You don’t realize what despair truly means until you try your hardest.

The day news arrived from Beijing that Zhu Zhanji had been invested as Imperial Grand Grandson, it was raining in spring.

Cold, icy rain slapped randomly against his face, and Prince Han’s heart felt like it was being brutally stabbed with a bayonet.

Am I waiting for a succession position, or am I waiting to sink into an ocean of suffering?

Prince Han shed tears in the wind.

When Father Emperor invested the Imperial Grand Grandson, he was confirming that the Crown Prince’s position as heir was unshakeable.

No matter whether the Crown Prince was good or bad, whether he had the ability to supervise the nation, Father Emperor had accepted it.

Prince Han secretly instructed his subordinates to submit memorials saying: “Your Majesty is still young, in your prime, and you’ve already established a Crown Prince. Why go to the unnecessary trouble of establishing an Imperial Grand Grandson?”

Emperor Yongle was well prepared and replied uniformly:

“Didn’t you previously say the Crown Prince was in poor health, was crippled, and if he suddenly died, it would shake the foundation of the state and cause panic among the court? You used this as grounds to abolish the Crown Prince, didn’t you?

Now I think what you said had some merit, so I’ve established the Imperial Grandson as Imperial Grand Grandson—double insurance. No matter what happens to the Crown Prince’s health in the future, whether he dies suddenly or not, the Great Ming will have a ready heir to the throne. Just let the Imperial Grand Grandson step up.”

Emperor Yongle was skilled at provocative moves. This face-slapping maneuver was truly swift and accurate. After all, these were words you all spoke—accept it or not.

Now the assembled ministers regretted submitting those memorials to abolish the Crown Prince. They were truly slapping their own faces.

Emperor Yongle’s retort left the ministers speechless, and they had no choice but to accept reality.

Prince Han couldn’t question Emperor Yongle’s decision either. Rain was falling from the sky, and blood was dripping in his heart.

Zhu Zhanhe held an umbrella, shielding his father from wind and rain. “Father, be careful not to catch cold.”

Prince Han’s heart full of fame-seeking and profit-chasing had been doused with a basin of ice water. He suddenly looked several years older, disheartened and sighing: “From now on, when we father and son meet the Imperial Grand Grandson, we’ll have to perform the rites of ruler and subject.”

Once established as heir to the throne, one becomes the ruler. In the imperial family, state protocol takes precedence over family protocol. When imperial family members meet, they must first perform state rites, then family rites.

Prince Han was senior in generation to Imperial Grand Grandson Zhu Zhanji, but Zhu Zhanji was the ruler, so Prince Han had to bow to Zhu Zhanji first.

Baby’s heart felt so wronged! Bowing to big brother the Crown Prince was understandable—who told him to be good at reincarnation, going to Mother Empress’s belly three years earlier? But grand-nephew Zhu Zhanji… looking like a skinny bamboo pole, his height only reaching my chest—I still have to bow to a child?

Prince Han had never suffered such grievances even when he was a hostage in the capital. Whoever dared to slight him, he’d fight back. He never knew what it meant to bow.

Life is rough, but I won’t bow!

Prince Han couldn’t swallow this humiliation!

Zhu Zhanhe comforted his father: “Father, think positively. Are you the only elder who has to bow to the Imperial Grand Grandson? Those princess aunts, the princes outside the capital, and Third Imperial Uncle Prince Zhao stationed in Beijing all have to perform ruler-subject rites when they meet the Imperial Grand Grandson!”

The leader of the Worried Fathers Alliance, Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu, wept stormy tears inwardly: Wuu wuu, this father-trapping son—are you comforting me or mocking me? Why do I feel worse the more I listen?

On one side was gloom and despair, on the other was joy and celebration. When the Eastern Palace heard this news, they were simply exploding with happiness. The three-hundred-pound Crown Prince’s fat was screaming, his flesh trembling, repeatedly asking the Crown Princess: “Really? Is this real? His Majesty has made Ji’er the Imperial Grand Grandson?”

The Crown Princess smiled: “Absolutely true. The Crown Prince’s eyes haven’t failed him—Your Highness saw it in black and white, not a word wrong.”

