The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

Chapter 100 Fortune and Misfortune

When Yan Song arrived, he shocked everyone. He was a seventy-year-old man with white hair scattered on both sides of his official hat. He was breathing heavily and rapidly, his face was pale, and there was even a little white foam at the corner of his mouth.

No one dared to even offer assistance. Yan Song did not immediately step forward; he stood at the palace gate, his gaze passing over Tao Zhongwen, Lu Bing, and...

Huang Jin, bypassing the Taoist priests and eunuchs who stood with their heads bowed, focused intently on the thin figure on the imperial couch.

Huang Jin turned around and saw Yan Song's appearance, and sighed slightly in his heart.

He followed the emperor from the Prince of Xingxian's residence all the way to the capital, and spent nearly thirty years in the palace. He had seen countless ministers perform loyalty in front of the emperor, but probably only this one had performed to this extent.

"Your Excellency, His Majesty's fever has subsided, and the imperial physician says he will wake up soon. Please sit down and rest."

Yan Song seemed not to hear, and staggered to the bedside, where he slowly knelt down.

Tao Zhongwen showed no outward fluctuation, but he was already panicking inside. Huang Jin was just a servant girl, and he could only stop the imperial decree for a while. Now that the emperor had woken up and given a clear order, he had to carry it out.

But Yan Song was different. He was the Grand Secretary, a veteran minister whom the Emperor had served for many years. Once he spoke, his influence was completely different.

Everyone waited quietly. Finally, a very soft groan came from the bed. Jiajing's eyelids trembled slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Your Majesty!" Yan Song called out, his voice trembling with undisguised sobs.

He crawled forward half a step, bringing his face close to the edge of the bed, as if afraid the emperor wouldn't see his anxiety. "This old minister is here! This old minister is here!"

Jiajing's gaze was somewhat unfocused, wandering across the ceiling for a moment before slowly gathering on the old man's face, which was streaked with tears.

He saw his old minister's white hair, his crooked court hat, his bloodshot eyes, and the white foam at the corner of his mouth.

"Wei Zhong," Jiajing called softly, his voice hoarse and clearly not fully conscious.

Because the emperor hadn't called Yan Song by his courtesy name for seven or eight years.

"Why are you here?"

Yan Song's lips trembled a few times, and he couldn't speak for a moment. He lowered his head, haphazardly pressed his eyes with his sleeve, and then shakily raised his head, his voice much calmer than before.

"I was terrified when I heard that Your Majesty was unwell. I wished I could rush to Your Majesty's side, but I am old and cannot run fast enough. I am a little late. Is Your Majesty feeling any better?"

Only then did Jiajing truly come to his senses. He shifted his gaze from Yan Song's face and slowly swept it over the crowd.

He had just had a very long dream in which he saw his father and mother, the royal palace where he was born and raised, and many old friends who had died.

"I am fine."

His voice had a bit more strength than before: "Grand Secretary Yan, please get up. You're so old, why are you kneeling?"

Huang Jin stepped forward and helped the Grand Secretary up, and Yan Song stood up shakily.

Jiajing's gaze fell on Tao Zhongwen, who stood not far away, holding a whisk and looking respectful and solemn.

"Did I just say something?"

Huang Jin replied, "The situation was urgent at the time, and I did not hear clearly. I am guilty and beg Your Majesty for punishment."

"Yeah?"

Jiajing gradually began to think about the theory of mutual restraint. He didn't want to believe it, but what if it was really the will of Heaven? Zhu Zaizhen, fire overcomes metal?

Tao Zhongwen astutely grasped Jiajing's hesitation.

"Your Majesty," he stepped forward, lightly flicking his whisk, "as Heaven has indicated, I have reported the truth. Although Your Majesty's health is temporarily safe, the warnings from the heavens should not be ignored—"

"Immortal Master!" Yan Song suddenly spoke, bowing slightly to Tao Zhongwen. His face still bore the same pitiful old look from before, but his words were sharp and uncompromising.

