Chapter 34: Inheritance Before the Spirit

Page 1 of 3

The era of Hongxi.

The twenty-second year of Yongle.

Dusk was falling.

The palace echoed with waves of weeping, the halls draped in white mourning banners.

Within the Hall of Renzhi.

The imperial consorts and court women, clad in plain mourning garments, wept with heart-wrenching sorrow—their anguish all too real, for they were to be buried alive with the deceased.

In a secluded corner of a side chamber, a timid woman from Goryeo huddled, sobbing quietly. Her misty, wide eyes brimmed with helplessness and despair.

The woman, a gift from the King of Goryeo to the Yongle Emperor, had died of fright upon learning of the Emperor’s passing.

Thus, the consort Lady Zhang, who had been safe and sound, now found herself precariously close to being added to the list of those chosen for live burial.

This ethereal Goryeo woman was, in fact, a noble daughter abducted by Lady Zhang through lavish bribes, meant to fill the vacancy left by the original tribute woman’s death.

To prevent any further mishap, two expressionless eunuchs stood watch, eyes fixed upon her, guarding her with utmost vigilance.

By imperial decree, when an emperor passed away, a number of palace women were to be selected for live burial. Needless to say, the unfortunate chosen were always those without influence or standing.

This abducted Goryeo woman, alone in a foreign land, had no one to rely on. With Lady Zhang’s determination and wealth, it was inevitable that she would become one of the substitutes for the original Goryeo tribute.

She was well aware that death was imminent, yet waited for it in silence, making no attempt to resist.

What use was wailing or resistance? What would defiance accomplish? Death was inescapable.

Moreover, any act of disrespect on her part would bring swift retribution upon her family back in Goryeo.

In truth, the entire clan—seventy-eight souls—had already been wiped out after her abduction.

Shrouded in black cloth and white gauze, the inner palace soon erupted in wails, threatening to become a living hell.

In the corner.

Zhu Youjian, clutching a chronicle of the Yongle era, read softly, “Today, the Emperor has fallen. More than thirty palace women are to be buried alive. On the day of their death, they are brought to the courtyard, where the food is withdrawn. They are led into the hall, their cries shaking the rafters.”

“A small wooden bench is set in the hall. Each is made to stand upon it, a noose placed around her neck. The bench is then removed, and all die by hanging.”

“Who’s there!”

The two eunuchs exchanged glances, their faces filled with alarm.

Hmm?

The elder Zhu Di turned his stony face, glanced at them with imperious indifference.

“Ah… Your Majesty!” The two eunuchs, terrified, fell to their knees, pressing their heads to the ground, not daring to look up again.

Page 2 of 3

Their minds raced with terror: The late Emperor has risen from the dead! The late Emperor has risen from the dead!

At such a moment, those on duty in the Hall of Renzhi were all trusted eunuchs of some standing. These two, the Chief Director and Overseer of the Imperial Horse Office, had once seen the imperial countenance in person and remembered it well.

Now, thoroughly frightened out of their wits, they could only cower.

The Goryeo woman looked on in horror at the sudden appearance of two emperors in dragon robes, shrinking further into herself, trembling uncontrollably.

“Do not be afraid,” Zhu Youjian said, gently patting the woman’s head before turning to address the elder, “Grandfather, the practice of burying the living with the dead is a monstrous injustice, condemned by the world. It must be abolished!”

Zhu Di, suddenly enlightened, realized that this must be the scene of his own funeral. Hearing his grandson’s words, his brows knit in deep concern. Burial of the living was an ancestral practice of the Ming; he did not dare speak against it, let alone abolish it.

He could only choose his words with care. “Grandson, as long as your father has no objection, the Yongle court can immediately issue an edict to abolish this custom.”

“Good. We shall visit the Hongwu Emperor soon! The mourning affairs of Hongxi must have your decree to proceed,” Zhu Youjian agreed readily. He knew Zhu Di would not dare alter the ancestral code on his own and did not press further.

“No problem at all,” Zhu Di replied, relieved.

He glanced around the hall—a host of familiar faces knelt within: Yang Rong, Yang Shiqi, Yang Pu, Xia Yuanji, Yu Qian… all men he knew well, and so he readily consented.

