Chapter Eighteen: The Rising Sun Illuminates the East

It is often said: those who stay near vermilion become red, those near ink become black.

Chen Shigong, Imperial Physician Chen, had long dealt with the demons and fiends of the Ming Dynasty. The more he dealt with them, the more he himself became like a fiend. Of course, Imperial Physician Chen comforted himself: The emperor said it was all for the sake of Ming’s medicine!

One must be adept at compromising with oneself.

Zhu Yijun had originally intended to observe Chen Shigong’s dissection techniques, especially the treatment of appendicitis in this era—a rare and remarkable feat. How to anesthetize, how to cut open, how to suture, how to disinfect, how to clean and change dressings—if the Ming Dynasty could accomplish such things in the Wanli years, naturally he was very curious how Chen Shigong managed it.

But when Zhu Yijun saw Zhang Juzheng’s fiery glare, he decisively chose to return to the palace to practice martial arts instead.

If the young emperor continued watching, Zhang Juzheng would surely perform the utmost obeisance—five bows and three kowtows—vehemently offering blunt remonstrance over such a trivial matter, making it seem as if the world were about to end.

Was it not just to see how the dissection was done?

Zhu Yijun was not afraid of Zhang Juzheng’s nagging; rather, the dissection institute was just getting started. If the emperor insisted on personally witnessing dissections and the institute was disbanded as a result, Zhu Yijun could never accept that.

Back at the palace, Feng Bao selectively reported the external affairs, omitting the emperor’s words. The imperial edict was clear: do not let the Empress Dowager worry. As Grand Tutor, Feng Bao’s foremost task was to precisely understand the emperor’s will and grasp the essentials—only then could the ancestral legacy endure.

Thus, the bright and cheerful image of the young emperor required Feng Bao to carefully maintain it in his memorials, omitting unnecessary details, smoothing over certain aspects with subtle literary artistry, and emphasizing what needed to be highlighted.

Feng Bao respectfully recounted: “When the accused trembled in fear, His Majesty addressed Imperial Physician Chen Shigong, saying: ‘May the blessings of the great healer extend over the four seas and eight directions; may the radiance of medicine bathe the heavens and earth. May the people be granted longevity and health, and harmony summoned beneath the vast firmament!’”

“‘Long live the Empress Dowager! This is truly His Majesty’s grand wish to bless all the people!’”

“Zhang Yuanfu’s expression grew complex, looking at His Majesty with a hint of hope. The ministers whispered among themselves, many discussing this phrase. Both civil and military officials eagerly awaited the revival of imperial governance under a wise ruler.”

“Imperial Physician Chen knelt and accepted the decree, receiving the sacred command to continue the legacy of the great healer Qisheng’s lineage. Surely, he will accomplish much in the days to come.”

Feng Bao did not wish to worsen the emperor’s impression of him. He had previously shown some disrespect; if his image deteriorated further, might he be sent to the dissection institute? That would be worse than death.

Today the emperor was like a little judge of the underworld, uttering the harshest words with the brightest smile.

“Indeed, that Wang Zhanglong was truly vile, a villain who trampled on human life. Beheading and displaying him was too lenient; sending him to the dissection institute was fitting.” Empress Dowager Li, who had risen from palace maid to empress, understood the sufferings of common folk. If there were ways to help, which parents would heartlessly send their children into the palace?

Like the palace gates, deep as the sea—henceforth, high walls severed ties with the mundane world.

Wang Zhanglong had killed the entire Chen family of three in his hometown, was a bandit in Shandong, infamous for theft and gambling. Sending him to the dissection institute made his punishment more palatable.

Empress Dowager Li did not want to see children shed blood, yet the fact that the child went to the dissection institute showed the court officials the emperor’s character—he was no coward.

What of the assassination attempt on the emperor? The emperor showed courage by personally visiting the dissection institute, even meeting the would-be assassin face to face.

That traitorous villain Wang Zhanglong initially remained defiant, but after a few words from the emperor was left incoherent, reduced to begging for mercy.

Imperial authority is not built in a day; it accumulates bit by bit.

