Chapter Three: The Sun Family of Huichang Court

Chapter Three: The Sun Family, Lords of Huichang

The recently departed emperor was now referred to as the Late Emperor, and his coffin rested in the Hall of Heavenly Purity. As the Crown Prince, Zhu Qizhen was duty-bound to fulfill his obligations. In ancient times, filial piety was the cornerstone of governance; if the Son of Heaven lost his virtue, his subjects would lose their loyalty and morale. And the gravest failing for a ruler was none other than filial impiety.

Even if it was solely for appearances, Zhu Qizhen had to persevere. All the more so because, deep down, he harbored genuine fatherly affection for Emperor Xuanzong. Now, with dangers lurking on every side, he was determined to see his father’s funeral rites properly conducted rather than let infighting break out before the coffin, disturbing his father’s peace in the afterlife.

Inside the Hall of Heavenly Purity, the emperor’s body had already been dressed and placed in the coffin. The vast and empty hall was dominated by the presence of the casket, the emperor’s final resting place. Outside the palace, a sea of white mourning attire stretched as far as the eye could see. Within, aside from a few braziers in the corners and several eunuchs standing guard, there was only a seven-year-old boy before the coffin. As Zhu Qizhen entered, the child looked at him with tear-filled eyes and said, “Big Brother, you’re here.”

This was Zhu Qizhen’s only younger brother, Zhu Qiyu.

Looking at the boy, Zhu Qizhen felt a mix of emotions. If history were to unfold as it once had, there would be a saga of love and enmity between the two brothers. Yet he was confident things would not repeat themselves.

Seeing the worry and unease in Zhu Qiyu’s tearful gaze, Zhu Qizhen gently took his hand and said, “Don’t worry, everything will be all right with your big brother here.”

Emperor Xuanzong had two sons and three daughters, but women had no right to keep vigil. In truth, the emperor’s immediate family was scant; only his two sons knelt before the coffin. Listening to the wailing from outside, Zhu Qizhen knew that the civil and military officials, as well as the noblewomen, were required to come in groups to mourn. Yet, with the exception of a select few ministers, none were permitted into the Hall of Heavenly Purity; most wept at the gates.

The eunuchs directed the proceedings: when to cry, how many wails, when to withdraw, and in what manner. All this was accompanied by the somber music played by the court musicians, adding to Zhu Qizhen’s sorrow.

Zhu Qiyu, still too young to fully grasp the situation, only knew that their father now lay in the great box. He asked, “When will Father come out?”

Zhu Qizhen was at a loss for words.

Suddenly, from outside, he heard a eunuch announce, “The Vice Commissioner of the Five Military Garrisons, Lord of Huichang, comes to mourn.” This was followed by the heart-rending wail of an old man: “Your Majesty!” His cries were so mournful they seemed to rend the soul.

Zhu Qizhen’s brow flickered. He turned to Zhu Qiyu and said, “Stay here for a moment, I must go change my clothes.”

Zhu Qiyu said timidly, “Big Brother, come back soon. I’m a little scared.”

“All right,” Zhu Qizhen replied. “I’ll be back soon.”

Exiting through the rear door, Zhu Qizhen saw Wang Zhen waiting for him. As soon as he appeared, Wang Zhen hurriedly led him toward a side door, whispering, “Your Highness, to be brief: if Lord Huichang is absent too long, it will arouse suspicion.”

“I understand,” Zhu Qizhen replied.

Wang Zhen guided him into a small storage room and stood sentry outside as Zhu Qizhen entered. The cramped space was crowded with furniture—some of which Zhu Qizhen recognized from the Hall of Heavenly Purity. No doubt, some furnishings had been removed to make space for the mourning rites.

Inside, Sun Yu, Lord of Huichang, knelt as soon as he saw Zhu Qizhen. “Your servant pays his respects to Your Highness.”

Zhu Qizhen stepped forward and helped him up. “Please rise, Grandfather.”

Sun Yu quickly protested, “I do not dare.”

Zhu Qizhen observed that Sun Yu’s hair was nearly all white. He wore mourning garb over his official robes, his attire almost entirely white. Thin and frail, he nevertheless seemed in good health.

Truth be told, Zhu Qizhen was somewhat disappointed. What he needed now was a powerful maternal relative to support his claim to the throne, but the ancestral laws of the Ming dynasty dictated that empresses should come from commoner families. While not truly commoners, Sun Yu had been but a minor official in the Ministry of Works; how much influence could he possibly wield?