After all, these were the affairs of Hongxi’s reign. If the Hongxi Emperor broke with tradition, what was it to the Yongle Emperor? Before Zhu Di himself, he need not be afraid.

…

After the death of a Ming emperor, the mourning rites included: bathing the body, placing food in the mouth, the initial encoffining, changing into mourning attire, setting up the memorial altar, making the casket, the final encoffining, donning full mourning, preparing the spirit tablet, erecting the funeral banner, conferring the posthumous title, and finally, the casket's departure for burial.

After the altar was set up, Zhu Di’s body lay in state in the Hall of Renzhi, which was then renamed the Hall of the Memorial Altar.

The altar itself was called the “spirit seat”; the mats for kneeling, the “memorial mats”—hence the hall’s new name.

After the hall was prepared, civil and military officials mourned day and night at the gate outside, while the chief ministers could enter the hall itself.

The “making of the casket” referred to the coffin. After the final encoffining, the late Emperor would receive his posthumous title, but before that, the Crown Prince Zhu Gaochi would choose an auspicious day to ascend the throne and then bestow the title.

The “funeral banner” bore the late Emperor’s name and led the procession when the casket left the hall; after burial, it would be placed atop the coffin.

The late Emperor was to lie in state for over a month, during which time all princes and officials would pay homage and keep vigil.

Afterwards, the casket would be taken from the hall, through the Meridian Gate, the Great Ming Gate, Deshengmen, across the Qinghe and Shahe palaces, arriving in three or four days at the Ling’en Hall of the mausoleum, where the enshrining ceremony was held.

Then, on a day set by the Imperial Astronomer, the casket would be interred in the underground vault. Until then, the casket remained in the Ling’en Hall and was worshipped daily.

After the burial, the spirit tablet was returned to the capital and installed in the ancestral temple, thus completing the mourning rites.

At present, the late Emperor’s body was lying in state in the Hall of the Memorial Altar.

Page 3 of 3

Wuying Hall.

A slender figure in mourning garb strode swiftly past the weeping ranks of consorts and attendants, entering a side chamber of Wuying Hall. Every palace maid and eunuch he passed dropped to their knees, heads bowed.

Inside, he circled the screen and drew aside the curtain, coming before a corpulent man weighing some three to four hundred pounds. His voice, hoarse, said, “Father, your second and third younger brothers have returned from the front. They’ve already forced their way into the Hall of the Memorial Altar with a host of soldiers. It seems they come with ill intent!”

Zhu Gaochi, panting, glanced at him. “Withdraw all your men at once. However unruly your uncles may be, they would never dare draw blades before your grandfather’s coffin.”

Though he had only recently ascended the throne, the Hongxi Emperor already held the capital firmly in his grasp. No movement within or without the palace escaped his notice.

“Father!” Zhu Zhanji’s expression grew fierce as he growled, “You know better than anyone what sort of men your brothers are. For the two of them to enter the palace in force at such a time, they cannot have come simply to mourn our grandfather. They will surely seize upon his death as a pretext for trouble!”

“If we allow them to muddy the waters, who could bear the charge of patricide and regicide? In my view, it would be safest to take them captive and confine them at once!”

“Silence!”

“So, you think yourself so clever? Perhaps you’d like to be emperor and tell me what to do?” Zhu Gaochi barked suddenly, clutching his chest and coughing violently.

Zhu Zhanji hurried forward, patting his father’s back, bowing his head. “Father, you know I meant no such thing.”

Gazing at his son’s indignant face, Zhu Gaochi drew a deep breath and shook his head. “You… you ought to spend less time with crickets and more with the histories. This throne can’t be secured by killing all who stand in your way.”

“Help me over. Let’s see what your uncles are up to.”

“Yes, Father,” Zhu Zhanji replied, bowing in obedience.

He sighed inwardly. He knew well his father’s mind: as long as Zhu Gaochi lived, the Kings of Han and Zhao could not overturn the new emperor’s rule.

Having governed the realm for over twenty years and ushered in the Yongle Golden Age, his two headstrong younger brothers were no match for him.

But all this depended on the Hongxi Emperor remaining on the throne.

What he feared most…

Zhu Zhanji’s gaze lingered anxiously on his father’s increasingly frail form, sighing to himself.

…