The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

"How has Shaoting been these past two days?" Yan Song's voice suddenly softened, carrying the tender concern that an old man has for his grandchildren.

The butler hurriedly replied, "Reporting to the old master, the young master is doing very well. He's quite lively and energetic. I just went to see him; he just woke up and is full of energy, making a ruckus right now."

Upon hearing this, Yan Song's face, etched with wrinkles from illness and political maneuvering, slowly broke into a pure and loving smile.

Throughout his life, he only spent his remaining years with his first wife, with whom he had a son and a daughter. His daughter married Yuan Yingshu, the Vice Commissioner of the Guangxi Provincial Surveillance Commission, in her early years, and they rarely saw each other.

Only Yan Shifan stayed by his side, but this son, although he had many wives and concubines, was not good at having children. So far, he had only given birth to Yan Shaoting, a son who was just over two years old this year.

That tiny child almost embodied all of Yan Song's hopes and tenderness for the continuation of his family's bloodline.

Seeing that there were no more questions, the butler immediately withdrew to avoid overhearing anything he shouldn't have.

"It's good that Shaoting is healthy. I have agreed with Lu Bing to be engaged to his second daughter. We can get married when the two children grow up. I hope they can have more children and continue the Yan family line."

"Hmm." Yan Shifan didn't care. That was so many years in the future, why worry about it? What was important was how to play the game right now.

The emperor can only take things one step at a time, how could they have that qualification? They say the chief minister is the most powerful official, but they didn't see how the previous one died.

Instead of entrusting their lives to others and not driving them to the brink of extermination, Yan Shifan insisted, "Father, I am not reconciled. Why should we, father and son, serve the Zhu family and His Majesty like cattle and horses, bearing all the infamy, only to end up being discarded like dogs after the rabbit is killed?"

"His Majesty desires checks and balances, and he needs political maneuvering. I, your son, will play this biggest game with him. Prince Jing may very well be the true dragon, and even if he is a fake, I will make him real. On that day, who will sit on the throne more in esteem: Xu Jie, Gao Gong, and those upright officials, or our Yan family for our service in supporting the emperor?"

Yan Song looked at his son, at the undisguised ambition and madness on his face that was so different from his own when he was young, and suddenly felt all his strength drain away.

He knew he couldn't stop him. This son, whom he had nurtured with his own hands but also spoiled with his own, was finally about to break free from his last control and embark on a daring gamble.

He disregarded his frail and elderly father, his infant son, and the fact that he wasn't truly in a life-or-death situation where he had to gamble. He simply... insisted on gambling.

Although the emperor favored and relied on them, he disapproved of Shi Fan's arrogance, ruthlessness, greed, and cruelty, and even disliked him. Both father and son knew that once they passed away, His Majesty would never allow Shi Fan to succeed him as chief minister and continue the Yan family's power.

Shi Fan was unwilling to relinquish the power he had already tasted to its fullest extent, unwilling to fall from grace. That's why he was so eager to place a heavy bet, gambling on a period of power that could last for decades or even longer.

Seeing that his father did not refute him, Yan Shifan became even more excited: "If Prince Jing does not have the bearing of a great ruler, I will pretend to be one for him; if he has no wings, I will arrange things for him; if he cannot suppress Prince Yu, I will handle it for him; if he does not have the courage to face His Majesty, I will teach him how to deal with him. As long as he is willing to listen to me and trust my Yan family, I can put him on the throne!"

Could he stop him? Yan Song asked himself honestly. Since last year, he had begun to feel powerless in everything. He had already tacitly transferred all real power, such as cabinet drafting, official appointments and removals, and administrative affairs, to his son.

Now, what can be used to stop it? Even if it is forcibly taken back, I am old and frail, and lack energy. Besides this son, who else can I entrust this immense power to to ensure that the Yan family does not fall? If it is handed over to an outsider, I am afraid that we will die even faster.

"That's enough...that's enough," he said weakly. "Do whatever you want, just remember to leave yourself a way out, and think of your son as well as yourself."

"Do not take King Jing as a reliable support, nor treat him as a puppet in your hands. You should respect and flatter him. Once the princes and phoenixes ascend the throne, they will be the masters of the country, holding the power of life, death, fortune and misfortune in their hands."

Yan Shifan looked at his father's tired and aged face, and felt a slight pang in his heart, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a more surging fire of lust for power. He cupped his hands, and his voice returned to its usual respect, but it was filled with a cold determination: "Son, remember your father's teachings."

"Zhu Zaizhen." He left his father's bedroom, stood on the veranda, and looked at his own family's courtyard, which was more magnificent than many princes' mansions with its carved beams and painted rafters. He narrowed his one eye slightly and slowly grinned into a sinister smile. He muttered to himself, "We... have to put on a good show in this play."

As he gradually calmed down, he began to reflect on his father's instructions, but he interpreted them differently. This line of defense was not a way out, but rather a flexibility to advance or retreat. He also needed to let Prince Jing know occasionally that supporting him was not the only option.

This reverence is not groveling, but a more subtle form of control. Prince Jing is not a puppet, but Yan Shifan never does anything that doesn't benefit him. In the end, it all comes down to the methods used.

A moment later, Yan Shifan suddenly shouted, "Someone come here!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to make the attendant waiting in the distance immediately jog over to await his orders.

"Go and invite Yan Maoqing, Luo Longwen, and Zhao Wenhua here. No, summon them to the study in the west wing. Tell them I have urgent business to discuss with them immediately."

"Yes."

He paused, then added, "When Yan Maoqing comes, he should bring a list of the newly delivered goods to the warehouses in the suburbs of Beijing."

"Yes, sir."

……

Zhu Zaiji was somewhat uneasy. Today, according to the arrangements of the Hanlin Academician, he moved from the West Warm Pavilion to the East Warm Pavilion, which was the place where the former Crown Prince had studied.

Although everything here has been replaced with new ones, he still inexplicably felt that his elder brother's presence was everywhere. Fortunately, there was also a tutor lecturing loudly beside him, otherwise he really wouldn't dare to stay here.

"When Qin lost its mandate, the whole world scrambled for it..."

Prince Yu listened absentmindedly when Zhang Yaozu, a Hanlin Academy reader, suddenly spoke up, asking, "Your Highness, you were just discussing the Records of the Grand Historian, specifically the part about how Qin lost its throne and the whole world chased after it. I dare to ask, drawing lessons from history, how should we resolve this struggle for the throne to stabilize the realm and prevent chaos among the people?"

Zhu Zaiji was in a state of unease when he heard this and was taken aback. He hurriedly looked up and saw Zhang Yaozu's gentle yet focused gaze. Several young scholars standing nearby also quietly pricked up their ears.

He glanced to the side instinctively, then realized that his younger brother, Zhu Zaizhen, who was always by his side, had stayed in the west wing.

Now that no one could share the burden of his teacher's pressure, Zhu Zaiji cleared his throat and said, "This... Sima Qian's words are indeed a warning to future generations: rulers should cultivate virtuous governance and not allow power to fall into the wrong hands, lest chaos arise."

…………