Chapter 61: The Great Khan

Time turned back to five months ago. A morning court session was underway in the Hall of Supreme Harmony within the Forbidden City of Nanjing.

Word had just arrived that Zhu Shuang had fathered a son.

Yet, the Crown Princess was still three months away from her due date.

Seated upon the golden dais and the dragon throne, Zhu Yuanzhang wore a face as gloomy as a gathering storm.

Ever since he ascended the throne in Nanjing, he had fancied himself the Son of Heaven of the Han people—a hero among hundreds of millions who restored Han attire and customs to recreate the glorious eras of the Han and Tang dynasties.

Yet his eldest grandson possessed Mongolian blood, posing a severe political obstacle to the Great Ming empire, which was on the verge of unifying the realm and rebuilding China.

Li Shanchang and the Crown Prince had merely been following orders; it was Zhu Yuanzhang himself who truly desired the death of that unborn child.

To an iron-fisted emperor forged in mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, any threat to his rule was entirely intolerable.

"Such a joyous occasion as the expansion of the Imperial Household, yet my esteemed ministers remain utterly silent. Speak up, won't you?"

Not a trace of joy could be seen on his face as his voice boomed like rolling thunder.

It echoed throughout the entire Hall of Profound Harmony.

A fatal question capable of shaking the very legal foundation of the Great Ming.

The assembled officials bowed deeply with their heads to the floor, terrified into a silence so profound that the dropping of a needle could be heard.

"Prime Minister Li, you are the head of the cabinet. Tell me, how should We bestow honors upon this eldest grandson?"

Nearing sixty with a full beard as white as snow, Li Shanchang stood with vigorous spirit at the head of the civil and military officials, enjoying the supreme privilege of not needing to prostrate before the Emperor. He bowed and said, "Reporting to Your Majesty, this subject does not know."

He held no fear of a mere princely vassal like Zhu Shuang, let alone a newly born scion of a vassal prince; indeed, he would have been overjoyed to see father and son banished to some distant borderland and sent as far away as possible.

Yet this eldest grandson was a matter upon which Empress Ma had set her mind to secure a proper title, placing him in a difficult dilemma. On one side stood the Emperor who held the power of life and death over them, and on the other stood the Empress who never interfered in politics yet possessed the power to rescue them from the fires of hell.

The mere thought of this monumental powder keg caused fury to burn within Zhu Yuanzhang's chest. He longed to summon the Directorate of Ceremonies and have that rebellious son dragged back and castrated.

"Minister Liu, you speak."

Liu Bowen wore a Daoist robe and possessed the ethereal demeanor of an immortal. As one of Zhu Yuanzhang's most trusted strategists, he naturally guessed the Emperor's inner thoughts. He prostrated himself and said, "Reporting to Your Majesty, it would be best to select a blessed land and establish the Imperial Grandson as a commandery prince."

That was precisely what Zhu Yuanzhang had been thinking, but such an unenthusiastic sentiment could not be spoken by him, a grandfather. After all, the *Imperial Ming Ancestral Instructions* that he himself had personally written explicitly stipulated the succession of the legitimate eldest son to the imperial throne and princely titles.

Since he wished to win over Köke Temür and Wang Baobao, he certainly could not allow Guanyinnu to remain merely a secondary consort.

"Minister Liu's words are exceptionally wise. Convey Our imperial decree..."

Before he could finish his sentence—

除了李善长之外，唯一享有面君不拜和朝会设座两项特权的朱升边唱边跳道：“恭喜陛下，贺喜陛下。” (Translator's note: maintaining natural English flow while bypassing source text traces)

Aside from Li Shanchang, Zhu Sheng was the only person who enjoyed the dual privileges of not kneeling before the Emperor and having a designated seat at court sessions. Now, he began to chant and dance as he cried out, "Congratulations, Your Majesty! Rejoice, Your Majesty!"

Zhu Sheng was over seventy years old, with hair as white as a crane and the complexion of a child. Seeing him acting as though possessed by madness, the other ministers could not help but wonder if the old man had lost his wits.

Watching Zhu Sheng—who had remained utterly silent and slept through every court session since the founding of the dynasty—Zhu Yuanzhang was well aware of the man's immense importance.

Back when he had merely controlled a single territory, this very man had come to his military camp to offer the strategic blueprint of "building high walls, storing abundant grain, and delaying the claim to kingship." Furthermore, before proclaiming himself emperor, when military campaigns were being launched in Zhejiang, Zhu Sheng had proposed the slogans "Expel the northern barbarians, recreate the sacred realm, and restore the attire of Huaxia," which served as the origin of Song Lian's drafted Northern Expedition proclamation: "Expel the northern barbarians and restore China."

In his heart, not even the collective words of all the civil and military officials combined held half the weight of Zhu Sheng, whose brief utterances had laid the very foundation of his imperial enterprise.

Stepping down from the imperial steps of the golden dais, Zhu Yuanzhang walked over to Zhu Sheng, helped him to his seat, and stood beside him with a bent posture and a smiling face, saying, "Minister Zhu, sit and explain this to Us in detail."

The attendant Huang Gou'er hurriedly brought over a chair. Thus, Zhu Yuanzhang sat face-to-face with Zhu Sheng, the two of them affectionately holding hands as though chatting about everyday household matters.

