Chapter Twelve: To Act at the Sight of Injustice Is Not True Courage

Chapter Twelve: To See Injustice and Do Nothing Is Not Courage

Wang Zhen struggled to soothe Lady Sun. Only then was Zhu Qizhen able to leave the Palace of Earthly Tranquility.

A sense of loss lingered within Zhu Qizhen. In his nine-year-old memories, Lady Sun had always been a figure of warmth and kindness. Yet, more often than not, children view their parents through rose-colored lenses.

Every child believes their parents to be the best; though Zhu Qizhen retained his childhood recollections, he was by no means a child any longer. In the heart of a young boy, Grand Empress Dowager Zhang had always been stern, while Empress Dowager Sun was the very embodiment of gentleness.

But now, with the perspective of later years, he saw how starkly different the two women truly were. This dissonance left Zhu Qizhen ill at ease, especially since Lady Sun treated him as a child, preferring Wang Zhen’s counsel over his own.

Upon leaving the Palace of Earthly Tranquility, Zhu Qizhen made his way west without delay.

Wang Zhen followed closely, speaking in a hushed tone behind him, “Your Majesty, it is time to return.”

Zhu Qizhen replied, “To the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility. I must see the Grand Empress Dowager.”

Wang Zhen understood at once. Given Lady Sun’s outlandish words today, it would be unwise not to explain matters at the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility; the days ahead could become difficult. The Grand Empress Dowager would not act rashly against the emperor himself, but to deal with a servant would be a trifling matter.

He immediately summoned a sedan chair.

Though Zhu Qizhen had intended to walk, his body remained frail. Today, he had gone from the Palace of Heavenly Purity to the Palace of Earthly Tranquility and now to the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility—a considerable distance. His resolve might have endured, but his body could not.

By the time he arrived, palace lanterns were already being lit.

A woman guided Zhu Qizhen inside. Upon seeing her, he immediately offered a respectful bow. She stepped aside, demurring, “I do not dare.”

This woman was Lady Hu, first empress of Emperor Xuanzong, later known as the Immortal Consort, and, since Zhu Qizhen’s enthronement, honored as Imperial Noble Consort Dowager. Perhaps out of compensation and affection, the Grand Empress Dowager had kept Lady Hu by her side.

Zhu Qizhen could not help but acknowledge that every gesture of Lady Hu exuded a serene elegance. Compared to Lady Sun, Lady Hu was no less dignified; her conduct was above reproach. Thus, even after her deposition, in the Grand Empress Dowager’s heart, Lady Hu remained her true daughter-in-law.

Lady Sun was not.

Lady Hu led Zhu Qizhen inside, paid her respects to the Grand Empress Dowager, and then quietly withdrew.

The Grand Empress Dowager had changed out of her regal attire into a simple skirt and blouse. Her hair, streaked with gray, was pinned up, and in the lamplight, the wrinkles on her face seemed to soften.

Were it not for her status, she might have been mistaken for an ordinary woman from the south.

The Grand Empress Dowager considered keeping Lady Hu present, but after some thought, realized such matters would be of no use to her. Thus, she let her leave.

“Grandson greets Grandmother,” Zhu Qizhen said respectfully. He knew that feigning childishness might have worked in the past, but he was no longer the boy he once was. Some things could not be faked.

“Sit,” the Grand Empress Dowager said. “Tell me, how do you plan to arrange a position for Lord Weichang? Speak, and I will see if I can grant it.”

Zhu Qizhen replied at once, “I dare not, Grandmother. My mother was simply overwrought and spoke nonsense; I beg you not to take it to heart.”

The Grand Empress Dowager sighed. “She has always thought herself clever, unable to distinguish gravity from levity. Likes to show off her little tricks. As a child, she seemed so bright—how did she come to this?”

Empress Dowager Sun’s so-called cleverness was not limited to today. The best example had been her handling of the aftermath of the Tumu Crisis. If she had truly been capable, she should have enthroned the then Crown Prince—the legitimate son of the emperor—and ruled as regent, handling affairs of state.

But since she could not, she should have simply placed Zhu Qiyu on the throne, instead of leaving the legitimate son as Crown Prince.

