For the past few days, the officials in the capital had been suffering in silence. Every day at the morning court, the Emperor would launch into a speech praising the Chen family’s charitable acts. He went on and on about how kind and righteous the Chen family was, implying that aside from the Chens, none of the officials were good people. Of course, no one who becomes an official is a fool; the Emperor’s meaning was self-evident. However, no one wanted to be the first to step forward and donate relief silver.
The Emperor’s face grew grimmer by the day. He had already severely scolded several officials, and two lower-ranking ones had even been beaten with boards. Finally, after the Crown Prince personally donated sixty thousand taels of silver and Princes Yong and Kang followed suit with fifty thousand each, the officials were forced to grit their teeth and pull out their money.
Thus, within a few days, hundreds of thousands of taels of silver were raised. Combined with the Chen family’s gold, the disaster relief funding was solved, with plenty to spare.
The officials had been forced to part with their wealth. They didn’t dare offend the Emperor, so the Chen family became the target of their collective ire. After all, Master Chen had shown off by being the first to donate. Having nowhere else to vent their frustration, they took it out on the Chen family.
Officials who were previously on good terms with Master Chen lost their warmth, even mocking him to his face, saying the Chen family was the most “righteous family” under heaven and that no other clan could compare—so whenever the court needed money in the future, the Chens would surely donate the most.
One couldn’t really blame the officials for their resentment. Even though everyone had donated, only the Chen family received an imperial decree of praise, making everyone else look like mere background characters. The culprit who caused them to lose their money was the Chen family; they would have to be saints not to hold a grudge.
Master Chen was helpless in the face of the cold words. He truly hadn’t wanted to donate that gold; it was a trap set by the Emperor, using the Chen family as a “shill” and giving them a high reputation just to squeeze relief silver out of the officials.
But whether it was the Emperor using them or the cold mockery of the crowd, Master Chen accepted it all—as long as his son was released. Yet, despite sending out fifty thousand taels of gold, it hadn’t made a bit of difference. His son was still squatting in the prison. Facing the expectant eyes of his mother and wife, he was afraid to even go home. To whom could he complain? His suffering was beyond words.
…
With the disaster relief funds secured, Emperor Mingzheng was in high spirits. He went to the Kunning Palace and laughed loudly. “Ru’er, the two sons you birthed for me are truly to my heart’s liking! If it weren’t for Aze blundering into this and the Crown Prince reacting so quickly, this relief silver wouldn’t have been solved so easily. Those officials, humph!” Every last one of them is selfish.
The Empress was naturally happy to hear her sons praised. She said with a smile, “Princes Yong and Kang are also good children. Each of them donated fifty thousand taels; they’ve put in a great effort. I imagine their households must be short on silver now. I’ll send them some rewards later so they don’t run out of spending money; after all, they are Princes of the realm.”
Emperor Mingzheng snorted. “How could they be short on silver? As soon as the Crown Prince donated sixty thousand taels, Consort Li privately gave Prince Kang fifty thousand in silver notes. Prince Yong’s fifty thousand was given to him by the Marquis of Xuanping. They didn’t spend a single copper of their own. Humph, when I ask them to pay, they’re all unwilling. It seems in their eyes, my words aren’t as important as those of Yong and Kang…”
The Empress found it amusing; the Emperor was still angry over the officials’ refusal to take the initiative a few days ago.
The Emperor added, “Only the Crown Prince and Aze’s private funds come from us. I know exactly how much they have. Aze has the gold from the Chen family, so no worries there. As for the Crown Prince, I will supplement him personally; there’s no need to use your own private funds.”
The Empress stood and bowed, smiling. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for being so considerate of me.”
Emperor Mingzheng helped her sit. “We are husband and wife; no need for such formalities.”
The Empress sat and said, “The second son of the Chen family has been in prison for half a month. Though he offended Aze, he did indirectly help Your Majesty. He hasn’t committed any major crime; why not release him?”
The Emperor hadn’t intended to keep Chen Junxiong locked up forever. He had been too busy with disaster relief to care about the boy, and since the officials hated the Chen family, no one had pleaded for him, so he’d simply been forgotten. He looked at Hu Deyang and said, “Give him twenty strokes and throw him out.”
“Yes!”
Hu Deyang’s lip twitched slightly. He realized just how much the Emperor disliked Chen Junxiong. The boy had indirectly helped solve the relief fund, yet after being locked up for half a month, he still had to take twenty strokes. But as long as his Master was happy, the servant was happy. Chen Junxiong had provoked Prince Chun; being beaten was his own fault.
The Empress didn’t plead for him either. She loathed Chen Junxiong even more than the Emperor did. Twenty strokes would serve as a lesson, letting him know that the capital didn’t belong to his family and that he couldn’t just say whatever he pleased.
…
On the ninth day of the eighth month, it was Emperor Mingzheng’s birthday. It wasn’t a milestone year, and since a natural disaster had just passed, he didn’t want a lavish celebration. The Empress hosted a banquet in the Kunning Palace for the imperial concubines and the Emperor’s children and grandchildren.
The Empress raised her glass to the Emperor and said sincerely, “I wish Your Majesty health and longevity, and may the nation’s fortunes prosper!”
“Only the Empress truly knows my heart!”
Health, longevity, and national prosperity! The Empress’s blessing hit the mark. The Emperor looked at her with great satisfaction and drained his glass in high spirits.
The harmony between the Emperor and Empress stung the eyes of the concubines below. With the Empress there, even the young and beautiful ones were invisible to the Emperor.
