The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

Zhu Zaizhen felt hot all over and his breathing became heavier, so he stopped what he was doing. He was practicing to strengthen his body and cultivate his vital energy, not to go to the battlefield, so there was no need to practice until he was exhausted.

Then he turned his head and looked at the general over there. It was the same commander of the Left Guard of the Golden Guard he had seen when he broke into the palace last time.

He wore an eight-lobed, polished helmet, a long, bright blue cloth armor, steel armbands, a gold plaque at his waist, and an embroidered spring knife. He stood motionless on the stone steps to the left of the palace gate, like an iron-cast door god placed there.

When Zhao Cheng saw King Jing looking over, the hairs on the back of his head stood on end. He had been guarding the palace gates for so many years, and he had never been in such a predicament.

Zhu Zaizhen approached with great interest. He first stopped in front of Zhao Cheng, looked him up and down, and then reached out and touched the breastplate.

Beneath the blue cloth lies an extremely hard texture; to the touch, it is cool, hard, and carries a hint of warmth from being sun-dried.

Zhao Cheng stood still, not daring to move. Zhu Zaizhen's hand moved down from the breastplate, reaching for the hilt of the Embroidered Spring Blade.

This time, Zhao Cheng almost instinctively stepped aside, and the hilt of his sword slipped from King Jing's fingertips.

"Your Highness, weapons are dangerous." Zhao Cheng turned away and gave a difficult bow. "You'd better not touch them."

Zhu Zaizhen wasn't annoyed. He withdrew his hand and looked at him.

"Zhao..."

"This humble general is Zhao Cheng."

Knowing that his surname was Zhao and addressing him as General Zhao would have been enough, but Zhu Zaizhen still made him repeat his name.

"Why is there a blue robe over the armor?"

Zhao Cheng really didn't want to talk to King Jing. So many eyes were watching: the imperial guards at the palace gates, the captains patrolling back and forth, and the eunuchs waiting in the distance under the corridor.

However, ignoring Prince Jing would be a serious crime of disrespecting a prince, so he could only bite the bullet and reply, "Your Highness, we are here guarding the palace gates and are not out fighting."

Wearing the armor without any protection would be unbearable, as the armor would be scorching hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter.

The outer cloth cover provides insulation against heat and cold, allowing for long periods of standing guard. Furthermore, iron armor is prone to rusting; the cloth cover prevents moisture and sweat, making it much more durable and preventing the iron armor from scratching the official robes and jade belts underneath.

"It wasn't easy." Zhu Zaizhen nodded after listening, then reached out and patted Zhao Cheng's breastplate twice, the iron armor under the cloth making a dull sound.

He withdrew his hand and suddenly changed the subject.

"How's my training going?"

Zhao Cheng was taken aback. He had kept his eyes straight ahead, but Prince Jing had been standing there for almost half an hour; how could he not have seen him?

"Very good." Zhao Cheng carefully chose his words: "Although I have not practiced Your Highness's stance training, I can see that if you persist in it, you will definitely improve your health."

Zhu Zaizhen smiled, a hint of smugness in his smile, after all, it was the result of his hard work day and night.

"How did General Zhao train since childhood?"

Zhao Cheng was silent for a moment. The question wasn't difficult to answer, but he didn't know why King Jing was asking it.

"Practice stance training to build a foundation, then lift stone weights, lift stone lions, draw a hard bow, run with weights, then mount a horse, practice riding, archery, and horse fighting, and finally go to a real battle, and that's how you become proficient."

First train strength, then skill, and finally courage, Zhu Zaizhen said thoughtfully.

At this moment, Huang Jin also returned. With a somewhat complicated expression, he first summoned two people to the Embroidered Uniform Guard Command to relay orders before going to Prince Jing.

"Your Highness, His Majesty has granted you permission to leave the palace, but you must be accompanied by guards and return before nightfall."

Zhao Cheng, who was listening nearby, was inwardly horrified. How could His Majesty be so lenient with Prince Jing? He blocked the palace gates, handed over his token, and made a scene all afternoon, and in the end, not only was he not punished, but he was even allowed to leave the palace?

In all the years he had served in the Western Garden, he had never seen any prince or high-ranking official receive such treatment.

But suddenly his heart tightened, fearing that if Prince Jing asked him to be his bodyguard, he would be transferred away from the West Garden and would never have the chance to return to guard duty again.

You have to understand that he didn't come from a high social standing, and he got to where he is now in his early thirties all thanks to His Majesty's trust. He doesn't want to get involved with a certain prince at this time.

Fortunately, King Jing just smiled at him and didn't seem to intend to appoint any generals.

Zhu Zaizhen respectfully expressed his gratitude. He knew that given his father's personality, he would not let the matter rest and would definitely be looking for an opportunity to deal with him.

So on this trip, he was going to visit his aunt's house and then go to see the mansion that Yan Shifan had given him.

He didn't care which one the emperor chose to target, but he just didn't know whether his father would be willing to lower himself to deal with a mere sixth-rank official or to target the Yan faction, the moneybags he had personally cultivated.

"Huang Ban, I'll take my leave then. I'll come again another day."

"Please don't come," Huang Jin thought to himself, but he couldn't help but admire him. For so many years, no one had dared to provoke him. Although Prince Jing was young, if he could really withstand His Majesty's pressure, then who knows what the future held?

He was the one who had accompanied the emperor the longest in the world. From the Prince of Xing's Mansion to the Forbidden City, from the Zhengde era to the twenty-ninth year of the Jiajing era, through decades of ups and downs, he dared not say that he had fully grasped His Majesty's thoughts, but he always had a clear understanding of the general outline.

Otherwise, it would not have been possible for him to have peacefully accompanied the emperor to this day.

Prince Yu is timid, honest, and well-behaved. His Majesty will not dislike him, but he will certainly not like him either.

His Majesty might not even remember what his son looked like, because there was nothing of interest in him.

His Majesty suppressed him not because of anything he did, but simply because he didn't want the Qingliu faction to support a crown prince to compete with him and disrupt his cultivation plans.

Xia Yan only became more and more outrageous because he was the Crown Prince, which eventually led His Majesty to no longer tolerate him.

But Prince Jing was different. He would cause trouble every few days, and after he did, His Majesty would get angry, think of countermeasures, and try to discipline him to demonstrate the majesty of the sovereign.

But in this back-and-forth, this battle of wits and courage, His Majesty's mind was inevitably drawn in. He would wonder what his son was thinking and wait to see his next move.

Perhaps Prince Jing's chess skills were still immature, but the emperor didn't really have any rivals. In his spare time from cultivating Taoism and taking elixirs, teasing and playing with this interesting son was a rare pleasure.

And the more he pondered, the clearer the outline of this son became in His Majesty's mind.

When His Majesty finally realizes that cultivating immortality is nothing but a mirage, something that can be admired but never attained.

By then, will the Prince Jing, whom he knows well, be the one he can remember and entrust with the heavy responsibility of governing the country, or the mediocre Prince Yu, whom he has almost no impression of?

So-called seniority has never been His Majesty's top priority. He has never been a rule-abiding person. From Anlu to Beijing, from the heir of the Prince of Xing to the throne, when has he ever followed the rules?

Huang Jin looked at that energetic figure, whose steps were filled with excitement, and couldn't help but smile slightly.

If it were Prince Jing, that wouldn't be bad either.

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