The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

But where are the people? They stay in their respective prefectures, or are registered in other government offices, or drift through life waiting for their official appointments. They have never come to my side to do any work, never offered any advice, and never stood up for me in any way.

Because the emperor didn't send them, and the emperor didn't speak, this group would forever remain just names on paper, utterly useless.

"Then how can I appoint my subordinates?"

Consort Kang carefully examined her son. Fine whiskers had begun to grow on his upper lip, and his voice was also starting to change.

"According to custom, you will be ordered to leave the palace and go to your residence before the wedding."

"Ah." Zhu Zaiji exclaimed in surprise, then his gaze involuntarily turned to look outside. Even though he knew it was impossible, he couldn't help but think of a thin figure and those big, round eyes.

It was only for a moment, but Consort Kang still saw it. She saw him glance outside, not towards the West Garden or the palace gate, but towards the corridor where the palace maids stood waiting for orders.

Consort Kang's heart sank, and her hands clenched involuntarily. Her son had grown a beard, and his voice had changed. He had gone from a child who called out to his mother in a babyish voice to a young boy who would look out into the distance.

He wasn't looking at her, but at the corridor, at a palace maid standing there.

She wasn't angry, nor was she disappointed. It was something more primal, more irrational—a mother suddenly realizing that there was a small part of her son's heart that she couldn't enter.

Prince Yu immediately noticed the change in his mother's emotions. He thought about what to say to break the silence, but the more he thought about it, the less he could open his mouth.

"My son, don't be afraid, I'm not blaming you." Her voice suddenly became very soft, as soft as a feather falling to the ground: "At your age, it's normal to have these thoughts."

However, you are a prince, and your marriage is not up to you or your mother to decide; it only counts if your father, the Emperor, approves.

Zhu Zaiji's clenched fist trembled slightly, but he still dared not speak. Consort Kang looked at him like this, and a surge of anger suddenly welled up in her chest.

It wasn't anger, but something more complex: heartache, anxiety, resentment, and the stifling feeling of a thousand or ten thousand words stuck in my throat that I couldn't utter.

If this child doesn't dare to fight for anything in front of her, then wouldn't he be even more subservient in front of the emperor?

"Alright, I'm not saying this to make you give up on the idea. When you're older, I'll take you in as a concubine."

Upon hearing this, Prince Yu felt a sense of relief, but his face flushed slightly: "Your subject didn't have any particular thoughts, it's just..."

Consort Kang waved her hand to interrupt him, and after asking her name and appearance, she said, "These are all minor matters, no need to say more. I will take care of her. You just need to focus on your studies."

"Yes."

"Your mother will send your uncle to inquire among those in the Hanlin Academy, the Censorate, and the Six Ministries who are willing to get close to you. He will help you sift through them."

Her voice was very low, so low that only the two of them could hear it. "The screening is finished. Here is the list for you. What you need to do is to take the initiative to get closer to them, not wait for them to get closer to you. You should go and get closer to them."

If there are things you want to push forward, such as leaving the palace and returning to your residence sooner, re-appointing subordinate officials, or transferring someone to your side, don't just keep thinking about them to yourself. Tell them and let them offer suggestions.

Consort Kang's gaze was fixed on his face: "They have fellow townsmen, classmates, and mentors. When one person speaks, their voice is soft; when two people speak, their voices are louder; when three people speak, it becomes a wave of sound. When the wave is loud, your father will also pay attention."

Zhu Zaiji was silent for a moment, then he nodded. It wasn't a perfunctory nod to reassure his mother; it was a deep nod that showed he had taken the words to heart.

"Your subject understands."

Consort Kang looked at him and suddenly felt very tired. Not physically tired, but the kind of exhaustion that comes from using up all the strength she had been holding back for so long.

She thought too much, said too much, and schemed too much for her son today, like an old sparrow stuffing every grain of rice it brought into its young bird's mouth, not knowing how much he could swallow, or which grain would allow him to grow wings.

"Go on," she waved her hand. "Remember what your mother said, and do everything else as before."

Zhu Zaiji stood up and bowed deeply to his mother. He knew that his mother must have stayed up for a long time to think of these words.

After Prince Yu left, Consort Kang finished a cup of tea and recovered her composure. She slowly got up and walked to where her son had been sitting, picked up a few strands of his long hair, and silently put them into her box.

This was something she planned to take with her when she died, to be buried with her.

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

Zhu Zaizhen arrived at Jingren Palace only to find it empty. He stood at the palace gate and glanced inside. The couch where his mother usually sat was empty, the thin quilt draped over the edge of the couch was neatly folded, and a hand warmer that was still emitting a little steam was placed on a small table.

"Your Highness, just now, someone from the Imperial Concubine's side came to invite you over to persuade her, saying that the Imperial Concubine hasn't slept a wink all night again..."

Zhu Zaizhen frowned. Even an iron body couldn't withstand such an ordeal, especially since the Imperial Concubine's health was already quite ordinary. If this continued, she might not live much longer.

Zhu Zaizhen thought about it and decided to go to Chengqian Palace. Since he knew about it, he couldn't not pay his respects.

After all, the Imperial Concubine's care for him over the years was well-known in the palace.

"Where is Your Highness going?" Ma Dezhao followed lightly.

"Chengqian Palace." Zhu Zaizhen's steps did not stop.

Ma Dezhao opened his mouth as if to say something, but the timing was not good. The Consort had lost her child, while His Highness and His Highness had just been granted a title. The contrast between the two would easily make the Consort think that they had gone there to show off.

Going is not an option, but not going is also not an option; ingratitude is the most disheartening thing.

Walking along the palace path, one could clearly feel that the palace servants were much more respectful and cautious towards them, giving way early and bowing to greet them earlier, far more attentive than in the previous days.

This is the power of imperial authority; even the slightest favor can change a person's circumstances anywhere.

Soon they arrived at Chengqian Palace. The once grand Chengqian Palace was now quite desolate. Although the palace gates and halls had not changed, the palace maids and eunuchs who came and went to sweep all had a desolate expression.

This used to be the liveliest place in the palace, full of vitality and teeming with life. The palace maids and eunuchs came and went with light steps, and even the red-beaked green parrot kept in the birdcage under the corridor was quite arrogant.

Aside from speaking auspicious words to the Imperial Concubine and the Crown Prince, he would remain disdainful and silent to everyone else.

…………