial ritual, every official who received these vermilion-inscribed documents understood one singular truth: the long-delayed era of Zhengtong was truly striding forward.

Just as Zhu Qizhen finished reviewing the final batch of memorials, he heard Wang Zhen murmur from the side, "Your Majesty, the Grand Empress Dowager has awakened."

Zhu Qizhen immediately laid down his writing brush and hurried into the Grand Empress Dowager’s bedchamber. Sitting down beside her bed, he spoke in a soft, gentle voice, "Imperial Grandmother, Imperial Grandmother, your grandson has come to see you."

The Grand Empress Dowager’s clouded eyes gradually cleared. Gazing at Zhu Qizhen, she murmured, "Emperor, you have come."

Her reactions were sluggish, her breath was weak, and she paused multiple times between words, a sight that caused a sharp pang of heartache for Zhu Qizhen as he softly replied, "Grandmother, I am here."