“Where does the phrase ‘the four seas and eight directions, bathing the heavens and earth, granting longevity and harmony to the people’ come from?” Empress Dowager Li asked curiously. Could a ten-year-old emperor really speak such words?

“It comes from the ‘Ministry of Rites’ Hu Wei, who served during the Yongle to Jingtai periods, author of ‘Hygiene and Simple Prescriptions.’ The Imperial Medical Department’s deputy director once cited this phrase in a memorial concerning the dissection institute. His Majesty saw this memorial today at Wenhua Hall during court and found it fitting, hence memorized it,” Feng Bao hastily explained.

After returning to the palace, Feng Bao found the phrase remarkably well composed—could such words really come from a ten-year-old child?

He had a minor eunuch from the Directorate of Ceremonial search for the source and discovered the phrase was indeed in the Imperial Medical Department’s memorial, which lay on the imperial desk that very day.

“Maidens who left the Qianqing Palace to purchase goods had heard rumors in the alleys that the ten-year-old emperor, who had been studying for six months, merely flipped through books without reading, illiterate,” they whispered.

“Hmph, surely those court scholars’ idle chatter with servants at home spread such nonsense. Their teaching was poor, blaming the emperor’s lack of talent. Is it the teaching that is deficient, or the emperor’s own effort?” Empress Dowager Li, upon hearing this, was angered.

The palace maids returning from shopping outside Qianqing Palace whispered this prophecy, only to be overheard by the Empress Dowager.

She dared not inquire too deeply, for the emperor’s studies were indeed lacking; asking would only invite humiliation, while silence only bred frustration.

Now, at last, the tension eased.

Feng Bao angrily declared, “What nonsense! His Majesty possesses heavenly wisdom. To criticize the imperial carriage is a grave crime of disrespect! Once I investigate, I shall tear them apart with my words!”

Empress Dowager Li smiled and waved him off: “No need. Truth and justice will be judged by others. Those who are truly disgraced are the ministers themselves.”

Now it was clear: every word of His Majesty was well reasoned. If the court scholars could not teach it, and Zhang Juzheng could, then the fault was obvious.

The shadow over Empress Dowager Li’s heart finally began to lift, leaving only a cloud. Her young son practicing martial arts seemed somewhat wayward.

Zhu Yijun trained earnestly; he needed to protect himself. Even his six-year-old nephew in the future would know this truth:

To live is to contribute.

Zhu Xixiao was very pleased with Zhu Yijun’s progress. The other young eunuchs who sparred with the emperor did so under compulsion; accompanying the emperor in martial arts required utmost caution and seriousness.

But the emperor himself trained willingly. Seeing the young emperor sweat profusely stirred a faint hope within Zhu Xixiao: Could the Ming once again produce a warrior king?

This hope was quickly dispelled. His Majesty trained only to have the ability to escape assassins. Born noble, why labor so hard? Before long, the Empress Dowager would issue an edict to end the emperor’s martial training.

Zhu Yijun was unaware of Zhu Xixiao’s thoughts. Though exhausted and drenched in sweat, on the third day of training his limp finally disappeared.

Youth is indeed a blessing.

He stood upright, saluted, and thus concluded the day’s lessons.

When court scholars lectured, or when Zhang Juzheng lectured, Zhu Yijun would slightly bow to show respect. Were martial arts teachers not teachers as well?

Zhu Xixiao hurriedly returned the salute, wanting to offer some praise but, lacking literary skill, could not speak eloquently. Civil officials who flattered could chant rhymed phrases for days without repetition. In this respect, military men were indeed inferior.

“Mother,” Zhu Yijun flashed his signature smile.

The bright and cheerful young emperor’s smile, paired with his slightly chubby face, was quite deceptive.

“Today, my son has done well. If martial training tires you, then stop. The court situation has finally stabilized some,” Empress Dowager Li said, feeling some pity for the child’s hardship, and advised him to give up martial arts.

