The home field advantage—although Hu Shanwei didn’t have the bloodline of the Zhu family, the Zhu family’s ancestral tombs were her home turf. Empress Xiaoci and Noble Consort Duanjing and others seemed to bless her from the underworld, bringing her good fortune. She had thought that the second condition would be rejected by Emperor Yongle or that more restrictive conditions would be added, but Emperor Yongle was unexpectedly “humane” toward Hu Shanwei.
In fact, at its root, Emperor Yongle treated Hu Shanwei as a court minister rather than merely a housekeeper of the harem. Being civil servants alike, there was a distinction between ministers and servants.
Having served as Palace Supervisor for two dynasties, Hu Shanwei finally secured in the third dynasty a power equal to male ministers—the right to go off duty and return home to eat and sleep with her family.
It sounds simple, doesn’t it? But for female officials, this was different—it was a qualitative leap forward.
With the first two conditions approved, Hu Shanwei pressed her advantage and stated the third condition: “This minister is forty-six years old this year. Currently my physical strength, energy, and experience are all still useful, but time ages people relentlessly, and this minister too will have a day of retiring from office and returning home to enjoy my twilight years. Before the capital relocation, this minister will help Your Majesty maintain order in the harem. When the Great Ming court moves to the new imperial palace, at that time please grant Your Majesty’s approval to this minister’s resignation.”
Having been repeatedly betrayed by the previous two dynasty emperors who “broke their promises,” Hu Shanwei was frightened and wanted to agree on a retirement date in advance—only then would there be something to look forward to.
Emperor Yongle thought to himself: Who knows when we’ll be able to relocate the capital?
To relocate the capital, he must first complete the personal expedition against the Mongols and stabilize the borders—otherwise the construction of the new capital city and Great Ming imperial palace would be seized by the Mongols.
At the same time, roads must be built and waterways cleared, the Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal must be established, allowing supply ships to transport goods directly from the Jiangnan region to Beiping without obstruction…
Otherwise, with so many people in the new capital city, plus feeding over a hundred thousand troops guarding the capital, the grain and supplies from the north would be completely insufficient.
As a famous infrastructure fanatic, Emperor Yongle’s plans for the Great Ming Dynasty were definitely not limited to just relocating the capital. Even Emperor Yongle himself dared not confirm whether he could complete all these infrastructure projects within his lifetime…
As Emperor Yongle was pondering the several major undertakings he needed to accomplish, Hu Shanwei saw that the emperor hadn’t agreed for a long time and thought something was wrong. She had carefully considered the order of presenting these three conditions, arranging them in sequence of easy, difficult, easy.
The first condition was the simplest, like a knife—the front part was the sharpest, using good steel on the blade’s edge, making it easy to cut in.
The second condition was the most difficult but was the core of the three-part agreement. It couldn’t be placed first to avoid being killed with one blow, leaving no room for maneuvering, nor could it be placed last to avoid the emperor feeling that having already agreed to the first two conditions and made concessions, he couldn’t make major concessions on the third condition.
So the third condition should have a lower difficulty level. Since Eunuch Sanbao had already mentioned the capital relocation matter, Emperor Yongle should agree readily.
This was a little scheme that Hu Shanwei had summarized from years of work experience.
Why was Emperor Yongle hesitating for so long? Even longer than the pause on the second question?
Just as Hu Shanwei was beginning to doubt her life, Emperor Yongle finally spoke: “Very well, I agree. After relocating the capital to Beiping, as long as you request to leave, I won’t force you to stay.”
Emperor Yongle, as the only prince regent in five thousand years of history who became emperor, was deeply scheming. He painted a rosy picture for Hu Shanwei, thinking to himself: If you can live to see me complete all the infrastructure projects and successfully relocate the capital, I will definitely agree to your request.
So I’m not deceiving you, right?
Hu Shanwei breathed a sigh of relief and bowed, saying: “Thank Your Majesty for your grace.”
With the transaction complete, Emperor Yongle was eager for Hu Shanwei to take up her post immediately, saying: “I grant you a mansion. In three days, I’ll send people to escort Palace Supervisor Hu into the palace.”
Hu Shanwei kowtowed to thank the emperor’s grace. The Ming Dynasty custom for monarch-minister meetings was one bow, no need to kneel. Kneeling was only appropriate for special occasions like receiving imperial edicts or being granted things.
