In the Forbidden City, the youngest consort, eighteen-year-old Shang Qinglan, was ironically granted the title "Consort of Longevity." Shang Qinglan disliked this title, privately complaining to Wei Caiwei that it "sounded too old and dreary," as if she were about to lie in a coffin.
She was clearly in the prime of her youth!
Nevertheless, in light of the old emperor bestowing upon her father the titles of "Cavalry General" and "Assistant Commander of the Right Army," Shang Qinglan accepted the title—after all, even the father of the highest-ranking Consort Wen in the Forbidden City only held the position of Assistant Commander, one rank lower than her father's.
The Jiajing Emperor sensed the approach of death. Fearful of dying, he had occupied the dragon throne for forty-five years and was not yet ready to relinquish it. The title "Longevity" was, in truth, meant for himself. The palace attendants constantly addressing Shang Qinglan as "Consort of Longevity" felt like blessings for his own long life.
The Jiajing Emperor feared death even more than the loss of imperial power. He ordered the Embroidered Uniform Guard to intensify surveillance on Prince Yu's residence, demanding daily reports.
Beyond monitoring every move of Prince Yu's household, Wang Daxia went so far as to record even the midnight snacks eaten by the guards stationed at Prince Yu's residence in his secret reports, which were first submitted to Lu Ying for review.
Lu Ying opened the thick stack of reports, which included a detailed list of groceries purchased by Prince Yu's residence that day. The dense content gave her a headache. "You don’t need to be this meticulous. It takes half a day just to read through this ledger."
Wang Daxia replied, "The more critical the time, the more we must avoid suspicion. Prince Yu has already confined himself to his residence, refusing to step beyond its gates, precisely to prevent anyone from framing him."
"Take these to Commander Zhu," Lu Ying said, flipping through the reports hastily before closing them. "Prince Yu knows his limits—he has never contended for anything. Instead, keep a close watch on Imperial Relative Li. Make sure that compulsive gambler doesn’t cause trouble again. We can’t afford another incident like the last one with the Jade Guanyin."
Wang Daxia assured her, "Our agents are stationed at Imperial Relative Li’s residence, working in three shifts day and night, providing 'close protection' to Li Wei—even accompanying him to the restroom."
Lu Ying nodded. "You’ve worked hard. Once this is over, you’ll get a long break to focus on your wedding with Doctor Wei."
The Jiajing Emperor’s health was deteriorating rapidly. Worse still, he disregarded the advice of the Imperial Hospital, consuming the "elixirs" offered by Taoist priests daily as if they were medicine, while neglecting proper herbal decoctions.
The imperial physicians pleaded in vain and were reprimanded by the emperor, so they fell silent, afraid to prescribe any more treatments—if the emperor died, they would be forced to bear the blame for the Taoists’ actions.
To deceive the death-fearing old emperor into believing that mystical arts could prolong his life, the Taoist priests fabricated various "auspicious signs." They glued a yellow ganoderma mushroom to a palace pillar, prompting the emperor to rename the hall "Jade Mushroom Palace" and offer sacrifices at the ancestral temple—even though he had not yet bestowed names upon his own grandchildren.
The Taoists also placed elixirs on the old emperor’s desk and bed, falsely claiming they were gifts from heaven. Shang Qinglan saw through these tricks, but the old emperor believed them wholeheartedly, even demanding that officials submit congratulatory memorials. Seeing the emperor’s delusion, Shang Qinglan dared not challenge his beliefs or oppose his wishes, allowing the Taoists to carry on as they pleased.
Imperial power, this colossal entity of extreme centralization, becomes perilous when its wielder only believes what he wants to believe, sees what he wants to see, and hears what he wants to hear—while dismissing all dissent as "there are always those who wish to harm me."Thus, everything around him would conform to his will, presenting only what he desired. And these very things proved his methods "correct"—using lies to validate delusions, until fantasy became reality.
The Jiajing Emperor, who had ascended the throne as a feudal prince, secured his reign at sixteen and maintained ironclad control over imperial power for over thirty years without holding court sessions. While he treated everyone as pawns, in his final moments he was fooled like an idiot by Taoist priests, believing in crude lies like heaven-sent lingzhi mushrooms and divine elixirs. He avoided medical treatment out of superstition, relying on alchemical pills that not only failed to prolong his life but hastened his demise.
Thus, everyone except the Jiajing Emperor himself believed he was beyond saving and nearing his end, all awaiting that inevitable moment.
Wang Daxia was also waiting, though he hoped it would come later. His wedding with Wei Caiwei was still set for December 27th, but the three-year mourning period had delayed it by three years.
