Chapter Eighteen: Learning from Emperor Chongzhen in History

At this moment, Empress Guo, who had just been so fierce and imposing, was now rendered speechless by Zhu Changluo’s fury. If even she was so terrified, the maids and eunuchs of the Palace of Pure Tranquility were all the more petrified, kneeling and trembling on the floor, not daring to utter a sound lest they provoke the wrath of the Son of Heaven of Great Ming.

Yet, Zhu Changluo regained his composure almost instantly, though the calm was so chilling it felt like the eerie silence before a volcanic eruption. He glanced at Zhu Hao, still hanging from the beam and barely breathing, then let out a cold snort and spoke in that unsettlingly flat tone: “Why aren’t you letting the Fifth Prince down? Should anything happen to him, I’ll have you wretches buried with him!”

Seeing their mistress had lost her resolve, none of the palace staff dared defy the emperor. They hurriedly cut Zhu Hao down and laid him on the floor. Zhu Hao’s eyes were shut tight, his body shivering—obviously gravely injured. Zhu Changluo immediately ordered his personal eunuch: “Take him back to his quarters at once, and summon every Imperial Physician to treat his wounds!”

The old eunuch obeyed and departed with Zhu Hao. Zhu Changluo turned, his gaze icy as he looked at Empress Guo: “You venomous woman! I have tolerated you time and again, but my patience has limits. Today I’ll let it pass, but once he wakes, I’ll settle accounts with you properly!”

With that, he led Gongsun Ce and his retinue away from the Palace of Pure Tranquility, commanding that it be sealed from today onward. No one was to enter or leave; violators would be executed without mercy. He further posted a squad of guards to watch day and night. This was, in effect, placing Empress Guo under house arrest—a sign to all that Zhu Changluo was genuinely furious.

Zhu Hao had truly lost consciousness and did not know how the Imperial Physicians treated him. When he finally awoke, it was already dusk. He stared blankly at the ceiling, recalling the humiliation he’d suffered today, and clenched his fist in anger—only to realize he was gripping a warm, delicate hand. In his fury, he’d used considerable force, causing the owner of that hand to cry out in pain. Zhu Hao turned his head to see whose hand he was holding, and followed the slender arm upwards. He beheld a woman of breathtaking beauty, her eyes swollen and red as almonds, her cheeks streaked with tears. The sight made Zhu Hao’s heart ache fiercely, for this beautiful woman was none other than his mother, Consort Liu, in this life.

Zhu Hao wanted to comfort her, but before he could speak, Consort Liu exclaimed in delight: “You’re awake, my child! You’ve frightened your mother to death. If anything were to happen to you, I couldn’t go on living! Oh—” She clutched his small hand and burst into tears.

Zhu Hao’s mind was in turmoil. He vaguely remembered smashing that old witch’s cloisonné vase, being strung up and beaten, and then his father’s arrival—after which everything became a blur. He desperately wanted to console Consort Liu, but since he was still feigning illness, he knew that speaking now would ruin everything.

Yet seeing his mother so distraught filled him with unbearable sorrow. Perhaps the agitation stirred his memories, for suddenly he recalled a passage from the History of Ming concerning Zhu Youjian’s childhood: “The Emperor was silent and taciturn in his youth. All believed he was useless, but thanks to his endurance he survived the calamity of the eunuchs.” This described how the future Chongzhen Emperor was able to endure, remaining silent and avoiding conversation, so that everyone dismissed him as worthless. In truth, he had fooled them all, and thus was able to ascend the throne and destroy Wei Zhongxian, the infamous eunuch.

Reflecting on this, and the present circumstances, Zhu Hao had an idea. If silence and taciturnity could ward off disaster, then there was no need to feign madness any longer.

With this in mind, Zhu Hao finally spoke to Consort Liu: “Mother, I’m alright.”

“Ah? What did you call me just now? You recognize me?” Consort Liu jumped up in joy, gazing at Zhu Hao. Yet he said nothing more. Still, she’d clearly heard his words and, elated, instructed the maid Cai Xia: “Go find the Emperor, tell him the Fifth Prince recognizes me now! Hurry!”

