Da Ming: I told you to die for your cause, why are you actually going to die?

Chapter 34 The Throne Belongs to the Zhu Family! [Seeking Monthly Tickets]

To the east of Xiaoling Mausoleum, the newly built Ming Eastern Mausoleum appears particularly solemn and desolate in the late autumn twilight.

The afterglow of the setting sun gilded the cold stone statue with an illusory golden edge, but it could not dispel the loneliness and desolation that ran deep in its bones.

Zhu dismissed all his entourage, even ordering Jiang Huan to remain at the entrance to the mausoleum a hundred paces away.

Alone, with his back hunched, he stepped up the cold stone steps toward the newly erected, enormous tombstone.

His plain hempen robe, clad in deep mourning, fluttered in the evening breeze, adding to his desolate air.

In his hand, he tightly clutched a small coarse cloth bundle containing several still-warm sesame candy cakes that he had personally taken from the imperial kitchen—Zhu Biao's favorite treat when he was a child.

Finally, he stood still in front of the tombstone.

The large characters on the cold stone tablet, "Tomb of Zhu Biao, Crown Prince Yiwen of the Great Ming Dynasty," stung his eyes.

He reached out, his withered, age-spotted fingers trembling as he stroked the cold stone carving again and again, as if he could touch his son's warm skin.

"Biao'er, Daddy's here to see you."

His voice was dry and hoarse, and it was blown away by the wind as soon as he spoke.

He slowly sat down against the cold tombstone, like an exhausted old farmer sitting on the edge of his own field.

He carefully placed the bag of sesame candy in front of the tombstone, his movements as gentle as if he were afraid of waking a sleeping child.

"A scoundrel has appeared in the court these past two days."

Old Zhu spoke, his voice low, as if afraid of disturbing the peace here, or as if he had too many things to say and had finally found someone to confide in.

His cloudy old eyes stared at the tombstone, as if his son were sitting opposite him, listening quietly.

"He's a minor censor named Zhang Biao."

Old Zhu's lips twitched, a mixture of laughter and tears in his eyes: "You've got guts bigger than the sky!"

He began to ramble on, speaking slowly, with a sense of utter exhaustion, bewilderment, and frustration:
"He was settling accounts with his father in the Fengtian Hall! He was calculating his meager salary! Ninety shi of grain, after all the deductions, he knew exactly how much rice, rent, firewood, and so on he actually received!"

"Even the story of the censor next door, surnamed Shen, who pawned his ancestral jade pendant for three hundred coins to buy half a pig's head to nourish his mother and children, has been exposed!"

Old Zhu's voice was filled with a sense of absurdity and a feeling of being cornered:
"What kind of situation hasn't I seen in my life? But to be blocked on the dragon throne by a mere censor whose stomach is growling with hunger, demanding wages owed for more than seven months. This is truly the first time I've ever been like this!"

He picked up a sesame candy cake and unconsciously broke it apart, crumbs falling in a flurry.
"He even asked his father for noodles! He said he was too hungry to roll around! He was afraid he would faint on the palace road and soil the gold bricks! What could his father do? He couldn't just let him starve to death at the entrance of the Fengtian Hall, could he? That would be even more shameful!"

Father asked Yunming to go to the imperial kitchen and make him a bowl of clear soup noodles. After watching him slurp it all up, he asked him if he had finished eating.
He said he wanted to have some more soup!

Damn it! Ugh—"

Old Zhu was so angry he wanted to curse, but finally sighed helplessly and said, "Then Father also took out fifty taels of silver out of his own pocket. Forty taels were for him, Jiang Huan, and the Imperial Censor Shen who pawned the jade pendant to make up for his back pay. Ten taels were for Shen Lang to redeem the jade pendant and buy three pig heads."

When he mentioned "three pig heads," Old Zhu's voice choked, filled with an indescribable sense of shame and indignation:

"What a disgrace, Biao'er! This scoundrel has completely disgraced our Zhu family! The censor is so poor he's practically selling his pants! And he still made his father pay for a pig's head! If word gets out, what will future generations say about his father? That he's mean and ungrateful? That he's dirt poor?"

He sighed heavily: "Father was so angry that he wanted to chop him up on the spot! But that bastard, though he looks simple-minded, is very shrewd! He figured that Father couldn't kill him! If he did, it would confirm that the court mistreated its officials and that Father was cruel and ungrateful! If he didn't kill him, he would have to swallow his pride and accept the consequences! It's so frustrating! So frustrating!"

Old Zhu fell silent, only forcefully breaking the already broken sesame candy cake.