Consort Li clenched her fingers and said with a smile, “Your Majesty, I could find no treasure rare enough, so I personally hand-copied Buddhist scriptures and offered them before the Buddha for eighty-one days, hoping to ensure that everything goes smoothly for Your Majesty.”
“Consort Li is very thoughtful,” Emperor Mingzheng said with a smile. “Bring them here.”
Consort Li beamed and personally presented the scriptures. The Emperor flipped through a few pages and praised, “Your calligraphy is getting better and better.”
Consort Li smiled proudly. “To earn a word of praise from Your Majesty makes all the hard work I’ve put into practicing my writing since I was a child worth it.”
The Emperor gave her a playful look, the smile in his eyes fading slightly as he closed the scriptures and set them on the table.
Han Ze keenly spotted the coldness in the Emperor’s gaze. He arched an eyebrow and asked loudly, “Dad, can those scriptures really make sure everything goes smoothly for you?”
Consort Li returned to her seat. Hearing Han Ze’s words, the flash of sharpness in her eyes was hidden behind her lowered lids. Prince Yong’s heart tightened. What is Prince Chun trying to do now?
Emperor Mingzheng’s smile turned meaningful. He looked at Han Ze and asked, “Why do you ask that?”
Whether scriptures could make things go smoothly, he didn’t know. But he knew Consort Li gave him scriptures every year. Since she did, she must believe it—or at least, she wanted him to believe it.
Han Ze frowned. “The year our village flooded and the crops were drowned, the villagers all went to burn incense and pray to the Buddha for protection. But it was useless; the crops still died. At harvest time, there was nothing. Grandma said the Buddha is very busy; there are so many people in the world, He doesn’t have time to look into every little thing.”
The Emperor burst into laughter. “Your Grandma was right. Even the Buddha cannot look into every single person among the masses.”
The smile on Consort Li’s face could no longer be maintained. She said, “Your Majesty, sincerity brings results. I sincerely pray for Your Majesty every day. One day, the Buddha will be moved and will protect you.”
The Emperor’s lips curled. Even if things went smoothly, it wasn’t necessarily because of the Buddha. He had become the ruler of the world because he and his subordinates had fought for it bit by bit, not by relying on prayer.
Han Ze widened his eyes. “Then how much sincerity is enough to move the Buddha?”
The Emperor looked at Consort Li, his smile deepening. “Since you are so thoughtful, from now on, spend every day transcribing scriptures before the Buddha. Perhaps the Buddha will see your heart.”
Transcribing scriptures every day? Consort Li’s face turned so ugly she nearly cried. She hated Han Ze to death. Giving scriptures was always the safest gift—not flashy enough to attract envy. She had given them every year, and the Emperor had never been dissatisfied. This year, Prince Chun appeared, and truly, he had to interfere in everything.
Han Ze added, “Then if things don’t go smoothly for Dad, wouldn’t that mean your heart isn’t sincere enough?”
Prince Yong’s face changed drastically. “Third Brother, don’t talk nonsense!”
Consort Li’s face was like still water, and she looked at the Emperor as if on the verge of tears. “Your Majesty is wise; I am not insincere.”
Han Ze tilted his head. “Sigh, no wonder people always call me a fool. I’ve thought for a long time but I still don’t understand. If things go smoothly for Dad, is it because Mother Li prays every day? Or is it because Dad is wise and makes things go well himself?”
Consort Li’s face turned white. Sweat broke out on Prince Yong’s forehead.
Han Ze didn’t stop. “If it’s because Mother Li prays, does that mean Dad isn’t wise and things wouldn’t go well otherwise? If Dad is the Son of Heaven and Heaven already protects him, why does Mother Li need to pray at all?”
Consort Li clutched her handkerchief and said hurriedly, “His Majesty is the Son of Heaven; Heaven naturally protects him. It has nothing to do with praying or transcribing scriptures.”
Even if it killed her, she wouldn’t dare admit the Emperor wasn’t wise.
Han Ze asked curiously, “Since Dad is protected by Heaven and is already wise, so the world follows him, why does Mother Li still need to give him scriptures?”
The gritted-teeth Consort Li: “…”
The Empress glared at Han Ze. “Just eat your meal. What nonsense are you talking?”
The Emperor laughed. “Alright, Aze is just speaking the truth. Of course, Consort Li has good intentions, even if those intentions might be useless. Aze, stop being curious.”
With one sentence, he dismissed Consort Li’s gift as a useless effort.
Consort Li’s expression was terrible, but she couldn’t say anything; she couldn’t argue with a fool. Others were secretly gloating, enjoying the show.
Prince Yong, however, shot Han Ze a dark look. Just you wait.
Han Ze looked at him blankly. Why are you glaring at me?
Prince Yong glared again. I’ll deal with you sooner or later.
Han Ze glared back, then looked unhappily at the Emperor. “Dad, Prince Yong is glaring at me!”
Prince Yong: “…” Fool, go die! You’re this old and you’re still tattling!
Emperor Mingzheng looked at Prince Yong. Seeing his face fuming with rage, he somehow felt a bit of sympathy. Of all people to provoke, why choose Aze? He said, “Prince Yong, why are you glaring at Prince Chun?”
Prince Yong’s face was ugly as he argued, “Imperial Father, Prince Chun saw incorrectly.”
Han Ze snorted. “I did not see incorrectly!”
Prince Yong: “…”
The Emperor laughed. “In that case, apologize to Prince Chun! It’s no big deal; you are brothers and should get along harmoniously.”
Prince Yong gritted his teeth. “Yes, Imperial Father!”
Author’s Note:
Han Ze: Please call me the Tattle-Tale King, thank you!
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152