Wang Daxia clasped his hands in prayer, looking skyward, "May heaven grant that His Majesty at least survives this New Year."
Otherwise, after observing familial mourning, they'd have to observe national mourning—when would they ever marry? He was twenty-one now, and Wei Caiwei was already twenty-five!
He'd been anticipating this day since he was fourteen. How unbearable the wait had been.
On the ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, the anniversary of his milk-brother Lu Bing's death, the Jiajing Emperor was in low spirits, grieving before Lu Bing's portrait. Aged, frail, and ill, he refused proper treatment, consuming elixirs like meals. The drugs induced excitability, flushing his skin and giving his white hair and aged face a deceptively youthful, immortal-like appearance—as if he had recovered.
But once the effects wore off, he'd immediately become listless. Lying in bed, even the weight of blankets felt oppressive, making breathing difficult, so he'd take more pills.
This cycle repeated until his body was hollowed out, leaving only a shell.
With Lan Daohang's lingchi execution as a cautionary tale, no Taoist priests dared offer medicines on Lu Bing's death anniversary. The Jiajing Emperor sat quietly before the portrait, reminiscing about his milk-brother, with only the howling north wind outside his window for company.
Seated on a meditation cushion, he couldn't even maintain his posture steadily, pain wracking his entire body. Though the priests avoided offering medicines on this day, the Emperor had ample "reserves." He opened his medicine box and swallowed a pill with cold water. After a while, finding little relief, he took two more in succession.
As the three pills took effect, a surge of heat flowed from his dantian through his organs, driving back the pain. Feeling overheated, he removed his outer robe. Even the bamboo crown binding his hair seemed to pull at his scalp, so he took it off, letting his gray-white hair cascade loose to his waist. Finally, he felt comfortable.
In his dazed state, the Jiajing Emperor heard hoofbeats. Pushing the door open to gaze into the distance, he saw a figure in a rain cloak and red felt hat riding an Akhal-Teke horse swift as lightning, galloping toward him.
It was his milk-brother Lu Bing. In the past, whenever the Emperor summoned him to the palace for counsel—regardless of festival, weather, time, or even midnight—Lu Bing would arrive without fail, braving wind and rain. Whenever his milk-brother appeared, any tricky problem could be resolved, any crisis overcome.
Ignoring the snowstorm outside, the Jiajing Emperor rushed out. In that moment, aging and sickness vanished—white hair, wrinkles, hunched back, arthritic legs, sagging skin—all disappeared. He transformed into a vibrant youth with black hair, red lips, and dewy skin.He was still that fifteen-year-old minor prince from Anlu, Hubei, whose greatest dream was to someday leave his feudal domain and see the outside world.
The two met on a palace path amidst swirling snow. Lu Bing reached out from his Akhal-Teke horse, "Your Highness, I've come to take you home."
This must be a dream. The Xian Prince's residence in Anlu, Hubei was a place the Jiajing Emperor had desperately wanted to escape in his youth, yet in his twilight years, it had become the place he most longed to return to.
Let's go home, back to where it all began beautifully (Note 1).
The Jiajing Emperor grasped Lu Bing's hand, his body lifting into the air as he settled behind Lu Bing, just like old times, tightly wrapping his arms around his foster brother's waist.
Lu Bing urged the horse forward, the thousand-li Akhal-Teke flying like the wind. As they galloped, the cold snow beneath the hooves gradually transformed into Anlu's rice fields, the air carrying a faint aroma of rice. The snowy day turned into a summer night, with discussions of harvest in the rice flower fragrance and choruses of frog songs everywhere, while glowing fireflies shimmered with green light all around.
The Jiajing Emperor reached out and caught a firefly, which glowed brightly within his fist, emitting green light through his fingers.
Lu Bing asked, "How many fireflies has Your Highness caught?"
The Jiajing Emperor opened his hand, and three fireflies flew out from his palm. The young Jiajing Emperor and Lu Bing jumped off the horse together to chase the fireflies. As they chased, they transformed from youths into two young children, smearing mud on each other's faces until they became two mud-covered figures...
Huang Jin, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs, hadn't heard the Jiajing Emperor call for anyone inside for a long time and didn't dare disturb him. By noon, when it was time for lunch, there was still no movement.
Not wanting the emperor to go hungry, Huang Jin boldly pushed the door open and entered. He saw the Jiajing Emperor wearing only a single layer of clothing, with disheveled hair and even his shoes and socks removed, as if it were summer, lying face up on a rush mat.
This scene was familiar to Huang Jin. After taking the elixirs, the body would generate heat, the skin would become sensitive and painful to the touch, requiring the removal of clothing and loosening of hair to disperse the medicinal effects.