Hu Shanwei could not refuse this house—not because Beijing housing prices were expensive and she couldn’t afford to buy a house, but because houses granted by the emperor were similar to public housing in the planned economy era five hundred years later, without ownership rights or property deeds, specifically to solve housing problems for civil servants, providing only usage rights.
Civil servants could live there, but once they died or resigned and returned home, the house had to be “returned to the state,” taken back by eunuchs sent by the imperial palace—not even a door panel could be taken away.
The ownership of such houses belonged to the emperor personally, usually obtained from confiscating the private property of criminal officials. They were normally maintained and repaired by official slaves. Since the criminal officials’ family property had been confiscated, furniture and everything was complete, and new civil servants could move in with just their luggage without worrying about purchasing too many household items.
The official slaves were also considered “property” of the residence, serving the new master, but among them were the emperor’s spies—having served as Palace Supervisor for two dynasties, Hu Shanwei understood these intricacies all too well.
Granting a house was both grace and surveillance—only important ministers could receive this kind of “favor.” To refuse would be disrespecting the emperor.
Power and constraints came hand in hand like twin brothers.
After Hu Shanwei accompanied Emperor Yongle to offer incense to Emperor Gaozhu and Empress Xiaoci at the Enjoyment Hall, she immediately returned to the palace. Eunuch Sanbao led Hu Shanwei and her daughter to the imperially granted residence.
A’Lei was full of curiosity about the capital and was impatient to sit in the carriage. Hu Shanwei changed her into little boy’s clothes and put on a wide-brimmed round hat that could cover even her shoulders—a Fanyang hat (which was Lin Chong’s standard equipment in “Water Margin”).
The characteristic of the Fanyang hat was that the huge brim in front curved upward slightly like a cloud, providing a wide field of vision while blocking both rain and sunlight.
A’Lei was small, and sitting on horseback with the Fanyang hat on her head looked like she was topped with an enormous black mushroom. She craned her neck to observe the prosperity of the capital along the way, her eyes rolling around, reluctant even to blink.
Through the thin gauze curtains, Hu Shanwei watched the “black mushroom” head constantly turning outside and sighed in her heart that her daughter had grown up.
The convoy turned onto Datong Street, which ran north-south through the capital. To the east of the street was an endless high wall, topped with bright yellow glazed tiles like a coiled dragon.
A’Lei was amazed by the height and grandeur of the wall and asked Eunuch Sanbao beside her: “Eunuch Zheng, is this the imperial palace?”
Eunuch Sanbao nodded: “This is where Palace Supervisor Hu works. In the middle of the palace wall is the Xi’an Gate. Palace personnel and noble ladies coming to the capital for audiences enter through the Southwest Gate. The residence His Majesty granted is very close to here, convenient for Palace Supervisor Hu to enter and exit the palace.”
A’Lei rode her horse alongside the carriage and said to Hu Shanwei inside: “Sister is so amazing! From now on, sister is the person I admire most—you’ve already surpassed brother-in-law!”
Through the window gauze, Hu Shanwei could see the pride and glory on A’Lei’s face.
Hu Shanwei suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of achievement. Her daughter’s affirmation and recognition of her small accomplishment moved her more than the emperor’s rewards, as if an invisible force was injected into her body.
It turned out that a mother could not only provide her child with a healthy body and sound soul, but could also build a career that would make her child proud.
Born in Suzhou, raised in the capital, and working in the Imperial City, Hu Shanwei knew every street in the capital like the back of her hand. Following the convoy’s route, she discovered that the imperially granted residence was not just “convenient for entering and exiting the palace”—it was simply a place she “couldn’t afford to live”!
If the capital were divided into five rings, the imperially granted new home was on the first ring in the western district, where the capital’s top powerful and noble families lived.
How expensive was it? You could tell by looking at the neighbors on both sides.
The neighbor to the left was the Mu Mansion… Mu Chun’s former home. Because his father Mu Ying was posthumously enfeoffed as Prince Zhaojing, it was called Prince Mu’s Mansion, or Mu Mansion for short.
The Mu Mansion was one of only two top-tier noble families that had survived since the Hongwu era—the other being the Marquis Wuding Mansion, the maternal family of Crown Prince’s Good Lady Guo.
Having survived three rounds of brutal werewolf killing through the Hongwu, Jianwen, and Yongle dynasties, the Mu Mansion had already become a legend in the capital.
