Chapter Sixty-Six: An Audience with Fang Congzhe

Inside his own chambers, Zhu Hao paced anxiously after hearing that his father had already summoned Li Kezhuo to present the miraculous medicine. Consumed by worry, he was silent for a long time, striding back and forth across the room. Wei Xiaobao, who knelt on the floor to report, was so intimidated by his master's agitation that he scarcely dared to breathe, only daring to prostrate himself and wait for orders.

After a while, Zhu Hao finally spoke. "Xiaobao, you say that in the Palace of Heavenly Purity just now, Grand Secretary Fang opposed my father taking the elixir. Is this true?"

Wei Xiaobao hastily replied, "Your Highness, this is intelligence from our sources inside the Palace of Heavenly Purity. There shouldn’t be any mistake!"

Hearing Wei Xiaobao’s confident response, Zhu Hao mused to himself, “This Fang Congzhe should be on Consort Dowager Zheng’s side. She surely wants my father to take the Red Pill, but why is Fang Congzhe so determined to stop him? What happened between them?” Unable to unravel the mystery, he finally shook his head and decided to let it go, thinking, “Whatever Fang Congzhe’s intentions, as long as he opposes my father taking the Red Pill at this moment, our interests are aligned—we can work together.”

With this thought, Zhu Hao instructed Wei Xiaobao to keep watch at the Palace of Heavenly Purity. After Wei Xiaobao left, Zhu Hao also departed his room for the Grand Secretariat. Upon arrival, he saw Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe pacing worriedly in his study. Zhu Hao strode forward and addressed him directly, “Lord Fang, are you troubled by the emperor’s intention to take this immortal medicine?”

Fang Congzhe was taken aback. He had never met Zhu Hao before, but hearing the youth refer to the emperor as ‘father’ revealed his identity. Cautious by nature, Fang still probed, “May I ask if you are the Fifth Prince?”

Zhu Hao had no intention of concealing his identity and nodded. “Grand Secretary Fang, your discernment is indeed keen—which explains my father’s deep trust in you! You are correct, I am Zhu Youjian.”

Once Zhu Hao confirmed it, Fang Congzhe had no further doubts. After all, no child but a prince could gain entry to the Grand Secretariat. Convinced, Fang knelt and bowed deeply. “Your servant, Fang Congzhe, Grand Secretary of the Secretariat, greets Your Highness the Fifth Prince. May I ask what brings Your Highness to the Secretariat today?”

Zhu Hao did not explain his true purpose at once—after all, they were not yet familiar, and a blunt approach would be too abrupt. With a genial air, he helped Fang up and said, “Grand Secretary, there’s no need for such ceremony. My father recently spoke of the royal hunting grounds and praised you for your upright counsel, which spared me from calamity. I am not one to forget a kindness, so I’ve come today to thank you for saving my life!” He bowed deeply to Fang, a gesture that exceeded all protocol for a prince toward a minister.

Fang Congzhe stepped aside to avoid the bow, saying, “Your Highness, I dare not accept such a grand gesture! What I did was out of loyalty to the state, nothing more. Your Highness need not thank me so.”

Zhu Hao inwardly sneered, “What nonsense about public service? I may not know why you spoke for me, but don’t think I’m ignorant of your dealings with that old woman, Consort Dowager Zheng! Hmph! If my father’s life weren’t hanging by a thread, I wouldn’t bother meeting a hypocrite like you.”

Although his heart was filled with disdain for Fang Congzhe, Zhu Hao’s face remained wreathed in smiles. “Your integrity is renowned, Grand Secretary, and today I find the praise fully justified. You are truly a pillar of our great Ming. The imperial family and the empire are both fortunate to have you. Though your actions were for the public good, you did indeed save me, and if I failed to thank you, I’d be showing poor upbringing.”

Fang Congzhe had heard much about the recently bold Fifth Prince. Witnessing Zhu Hao’s eloquence today, he was inwardly startled, regarding the prince with new eyes. He even entertained the thought that, should this youth ascend the throne, perhaps the Ming might truly be restored to glory. Quickly, he chided himself for such an improper notion, recalling that Zhu Hao was neither the eldest nor the heir apparent, and thus unlikely to inherit.

