Chapter Nineteen: The Empress Falls Gravely Ill

At this moment, Li Jinzhong entered and quietly informed him, “The Empress is gravely ill, and the Crown Prince has summoned the Imperial Grandson to visit her.”

He hurried to the entrance of the Eastern Palace, where the Crown Prince was already waiting. Without exchanging many words, they proceeded together to the Empress’s chambers. After the eunuchs announced their arrival, they were led inside. The Empress lay on her bed, pallid, her gaze fixed upon the canopy above, while Wanli sat beside her chair, keeping her company.

Hearing their approach, the Empress turned her head, her face lighting up with joy. “My dear grandson, come here,” she called. Zhu Xiaoqi stepped forward, first paying his respects to Wanli, then kneeling at the Empress’s bedside. Grasping her hand, tears began to fall from his eyes. “Grandmother, what has happened to you?” He was well aware of who truly cared for him; the Empress’s kindness had never been tainted by ulterior motives, and so he held genuine affection for her.

The Empress stroked his head with her other hand, smiling softly. “Poor child, don’t cry. Your imperial grandmother is well. Hearing you call me ‘Grandmother’ today fills my heart with joy.” Normally, he would address her as ‘Imperial Grandmother,’ but today, in a moment of true feeling, he called her ‘Grandmother.’ The Empress took no offense; instead, she was deeply comforted. True affection was a rare thing in the royal family, and seeing Zhu Xiaoqi’s sincerity, the Empress felt assured she had not misplaced her trust in this grandson.

Turning to Wanli, the Empress said, “Your Majesty, I have enjoyed honor and wealth all my life. As I prepare to depart, my only worries are my grandson and my daughter. I hope Your Majesty will care for them.”

Tears streaming down his face, Wanli replied, “Empress, do not let your thoughts run wild. The imperial physicians have said you will recover soon.” He did have feelings for the Empress. Though he had long favored Noble Consort Zheng, they had been husband and wife for decades, and she had always managed the harem with order, never making any demands. He had always respected and cherished her—though respect outweighed love, it was still considerable. Now that the Empress made such a request, he naturally would not refuse her. “Convey my decree: summon Princess Rongchang and her son to the Empress’s chambers at once.”

Soon, Princess Rongchang arrived, having just received the message. Her son remained at home, but someone had already been sent to fetch him. The princess rushed to her mother’s side as soon as she entered. Zhu Xiaoqi stepped aside, gently placing the Empress’s hand into her daughter’s and addressing her as “Aunt.”

Princess Rongchang ignored him, overcome with grief at the sight of her mother. She opened her mouth, nearly bursting into tears, but Zhu Xiaoqi, seeing this, squeezed her hand lightly. She came to her senses and gave her nephew a look of apology.

The Empress saw this and smiled, taking Zhu Xiaoqi’s hand and placing it atop Rongchang’s. “You are both grown, yet neither is as steady as a child. In the future, you two—brother and sister, aunt and nephew—must stay close; a family is, after all, a family.” The Crown Prince quickly nodded in agreement, and Rongchang, choking with emotion, replied, “I shall obey your command, Mother. I will.” The Empress looked to Zhu Xiaoqi, who met her gaze and said, “I will not allow anyone to bully Aunt.” The Empress nodded slightly. “Good child, you are a good child.”

The imperial physician bowed to Wanli, who said, “Everyone withdraw for now, and do not disturb the Empress’s rest.” The group withdrew. The Crown Prince returned to the Eastern Palace on business, while Zhu Xiaoqi and Rongchang waited outside.

At this moment, Rongchang’s sons arrived: five boys, named Yang Guangkui, Yang Guanggou, Yang Guangdan, Yang Guangyi, and Yang Guanglong. The eldest, Yang Guangkui, was just over twenty; the youngest, Yang Guanglong, was only five. Rongchang introduced each of them to Zhu Xiaoqi, who greeted his cousins one by one with proper formalities.

After the courtesies, Zhu Xiaoqi asked, “Cousin, what official post do you currently hold?” Yang Guangkui replied, “Through hereditary privilege, I serve nominally as Commander-in-Chief of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.” Zhu Xiaoqi understood this was merely a titular position with no real power, and asked further, “May I know, Cousin, where your interests truly lie?”

“A man’s ambition knows no bounds,” Yang Guangkui answered quietly, glancing at his mother. “I wish only to fight on the battlefield and slay the enemy, but my mother fears for my safety and will not allow me to pursue my aspirations.”

Unexpectedly, Princess Rongchang overheard. “Just look at you—do you seem like someone who can charge into battle?” Yang Guangkui was rather thin, hardly a figure of martial strength.

Flushing, Yang Guangkui insisted, “I can eat more, grow stronger, practice martial arts. Then, Mother, will you let me go to war?”

Of course, Princess Rongchang did not want her son to risk his life in battle. Her husband had died young, and Yang Guangkui, as her eldest, took after his father—compassionate, unable even to bear the slaughter of cattle. Such a temperament was ill-suited to the battlefield. Yet Yang Guangkui yearned for martial achievement, leaving her troubled and at a loss.

“Guangkui, I know you wish to make your mark in war, but you are too soft-hearted. You cannot bear the sight of slaughtering livestock; on the battlefield, could you truly kill a man?”

“I pity animals only because they are innocent. The Jurchens slaughter our people and seize our cities—less than beasts. Killing them would be no different from killing a chicken.”

Zhu Xiaoqi clapped his hands in praise. “Well said, Cousin. Since you have such ambition, I have an idea. Earning merit in battle is one way, but if you could train an elite force, even without fighting yourself, would that not also count as military achievement? I too wish to fight the Jurchens, but have no way to go to war. So I want to learn how to train soldiers, but my abilities are limited; I am not skilled in military affairs. If you could help me, together we could build a powerful army and defeat the Jurchens. Would that not be a great accomplishment?”

Princess Rongchang was overjoyed. This was an excellent solution: no need to go to war, no risk to her son’s life, yet it would fulfill his wish. Her nephew was truly quick-witted. Yang Guangkui, knowing his mother would not let him fight, was satisfied with his cousin’s proposal. “I have studied the military classics and have some experience in training troops. If I can assist the Imperial Grandson, it would be my honor.”

After a simple supper, everyone continued to keep watch outside the Empress’s chambers. Zhu Xiaoqi and Yang Guangkui discussed military training methods. Yang Guangkui had read the “New Treatise on Military Efficiency” and held it in high regard; finding common ground, their discussion grew animated, though they kept their voices low out of respect for the ailing Empress. Soon, the second son, Yang Guanggou, joined them. Zhu Xiaoqi was pleasantly surprised to find that this cousin, two years his senior, was also well-versed in the “New Treatise,” and in conversation revealed many original insights—such as the mixed deployment of arquebusiers and spearmen, the coordination between field artillery and infantry, and other novel ideas. Though not all were necessarily correct, Zhu Xiaoqi believed they could achieve impressive results. It seemed noble-born youths were not all idlers after all. These two could be of great use in the future, and, being his cousins, their loyalty would be beyond question.