As dusk deepened, a chill seeped into the bones.

After a long while, he raised his head again, his eyes becoming complicated and distant, and his voice lowered: "However, Biao'er, that bastard said something that, by sheer accident, hit the nail on the head and struck a chord with your father." He paused, a sharp glint flashing in his cloudy eyes, which was then covered by a deeper weariness: "He said, 'The innocence of a loyal minister cannot save the Ming Dynasty.' The words may be rough, but the reasoning is sound."

His fingers traced lines on the ground unconsciously, as if sketching an invisible, perilous map:

"The Ministry of Revenue is rotten. Its coffers are empty; it can't even pay the censors their meager allowances. Who knows how much worse things are below it! And the princes..."

Old Zhu's voice suddenly became hoarse, filled with immense hidden pain: "Your second brother, third brother, and fourth brother... they've all returned. They all look so respectful, but your father knows perfectly well that every one of them wants to sit on the dragon throne."

He clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles cracking softly, and his eyes turned fierce.

"Father enfeoffed them with titles and honors, intending for them to safeguard this empire for you and your son! But people's hearts can change! While Father is alive, they dare not act. But what if Father is gone? Will they willingly submit to your son?"

Zhang Biao was right! What Father planted with his own hands was the foundation for protection, but it could also be the seed of future fratricide!

Old Zhu closed his eyes in pain, as if he couldn't bear to imagine the horrific scene.

After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze returning to the tombstone. His eyes were filled with struggle and pain, which ultimately transformed into an almost obsessive determination:

"So, Biao'er's father wants to discuss something with you."

His voice was soft, almost pleading, as if his son could truly hear him: "The position of heir apparent... cannot remain undecided any longer. People are restless, everyone is watching, and if we wait any longer, something bad might happen."

He took a deep breath, the icy air stinging his lungs, but his tone was resolute and unquestionable: "Father wants to establish Yunwen."

Upon hearing this name, Old Zhu felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted, yet also as if he had been burdened with an even heavier shackle.

He looked at the tombstone, explaining urgently, more like trying to convince himself:
"Yunwen, he is your son! He is your own flesh and blood! He is like you! He is kind and filial! He is also good at studying! His filial piety in taking care of you at your sickbed without taking off his clothes was seen by your father! Although he is a bit soft-hearted and easily indecisive in the face of problems, he is still young!"

"Father can teach him! Father still has time! He can train him to be a qualified ruler!"

Old Zhu spoke faster and faster, his eyes growing brighter and brighter, as if he had grasped the only piece of driftwood in the darkness:
“Your second brother is too violent! He's already causing trouble in his fiefdom, his reputation is ruined! Letting him take the throne would be a disaster for the country! Your third brother is too shrewd! He's too calculating! I'm afraid he won't be able to tolerate his brothers in the future! Your fourth brother…”

Mentioning this name, Old Zhu frowned deeply, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "He's capable! He's bold! Just like your father when he was young! But... just too much like him! I'm afraid he's too ambitious! If he rises to power, do you think your other brothers, and Yunwen and Yunhu, will have a good ending?"

He shook his head violently, as if trying to shake off those terrible thoughts, pressing his hands tightly against the cold tombstone, as if drawing strength and resolve from it:
"No! None of them! Only Yunwen! Only your son! Biao'er! Only by establishing Yunwen can we extinguish the hopes of your brothers! Only then can we preserve your bloodline! Only then can the throne remain in our hands!"

Old Zhu's voice suddenly rose, carrying an almost insane obsession and an unquestionable domineering tone, echoing before the empty and desolate mausoleum:
"The throne! We fought for it! It belongs to the Zhu family!"

"It belongs to you, Zhu Biao! It belongs to your lineage!"

"I promised you! This empire will be yours someday! I'm sorry I didn't let you sit on it!"

"But I assure you! This dragon throne will definitely belong to your son in the future! It will be a descendant with your Zhu Biao bloodline who sits on it!"

"No one can take it away! As long as I live, I'll watch over you every day! Even when I die and go to the underworld, I'll still keep watch over you!"

He was panting, his chest heaving violently, and finally, he couldn't hold back his turbid tears.

"Biao'er, your father is leaving now. Next time I come, you will see the Crown Prince of my Great Ming Dynasty!"

After saying this, Old Zhu slowly stood up.

All around was quiet, except for the evening breeze that ruffled his disheveled gray hair and the low murmur of the pine trees.

　Please give me a monthly ticket, please give me a monthly ticket! ! ! !

　　
　
(End of this chapter)