Who would have thought that thirty-eight-year-old Hu Shanwei would start bringing down nations!

Mu Chun quickly said, “Don’t believe his one-sided words. The more handsome a man is, the more he lies. He’s no longer the Ji Gang of the past—the current Ji Gang is thoroughly bad.”

Ji Gang chuckled, “I was never really a good person, but I’ve never done anything to wrong you or harm you.”

Mu Chun began counting on his fingers to make a list: “How haven’t you harmed her? Setting aside the small matters, let’s only count the big ones. When Shanwei first entered the palace, who put peach blossom powder in the osmanthus cakes, trying to get her expelled from the palace?”

Ji Gang’s handsome face reddened, “Commander Mao ordered it—how could I disobey? Working in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, one’s body isn’t one’s own.”

“Fine, let’s say you were still young then and didn’t understand. But—” Mu Chun extended his second finger, “When investigating the truth behind Prince Lu Huang’s death in Yanzhou, who immediately sent a secret report to Emperor Gaozhu once the truth was discovered, causing Shanwei to be threatened by Emperor Gaozhu that her entire family would be killed if she leaked the secret? By then, Officer Ji had already been promoted to Chiliarch—Commander Mao didn’t order that, did he?”

The former unreasonable demon king of the capital had surprisingly stopped relying on fists or playing rogue, instead using his brain and mouth to reason with people.

Ji Gang was immediately at a loss for words.

Very satisfied with his gentlemanly performance of using words instead of fists, Mu Chun said to Hu Shanwei, “Did you hear that? Never trust the sweet words of handsome men. You must look at what he does, not what he says.”

After thinking it over, Hu Shanwei decided to trust her husband.

Ji Gang became anxious, “If you don’t trust me, you can have Mu Chun investigate Minister Bao to see if I’m lying to you. Court Lady Fan died so miserably—I’m also very distressed. We were colleagues for so many years, so there are some feelings. Before Commander Mao was subjected to lingchi, it was Court Lady Fan who obtained anesthetic from the Bureau of Medicines and had Jiang Quan deliver it to the death cell, so Commander Mao wouldn’t suffer so much in death. I, Ji Gang, repay grievances with grievances and revenge with revenge. Shanwei, regarding Court Lady Fan’s death, we are absolutely on the same boat.”

Hu Shanwei thought for a moment, then said to Mu Chun, “Court Lady Fan showed me great kindness in recognizing my talents. Moreover, when I was eager to leave the palace to marry you and live in seclusion, it was Court Lady Fan who took over, allowing me to escape unscathed. Without her, the person who died in the shipwreck would probably have been me. Go investigate Minister Bao. If what Ji Gang says is true—that the ruler is tyrannical, foolish, narrow-minded, hypocritical and vicious, not even sparing female officials who only seek self-preservation; that the Empress Dowager has a heart like a snake and scorpion, treating human life as grass, capable of doing anything for power, including overthrowing her own son’s throne; that ministers curry favor with superiors regardless of right and wrong, leaving wronged souls in the river… such a nation…”

Hu Shanwei paused, her gaze turning cold as she said, “It wouldn’t matter to bring it down.”

Hu Shanwei rushed back just as the rear palace was about to be locked for the night. Before she could eat dinner, a young eunuch came to request that the Empress Dowager at Cining Palace wanted Court Lady Hu to come play chess to relieve boredom.

Recently, Prince Heng had been coming to the palace almost daily to fulfill his filial duties at Cining Palace. The mother and son had probably discussed matters sufficiently—this was forcing Hu Shanwei to give a definite answer.

According to the Empress Dowager’s usual character, Hu Shanwei would either be used by her or destroyed by her. Those who obeyed her prospered, those who opposed her perished. The Empress Dowager only needed to reveal to Emperor Jianwen that Hu Shanwei knew about Court Lady Fan’s death to put Shanwei in mortal danger.

Hu Shanwei said, “Go back and tell the Empress Dowager that I’ll come over after changing clothes.”

You want it? Then I’ll give it to you. Just afraid you can’t handle it and will have to bear the consequences.

At Cining Palace.

Empress Dowager Lu and Hu Shanwei sat facing each other with a chess board between them.

Empress Dowager Lu asked, “Has Court Lady Hu thought it through?”

Hu Shanwei countered, “Do I still have a choice?”

Empress Dowager Lu placed a black piece, “You can choose to die.”

