The Yuan Dynasty’s ritual and music had collapsed, and palace management was even more chaotic. There were frequent scandals of emperors dragging ministers’ wives onto the dragon bed when they came to the palace to pay respects to the empress. Palace consorts used any means necessary to compete for favor and rise in rank, hoping to gain status through their children. Palace maids and eunuchs participated in this, wielding power, and those who rose quickly pulled away the ladder, strictly controlling “family planning” in the palace—abortions and miscarriages were commonplace.
At the end of the Yuan Dynasty, Empress Qi, born a Korean slave, joined forces with Park Bulhwa, also a Korean eunuch slave, to carve out a bloody path through palace struggles. She gained favor, bore a son, was made empress, and her son was named crown prince. To consolidate her power, she chose a Korean woman with no background as the crown prince’s consort.
For Empress Qi, the Korean woman was an easily controlled crown princess. But for the crown prince, this meant losing the strengthening support of powerful in-laws, making his position as heir unstable. Harem intrigue became increasingly fierce, palace struggles intensified, completely oblivious to the Ming’s Northern Expedition army approaching their gates.
When Xu Da led the Northern Expedition to attack the Yuan capital, the Yuan Emperor simply abandoned the city and surrendered, fleeing with his ministers and consorts—only Crown Prince Maidir Balad fell into the harem’s trap and was captured by the Ming during their escape, brought to the capital as a hostage.
Even when the nation was destroyed, palace struggles wouldn’t stop. Accustomed to mutual slaughter in the harem, with eyes only on imperial favor and the heir’s position, they had no reaction to the nation’s fate, no sense of right and wrong or the big picture. When the country was about to fall, their first reaction wasn’t to unite, but to push out the crown prince as the great mansion collapsed, using Ming hands to kill the heir so their own sons could have a chance to rise.
Emperor Hongwu certainly wouldn’t be used as someone’s weapon. He carefully cultivated the hostage Maidir Balad, even letting him study alongside his own sons at the Grand Academy. When the Yuan Emperor died, Emperor Hongwu sent people to escort Maidir Balad back to Northern Yuan under the pretext of funeral arrangements to compete for the throne with his uncles. Northern Yuan frequently experienced coups and internal chaos—a chaotic Northern Yuan was a good Northern Yuan, letting them destroy themselves would make them perish faster.
Palace struggles harmed the nation—a lesson from the past. Therefore, Emperor Hongwu strictly managed the harem, entrusting harem authority to Empress Xiaoci and the Six Bureaus and One Department. Other consorts only needed to enjoy wealth, bear and raise children, and were not permitted to touch power. Former high minister Hu Mei merely spied on the court and planted informants around Noble Consort Hu, only to have Emperor Hongwu eliminate his entire clan under the charge of “Hu Mei’s Palace Disruption Case”—this wouldn’t have mattered at all in the Yuan Dynasty.
But Emperor Hongwu calculated everything, creating a prosperous, civilized, and harmonious harem, never expecting that Empress Xiaoci would pass away at only fifty-one…
With no mistress in the harem, there were frequent disturbances, especially when Imperial Consort Guo Ning immediately used the tactic of “sending people out of the palace” to eliminate dissidents. This made Emperor Hongwu doubt both her ability and character, so he simply had two usually obedient and compliant consorts who managed nothing besides childbearing—Imperial Consorts Guo Hui and Da Ding—”assist” Imperial Consort Guo Ning in managing affairs.
Three legs supporting a tripod, mutually balancing each other, with the Six Bureaus and One Department assisting—surely the harem would be relatively stable.
As for Imperial Consorts Guo Hui and Da Ding’s unbearable pasts… so many years had passed, they’d borne piles of children—it should be fine.
In the evening, Emperor Hongwu returned to the Forbidden City with his massive harem entourage. People discovered one extra person among the accompanying personnel—Hu Shanwei.
Imperial Consort Guo Ning deliberately pulled Hu Shanwei to her side, speaking warmly. Shanggong Cao, who was respectfully welcoming everyone back at the entrance, was blooming with joy inside while maintaining a cold exterior.
Shangyi Cui smiled radiantly, bowing with a slight smile.
Gongzheng Fan’s expression remained normal, as if Hu Shanwei had never left the court but had simply gone on a distant assignment. She hadn’t misjudged—someone like Hu Shanwei was naturally born for the court.
For Hu Shanwei, after a year’s absence, everything in the palace remained the same except for the lack of an empress. Even Hu Shanwei’s residence was kept exactly as before with no new occupant. Hai Tang rolled up her sleeves eagerly: “The dust inside has probably piled three feet high. Why don’t you visit Instructor Shen while I finish cleaning?”