Upon hearing the news, Guo Liangdi came carrying her four-month-old son to congratulate the Crown Princess: “Sister bore such a good son. With an Imperial Grand Grandson, the Eastern Palace’s succession is secure.”

She then played with the white, chubby baby in swaddling: “Kai’er, when you grow up, you must study hard like your big brother. Mother’s expectations aren’t high—learning half of what he knows would be enough.”

Guo Liangdi had fiercely demanded the Crown Prince three times on New Year’s Eve after his mourning period ended and immediately became pregnant. After ten months of pregnancy, she gave birth to a son named Zhu Zhankai.

The Crown Princess took the swaddling clothes, full of joy: “Look at Kai’er’s bright, lively eyes. He’ll definitely be no worse than his big brother in the future—perhaps he’ll surpass his master.”

Hearing this, Guo Liangdi smiled: “The Imperial Grand Grandson is a once-in-a-century genius. How could Kai’er compare to the Imperial Grand Grandson? I only hope he won’t be stupid in the future and can assist the Imperial Grand Grandson. Then I’ll be thanking Buddha.”

When people encounter happy events, their spirits soar. Seeing his younger son, the Crown Prince also snatched him over to hold and play with. Who knew the Crown Prince was usually either busy with government affairs or busy spreading his favor? Zhu Zhankai rarely saw his father and was accustomed to seeing gentle, beautiful women. Suddenly having a big pig head lean close—who could handle that?

Even adults couldn’t handle it.

Moreover, Zhu Zhankai was a small baby. Not only was he scared to tears by the pig head, he was scared into urinating, wetting his father all over.

Seeing the Crown Prince’s embarrassment, the Crown Princess quickly took the child and handed him to Guo Liangdi to change clothes, saying: “Child’s urine is auspicious—it wards off evil.”

Two sturdy eunuchs helped the Crown Prince change clothes. At this moment, a female physician came to report, also beaming with joy, saying Beauty Zhang was pregnant.

This Beauty Zhang was the beauty presented to the palace by the Crown Princess’s family, Earl Pengcheng’s mansion—a carefully trained servant originally intended to help the Crown Princess maintain favor in the future.

Because the Crown Prince had listened to Hu Shanwei’s advice to deliberately act and reveal flaws and shortcomings, letting himself go. As husband and wife sing in harmony, the Crown Princess coordinated with her family, deliberately having Beauty Zhang pour wine when the Crown Prince held literary gatherings at the Zhang family’s villa for family visits, creating the scandalous farce of the Crown Prince being “blinded by lust” and asking his brother-in-law for the beauty.

The Crown Prince had really gone all out for the succession position. Exhausted by government duties during the day, he still had to go plow Beauty Zhang’s virgin territory at night, spreading his favor. Now that Beauty Zhang was pregnant and his eldest son was made Imperial Grand Grandson, the Crown Prince finally breathed a complete sigh of relief.

The Crown Princess hurriedly ordered people to prepare gifts for the pregnant Beauty Zhang and asked the Crown Prince, who had just changed into clean clothes: “Beauty Zhang is pregnant for the first time. Would Your Highness like to visit her?”

The Crown Prince comfortably reclined on the arhat bed, shaking his head repeatedly, the fat on his cheeks nearly flying off: “No, no! I can’t help Beauty Zhang give birth. These days have nearly exhausted me to death. I need to rest for a while. Even if heavenly fairies descended, I wouldn’t favor them.”

I slept with women for the succession position. No, it wasn’t that I slept with women—women slept with me.

The Crown Prince was tired. That a three-hundred-pound fat man could persist until now was already a miracle.

The Crown Princess said: “Very well. Beauty Zhang comes from humble origins—just a servant from my family. Your Highness needn’t worry about her. But what about Guo Liangdi? She’s a noble daughter from a marquis’s family. Your Highness can’t mistreat her.”

“I mistreat her? I dare mistreat her? When have I ever mistreated her?” The Crown Prince asked three questions in succession, somewhat aggrieved. “I treat Guo Liangdi almost the same as I treat you. Guo Liangdi’s son Kai’er is already four months old—how else should I treat her?”