Hu Shanwei placed a white piece, “What does the Empress Dowager want me to do?”

Empress Dowager Lu handed her a list, “Currently the rear palace has only eight masters, but there are too many redundant palace servants. Next year we’ll start using the new era name ‘Jianwen.’ I hear His Majesty will announce a great amnesty at the New Year’s Day grand court assembly, releasing a large batch of old palace servants or palace maids and female officials who wish to leave the palace to seek marriage. Firstly, this reduces the rear palace’s expenses; secondly, it shows the new emperor’s benevolence upon ascending the throne. At that time, some new people will be selected to enter the palace. You must ensure the people on this list can enter.”

Hu Shanwei glanced at the list, “That’s all?”

Empress Dowager Lu smiled, “For now, this is all you need to do.”

Hu Shanwei smiled lightly and, without even looking, pushed the list back, “The Empress Dowager and Prince Heng obviously don’t consider me one of your own. When you mother and son succeed in your uprising, you’ll kick me aside. I’ll have grievances with nowhere to voice them. Since you want me to join, I must know how you plan to act and when you’ll make your move. Every time the Empress Dowager and Prince Heng have important matters to discuss, I must be present. Otherwise, there’s nothing to discuss.”

Empress Dowager Lu laughed heartily, “This is the Shangguan Wan’er I value—not some submissive person. Good, I agree to your terms.”

The two played chess. Hu Shanwei discovered that Empress Dowager Lu was quite skilled, calculating every move. She had to use all her lifelong learning, fighting and killing on the black and white board, barely managing to win one game.

By now the night was deep. They cleared the chess board and ate a late-night snack. Empress Dowager Lu, drinking lotus seed soup, said, “From today’s game, I discover that Court Lady Hu is quite competitive.”

In their first game, Hu Shanwei hadn’t given her face, steadily advancing step by step. The black pieces were like a gradually tightening snake, strangling the white pieces on the board.

Hu Shanwei couldn’t lose. Empress Dowager Lu valued her because she had utility, not because she would lose games to curry favor and please people.

Drinking red bean glutinous rice balls, Hu Shanwei said indifferently, “People indifferent to fame and fortune can’t become Court Ladies.”

Hu Shanwei left with the list. Rows of bronze lamps lit up on East Long Street. On September nights, the night was cool as water. Still, some autumn insects threw themselves at the lamp nets, burned to death on the iron mesh. Layer upon layer of insect corpses nearly blocked the mesh holes.

The lamps on both East and West Long Streets of the rear palace had to burn until dawn. At night, duty eunuchs were responsible for lighting blown-out lamps, adding lamp oil, and scraping off insect corpses from the iron mesh piece by piece.

The scraper scraped against the iron mesh, making sharp scraping sounds that irritated the heart. Hu Shanwei stopped before the iron stele on East Long Street.

On it was Emperor Gaozhu’s personal imperial inscription: “Inner ministers shall not interfere in government affairs. Those who do shall be executed.”

Simple, brutal, and direct—typical writing style of the Hongwu reign.

Hu Shanwei was instantly transported back fifteen years to that spring of swirling cherry blossoms when forty-four female officials passed the palace examinations. The first thing they learned was memorizing palace regulations, taught by Court Administrator Fan, who was then still at the Palace Administration Bureau.

The first palace regulation they learned was Emperor Gaozhu’s “Inner ministers shall not interfere in government affairs. Those who do shall be executed.”

To strengthen their memory, Court Administrator Fan had specifically dragged them all to the iron stele on the long street, having each person read it aloud once. The past was vivid before her eyes.

At that time, Court Administrator Fan said, “This is stele text personally inscribed by His Majesty, warning rear palace eunuchs and female officials not to interfere in politics. Those who interfere shall be executed. Besides West Long Street, there’s an identical iron stele on the opposite West Long Street. These two long streets are necessary passages through the rear palace, so your first lesson is to remember this stele text, integrate these eleven characters into your blood, and never forget them.”

“In the rear palace, at least a hundred things can cost you your life. Interfering in politics is the first. No matter who you are, no matter what position you’re promoted to or how much dignity you have, once you interfere in politics, even if you’re a fifth-rank Court Lady, you’ll be immediately executed.”

“Now, read this one hundred times here…”

The scene at that time shocked the newly-entered Hu Shanwei into trembling, and the memory remains fresh to this day. Not just the eleven characters of the stele text—Hu Shanwei had deeply engraved every word Court Lady Fan spoke into her blood.