Cai Xia, sharing her mistress’s happiness, replied cheerfully and rushed out.

About the time it takes to burn two sticks of incense, Zhu Changluo entered Zhu Hao’s quarters, his face wreathed in smiles, gazing at Zhu Hao with fatherly affection: “Youjian, do you know who I am? Does your body still hurt?”

Zhu Hao regarded his father, whose excitement was tinged with worry, and felt a pang in his heart. “What wonderful parents I have. Yet why is it that good people die young?” He couldn’t help but worry about the impending “Red Pill Case” set to occur on September 26th—the end of this very month—which would shock the entire Ming court. It was this scandal that would claim his father’s life in his prime and cause his mother’s mysterious demise.

Not wishing to disappoint Zhu Changluo, Zhu Hao quickly replied: “Father Emperor, you are my father. I am fine, please don’t worry, and take care of yourself!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhu Changluo began pacing in excitement, waving his arms and legs, all dignity forgotten. He fussed over Zhu Hao: “Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? I’ll have the kitchens prepare it right away!”

But this time, Zhu Hao simply stared listlessly at the ceiling, uttering not a word. The Emperor’s joy faded, and he immediately ordered: “Summon the Imperial Physicians. My son is not usually like this—have them examine him for hidden injuries!”

After about the time it takes to burn one stick of incense, a group of Imperial Physicians arrived and took turns checking Zhu Hao’s pulse. He offered no resistance, merely gazing vacantly at the ceiling, ignoring all their questions. Eventually, the physicians gathered to discuss in hushed voices.

Zhu Hao mused silently, “This must be the earliest example of a specialist consultation. But even you seasoned doctors probably have no answer for psychological disorders like this!”

They debated for half an hour, showing no sign of stopping. Zhu Changluo could endure no longer and barked, “What’s going on? Who can give me an explanation?”

At his command, the physicians instantly ceased their discussion. An elder with a white beard stepped forward, trembling, and bowed: “Your Majesty, the Fifth Prince’s meridians are clear, he has no hidden illnesses. His wounds are mostly superficial; they haven’t harmed his organs. With external herbal remedies, he’ll recover soon. Please, Your Majesty, do not worry—take care of yourself!”

Hearing this, Zhu Changluo kicked the old physician to the floor and roared, “Nonsense! My son is not usually like this. Have you ever seen a normal child staring vacantly at the ceiling without speaking to anyone? You useless quacks—what’s the point of keeping you?”

The physicians all knelt, trembling, and pleaded, “We are incompetent—please calm your anger, Your Majesty!”

Seeing the fury in Zhu Changluo’s eyes, as if he might have them all executed on a whim, they huddled on the floor in terror. At last, the white-bearded elder spoke again, voice shaking: “Your Majesty, the Fifth Prince’s condition is indeed abnormal, but it is not due to physical causes. It’s a self-protective response to external trauma, and only he can recover on his own. Medicine is of no use.”

Zhu Hao, lying in bed, listened to this explanation and quietly admired the old physician. “He really knows his stuff. Though he didn’t call it a psychological disorder, the meaning is close enough—it all leads to the same place.”

The Emperor’s expression improved somewhat, but the worry that had marked him since entering the room did not fade. After pondering a moment, he asked, “How long will it take for Youjian to recover from this?”

The old physician answered hesitantly, “Your Majesty, I cannot say. Perhaps three to five days, perhaps a month or two, perhaps three to five years, perhaps—”

Zhu Changluo interrupted, “Perhaps never? Is that what you mean?”

The old physician bowed again, “I am incompetent, Your Majesty. The Fifth Prince’s recovery depends on the severity of his trauma. I truly cannot say, nor dare I deceive Your Majesty. Please forgive me!”

Zhu Changluo snorted coldly, then said in a tone of eerie calm, “You are not at fault. The one to blame is that venomous woman, and I shall not let her go unpunished.” Then, turning to the physicians, he continued, “You have all worked hard because of Youjian these days. Go and receive your reward.”