It should be noted that even Duke Weiguo Mansion, the Xu family that was Empress Xu’s maternal family, had already been stripped of their title. Although her younger brother Xu Zengshou was re-enfeoffed as Duke Dingguo with hereditary succession, the title of Duke Weiguo that Empress Xu’s father Xu Da had earned was not preserved—the lineage had been severed.
The neighbor to the left was already extraordinary.
The neighbor to the right was even more astounding—Prince Han’s Mansion.
The home of Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu, and of course also the home of Shuikeng’s younger brother. The most warlike prince of the Great Ming Dynasty, a great hero of the Jingnan Campaign, the most powerful and favored prince in the capital beloved by Emperor Yongle, the strongest competitor to the Crown Prince—all these titles combined couldn’t be recited in one breath.
He was simply the male version of Dragon Queen Daenerys.
Of course, since the specifications of officials’ residences were determined according to rank and family status, the imperially granted new residence was not as large as the massive architectural complexes of the Mu Mansion and Prince Han’s Mansion, but rather a quiet three-courtyard residence, similar in area to one of the Eastern or Western Six Palaces in the imperial palace.
With neighbors like the Mu Mansion and Prince Han’s Mansion, security was naturally beyond question. Even leaving doors unlocked at night, there was no worry about thieves—very suitable for Hu Shanwei and her sister, just two women living alone, ensuring safety.
Moreover, although the Hu residence didn’t have mansion troops patrolling day and night like these two top-tier noble mansions, the Hu residence should actually be safer than these two prince mansions.
Why?
Because behind the Hu residence was the Dacang Garden—the capital’s largest state-owned silver vault was located here, similar to the central bank’s main vault in later generations.
The Dacang Garden was under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Revenue. Tax silver collected from all over the Great Ming was stored here. The monthly salaries of capital officials, approved funds for various departments, including military expenses, all came from the Dacang Garden silver vault. Because the silver was of good quality, it was simply called Dacang Silver—loved by all, with full weight. Private shops and money exchanges all preferred Dacang Silver.
Who doesn’t love money? So this place was guarded year-round by two thousand imperial guards. When full martial law was declared, at least twenty thousand imperial guards defended here—a ten-fold increase.
Emperor Yongle arranging the Hu residence here was simply “hiding beauty in a silver mansion.”
Eunuch Sanbao led the Hu sisters through the gate. The official slaves who were watching the house had already opened the main gate and stood in the courtyard in orderly rows, welcoming their new master.
Official slaves belonged to the base class and could not marry those of good standing—they could only intermarry among themselves, serving as slaves for generations. So there were three families watching the house, all of servile status, with old and young—the oldest already white-haired, the youngest about A’Lei’s age.
Eunuch Sanbao was the most powerful figure in the palace, and the three families of official slaves listened tremblingly to his lecture, swearing to heaven: “We servants will certainly serve Palace Supervisor Hu and Miss Hu well, not daring to be negligent.”
Eunuch Sanbao led the Hu sisters on a tour of the Hu residence. The flowers, trees, and houses inside were all well-maintained, and the furniture was almost complete, all made of good wood—precious materials like huali and rosewood were common. Only small household items like pots, bowls, ladles, basins, bedding, and table covers were lacking.
Eunuch Sanbao said: “Later, people from the palace’s Six Bureaus will deliver all of Palace Supervisor Hu’s allocated provisions. You can live here tonight. As for the serving palace maids and eunuchs, this servant will have people select good ones to serve.”
Needless to say, among these would be Emperor Yongle’s spies. Hu Shanwei accepted them all without discrimination—as for whether these people were suitable… that could be dealt with later.
After the tour, Eunuch Sanbao took his leave. Hu Shanwei, as the household head, gathered the three families of official slaves for a small meeting. At this first meeting, she gave everyone a greeting gift.
The official slaves queued up to receive their rewards and bowed in gratitude.
After the master-servant recognition was complete, the palace sent Hu Shanwei’s allocated clothing, charcoal, and other items, delivered cart by cart—all top-quality palace-made goods. There were also about twenty palace personnel who came from the palace to serve at the Hu residence: palace maids, matrons, eunuchs, and cooks.
Of course, whether official slaves or serving palace personnel, their salaries and expenses were all provided by the palace—like state-assigned servants, requiring no payment from Hu Shanwei.