The Crown Princess smiled mysteriously: “Your Highness also knows Kai’er is four months old? The imperial physicians and female doctors have all said that after four months of childbirth, women can resume normal intimacy and prepare for the next pregnancy. I’ve borne three sons—Your Highness should give Guo Liangdi at least three children to be fair.”

Hearing this, the Crown Prince only felt his kidneys aching and moaned: “You two are truly like sisters—you’re more anxious about her second child than Guo Liangdi herself. I beg you both—let me rest for a while, will you? I’m truly too exhausted.”

Hearing this, the Crown Princess pushed the Crown Prince even harder to sleep with Guo Liangdi, not hesitating to deliberately misinterpret the Crown Prince’s words, using reverse psychology:

“What? Your Highness can perform with Beauty Zhang but not with Guo Liangdi? What kind of problem is this? Do you despise Guo Liangdi for not being as slender as before after childbirth?”

The Crown Prince frantically shook his head: “How could that be! I’m fat myself—how could I despise Guo Liangdi who bore me a son? Besides, Guo Liangdi isn’t fat. She’s more voluptuous than before, even more beautiful.”

The Crown Princess pointed toward Guo Liangdi’s palace: “If that’s the case, Your Highness should sleep there tonight. Guo Liangdi has gone fourteen months—ten months of pregnancy plus four months of caring for Kai’er—without receiving the Crown Prince’s favor. How can this be acceptable? Even I can’t bear to watch. For dinner, I’ll have the Imperial Kitchen prepare some nourishing ingredients to assist Your Highness.”

Whether palace concubines or ordinary noble ladies, mothers didn’t personally breastfeed—they left everything to wet nurses. As soon as children were born, noble ladies drank milk-stopping medicine to maintain their health. Generally, they would have normal menstruation the next month, and after three months of conditioning, they could conceive again.

This was based on optimizing birth rates, allowing noble ladies to have children more efficiently. Because if new mothers breastfed their children themselves, women during nursing rarely menstruated, especially in the first half year, so the possibility of conception was extremely small. This was a natural law of human reproduction, protecting newborn babies to receive adequate nutrition and care.

Money and status could break primitive natural laws. By hiring wet nurses, families with means could have more children.

So ancient people’s pursuit of many children and grandchildren, abundant offspring and blessings, wasn’t merely primitive worship of reproduction—it mainly reflected family wealth and status.

Four months after giving birth, Guo Liangdi was physically and psychologically ready for another pregnancy. Coming to the main hall today carrying Zhu Zhankai to congratulate Zhu Zhanji’s investiture as Imperial Grand Grandson—wasn’t this also a hint?

Guo Liangdi couldn’t directly tell the Crown Prince: I haven’t slept with you for fourteen months. Is it because my figure isn’t good, or my background isn’t good? After four months of conditioning, my uterus has been renovated and can welcome the next embryo. Is bearing children for the imperial family only my responsibility?

No matter how tired you are, you must get up and plow my field and plant seeds!

The Crown Prince thought the Crown Princess made a lot of sense. It was time to work at Guo Liangdi’s place. If he didn’t go, people might think Guo Liangdi had lost favor, or that he didn’t respect the Guo family. That wouldn’t do—the Guo family was a major support for the Eastern Palace.

The Crown Prince had no choice but to lie down hopelessly, conserving energy: “Fine, I’ll follow your arrangements.”

The Crown Princess was overjoyed: “I’ll immediately send someone to inform Guo Liangdi to prepare well.”

Are you ready? Always ready!

Guo Liangdi, a tiger daughter from a military family, had excellent physical condition. That night she again fiercely demanded the Crown Prince three times. By month’s end, when Guo Liangdi’s monthly flow didn’t arrive as expected, she was pregnant again.

The Crown Princess was naturally happy for Guo Liangdi. The Crown Prince had finally completed his task and could finish work, moving to sleep in the main room.

Who knew that just as the lamp was blown out and the Crown Prince thought he could finally sleep well, the Crown Princess made moves on him.

The Crown Prince instinctively felt his legs trembling: “I beg you to spare me. You already have three sons—aren’t you satisfied?”