"The Immortal Master has served His Majesty for many years and is well-versed in Taoist arts. I have always respected and admired him. However, the imperial physician said that His Majesty needs to rest quietly for several days and must avoid tiring himself out."

"If the Immortal Master has something to report, perhaps he should wait until His Majesty has recovered?"

Tao Zhongwen looked at Yan Song, his old eyes filled with determination, his meaning clear: unless you can perform a public demonstration of ascending to heaven in broad daylight, it is absolutely impossible for you to finalize this matter.

Tao Zhongwen looked at the emperor, Jiajing, who was about to fall into a deep sleep again. He had exhausted his energy for a day and a night, and with the side effects of the elixir, he would not recover without more than a month of recuperation.

Without Jiajing's explicit support, he was naturally powerless to contend with the Grand Secretary, and the Prince Yu he had been waiting for did not arrive. Tao Zhongwen almost vomited blood; he was truly hopeless!

Helpless, he could only bow and say, "Your Excellency is right. This humble Taoist is only concerned about Your Majesty's health and has no other intentions. Everything is for the sake of Your Majesty's well-being."

Seeing that Tao Zhongwen had left, Yan Song did not pursue the matter of the golden elixir, because it was a difficult issue to discuss. If he said that the golden elixir was problematic, it would be tantamount to denying Tao Zhongwen's claims.

To deny Tao Zhongwen is to deny the possibility of cultivating immortality. That would mean the emperor's years of arduous cultivation were in vain. Whoever says this will die.

Therefore, everyone thought that the emperor was undergoing a tribulation, and that after completing it, he would live longer and his cultivation would increase. In a few days, they would all submit a memorial to congratulate him.

Zhu Zaizhen stood behind Xu Wei, watching him copy the scroll. It was basically finished, and it looked very similar to the original. He could have taken it to show off to his father, the emperor.

This accident has made it impossible for him to enter the West Garden easily again, damned old bastard!

However, he did not regret it. It was not a bad thing if things went a little complicated. Just as he had thought before, the worst that could happen was that he would be enfeoffed.

With Yan Song, Yan Shifan, and Zhang Juzheng staying here to sow discord, and finding a few Taoist priests to use the same methods on Prince Yu, he won't be able to withstand it for long.

Xu Wei assumed that King Jing was in low spirits, so he put down his pen and turned to comfort him, saying, "Good fortune may be a harbinger of misfortune, and misfortune may be a harbinger of good fortune. I have actually discovered a good opportunity in this matter."

"Oh?" Zhu Zaizhen asked with interest, "Tell me about it."

"Even if His Majesty does not agree to your leaving the capital to take up your fief, he may still have reservations. Why doesn't Your Highness take this opportunity to propose leaving the palace to reside at your own residence?"

Zhu Zaizhen's eyes lit up; he had wanted to leave the palace and live in the capital for a long time.

It was inconvenient to meet anyone in the palace. To meet Zhang Juzheng, one had to follow the procedures for reading in the Wenhua Hall. To meet Xu Wei, one had to go to great lengths to arrange for a token and document to enter the palace.

Moreover, once he finished painting, he shouldn't be allowed to enter the palace, let alone see anyone else.

My maternal grandparents and Wan Mizhai arrived yesterday, but there's no reason for us to go out and meet them.

If one could establish a government office in the capital, it would be like a trapped dragon entering the sea or a bird escaping its cage.

Misfortune may be a blessing in disguise—Xu Wei was right. With the methods they had just arranged, and the fact that the Emperor couldn't simply order Prince Yu to his fiefdom in order to keep him in check, he might not be indifferent to it.

"What you say is exactly what I think. But since you have already asked the Imperial Observatory to submit a report on the theory of refining gold with fire, and now you want to leave the palace, isn't that contradictory?"

"What does the Imperial Observatory's memorial have to do with Your Highness's concession to avoid harming His Majesty?"

Moreover, based on my guess, His Majesty is more likely to distrust everyone right now, but he is certainly more worried about the bad than the good. Therefore, Your Highness's request to leave the palace is to relieve His Majesty's worries.

"Alright, I will submit my report in a few days."