Huang Jin quickly helped the Jiajing Emperor up, "Your Majesty, the floor is cold."
But this time, the Jiajing Emperor gave no response. Huang Jin realized something was wrong and immediately called for the imperial physicians.
The imperial physicians were helpless against the Jiajing Emperor's condition. With his energy exhausted like an oil-depleted lamp, not even immortals could save him. None dared to treat him aggressively, fearing they would be held responsible.
Grand Secretary Xu Jie detained all the Daoist priests who had presented elixirs and comforted the imperial physicians: "Treat him without restraint. The Emperor's condition was ruined by these sorcerous Daoists—it has nothing to do with you."
With the Grand Secretary's assurance, the imperial physicians used their skills to treat the Jiajing Emperor. If he lived, they would be credited; if he died, the Daoist priests would bear the responsibility.
Xu Jie needed to preserve the old emperor's life because a country cannot be without a ruler for even a day. With the emperor unconscious, Prince Yu, as the de facto heir, needed to begin his duties of supervising the state.
Once Prince Yu supervised the state, he could legitimately issue orders, wield authority, and ensure a smooth transition of imperial power. Therefore, the Jiajing Emperor could not die yet.
Prince Yu entered the palace under the escort of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
Wang Daxia, fearing mishaps, ordered his subordinates to closely guard Lu Jingfei, the birth mother of Prince Jinggong (yes, she was still alive), just like they monitored the inveterate gambler Li Wei—even following her to the toilet—to ensure Prince Yu's safety in the Forbidden City.
Only eighteen days until my wedding—old emperor, you must hold on!
Meanwhile, Wei Caiwei from Tianshui Lane remained calm. Ever since Consort Shangshou told her that the old emperor had started abusing elixirs, she knew that in this lifetime, the Jiajing Emperor would repeat his mistakes and not survive the year.Fortunately, as subjects, the national mourning period lasts one hundred days, meaning the wedding would be postponed by roughly three months. Having waited three years and then another three, three more months made little difference.
Forbidden City, Western Park.
"Your Highness Prince Yu, the draft of the imperial edict is complete. Please review it." Grand Secretariat Chief Xu Jie presented the "imperial edict" of the Jiajing Emperor to Prince Yu.
The Jiajing Emperor had not yet breathed his last, lying in a deathlike slumber. Even in his coma, he had refused to designate his only son, Prince Yu, as crown prince, fearing the dilution of his imperial authority—and thus had left no so-called edict in advance.
The Jiajing Emperor was now a puppet, with no say in what the edict contained.
Prince Yu unrolled the draft. "We, of the imperial lineage, inherited the throne and served the ancestral temple for forty-five years... Our son Prince Yu, endowed by heaven with benevolence and filial piety, wise and accomplished from youth, upholding ancestral teachings above and conforming to popular sentiment below, shall ascend the imperial throne."
It was a standard edict—asserting legitimacy, naming the successor, concise and clear.
But for Prince Yu, it was insufficient. Gazing at the frail, helpless figure on the dragon bed, resembling an infant, three decades of pent-up grievances and rage erupted within him. Seizing a brush, he swiftly added to the draft in the Jiajing Emperor’s voice, first delivering a scathing rebuke of the old emperor:
"...In pursuit of immortality, We allowed deceitful opportunists to exploit Our credulity... neglecting sacrifices at the altars, long abandoning court lectures...Every time I think of it, I am filled with regret..."
After this condemnation, Prince Yu continued: "From Our accession to the present, all officials unjustly punished for their counsel shall be recalled if living, and posthumously honored if deceased. Those imprisoned shall be released and reinstated. Alchemists and charlatans shall be investigated and punished according to their crimes. All wasteful practices such as Taoist rites and extravagant procurements that burden the people shall cease."
This meant: reverse all unjust persecutions since the Jiajing Emperor’s reign, reinstate the wronged officials, and conduct thorough rehabilitations; execute the notorious Taoists; halt all projects related to cultivating immortality.
Finished, Prince Yu handed the revised edict to Xu Jie. "Refine this."
Xu Jie unrolled it. The opening—a son chastising his father—vented years of resentment. But the three new policies that followed were profound. The first: redress injustices and reappoint old ministers to win hearts. The second: severely punish the long-unchecked Taoists to satisfy public sentiment. The third: abolish Taoist temples and rituals across the Forbidden City to curb expenditures.
With these three decrees, the empire would rally behind him! This Prince Yu had substance.
Author's Note:
Note 1: "Return home, to the original beauty" — Jay Chou's "Rice Fragrance"
The chapter title for Lu Bing's departure in this book is "The Original Vow." The Jiajing Emperor's departure being "The Original Beauty" creates a distant echo.
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