Chapter Eleven: This rebellious son must have come to assassinate the emperor. I’ll fight him to the death!

Inside the Palace of Kunning, the Chongzhen Emperor, recently betrayed by his own son, lay on the bed, his face filled with despair. His gaze was vacant, as if struck by a great blow, and he muttered repeatedly, “Ungrateful son! Truly an unfilial son!”

In stark contrast, Empress Dowager Zhou remained composed. The reason was simple: the rebel was none other than her own son. From her perspective, while the situation was somewhat astonishing, upon reflection, it was not entirely impossible to accept. After all, as the crown prince, the empire of the Ming dynasty was destined to be passed to him sooner or later; the timing made little difference.

Moreover, she never expected her gentle and refined son, who had seemed so well-mannered since childhood, to actually rebel—and succeed at it! It was unprecedented in the Ming dynasty for a crown prince to rise in rebellion.

As she pondered this, footsteps suddenly echoed from the doorway, followed by a familiar voice: “Father, Mother, your son has come to see you.”

Hearing this, Chongzhen abruptly sat up, his eyes blazing with fury. He looked at Empress Dowager Zhou and said, “This ungrateful son surely intends to commit regicide. I will fight him to the death!”

Empress Dowager Zhou was somewhat speechless. If the crown prince truly wished to kill the emperor, why would he come to her? Wouldn’t it have been simpler to strike immediately? She hastened to reassure her husband: “Your Majesty, rest assured, Lang’er is not that kind of person. He will not harm you.”

Chongzhen said no more, but his wary gaze remained fixed on the door. Soon after, Zhu Cilang stepped inside. Seeing the emperor’s guarded expression, he smiled broadly.

“Father, you have finally awakened. I feared you might never regain consciousness!”

Chongzhen sneered coldly. “Hmph! Ungrateful son, you’re just hoping I die now, aren’t you? So that you can openly claim the throne? Think again! I will not die—unless you kill me yourself!”

He struck a pose as if ready to bravely sacrifice himself at any moment. Zhu Cilang found this amusing and didn’t bother arguing. Instead, he turned to Empress Dowager Zhou.

“Mother, everything I have done today is for the eternal prosperity of the Ming dynasty. I hope you can understand. Also, Father will have to stay here for some time. Once I have stabilized the court, I will allow him to leave.”

Empress Dowager Zhou nodded. “Rest assured, Mother will take good care of your father.”

After a brief pause, she added, “Lang’er, since you have taken this path, Mother will ask no more. I only hope you do not regret it.”

Zhu Cilang smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, Mother. I will never regret it.”

Then he looked again at Chongzhen. “Father, starting tomorrow, I will move against the nobles and then reform the Imperial Guards. After that, the Five Army Command.”

“What?” Chongzhen’s eyes widened in disbelief, momentarily forgetting his anger. When he first ascended the throne, he too had contemplated reforming the Imperial Guards. He even appointed Li Banghua for the task, but to no avail. The nobles involved were too numerous, and Li found himself unable to make progress. Several attempts over the years ended in failure, and the matter was eventually abandoned.

In the end, Chongzhen selected some men from the Imperial Guards to form a unit called the “Brave Guards.” This unit had been a great surprise, winning many battles in recent years, even campaigning across Shaanxi. However, they suffered from insufficient manpower, logistics lagged behind, and months of unpaid wages had led to heavy losses.

But that was not the main point.

If the emperor himself could not reform the Imperial Guards, how could a rebellious crown prince hope to do so? Especially when Li Guozhen, the commander of the Imperial Guards, was one of his co-conspirators—wasn’t this just biting the hand that fed him? Wasn’t he afraid the men might betray him?

Sensing Chongzhen’s worry, Zhu Cilang spoke again. “Father, I know what you fear, but rest assured—I never undertake what I cannot accomplish. What you cannot do, I will. I will save the Ming dynasty. Wait here for my good news.”

Having said this, he nodded to Empress Dowager Zhou and left.

“Ungrateful son! You don’t know how high the heavens are! Do you think you can handle those men? They will chew you up and leave not a bone behind!” Chongzhen’s voice rang out as Zhu Cilang stepped out of the palace.

But Zhu Cilang said nothing, not even pausing his footsteps. He wanted to see how those men would attempt to devour him tomorrow.

Regarding Luo Yangxing and the nobles colluding to embezzle the Imperial Guards’ wages, Zhu Cilang planned to keep this from Chongzhen for now, fearing the emperor might die of anger if he knew.

It might seem like a good thing—once Chongzhen died, Zhu Cilang could ascend immediately. But it was not so simple. In ancient times, the emperor’s death was earth-shattering, and any misstep could bring unimaginable disaster to the realm.

Especially at this moment.

If Chongzhen died now and news reached Liaodong, would generals like Hong Chengchou lose morale, causing the Ming armies to suffer defeat? If the news reached Shaanxi and Henan, would the civil and military officials fighting Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong similarly falter, leading to disaster?

If troubles erupted simultaneously in both regions, the Ming dynasty would surely collapse prematurely.

Zhu Cilang could not be certain if such things would happen, nor dare to gamble. For now, his convenient “father” must not die! Even if some uncontrollable fate took him, no one outside could be allowed to know.

***

At the Duke of Yingguo’s residence, it was now the hour of the Ox, roughly 2 a.m. by later timekeeping. In a study, the current Duke of Yingguo, Zhang Zhiji, stared bewildered at his son.

Half an hour earlier, just as he had gone to bed, Zhang Shize had dragged him out of sleep, urgently claiming there was a matter of life and death to discuss. Only the eldest son dared such boldness; if it had been another son, he would have administered a harsh beating.

Yet after hearing Zhang Shize’s recounting, Zhang Zhiji was utterly baffled. He could not fathom how, when everything had seemed fine before sleep, the crown prince could suddenly rebel in the dead of night. After all, the crown prince was but a thirteen-year-old boy—how could he have the means for such a thing?

“Father, what are you thinking? Didn’t you understand what I just said?” Zhang Shize’s anxious voice interrupted the silence.

Though Zhu Cilang had promised not to investigate the Yingguo household’s embezzlement of Imperial Guard wages, Zhang Shize was still deeply afraid.

At last, Zhang Zhiji snapped back to reality.

With a sharp slap, he struck Zhang Shize across the face, leaving his son stunned.