Hu Shanwei rolled up her sleeves: “Let’s do it together. I’m used to working at the Xiaoling Mausoleum—why should I become pampered just because I’m back at the palace?”
But when they reached the courtyard gate, they found the main door unlocked and the vermillion gate appeared freshly painted, gleaming brightly.
With a creak, the door opened to reveal Huang Weide with a cloth wrapped around her head to keep off dust and an apron tied on: “Hearing from Jiang Quan that Imperial Consort Guo Ning went to the Xiaoling Mausoleum to invite Siyan Hu back to the palace, I got the key from the key-keeper female official and came to tidy up first. I’ve finished cleaning and washing, changed the bedding for new ones. Only the swing frame in the courtyard was somewhat rotted and unsafe, so I had the young eunuchs dismantle and carry it away, preparing to replace it with a new one.”
Huang Weide spoke calmly, her expression almost identical to Gongzheng Fan’s, as if Hu Shanwei had never truly left the court but had simply been on assignment.
Huang Weide sensed that Hu Shanwei would return. Someone who had once shone like a star wouldn’t remain buried at the Xiaoling Mausoleum forever.
Even Hu Shanwei felt this way. From the first step through the palace gate, an inexplicable sense of belonging rose in her heart. Every inch of skin and her mind awakened. She grew increasingly excited, already eager to begin her Siyan work.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Hu Shanwei said, stepping through the main gate and looking at the impression left by the swing frame in the courtyard. Two years ago, due to Noble Consort Chengmu’s funeral arrangements, she nearly had her eyes gouged out by Emperor Hongwu. After wisely proposing the “parents equally honored” suggestion, she escaped unharmed. Upon returning, she was quite frightened and sat on the swing holding Mu Chun’s waist—she didn’t know for how long until she regained her strength.
Now that Empress Xiaoci had passed away and Mu Chun returned to the capital, as an external minister, he couldn’t enter the harem. Palace walls separated them layer by layer. If she had known that Mu Chun’s nonsense about peacock mating season would be their last private meeting, she wouldn’t have spoken so coldly to him that day.
“No need for the swing,” Hu Shanwei said. “It’s better empty—looks more spacious.”
Mu Chun couldn’t enter the palace. Building a new swing would inevitably make her think of him frequently, only adding regret.
The gap in status between her and Mu Chun was too great. Mu Chun would soon be formally invested as heir to the Marquis Xiping. With his position, he would certainly marry a noble lady as his wife. For her to be with him, she could only be a concubine.
Hu Shanwei was fond of Mu Chun, but she wouldn’t compromise herself to be with him. To be a concubine in the Xiping Marquis mansion where she disliked everyone except Mu Chun—she couldn’t move into a forest just for one tree, or she’d be devoured by wild beasts.
Indeed, some things could only be realized in dreams—in reality, they were mere wishful thinking.
The next day, Emperor Hongwu issued an edict investing Mu Chun as heir to the Marquis Xiping.
When the imperial edict reached the Xiping Marquis mansion, Lady Geng was dumbfounded. Previously, her son Mu Sheng had accompanied his father on the southern campaign, repeatedly achieving merit and gaining his father’s favor. He often said, “This son most resembles me.”
Mu Ying liked his second son without disguising his preference.
The southern campaign army also spoke highly of Mu Sheng. Lady Geng, including her maternal family the Chang Xing Marquis mansion, had harbored hopes for the heir position.
But with Emperor Hongwu’s single edict, the Geng family lost even this aspiration.
Once the news broke, Mu family relatives sent congratulatory gifts in succession, especially from Mu Chun’s maternal uncle the Duke Yingguo mansion, great-uncle the Duke Songguo mansion, and the Duke Weiguo mansion that had become in-laws two years ago also sent generous gifts. Since both the Feng and Mu families were prolific, after over ten years of intermarriage, most of the capital’s noble families had some connection. Congratulatory gifts arrived continuously throughout the day.
Lady Geng forced a smile while arranging celebratory banquets. Her mother, Lady Chang Xing Marquis, personally came to deliver gifts and comfort her daughter: “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Don’t be sad—Sheng’er is capable and will earn his own marquisate through merit in the future.”
Lady Geng sighed: “I’ve come to terms with it, but now there’s another troublesome matter: Mu Chun is already twenty, the national mourning has passed, he’s returned to the capital and been invested as heir. Many matchmakers have approached me asking about Mu Chun’s marriage. Being a stepmother is difficult! With the family’s eldest son still a bachelor at twenty, people gossip behind our backs, saying I’m delaying my stepson’s marriage. Actually, I’d love nothing more than to marry him off quickly to help me manage the marquis mansion’s affairs, but can I make that decision? When I tentatively brought it up today, his eyes glared and he said ‘No need for Madam to worry’ before storming out. I don’t know where he went.”
