Chapter 2: Wei Zhongxian

Since the death of Emperor Tianqi, Wei Zhongxian had not once enjoyed a peaceful meal or a restful sleep.

Indeed.

While Emperor Tianqi was still alive, he had been somewhat arrogant, even once truly believing himself to be some kind of "Ninth Lord."

But the moment the emperor died, he instantly realized he was nothing more than a dog dependent on imperial power.

The newly enthroned seventeen-year-old emperor needed only a single word to revoke all his powers,

and just as easily could grant him death, sending him to serve loyally beside the late emperor in the afterlife.

Wei Zhongxian could clearly feel that those godsons who had once treated him with utmost respect were beginning to rebel.

Only a few days had passed?!

Was he about to fall from the dazzling Ninth Lord to a despised stray dog?

Not to mention, he had already caught wind that the Donglin faction intended to ensure he died without a grave.

What were these Donglin faction people?

Damn it, he was just about to leave the Forbidden City on the emperor’s orders to investigate tax revenue in Jiangnan, when the emperor suddenly fell into the water at the prime of his life.

Later, he was said to have caught a cold from the incident and was cruelly treated to death.

And that wasn’t all.

Wei Zhongxian had spent years and great effort to eliminate several Donglin officials.

Yet, through their propaganda, it seemed as if he could kill court officials with a mere word or glance.

Naturally, since he wielded such immense power, all the problems in the Ming dynasty were attributed to Wei Zhongxian himself.

He didn’t even realize he was capable of such influence.

Damn those Donglin faction scoundrels!

Wei Zhongxian bitterly regretted having underestimated their despicable methods.

But now, above all, he was terrified.

He feared the young new emperor might easily believe those hypocrites and execute him.

Though his own hands were not clean, he had never once entertained disloyal thoughts toward the throne.

But the emperor...

A seventeen-year-old child, could he truly see through the devious old foxes who had navigated the court for decades?

Therefore, Wei Zhongxian had been desperately trying to show loyalty to the new emperor.

But all he received was a reply that the young ruler, overwhelmed with grief, had been mourning for ten days beside his predecessor’s body in the Palace of Heavenly Purity.

No one else was allowed to see him except the close eunuch Wang Cheng’en.

Wei Zhongxian was not close to Wang Cheng’en.

However, he shared some camaraderie at the gambling table with another close eunuch, Xu Yingyuan, from the same household.

So, he sent Xu Yingyuan a hefty bribe of one hundred thousand taels of silver,

hoping Xu could convey a message to Wang Cheng’en and secure him an audience with His Majesty.

“Granted.”

After hearing Wang Cheng’en’s report, Zhu Youjian lightly uttered two words.

He thought of Wei Zhongxian.

This man not only helped him balance the civil officials but also held a role others could not yet replace—seizing the property of the disgraced.

Real, tangible silver.

Politics was neither good nor bad; it was all about position.

Those useful to him, Zhu Youjian naturally sought to win over.

Making many friends and physically reducing enemies—that was one of his principles.

“Also,”

Zhu Youjian glanced at the respectful Wang Cheng’en, “Cheng’en, you have been close to me since childhood. Speak frankly in the future; there is no need to be so reserved.”

Now fully embracing his new identity,

Zhu Youjian’s behavior gradually took on a more Han Chinese character.

Moreover, for someone like him,

if he could not trust those closest to him to report matters straightforwardly without overthinking,

how could the Ming dynasty ever rise to greatness again?

“Your humble servant is frightened!” Hearing the emperor call his name directly, Wang Cheng’en felt a warmth in his heart and quickly knelt, bowing in gratitude.

Zhu Youjian waved his hand, signaling Wang Cheng’en to bring Wei Zhongxian to him.

After leaving the main hall,

Wang Cheng’en exhaled deeply.

He had wrestled with his thoughts over the words he had just spoken.

On one hand, he could not withhold the fact that Wei Zhongxian had handed him silver; to do so would be disloyal.

On the other, he genuinely worried the emperor might blame him for it.

Back when they served under the late emperor,

His Majesty had never shown much favor toward Wei Zhongxian.

At the same time, the emperor’s character—dare he say—was somewhat suspicious, harsh, and ungracious.

However, after ten days of mourning, the emperor seemed to have undergone a significant change in temperament.

The warm words just now were something he would never have heard before.

Honestly,

Wang Cheng’en truly feared the emperor might, in anger, kill Wei Zhongxian.

Granted, he himself held no fondness for Wei Zhongxian.

The latter’s notorious disruption of the court was well known.

Besides, as fellow eunuchs, a fierce rivalry existed between them.

But that was an internal competition among eunuchs.

If the emperor truly heeded the Donglin faction’s advice and executed Wei Zhongxian,

Wang Cheng’en would feel sorrow for the demise of a fox along with the death of a hare.

The most crucial point was,

if Wei Zhongxian died, upon whom could the emperor rely to balance the civil officials?

Therefore, Wei Zhongxian must not be killed lightly!

But these reasons could never be laid bare to the emperor.

He was now His Majesty.

What was needed was a servant who could carry out tasks well—not a teacher who dared to preach.

...

Half an hour later,

Wang Cheng’en led Wei Zhongxian to the outer hall.

Wei Zhongxian’s face was filled with dread and anxiety, while a subtle, barely noticeable smile played at the corners of Wang Cheng’en’s mouth.

Earlier, upon meeting, Wei Zhongxian had quietly slipped him a precious jade pendant to inquire about the emperor’s mood upon summoning him.

At first, Wang Cheng’en had been too moved by the emperor’s warm words to notice this detail.

Now, hearing Wei Zhongxian’s question, Wang Cheng’en was momentarily stunned.

He realized he could detect no trace of joy or anger in the emperor’s expression.

His Majesty had not been like this before.

This must be what the books called the inscrutable majesty of the heavens.

The emperor truly was growing into the role of a sovereign.

Heaven bless the Great Ming!

While Wang Cheng’en quietly rejoiced, Wei Zhongxian’s heart was already in his throat.

Along the way,

he kept pondering what Wang Cheng’en meant by not knowing the emperor’s mood.

Why not know? Was it unwillingness to say, or genuine ignorance?

If unwilling, did that mean the emperor had already grown to dislike and suspect him?

If ignorant, was the emperor deliberately hiding his emotions, merely waiting to mete out punishment?

Now,

gazing at the grand hall just a stone’s throw ahead, Wei Zhongxian felt as if a ferocious dragon awaited him inside.

He swallowed nervously... Your Majesty, please grant your humble servant the chance to explain!

After Wang Cheng’en reported inside,

Wei Zhongxian was led into a side chamber within the hall.

The guards and palace maids had been dismissed outside, leaving only Zhu Youjian, Wang Cheng’en, and Wei Zhongxian inside.

Summoning his courage, Wei Zhongxian stole a glance at the emperor’s sacred visage.

The young sovereign was seated at his desk, reading a scroll by candlelight.

Beside him on the desk lay a treasured sword!

Cold sweat broke out over Wei Zhongxian; he hurriedly knelt and crawled forward, his head striking the floor with loud thuds.

“Your humble servant Wei Zhongxian kowtows, praying for the emperor’s health. Long live the emperor! Long live! Long live forever!”