Chapter Thirty-One: The Depths of Kun Ning Palace

While Zhu Hao sat restlessly in his bedchamber, the Kunning Palace, which had been fraught with tension earlier that day, was far from tranquil. Two of the most powerful women in the realm were present—one lay prostrate on the throne, sobbing softly, while the other stood nearby, murmuring words of consolation.

The one weeping was none other than Empress Guo, the mother of the nation, now under house arrest by Emperor Zhu Changluo. The woman at her side, offering comfort, was Dowager Consort Zheng, the very one who had defended Empress Guo earlier that day.

Through her tears, Empress Guo choked out, “Dowager… Consort… tell me, how could that heartless man be so cruel? Apart from failing to bear him a son, when have I ever wronged him? Today he seeks to depose me—such ruthlessness! What do I lack compared to that harlot, Consort Liu? Why must he treat me so?”

Dowager Consort Zheng listened calmly, replying, “I warned you long ago your man was ambitious, but you insisted on pleading with me, promising that once he ascended the throne, he would honor me above all, heed my every word. I trusted you and aided him in secret. But what was the result? Once he became emperor, even I could hardly get an audience. And now you find yourself in this predicament. Had I not arrived in time today, you would have lost your title as empress! Do you regret it now?”

Empress Guo could barely control her sobs. “I—regret it bitterly! But what can I do now? He is the emperor; regret comes too late for me!”

Dowager Consort Zheng let out a cold laugh. “And what of it? He may be emperor, but if you and I join forces, I guarantee his reign will be far from secure. If only Pang Bao and Liu Cheng had not been so foolish as to involve a madman and ruin everything! Otherwise, my own son would be emperor, and I would not be left so alone.”

She referred to events of the forty-third year of the Wanli reign, when she had still been Imperial Consort Zheng, and Zhu Changluo but the crown prince. At that time, a man named Zhang Cha, wielding a wooden club, broke into the Ciqing Palace where the prince resided, attacking all he encountered and nearly harming Zhu Changluo himself. Only the desperate protection of a gate eunuch saved the prince. Zhang Cha was captured by the imperial guard and, under interrogation, revealed that Pang Bao and Liu Cheng, eunuchs under Consort Zheng, had brought him into the palace and incited the attack. For an imperial consort to plot against the crown prince was an unpardonable crime, but Emperor Wanli, besotted with Consort Zheng, repeatedly sought to set aside the rightful heir and install her son, Prince Fu, as the new crown prince, only to be thwarted by the ministers. When the incident was reported, the emperor shielded Consort Zheng, refusing a proper investigation. Zhang Cha was executed for treason and madness, while Pang Bao and Liu Cheng were secretly put to death, and the affair was closed—a case known to history as the “Cane Incident.” At its root, it was a struggle over the succession.

As Dowager Consort Zheng dredged up old wounds, Empress Guo abruptly sat up, her tears forgotten. The wisdom that had always shone in her eyes returned, banishing all trace of her earlier distress.

She fixed Dowager Consort Zheng with a cool gaze. “Out of respect, I call you Dowager Consort. But do not forget: whatever his faults, the emperor is still my husband. I will not join you in plotting against him, no matter what you have done for me today. I know what you seek, and I advise you to abandon such hopes. Even if something were to befall the emperor, the throne should pass from father to son—never to your child!”

She then added, eyes steely, “For the sake of your help today, I will tell you plainly: Zhu Changluo may be ungrateful, but I shall never betray him.”

Her mind drifted to a memory—a gentle young man speaking to a lovely, sorrowful girl amid the flowers: “Mei’er, you’ve been standing alone in the garden for so long—do you miss home again? Don’t worry; I’ll cherish you always. Look how beautiful that blossom is—I’ll pick it for you. The most beautiful flower must adorn the most beautiful girl.” The girl, her sadness fading, took his hand and smiled with happiness.

It was the scene from when she first entered the palace. Zhu Changluo had been attentive and loving, making her feel like the happiest woman in the world. The memories came in a rush. Then the vision shifted. The same man, now more mature and clad in the four-clawed dragon robe of the crown prince, hurled accusations at her: “Wretch! You’re just like your father—no good at all! My greatest mistake was marrying you!” Ignoring her cries, he stormed off.

That was the first time he lost his temper with her, all because of political differences with his father. Yet what had that to do with her? She had done nothing wrong.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as these memories replayed. Then another image: the prince, now emperor, brought a beautiful woman to the palace and announced that she would live there from now on. Empress Guo remembered her despair, though she tried to comfort herself that perhaps he would return to her. But from that day on, he never looked her way again.

Her tears flowed like a breached dam. Who could understand her heartache? Now this faithless man sought to strip her of her last dignity—the title of empress. She had given him her all; what wrong had she done?

Lost in these thoughts, she murmured, “Have you forgotten the promise you made to Mei’er in the garden?”

Her reverie was broken by Dowager Consort Zheng’s cold snort. “Don’t be so naïve. The men of the Zhu family are born cold and unfeeling. You could cry your heart out here, and he would not care. Even if you were to die in this palace today, not a single tear would he shed—he might even rejoice.”

Stung by her venomous words, Empress Guo snapped, “Silence! Do not presume on your seniority to speak to me thus. Do not forget who stands behind me! Hmph!”

Unimpressed, Dowager Consort Zheng sneered, “I dare not cross Grand Secretary Guo, but do not forget that the current chief minister, Master Fang, is my own ally. If you wish to contend with me, I am ready at any time. But if you do, your faithless husband will only applaud. Even so, he will never care for you, only watch from the sidelines and enjoy the spectacle.”

She paused, then continued, “I believe that Grand Secretary Guo is too wise to act so rashly. I suggest we join forces for your own good. Rest assured, my son will not vie for the throne with yours. You would become empress dowager, ruling from behind the curtain, and fulfill your ambitions. Why pine for a man whose heart is no longer yours?”

Empress Guo was moved by these words—she could not deny their power. Yet she did not lose her composure. Meeting Dowager Consort Zheng’s gaze, as if peering straight into her soul, she finally spoke: “I must admit your words are persuasive. But why are you doing this? Don’t tell me you have no selfish motive—I would never believe such a lie.”

Seeing Empress Guo swayed, Dowager Consort Zheng’s expression softened. “My demands are simple. Once the new emperor ascends, I wish for Prince Fu to be summoned back to the capital, so that I might enjoy family happiness. In government, I hope Master Fang will remain chief minister and continue to guide the realm. That is all I ask.”

Empress Guo understood at once: Dowager Consort Zheng wished for Prince Fu to reside long-term in the capital, and for Fang Congzhe to remain chief minister after the new emperor took the throne.

After considering for some time, Empress Guo nodded. “I agree to your terms. But one thing must be made clear: should the day come when the faithless one falls into your hands, you must confine him, but not harm his life. If you consent, I will have my family report to my father tomorrow. Otherwise, our discussion ends here.”

Though reluctant, Dowager Consort Zheng had little choice. She turned and walked slowly from the great hall of Kunning Palace. Her voice floated back from outside: “I agree.”

Empress Guo slowly raised her head, watching as Dowager Consort Zheng disappeared into the palace night. It was the first day of the new month; the sky was moonless, shrouded in dark clouds. Empress Guo’s eyes, once filled with sorrow and despair, now burned with a feverish, unyielding resolve. Deep within Kunning Palace, the storm was gathering, and the air was tense with the promise of upheaval.