In so doing, she sowed the seeds of later calamities—the Gate Incident, the death of Yu Qian—all were the consequences of her supposed cleverness.

Even now, everyone knew what the Sun family was worth. To entrust the nation’s affairs to them—could they truly manage?

Listening to the Grand Empress Dowager speak of his mother, Zhu Qizhen could only remain silent.

The Grand Empress Dowager seemed to realize that such talk was unseemly before a junior, and so she composed herself and said, “You are the emperor now. The road ahead is yours to walk. Remember the ancestral law: the inner palace must not meddle in state affairs. This realm belongs to the Zhu family; whether Zhang or Sun, all others are outsiders.”

“I understand, Grandmother,” Zhu Qizhen answered.

“Go, then. I will not hold Lady Sun’s words against her,” she continued. “But you must know: filial piety is one thing; affairs of state, another. Never must the two be confused.”

“I understand,” Zhu Qizhen replied.

The Grand Empress Dowager found herself increasingly pleased with Zhu Qizhen, and in her heart, blamed Lady Sun: had she not kept him from her, she could have guided him earlier and avoided such ill-preparedness.

As the saying goes, an emperor loves his eldest son, while commoners love the youngest. In the imperial clan, what is prized is a youth with the bearing of an elder.

Zhu Qizhen’s conduct was precisely that. Over these days, staying by the Grand Empress Dowager’s side, he had grown more familiar with governance, and she cherished him all the more.

At this rate, Zhu Qizhen would be fit to shoulder the burdens of the realm in a few years. She regarded him as the apple of her eye, and seeing him stand before her as if with something to say, she inquired, “Is there anything else?”

“Grandmother,” Zhu Qizhen said, “I have heard that concubines without sons in the palace may be buried with the late emperor. Is this true?”

The Grand Empress Dowager started and replied, “It is. Your mother, Lady Hu, and Lady Wu—Zhu Qiyu’s mother—are excepted. All other childless concubines are to follow your father in death.”

At this, Zhu Qizhen knelt again. “Before you, Grandmother, I have often heard you speak of benevolence. For the emperor’s tomb, you conscripted a hundred thousand laborers, always fearing their mistreatment. Now, if innocents are to die, how can I, with your compassion as my guide, turn a blind eye? I wish—”

“What is it you wish?” the Grand Empress Dowager asked.

“I hope Grandmother will abolish the custom of burying the living with the dead,” Zhu Qizhen said.

The Grand Empress Dowager changed the subject. “Today, you went to see Jian Yi. Did you see him one last time?”

“I did.”

“What did Lord Jian say to you before his passing?”

“He told me to do nothing, but to be a filial grandson before you.”

When Zhu Qizhen spoke with Jian Yi, though he dismissed the attendants, he dared not hide anything from the Grand Empress Dowager. First, she certainly had her own agents about him—who could say who they were? Even Wang Zhen might be in her service. Second, Jian Yi’s advice was perhaps extreme, but largely correct: to be a filial grandson, one must not keep secrets from the Grand Empress Dowager. Third, there was nothing in Jian Yi’s words that could not be spoken openly.

The Grand Empress Dowager’s face was calm, her features impassive in the lamplight. “Why do you not do as he says?”

“Do you realize what you are trying to change? It is the ancestral system. It was set by the founding emperor, and none of his successors dared defy it, for fear that disorder in the inner palace would shame the ancestors. Now, before you have found your footing, you wish to change the ancestral law. Do you fear the censure of court and country?”

Her words came one after another, and for a moment, Zhu Qizhen did not know how to respond.

Indeed, the situation now was as Jian Yi had advised: Zhu Qizhen’s best course was to do nothing. He should not oppose the ancestral system; he should quietly build his reputation, study diligently, and behave obediently. In a few years, when the Grand Empress Dowager was gone, even the three Yangs would not last long. Then, what could stand in his way?

Yet, he could not bear the thought of innocent lives taken by the ancestral law. The late emperor’s favored consorts and maids—there must be at least a hundred of them. He alone could save them now.

“Because to see injustice and do nothing is not courage,” Zhu Qizhen replied. Though his voice was youthful, his words rang with conviction.