Zhu Yijun shook his head and replied, “‘The Analects,’ Chapter on Taibo, says: ‘Zengzi said: A scholar cannot but be broad and resolute, bearing heavy responsibilities and traveling a long way. To take benevolence as one’s duty—is it not a heavy burden? To rest only at death—is it not a long journey?’”

“Master Zhang’s explanation says: Broad and resolute means having great strength and perseverance, capable of handling heavy responsibilities and enduring far. Being steadfast enables one to reach distant goals.”

“Fan Zhongyan of the Northern Song once said: ‘Be anxious before the world is anxious, and rejoice after the world rejoices.’ Having the world in one’s heart is called broadness; having only selfish interests is narrow-mindedness.”

“To undertake a task with clear goals and persistence, beginning and completing every matter—that is resolve. Without constancy, one becomes weak and timid, losing courage to face difficulties.”

Empress Dowager Li was silent for a moment, then said, “Zhang Juzheng is truly a great talent. Today I finally understand the meaning of ‘broad and resolute’.”

It was the first time she had learned the meaning of these words. Zhang Juzheng’s interpretation was penetrating—not merely teaching the sage’s doctrines but instructing on conduct, even guiding the emperor to discern loyalty from treachery.

“How did the young emperor interpret it?” she asked eagerly.

Zhu Yijun smiled: “I asked Master Zhang: What if one is broad but not resolute? He answered: Without rules, one cannot establish oneself; with lofty ideals but no skill, one achieves nothing. If one holds high office, one becomes a talkative theorist, a mere babbler, harming the nation.”

“I asked: What if one is resolute but not broad? He answered: Narrow and selfish, caring only for oneself. If one holds high office thus, one is a traitor to the country. If administrators are selfish yet unwavering, the nation faces great peril.”

“I asked: The millions sustain me alone—is that not a heavy burden? He replied: As heavy as Mount Tai.”

“I asked: The Ming’s power declines daily—is the road not long? He answered: The road is long and obstructed.”

“I interpreted: The millions sustain me alone; the burden is as heavy as a mountain, so I must care for all under heaven. The Ming’s borders are unstable and dangerous; the road is long and impeded, so I must remain steadfast.”

“To say: Millions sustain, burden heavy as mountains; as long as breath remains, this will is unrelenting. Without breadth and resolve, one is a weak coward.”

“Master Zhang was silent for a long time, then said: Your Majesty perceives the smallest sign and knows its root, sees the beginning and understands the end. I see the rising sun dazzling the east; how can I not devote my life and will to this cause, unyielding as long as breath remains?”

Zhu Yijun declared firmly: “I keep this in my heart. Martial training is not very tiring and has its own pleasures.”

“I do not wish to be without beginning or end, without breadth or resolve, a coward.”

Empress Dowager Li felt guilty for thinking her son’s martial training was too strenuous. By trying to prevent his fatigue, she feared she made the Ming emperor into a coward. This unfounded guilt weighed on her heart.

“If you do not mind the hardship, then continue learning,” she resolved, deciding not to dissuade him again. Otherwise, she felt she would become a malevolent woman who hindered Ming’s emperor from becoming great.

“What did you learn today?” she continued to examine his lessons.

Zhu Yijun recounted the day’s study following the structure of the classics, Zhang Juzheng’s annotations, his own understanding, and Zhang’s evaluation.

The more he spoke, the more curious he grew—Empress Dowager Li listened mostly in silence, rarely commenting. Was she testing him or learning herself?

The young emperor did not dwell on this difference, treating it as review, so as not to fail the monthly exams and bring shame for neglecting his duties. Exams must be passed regardless.

Empress Dowager Li, still not forty, had read only the “Lessons for Women.” She was indeed learning—how to discern right from wrong, loyalty from treachery. At least before the young emperor assumed full power, Ming must not become chaotic and riddled with flaws under her watch.

This was her duty as mother and as Empress Dowager.

Listening to her son speak earnestly brought her great comfort. At supper, she specially ordered Palace Eunuch Zhang Hong from Qianqing Palace to add two extra dishes.

Zhu Yijun picked up one dish, his face serious as he asked, “What is this?”