A prophecy fulfilled.

In the end, those words “once you interfere in politics, even if you’re a fifth-rank Court Lady, you’ll be immediately executed” came true for Court Lady Fan herself. And Court Lady Fan wasn’t even interfering in politics—she was just executing Emperor Gaozhu’s oral decree… but not thoroughly.

Actually, if that pot of poisoned wine had truly entered Princess Consort Lu’s stomach, Court Lady Fan might still be alive.

Hu Shanwei’s sleeves contained the list given by Empress Dowager Lu. She used to recite this regulation about inner ministers not interfering in politics even in her sleep, but fifteen years later, she finally understood: as an inner minister, how could one truly not interfere in politics?

The capital was the heart of the Ming Dynasty, and the rear palace was the core within that heart, the apex of the Ming’s fame and fortune arena. Working in the rear palace, dealing daily with the emperor, empress, crown prince, and other core power figures of the Ming—how could this not influence politics?

Rules are dead, but people are alive. With palace coups and succession struggles, as a female official and rear palace manager, how could one be merely a background character?

It’s just that due to their special status, they couldn’t have their names recorded in history books.

Since interfering or not interfering in politics both carried dangers, then she’d interfere in politics.

Court Lady Fan was clever all her life, cautious and meticulous, reading the wind’s direction, always preparing scapegoats to push forward as cannon fodder. Despite calculating everything too cleverly, didn’t she still die in the sinking ship, watching the inflowing river water rise over her body, dying in despair?

Why must female officials always be controlled by others, becoming cannon fodder or sacrificial offerings?

We are also people, people with emotions and our own positions. We are tools for managing the rear palace, but not merely tools.

Female officials can also use their special positions to move skillfully among various factions, strategizing and maneuvering. When politics inevitably faces great changes, they can play their role and achieve their own demands and interests.

Female officials cannot always passively accept imperial commands, complete imperial commands, then be cruelly crushed in the wheels of historical progress during regime changes.

Hu Shanwei decided to change this situation.

Looking at the cold iron stele, Hu Shanwei gradually found the path she wanted to take. A long-lost power awakened, just like when she first entered the palace, full of fighting spirit and strength.

Hu Shanwei touched the list in her sleeve. A chain stratagem of using force against force formed in her mind.

Afterward, consecutive days of autumn wind and rain came. The sun was like a newly married bride, shyly staying indoors. When it occasionally showed favor, it used cloud handkerchiefs to half-cover its face like holding a pipa. The rooms became so damp that water could be squeezed from the bedding. Before sleeping, palace maids had to use braziers to dry the quilts.

Suddenly one day, a strong north wind struck, dispersing the clouds that had shrouded the sky for so long. In the weak morning light, palace servants with brooms were sweeping East and West Long Streets when they suddenly froze as if seeing something terrible.

After daybreak, upon receiving the news, Empress Ma rushed to West Long Street. Hu Shanwei had already arrived and ordered palace servants to seal off the entire West Long Street, requiring people to take alternate routes.

West Long Street’s foundation had been softened by rainwater, resulting in subsidence. Overnight, six holes of various sizes had appeared. Some were waist-deep, others seemed bottomless like wells filled with muddy water.

Ground subsidence in the rear palace after rain soaking was a historical problem.

Because Nanjing’s seemingly twisted city layout was designed to correspond to the celestial alignment of the Big Dipper and Southern Dipper constellations, the Big Dipper plus Southern Dipper totaling thirteen stars exactly corresponding to Nanjing’s thirteen city gates.

The Ming Palace was positioned on the Purple Forbidden Star symbolizing the emperor, achieving the perfect feng shui effect of unity between heaven and man. This location was formerly Yanque Lake. When Emperor Gaozhu wanted this treasured land, the lake-filling and land-creation project was even more labor and resource-intensive than the above-ground palace construction.

Emperor Gaozhu was a generation’s hero, a founding monarch who believed man could conquer nature—filling a lake was no problem. But nature also had her own temperament. A perfectly good lake that had been a lake for thousands of years was suddenly filled in, with buildings constructed on top, pressing her down firmly. Did they really think she was easy to bully?

So the rear palace foundation sank every year, low in the middle and high on the sides. Whenever it rained, rainwater flowed back into the rear palace—it was practically possible to see the sea in the rear palace.

