The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

It took Ma Dezhao a while to understand what his prince meant. He was a smart man, but he had been confined to the palace since childhood and was used to focusing all his attention on palace affairs.

"His Highness Prince Yu might be similar to Emperor Xiaozong." Ma Dezhao had experienced it and seen how Emperor Xiaozong interacted with his ministers. He was a good person and a good emperor, and everyone said so.

Zhu Zaizhen did not answer that question, but said: "So-called capable ministers are like wild horses or spirited steeds. If they cannot be tamed, if they are not given reins and saddles, they will not be able to serve you with peace of mind. They may even kick up their tails, break free of their reins, or even turn against their master."

Emperor Xiaozong was gentle and kind, while Emperor Wuzong was arrogant and stubborn, but in the end, it was His Majesty who truly tamed the ministers. Ma Dezhao whispered, "His Majesty is not good at riding and archery, but he can tame the ministers and make them all fall silent."

Zhu Zaizhen shook his head: "Wrong. Father Emperor didn't bother to tame any particular horse. He built a magnificent and huge horse farm and put in countless fine horses with different temperaments, coat colors and abilities."

He watched from the high platform as they kicked and bit each other, fighting for fodder and water, occasionally throwing down a handful of special beans or cracking an empty whip.

For a few beans, or to avoid the whip that might fall at any moment, the horses would fight each other with all their might, forgetting to resist and forgetting freedom.

Thus, all the horses are inseparable from this stable, and all the force ultimately flows towards the tip of the whip.

Ma Dezhao was deeply shaken by this analysis and it took him a long time to recover from the imagery of the horse farm. He looked at his prince, and in addition to his usual respect, his eyes held an unprecedented sense of awe.

His Highness sees things too clearly, so clearly that even this seasoned palace servant feels a sense of unease. So young…

"Your Highness, you have truly revealed the Emperor's mind and strategies."

"To put it bluntly, it's nothing." Zhu Zaizhen said dismissively, "If Emperor Wuzong hadn't died or had any children, then Father's schemes would never have had a chance to be used."

Could he possibly rebel with these tactics? He first attained this supreme position, and only then did he acquire the so-called imperial tactics. Tactics are the tool, and power is the handle. A tool without a handle cannot be held; it will only cut oneself.

The founding emperor used the simplest method of horse training when he established the country. He himself was the most valiant and keen rider, wearing the strongest armor and holding the hardest whip. All the wild horses were tamed and obedient under his whip. If he told them to go east, they would not dare to go west; if he told them to charge, they would not dare to stop; if he told them to die, they would not dare to live.

Therefore, he was able to command his iron cavalry, sweep across the land, and cleanse the world.

Ma Dezhao sighed in a hoarse voice, "It's such a pity that these words were only spoken to me!"

This exclamation echoed briefly in the empty garden before being blown away by the wind, as if it had never existed.

"These are the only things I can say to my brother now."

Zhu Zaizhen had been suppressing himself for a long time. There were so many things he wanted to do, but he couldn't do anything rashly because his father was too smart and powerful. With just a word, he could prevent Zhu Zaizhen from ever making any waves in his life.

All knowledge and strategies are insignificant in the face of an emperor who holds absolute power.

He's not qualified to be a rider yet; he's just a horse in the stable. The first thing he needs to do is know when to lower his head to graze and when to look up at the distance.

And when to be prepared, which direction to dodge in when the whip actually comes down, or which horse to pull in front to block it.

He stopped looking at Ma Dezhao and turned his gaze back to the palace walls and shadows that were now completely shrouded in twilight. In the darkness, the majestic buildings were reduced to massive, silent outlines, like lurking giant beasts.

"Let's go back. The Yan family should also make some gesture."

He strode forward, no longer discussing lofty imperial strategies, but focusing all his attention on the specific and subtle tests and confrontations that were about to take place.

…………

The Yan residence was located in a bustling area, spanning three or four neighborhoods. It had a pond covering dozens of acres, filled with rare birds and exotic trees. Its magnificence was comparable to that of a prince's mansion, and Yan Shifan's study was even more so.

The beams and pillars are all made of Phoebe zhennan wood from the deep mountains of Yunnan and Guizhou, which is more valuable than gold. The floor is not marble or white marble, but paved with gold bricks. They make a sound when tapped and have no holes when broken. They are not real gold, but they are more valuable than gold and silver.

The furniture was made entirely of rosewood and huanghuali wood, inlaid with ivory, mother-of-pearl and gemstones. The candlesticks, incense burners, and smoky balls were made of gold or silver, and many of them came directly from the palace as gifts.

The walls and bookshelves are adorned with authentic works of calligraphy and paintings by renowned artists throughout history, such as Wu Daozi, Gu Kaizhi, Wang Xizhi, and Mi Fu. These scrolls are casually displayed, changing with the seasons, all to showcase the owner's refined taste.

No matter how many times Yan Maoqing, Zhao Wenhua, and others came, they couldn't help but drool. With such wealth and status, what more could they ask for?

It's a pity that this meeting was held in the study; otherwise, in the villa, dozens of beautiful women dressed in light gauze and thin clothes, bare-armed and barefoot, would have accompanied them in a night of revelry.

Among them were nine "slender horses" sent from Jiangnan. Being proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting was just the basics; what was truly remarkable was that they could recite the "Great Ming Code" while performing the Zhezhi Dance. They were both fun and useful.

"Young Grand Secretary."

The group of seven or eight people bowed and greeted him. Yan Shifan did not sit in the main seat. Instead, he reclined on a rosewood recliner under the window, while a handsome young servant in fine clothes knelt on the ground and massaged his legs.

"Get down." Yan Shifan gently kicked the man away with his foot. "Stand guard the door, and don't let anyone come near."

The servant boy pouted and glared at him, then got up and gracefully walked towards the door. Everyone immediately made way for him, their faces showing friendly smiles.

The young Grand Secretary has always been indiscriminate in his relationships with men and women, only caring about looks. Over the years, he has not missed a single handsome young man in the capital. Among his subordinates, if a young man with good looks is willing to offer himself to the emperor, he will make an exception and give him special favor, keeping him in the inner palace for future meetings and promotions.

Fortunately, the young Grand Secretary didn't have to force them in this regard, which relieved them of any worries about the future.

"Please sit down."

Everyone sat down as instructed. The chairs were made of fine huanghuali wood and covered with thick brocade cushions. Yan Maoqing placed an inconspicuous sandalwood box on his lap, clasping his hands together. Luo Longwen twirled a few sparse whiskers, his gaze sweeping over Yan Shifan's face. Zhao Wenhua was the most restless, leaning forward slightly, looking as if he were ready to be ordered around at any time.

"You've all figured out what His Majesty means, haven't you?"

Zhao Wenhua was the first to respond: "It seems they have no intention of establishing an heir; it will probably take several more years before a decision is made."

The other two nodded. It wasn't that there were too many princes to count; they had to be carefully selected. There were only two princes in total, and it was either one or the other.

Yan Maoqing tentatively suggested, "Actually, it doesn't matter who is chosen as the crown prince. Why should we get involved..."

Before he could finish speaking, Yan Shifan slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his single eye glaring at him with a fierce look.

Yan Maoqing immediately stood up and bowed his hands: "Young Grand Secretary, please calm down. I misspoke."

"The old man is seventy years old." Yan Shifan said slowly and deliberately, "If you don't find a backer in advance, aren't you afraid that you will be treated like a fat pig in the future, skinned and eaten clean?"

...............