Lady Chang Xing Marquis said: “Write to your son-in-law quickly and ask about Mu Chun’s marriage. Just tell the matchmakers that the eldest son’s marriage is decided by his father—kick the ball away and that’s that.”
Lady Geng cared too much about face to accept hardship: “I’m his mother. Since ancient times, marriage is decided by parents’ command and matchmaker’s words. If I directly say I can’t arrange Mu Chun’s marriage, where would I put my face?”
Lady Chang Xing Marquis advised: “Would people not know if you don’t say it directly?”
Before her mother, Lady Geng didn’t need to pretend virtue and magnanimity. She twisted her body: “Mother, whose side are you on? Why do you keep hitting my sore spots?”
Lady Chang Xing Marquis had no choice but to comfort her daughter without mentioning it further.
At this moment, Mu Chun sat on a roadside with a bowl of murky yellow wine, drinking while watching passersby. The roadside tavern had no good wine and very few stools. Mu Chun naturally possessed rogue and ruffian qualities. Squatting while casually shaking his left leg, he blended in with laborers and idlers without seeming out of place.
Whenever Mu Chun was in a bad mood, he would mingle on the streets to drown his sorrows. Sister Shanwei had suddenly returned to court without even greeting him. Now that Empress Xiaoci had passed away, he had no legitimate excuse to enter the palace, and contact was completely severed.
A drinking companion beside him consoled: “Family fortune declined? No matter—you’ll get used to being poor. My ancestors were once wealthy too.”
Not at all. Promotion and ennoblement should be life’s joys, but he wasn’t happy. He understood very well that being heir meant being a hostage. His father was demonstrating loyalty to Emperor Hongwu by keeping him in the capital, so father and second brother could safely guard Yunnan.
Since meeting Hu Shanwei, Mu Chun no longer wanted to inherit his family’s title. He wanted to earn his future through his own merit, breaking free from family constraints. His increasingly bold behavior before his father, even the streaking incident, was to force his father to give up and let his second brother become heir instead.
But the more he didn’t want it, the more his father insisted on giving it to him. Becoming heir made him the Mu family’s successor, bound by family and responsibility. Achieving the beautiful dream he’d dreamed countless times would become even harder.
As Mu Chun brooded, Ji Gang arrived with a group of plainclothes Embroidered Uniform Guards searching along the road, finally “dragging” Mu Chun out of the roadside tavern.
“You’re still hiding here drinking? His Majesty summoned you to the palace. We went to deliver the oral decree to the Xiping Marquis mansion and have been searching for you half the day.”
Having been colleagues before, Ji Gang knew Mu Chun’s habits and led people to search various fly-specked taverns along the street.
Mu Chun entered the palace. In the imperial study stood a tower-like military man—none other than General Guo Xing, Marquis Gongchang, commander of the Twelve Guards of the Imperial Army, commonly known as the Imperial Guards—Imperial Consort Guo Ning’s elder brother.
The Twelve Guards of the Imperial Army guarded the imperial palace’s forbidden areas, hence commonly called Imperial Guards. Mu Chun had previously served as commander of one of the twelve guards—the Right Yulin Guard—and had been Guo Xing’s subordinate. They were all old acquaintances.
Emperor Hongwu spoke with apparent criticism but implicit praise: “Since returning from the southern campaign, you’ve been idle with nothing to do. When I want to find you, I have to send Embroidered Uniform Guards searching the streets. From today, follow Marquis Gongchang as a deputy general. Marquis Gongchang, I know Mu Chun has been unruly since childhood. If he doesn’t obey, just use military discipline on him—no need to ask me.”
Only intimate relationships would warrant saying “beat him as you like.” Now with Imperial Consort Guo Ning managing the harem and her elder brother commanding the Imperial Guards, Emperor Hongwu trusted the Guo family for their merit in following the dragon, but when it came to balance, he showed no mercy. Mu Chun was nominally deputy general but actually Emperor Hongwu’s informant.
Marquis Gongchang Guo Xing naturally understood Emperor Hongwu’s meaning: “Mu Chun is talented among the Ming’s younger generation of generals. I’ve heard Duke Weiguo praise him, and he was also outstanding when serving as Right Yulin Guard commander under my command. It’s just that having the dignified Xiping Marquis heir serve as my deputy general truly honors me too much.”
Mu Chun was ecstatic: Being deputy general of the Imperial Guards meant he could enter and exit the court to see Sister Shanwei!
Mu Chun quickly said: “Not honoring at all—not the slightest bit! I hope Marquis Gongchang will provide much guidance in the future!”