This time the problem was on West Long Street. Sturdy young eunuchs were skillfully pushing rubble and wooden stakes to fill the holes, but the deepest hole was not only not filled but had a wooden frame erected above it with a rope hanging down, with people fishing for something inside.

That’s right—it was the iron stele personally inscribed by Emperor Gaozhu with the eleven characters “Inner ministers shall not interfere in government affairs. Those who do shall be executed.”

After all, it belonged to the late emperor. Hu Shanwei dared not act independently and requested Empress Ma’s presence.

“Has it been fished out?” Empress Ma asked.

Hu Shanwei shook her head, “This pit is too deep with accumulated water inside. So far, the people who went down to dive haven’t found any trace of the iron stele. It may have already sunk into the lake mud. Next, I plan to have people first drain the accumulated water from the pit, then dig into the mud below.”

Empress Ma personally picked up a stone and threw it into the deep hole. With a thud, it seemed to disappear like a clay ox into the sea, “It’s actually this deep?”

Hu Shanwei said, “We just tested it—even the longest bamboo poles can’t reach the bottom. This pit is deeper than a well.”

Looking at the pockmarked West Long Street, Empress Ma said, “This street is the main thoroughfare through the West Six Palaces, with Imperial Guards patrolling day and night. If it remains cordoned off like this, it will ultimately be inconvenient. Draining water to search for the stele is too time-consuming and may not be successful. Let’s recast an iron stele to replace it, fill the pit first, and repair the road.”

“Your Majesty is wise. I’ll arrange it immediately.” Hu Shanwei accepted the order, then pointed to distant Changchun Palace, “Changchun Palace has also experienced ground subsidence. The building hasn’t collapsed, but it’s become unsafe. I’ve already ordered the palace servants guarding it to move out to prevent future casualties.”

Except for Noble Lady Zhang, all consorts from the previous dynasty had been martyred. Currently, only Yikun Palace and Yanxi Palace housed Emperor Jianwen’s two unfavored consorts among the East and West Six Palaces. The rest were all vacant, with only a few old palace servants guarding the buildings, so desolate that even daylight seemed haunted.

Empress Ma nodded, “Human life is paramount. Court Lady Hu acted correctly.”

Hu Shanwei said, “Ground subsidence in the palace is becoming increasingly frequent. It’s manageable now in clear autumn weather, but once winter rain and snow come, and spring’s plum rain season, it will be even worse. Constantly patching and mending ultimately isn’t a solution. We need to find a long-term method to resolve the subsidence problem.”

Empress Ma was at her wit’s end, “The imperial palace has deteriorated to this extent in just thirty-one years, which even Emperor Gaozhu couldn’t have anticipated. I heard Emperor Gaozhu considered relocating the capital and choosing new feng shui treasured land to build a palace. But His Majesty has just ascended the throne and can’t bear to burden the people with such expense, so we can only make do for now. Fortunately, the rear palace population is simple—keeping a few intact palaces is sufficient for living.”

The Hongwu reign’s rear palace was enormous, with several or even dozens of consorts crowded into one palace. The Jianwen reign was different—the concubine population probably couldn’t match even a landlord’s small courtyard.

Hu Shanwei said, “In that case, the servants in the rear palace should also be reduced. When people become idle with nothing to do, they create trouble.”

Empress Ma nodded, “I have the same thought. I’ll trouble Court Lady Hu to handle dismissing palace servants.”

When Emperor Jianwen heard this news in the front court, concerned about the iron stele erected by Emperor Gaozhu, he immediately summoned Hu Shanwei for an audience.

Hu Shanwei detailed the situation on West Long Street, “…Her Majesty the Empress, cherishing the people’s strength, and with West Long Street being so important, ordered the pits filled and a new iron stele recast. I’ve already had craftsmen work day and night on repairs. In three days, West Long Street can resume normal passage.”

Emperor Jianwen was worried, “The foundation is fragile, and patching isn’t a long-term solution. Constantly robbing Peter to pay Paul also damages imperial dignity. It seems the Ming must either relocate the capital or survey new feng shui treasured land to build another palace.”

While the court argued endlessly about whether to relocate the capital or move the palace, rumors flourished inside and outside the court: the rear palace’s frequent ground subsidence, with even the iron stele personally erected by Emperor Gaozhu sinking to the lake bottom, was Emperor Gaozhu’s thunderous fury at Emperor Jianwen’s forcing his imperial uncles to death and demoting five imperial uncles to commoner status. Emperor Jianwen was unfilial and rebellious.