Chapter 68: The Foreshadowing of the Railway

Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Foreshadowing of the Railway

After winter set in, the Forbidden City took on a gentler air. Although the weather had grown much colder, many affairs were excused. Morning lectures and early court sessions, for instance, were suspended; it seemed the entire empire was concerned with the emperor’s health. Especially after entering winter, when Zhu Qizhen caught a cold, the commotion that ensued nearly uprooted the entire Imperial Medical Bureau. Empress Dowager Sun even moved into the Palace of Heavenly Purity, attending to Zhu Qizhen day and night.

At first, Zhu Qizhen didn’t understand their anxiety. Wasn’t it just a minor cold? Later, he realized he couldn’t apply the logic of later ages to illnesses of this era; even a mild cold could prove fatal. Particularly for children, the rate of premature death was unimaginably high. The thought that such a trivial ailment might threaten his life sent a cold sweat down his back. With this realization, his cold quickly improved.

Yet, while Zhu Qizhen believed himself cured, others remained unconvinced. Sun refused to leave the Palace of Heavenly Purity. The Grand Empress Dowager instructed Wang Zhen that, from now until the New Year, not a single memorial from outside should enter the palace. Only when the emperor was fully recovered would he resume governance.

Zhu Qizhen found himself powerless. He could only turn his attention to smaller matters, one of which was the renovation of the Palace of Heavenly Purity.

Was the palace not good enough? It was among the finest buildings in the Forbidden City, better even than the future Palace Museum. The reason was simple: buildings must be maintained by people. A lived-in house is entirely different from one left empty. No matter how splendid the museum might be, it resembled a packaged mummy—lifeless. But the Forbidden City of now brimmed with vitality.

Zhu Qizhen’s dissatisfaction lay in the palace’s immense size. It covered some fourteen hundred square meters; though partitioned, each room was still vast. In spring and autumn, this might be tolerable, but come winter, he felt the bite of cold more keenly. Even with braziers burning, his bed—like a small house—did little to stave off the chill. He suspected his recent illness was due to the cold. Perhaps the climate of antiquity was indeed harsher than later times, or perhaps ancient heating methods lagged behind those of modernity. Regardless, Zhu Qizhen could not endure such cold.

So, once he began to recover, he summoned Ruan An. He gave a simple order: small. He wanted his bedroom to be just large enough for a bed, a table, and a chair. He asked for a flue to be dug beneath the floor, with fires lit below daily to make the room as warm as spring.

With gestures and words, Zhu Qizhen explained his wishes, uncertain if he made himself clear. Yet Ruan An, master builder of the capital, needed little guidance for such a modest project. For him, it was almost beneath his talents.

Nevertheless, Ruan An was delighted. Within three days, he had carved out the little room. Zhu Qizhen spent some time inside and found it much warmer. If he stayed active for a while, a light sweat might even break out.

Overjoyed, Zhu Qizhen said, “Well done, Ruan An. Draw up the plans and present them to the Grand Empress Dowager. Prepare to build similar warm chambers in the Palace of Compassion and the Palace of Earthly Tranquility.”

Ruan An replied, “I obey, Your Majesty.”

In the warmth of the new chamber, Zhu Qizhen felt his spirits lift. “Ruan An, how are things progressing in Mentougou?”

Cao Jixiang, having received a harsh beating at Zhu Qizhen’s hands, would not be able to walk for three months. Thus, the oversight of the coal mines fell to others, and Zhu Qizhen trusted Ruan An to handle the task.

Respectfully, Ruan An responded, “Your Majesty, all palace furnaces and workshops have converted to coal. However, the smoke is excessive; I am seeking a solution.”

Zhu Qizhen mused, “Smoke? Does coal produce smoke?” He knew little of such matters, unaware that coal in later times was refined into briquettes. Raw coal, burned as it was, naturally produced heavy smoke. Even the coal used in his own quarters was selected by some unknown method, requiring as much effort as charcoal, though he did not realize it.

He said, “From Mentougou to the city, coal is transported first by boat, then by cart; it is inconvenient. Is it possible to bring coal directly into the capital from Mentougou?”

Ruan An replied, “If Your Majesty wishes it, I shall see to it at once.”

Zhu Qizhen halted him. “I am not concerned with such trifles. I was reading and came across a question: what were the ‘roads’ of the Qin dynasty like?”

Ruan An replied, “Your Majesty, I do not know, nor does anyone else, I suppose.”

Zhu Qizhen continued, “Ruan, you are our foremost architect. I must consult you. It seems that the Qin’s roads were made for horses to pull carts along continuous tracks. I wish you to consider whether it is possible to construct such a road between Mentougou and the capital, so I may see it for myself.”

Ruan An immediately said, “I obey, Your Majesty. I will ensure the task is done properly. Though I may not recreate the roads of Qin exactly, I will follow your guidance.”

Zhu Qizhen said, “It matters not. It is merely a passing interest. Start when you can.”

“Yes,” Ruan An replied.

Without further word, Zhu Qizhen dismissed him.

When Ruan An had gone, Zhu Qizhen breathed a long sigh. Ever since the Grand Empress Dowager had reprimanded him, he had learned to be cautious, rarely involving himself in external affairs. Within the palace, he limited himself to rooting out corruption and disciplining unruly eunuchs.

Yet, after months of reflection, he felt that certain seeds needed to be sown. For instance, he had finally devised a way: if anyone investigated, they would find records of his discussions with Wang Zhi, debates on the roads of Qin. It would appear that the emperor, inspired during a lecture, wished to experiment with such a road. No one would suspect that Zhu Qizhen was painstakingly laying groundwork for horse-drawn railways, accumulating technical knowledge for the future.

The more he understood of this era, the more he realized the vital importance of water for grain production. Yet the presence of the Grand Canal created a paradox. To support water transport, water had to be kept within the rivers to float the boats. But to increase grain output, water had to be diverted to irrigate the fields.

Only then could the crops flourish. Though the north lacked water, it was not as arid as later imagined. Yet, to supply the Grand Canal, many areas in Shandong were forbidden from irrigating their fields, severely limiting grain production.

Many scholars of the Ming dynasty had noted this issue: not only was there competition for water between the canal and agricultural irrigation, but cheap southern grain suppressed the price of northern grain, making farming unprofitable and stunting agricultural development in the north.

If horse-drawn railways could replace the canal, with more transport lines laid in the north, losses could be reduced, and military campaigns would benefit. Perhaps some water could return to the fields.

No matter how he considered it, the idea held positive potential. Yet for now, Zhu Qizhen could only proceed quietly. In China, the best way to implement change was to invoke antiquity. However, Zhu Qizhen’s chosen precedent was problematic: to Confucian scholars, anything from the despotic Qin was suspect.

To avoid disputes, it was best to act discreetly. He believed Ruan An, a master architect and civil engineer of the age, could certainly produce a wooden track. Mentougou, after all, would benefit from such a rail. Historically, railways began in mines.

As Zhu Qizhen indulged in the satisfaction of his own efforts, a voice was heard outside: “The Empress Dowager arrives!”

Upon hearing this, Zhu Qizhen immediately rose and went forward to greet her. He saw Sun approaching, accompanied by several palace maids. She wore a sable overcoat, with snowy white fur framing her face, radiating a natural glow. After entering, a maid took the coat from her.

Zhu Qizhen went over to assist Sun. “Mother, what brings you here?”