The palace personnel paid their respects one by one. Hu Shanwei gave them greeting gifts that were more generous than those for the three slave families, arranged their lodgings, and modestly said: “My place here is not comparable to the palace—conditions are somewhat inferior. I apologize for the inconvenience to everyone.”
Everyone quickly said they weren’t inconvenienced and were willing to leave the palace to serve Palace Supervisor Hu.
The palace had its advantages—magnificent and splendid—but the good places weren’t where they could live anyway. Serving at the Hu residence, at least they could often go out for walks and have more freedom. For palace personnel to leave the palace required complex procedures, and many among them hadn’t left the palace for years.
After the palace personnel settled in at the Hu residence, the emperor and empress sent people to deliver various rewards. Hu Shanwei didn’t dare be careless—she set up an incense table, spread red carpet, opened the central gate wide, and welcomed the imperial messenger.
The person who came to deliver gifts was not a eunuch but a female official surnamed Cao, a Court Lady Cao who served beside Empress Xu.
Having served as Empress Xiaoci’s Court Lady, Hu Shanwei knew this position was held by the empress’s most trusted and dignified female official, representing the imperial family’s prestige, combining firmness with gentleness.
Hu Shanwei had read about this Court Lady Cao’s deeds in a court gazette from the second year of Yongle—after Emperor Yongle’s ascension, many former ministers of Jianwen were imprisoned. A Miss Cao petitioned Empress Xu, beating the appeal drum, crying injustice for her father, saying her father was falsely accused of being part of Fang Xiaoru’s rebellious faction when in fact he had only attended a literary gathering organized by Fang Xiaoru, and the Cao family had no dealings with the rebellious faction.
When Empress Xu saw the petition—with upright and elegant handwriting, clear narration, strict logic, no waste words throughout, and moving content—she greatly appreciated Miss Cao’s literary talent. She summoned her to the palace, questioned her thoroughly, then ordered the Embroidered Uniform Guard to investigate the matter strictly.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard later proved Father Cao’s innocence, released him in court, and restored his official position. Empress Xu was very fond of Miss Cao. It happened that internal palace examinations for female officials were beginning, and palace maids were applying one after another. Empress Xu had Miss Cao participate in the selection examination, where she was ranked first by examiner Shen Qionglian as the top female scholar, and from then on remained in the palace as a female official.
Matters of the harem normally shouldn’t appear in court gazettes, but when they were written up, it was to express the Yongle Dynasty’s political attitude: as long as one acknowledged Yongle’s legitimate status, all past official behavior would be forgiven.
Hu Shanwei judged this was a typical political performance, and gazette reports couldn’t be entirely believed. However, this Court Lady Cao’s cooperation with Empress Xu in the performance certainly made her the empress’s confidant without doubt—it was just unclear what Court Lady Cao’s true background was, but it certainly wasn’t simple.
Hu Shanwei led A’Lei and all the household servants in kowtowing to thank the imperial grace.
Looking at this Court Lady Cao, Hu Shanwei vaguely felt she looked familiar, as if she had seen her somewhere before.
Having completed her mission, Court Lady Cao was invited by Hu Shanwei to sit and drink tea.
Court Lady Cao dismissed the others and bowed to Hu Shanwei: “This official pays respects to Palace Supervisor Hu. I have long heard Palace Supervisor Hu’s great name, thunderous in my ears. Seeing you today, you truly live up to your reputation. In the future, please provide much guidance, Palace Supervisor Hu.”
The Court Lady position belonged to the Palace Supervisor Bureau—Hu Shanwei was her direct superior.
Hu Shanwei invited her to sit and asked about her age and place of origin.
Court Lady Cao smiled: “With no outsiders present, this official won’t hide anything from Palace Supervisor Hu. The former Court Lady Cao in the palace was this official’s great-aunt. This official’s entry into the palace was also great-aunt’s idea. Great-aunt repeatedly instructed this official to certainly listen to Palace Supervisor Hu’s words and learn from Palace Supervisor Hu—even learning some superficial skills would benefit this official for a lifetime.”
Court Lady Cao! No wonder this girl looked somewhat familiar! I thought I had seen her somewhere—she turns out to be a relative of that old fox Court Lady Cao!
Indeed, this Miss Cao’s entry into the palace was a carefully arranged political drama.