An old fox like Fang Congzhe did not believe Zhu Hao’s words of gratitude for a moment, but could not directly question his true purpose. Instead, he chose to give a gentle hint. “Your Highness, your kindness is appreciated, but the Secretariat is not a place for princes, and your presence here already strains protocol. If you linger, the court officials may speak ill, and the Emperor might be troubled by their remonstrations. I advise Your Highness to depart quickly, for your own sake.”

Hearing these words, Zhu Hao thought, “Fang Congzhe, you’re more formidable than I imagined—already issuing a guest’s dismissal so swiftly. I clearly underestimated you before!” His business here unfinished, Zhu Hao had no intention of leaving; it would be folly to risk censure for nothing.

With this in mind, he came straight to the point. His expression grew grave. “In truth, I have come not only to thank you for saving my life, Grand Secretary, but also to return the favor—today, I am here to save yours.”

Fang Congzhe was startled by these shocking words, though his face betrayed no alarm. Having long occupied high office, his composure was unshakable. Smiling, he replied, “Your Highness, I fear I do not understand. What crime have I committed that requires your intervention to save me?”

Zhu Hao thought to himself, “Still pretending, old fox? Let’s see if you can maintain your composure when I raise the stakes!”

With utmost seriousness, he declared, “Regicide.”

Even with all his years of self-mastery, Fang Congzhe could not help but stagger at this. The word seemed to weigh upon him like a mountain, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow as he gasped, “Your Highness, why do you say such things? You will frighten your humble servant to death! Such treasonous words—please, take them back, and let me pretend I never heard them.”

Zhu Hao watched his performance and thought, “You can’t tell me you’re not afraid now, old fox! How else can I make you listen to me?” Though he felt some guilt for frightening an old man, he pressed on without hesitation. “What is said cannot be unsaid, Grand Secretary. I stand by my words. Whether you choose to heed them is your affair, but I am not making empty threats. You are a clever man—you surely know what I mean.”

Fang Congzhe was secretly alarmed. “Could it be the Fifth Prince already knows the secret of the Red Pill? Impossible! The matter is so closely guarded, and Yingying would never reveal it. Moreover, this prince and Yingying have no connection—there’s no way he should know!” With this in mind, Fang cautiously asked, “What does Your Highness mean? Forgive me, I am confused; please enlighten me. I am all ears.”

Zhu Hao thought, “You really won’t give in till you see the coffin, will you? Fine, let’s speak plainly and see how you wriggle out of this!” With a plan in mind, he said directly, “My father has already ordered you to bring the immortal medicine into the palace—I know this. But you, a learned man, must be aware that tales of such elixirs have existed since ancient times, yet never has any dynasty’s official history recorded a true immortal drug. The very notion beggars belief. Now, by bringing this medicine into the palace, if anything should happen to my father after taking it, you will not escape the charge of regicide, Grand Secretary.”

As he spoke, the cold sweat that had just begun to dry on Fang Congzhe’s forehead reappeared in greater profusion. When he first met Zhu Hao, he had realized he had underestimated the prince, but now, hearing such words, the shock was beyond measure. Not only did Zhu Hao’s words carry open threats, but they also implied a profound understanding of palace intrigue—a mysterious influence that even a Grand Secretary could not help but fear.

In truth, Fang Congzhe was overthinking things. Zhu Hao’s knowledge came only from deploying all his available agents in the Palace of Heavenly Purity, giving him a grasp of recent events there—but hardly the means to monitor the entire palace. His intelligence apparatus was still in its infancy.

Even Zhu Hao himself was surprised by how much his words unsettled Fang Congzhe; it was an accidental stroke of genius.

After a long silence, Fang Congzhe finally took a deep breath and said, “This is the Emperor’s personal command. Whatever may come, it is not my doing. And Your Highness’s words are far too alarming. I have important matters to attend to and cannot accompany you further. Please, Your Highness, see yourself out.”

With this, Fang Congzhe once again issued his guest’s dismissal, turning away and making it clear he wished to converse no further.