“I want a daughter.” The Crown Princess was very determined. “Daughters are mother’s little cotton jackets. I’m in my thirties now. If I don’t get pregnant again, it’ll be even harder later. Besides, the Eastern Palace is full of boys now. Doesn’t Your Highness want a lovely little princess?”

He did.

The Crown Prince had no choice. No one else could substitute for this matter—he had to be self-reliant.

When the Crown Princess announced her fourth pregnancy, Emperor Yongle finally returned from campaign, victorious, and Imperial Grandson Zhu Zhanji also returned to the capital with him, leaving Third Prince Zhao, Prince Zhu Gaosui, to guard Beijing.

At the same time, the imperial mausoleum at Tianshou Mountain in Beijing was completed, and Empress Ren Xiao’s coffin could finally be buried and laid to rest.

This time, Prince Han seemed to have had an epiphany. He no longer clung to power in the capital. Kneeling and begging Emperor Yongle bitterly, he recommended himself for the duty of escorting his mother Empress Xiaoci’s coffin north to Tianshou Mountain for burial.

Actually, Emperor Yongle had originally wanted the Imperial Grand Grandson to personally escort the coffin north—this was invisible political capital, adding points for filial piety.

However, Emperor Yongle looked at his second son Prince Han crying with snot and tears, heartbroken and devastated. The pain of losing one’s mother was different from losing one’s grandmother.

Prince Han cried louder and more sorrowfully than the Crown Prince, his voice nearly hoarse from wailing, finally simply fainting before his mother’s coffin, genuinely moved.

Emperor Yongle was, after all, a father. Looking at his son who had cried himself unconscious, his heart softened. He thought Prince Han must have changed his past ways, gradually returning to the right path, no longer constantly slandering the Eastern Palace.

Emperor Yongle decided to give his second son a chance. As a father, he had to hold the bowl level. Since he’d made Eastern Palace’s Zhu Zhanji the Imperial Grand Grandson, the important task of escorting Empress Ren Xiao north for burial should be given to Prince Han.

The night before Prince Han’s departure, Emperor Yongle copied the Heart Sutra in small regular script in Rouxian Palace:

“Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva… saw that all five aggregates are empty, crossing over all suffering…”

The inscription read: “In the eleventh year of Yongle, Di copied one volume of the Heart Sutra for his deceased wife Empress Ren Xiao.”

Emperor Yongle copied two versions in total.

Tomorrow, Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu would take Empress Ren Xiao’s coffin, which had remained here for six years, to be buried at Tianshou Mountain in Beijing.

Emperor Yongle Zhu Di copied two volumes of the Heart Sutra in the palace, then took out a comb the Empress Ren Xiao had used from his bosom. The fine teeth held several strands of the empress’s hair, which he had always carried with him.

Emperor Yongle carefully unwound strand by strand of hair tangled in the comb teeth, arranging them into a small bundle, then cut off a lock of his own hair and braided it together with his deceased wife’s hair, dividing it into two bundles, rolling each into the two copies of the Heart Sutra.

Afterward, he bound the scrolls with golden thread, like covering the intertwined hair inside with a second layer of blankets, carefully protecting them.

On the desk were two twin-like, golden, gleaming copper gilt Shakyamuni Buddha statues, from the same mold, crafted by the same artisan. Emperor Yongle opened the bases and stuffed the two golden thread-bound scrolls into the hollow interiors of the Buddha statues, replacing the bases.

Empress Ren Xiao’s coffin would be buried at Tianshou Mountain. From now on, only these locks of hair hidden in the two Buddha statues would accompany Emperor Yongle through the rest of his life.

Emperor Yongle sat withered beside his deceased wife’s coffin all night, never closing his eyes.

In the morning, Prince Han escorted Empress Ren Xiao’s coffin out of the palace. The Crown Prince and Imperial Grand Grandson both tearfully accompanied it to Longjiang Relay Station dock outside the city, watching the coffin being carried onto the boat.

In Fengtian Hall, Emperor Yongle, whose hair had turned white overnight, summoned the Minister of Rites and instructed: “After my death, I will be buried together with Empress Ren Xiao at Tianshou Mountain Imperial Mausoleum. Let this mausoleum be named Changling.”

Changling—meaning eternal longing.

Eternal longing breaks the heart!