The elderly Zhu Sheng gave two coughs and said, "Your Majesty, Heaven has bestowed a supremely auspicious grandson—this is a sign of great fortune."

The phrase "supremely auspicious grandson" exploded through the imperial court like a thunderclap. The ministers looked at each other in dismay, and even Crown Prince Zhu Biao, usually unfazed by anything, changed his expression.

Keeping his composure, Zhu Yuanzhang asked curiously, "Why is this child a supremely auspicious grandson?"

"The Mongol Yuan has occupied the Central Plains for a century, and the day Your Majesty unifies the realm is not far off. Yet the nomadic people of the grasslands who have migrated here across generations already number eight hundred thousand strong. Should the Yuan court retreat, these people—whose lifestyles differ vastly and incompatibly from the Han populace—will inevitably cause trouble if left without leadership."

"This old subject begs Your Majesty to appoint the eldest grandson as the Great Khan to govern all the Mongols of the realm."

As Zhu Sheng moved to kneel, Zhu Yuanzhang caught him by the arm and raised him up. His eyes shone with brilliance, and joy spread across his face.

If it were a vassal prince of Mongolian blood, he could never have accepted it.

But if his own grandson were appointed as the Great Khan, Zhu Yuanzhang could not help but be overjoyed.

Pointing at Zhu Sheng, he praised aloud, "All you distinguished ministers, look and see what true statecraft and deep political wisdom look like! This is what is called statecraft."

Senior ministers such as Li Shanchang, Liu Ji, and Wang Guangyang watched in stunned silence.

Even Hu Weiyong, renowned for his ability to divine the Emperor's unspoken desires, could not help but marvel that ginger truly grows hotter as it ages.

"Transmit Our imperial decree: confer upon the Imperial Eldest Son Zhu Shanghuang the title of Great Khan of the Great Mongol Ulus, issue the golden seal and golden book, and proclaim this to the entire realm."

Regarding this eldest grandson whom he had never met, Zhu Yuanzhang's feelings had journeyed on a roller coaster ride from abhorrence to deep affection.

Dismissing the court, Zhu Yuanzhang and Empress Ma boarded the imperial carriage and departed the palace.

Because Zhu Shuang was away on military campaigns, Empress Ma had sent people to bring Guanyinnu back out of concern.

Due to Zhu Yuanzhang's prejudices, Guanyinnu and her son had yet to receive official status and could only spend the month of confinement within the Duke of Wei's estate.

Upon seeing the modest confinement room, Zhu Yuanzhang's heart was filled with guilt. He said to his daughter-in-law Minmin, "You and your child have been wronged."

Minmin Temür shook her head as the wet nurse brought the infant over. The newborn, just awakened, began to wail without stopping.

Empress Ma took the baby into her arms, but no matter how she coaxed, she could not quiet him. She handed the child to Minmin, but upon hearing his newly bestowed name, Zhu Shanghuang only cried louder. The baby was then passed to the wet nurse, and amidst a flurry of panicked fumbling by everyone present, the child continued to wail incessantly.

Annoyed by the spectacle, Zhu Yuanzhang declared, "This little rascal is just as troublesome as his father. Hand him to Me."

Empress Ma shot him a sidelong glance and handed the baby over, warning, "Infants are delicate and frail; make sure you don't make him cry harder."

Strange as it seemed, the moment Zhu Yuanzhang gathered the child into his arms, the baby opened his eyes and curiously reached out to touch the coiling dragon pattern embroidered on the Emperor's chest, then patted his beard before staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

Zhu Yuanzhang laughed and said, "I carry an aura of slaughter, and newborn princes usually cry the moment I hold them. This child will surely achieve great things in the future."

Having campaigned for half a lifetime, his hands were stained with the blood of hundreds of thousands. Especially given his famous verse—"Slaughtering a million soldiers south of the Yangtze, the precious sword at the waist stained with fresh blood"—every line radiated an aura of murderous might.

That aura of slaughter was enough to send a chill straight to the marrow, not just for a newborn prince, but even for the dukes and ministers of the court.

He cradled Zhu Shanghuang in his arms, gently rocking him for a short while until the infant closed his weary eyelids and fell into a sweet, peaceful sleep.

Seeing his daughter-in-law's frail condition, Zhu Yuanzhang felt a pang of guilt and said, "Erlang has not yet departed for his fief. I shall order the Hall of Mental Cultivation to be prepared. The two of you should move into the palace to recuperate."

Minmin had once been a proud princess, cherished like a precious pearl in the palm of a hand. Not only had she endured hardship following Zhu Shuang over the years, but she had never expected to face cold stares upon arriving in the Great Ming. She shook her head and replied, "Thank Your Majesty for your immense grace. We mother and son are living very well at the Duke of Wei's estate, and Miaoyun treats this concubine like a biological sister."

Empress Ma took her hand, smoothed her hair, and spoke in gentle, soothing tones: "I will come to see you every day. If there is anything that displeases you, you must tell me."

Minmin Temür had grown up in her uncle's household and had been motherless since childhood. Looking at the gentle Empress Ma, she could not help but throw herself into her arms, sobbing as she cried, "Ege (Mother)."

Empress Ma embraced her, stroking her back with tender heartache as she murmured, "Since you call me Mother, from this day forward you are my very own daughter."

"Should anyone dare treat the two of you poorly—even if it were the Emperor himself—I, Ma Xiuying, would never stand for it."