The Zhang family, the family of the Empress Dowager, was a rare exception in three hundred years of Ming history. The Sun family, like most, was the norm.

Nonetheless, Zhu Qizhen had no other choice. Though he knew Wang Zhen had surely gathered a few supporters in the palace in his name, he dared not trust them; their influence could not compare with the Empress Dowager Zhang’s decades of authority over the inner court.

The Sun family’s resources were meager, but they were the only straw within Zhu Qizhen’s grasp.

He helped Sun Yu to his feet. “In public, we must maintain the distinction of ruler and subject, but in private, such formality is unnecessary. My mother has only one son—today, Grandfather, I must beg your support.”

Though not particularly capable, Sun Yu had become a count by virtue of marriage, but he was no fool. When summoned in secret by the Crown Prince, he knew there was trouble. Hearing Zhu Qizhen’s words, his heart trembled. “The Empress Dowager has always governed with impartial justice. Though there are rumors of Prince Xiang’s golden edict circulating outside, they are mostly idle gossip. Your Highness need not worry.”

Zhu Qizhen’s gaze sharpened, but Sun Yu lowered his head, avoiding his eyes.

In that instant, Zhu Qizhen understood: Sun Yu did not want to get involved. Perhaps he felt that if Zhu Qizhen opposed the Empress Dowager, he had no chance of victory.

Zhu Qizhen smiled faintly. “Perhaps I am overthinking it. It’s late, you should return, Lord Huichang.”

“Your Highness,” Sun Yu knelt, his forehead touching the ground. “It is not that I am unwilling, but I have only a hundred or so household retainers, mere servants, nothing compared to the thousands kept by the great military families. Even if I wished to send men, I have none. May I offer Your Highness a word of advice?”

“Speak,” Zhu Qizhen said.

Sun Yu replied, “At present, all matters depend on the Empress Dowager. You must not circumvent her. She is, after all, your flesh and blood. Why not go and see her, and find solace at her knee?”

“I understand,” Zhu Qizhen responded.

Seeing Zhu Qizhen’s displeasure, Sun Yu gritted his teeth and added, “If Your Highness remains uneasy, I have five sons. I am willing to offer them to serve at your side.”

Hearing this, Zhu Qizhen realized Sun Yu truly had no alternative and was not merely standing aside. He sighed lightly. Not all of Sun Yu’s words were lies, but neither were they all true.

Clearly, relying on the Sun family’s household troops was futile.

Zhu Qizhen’s thoughts had been prompted by the historical precedent of the “Gate Incident,” when he himself had rallied the family troops of several military clans. In the capital, besides the Five Military Garrisons that managed the garrison forces, there were also private troops among the nobility. Though each family’s numbers were small, together they amounted to several thousand. Sometimes, a coup could be accomplished with just such a force.

But it seemed Lord Huichang’s family could not even match the minimum standard of the nobles of that era.

Most of the aristocrats of this time were still expected to be warriors.

Zhu Qizhen, already somewhat disappointed, now felt utterly so. “That won’t be necessary. When you return, do one thing for me.”

“Your Highness, please instruct me,” Sun Yu replied, sweat breaking out on his back.

“Keep an eye on the Pengcheng family,” Zhu Qizhen said. “I want to know of any unusual activity.”

Sun Yu gritted his teeth. “I understand.”

He knew this was a task he could not refuse. If he failed, he would greatly offend his grandson.

Despite the rumors swirling outside, Sun Yu still believed his grandson was likely to become the master of the Ming Empire. The reason was simple: Prince Xiang was not in the capital, and the news had already leaked.

Emperor Xuanzong had reigned for ten years and was well regarded both in the military and the ministries; he still had many loyalists. If the Empress Dowager Zhang acted swiftly and decisively, no one could stop her. But since the plan had leaked before it was executed, it was likely to fail. At the very least, in the Grand Secretariat, Yang Rong would defend the late emperor’s heir with his life.

For not only was he one of the five grand regents, he was also the one most trusted by Emperor Xuanzong.

The five regents—Zhang Fu, Yang Shiqi, Yang Pu, Yang Rong, and Hu Ying—were all veteran ministers, but none had a closer relationship with the late emperor than Yang Rong. If the heir did not ascend, the others might acquiesce, but Yang Rong would never rest until he had pleaded in vain for retirement.