Truly, misfortune strikes when one least expects it, like sitting peacefully at home only to have disaster fall from the sky.
Red blood and white brain matter spilled across the floor. Noble Consort Quan had breathed her last, dying instantly on the spot!
This eternal beauty—virtuous in conduct, brilliant as ice and snow, gentle and unassuming, content with her lot, kind and mild-tempered—was practically born to be an empress or consort. Yet she died so unjustly in Changchun Palace.
Emperor Yongle appeared mad and delirious, as if seeing ghosts in broad daylight. Initially, the palace servants all thought someone had secretly practiced witchcraft to curse the emperor.
After all, within the palace’s many layers of security, bringing in poison or similar substances was extremely difficult, making witchcraft the most common accusation.
Acting Palace Supervisor Shen Qionglian was a female official who had served three dynasties. She had personally witnessed the great upheaval at the Xiaoling Mausoleum, the death of the deposed Prince Lu, Crown Prince Yiwen’s sudden death, Emperor Gaozhu’s passing, the imperial edict for the collective martyrdom of palace consorts that she herself had drafted, Palace Supervisor Fan’s secret execution by Emperor Jianwen, Palace Supervisor Hu’s entry into the palace for revenge, and the subversion of imperial power—all shocking palace secrets.
Shen Qionglian was well-experienced and knew there were never any real ghosts or spirits—it was always people causing trouble. Witchcraft claims were unreliable. She immediately ordered the palace servants to remain calm, sealed off all information, and declared that anyone caught privately discussing ghosts and spirits would be thrown to the Palace Justice Department to be beaten to death with clubs. She commanded female physicians to administer acupuncture to calm Emperor Yongle, then had him carried to Qianqing Palace for urgent consultation with the imperial physicians.
Simultaneously, she secretly informed the Eastern Palace and the Crown Prince’s Palace that the Crown Prince and Crown Prince’s heir were double insurance to ensure the stability of the Ming government—the emperor could die, but the state must not fall into chaos.
Shen Qionglian remained unruffled in the face of crisis, handling the emergency methodically with thunderous decisiveness. She even took the liberty of requesting Noble Consort Zhang, who was confined in Yanxi Palace, to come out and take charge of the situation while the harem was without a mistress and Emperor Yongle was delirious.
Upon learning of the critical situation, Noble Consort Zhang immediately wrote a secret letter summoning Hu Shanwei back from Yunnan. She said to Shen Qionglian: “No matter what, you were the Palace Supervisor assisting Noble Consort Quan. Now that Noble Consort Quan has died tragically and His Majesty is critically ill, you bear responsibility. At best you’ll be demoted, at worst executed—even I cannot protect you. However, once Hu Shanwei returns, she will surely plead for you. Her words carry more weight than mine, and you might save your life.”
Shen Qionglian didn’t want to die—she hadn’t yet experienced enough of life’s pleasures. At this point, she could only try her best to make amends. “The imperial physicians have already confirmed His Majesty was poisoned. I have sent all palace servants who were near His Majesty and Noble Consort Quan to the Palace Justice Department to recall everything His Majesty consumed today. His Majesty fell ill after returning from the banquet at Qianqiu Pavilion. This banquet was held for the thirty-seven Korean consorts from the Eastern and Western Quarters to meet His Majesty. I have already sealed all palace gates of the Eastern and Western Quarters, confining each person separately to prevent collusion, and am interrogating them one by one.”
Shen Qionglian was not someone who lived apart from worldly affairs. The palace poems written annually for occasions and the beautiful words of praise and merit were almost all from her hand. Born a female scholar champion with high education, a three-dynasty female official with rich work experience, she usually didn’t show her authority, but at crucial moments she could very much control the situation.
Noble Consort Zhang first went to see Noble Consort Quan. Noble Consort Quan had already grown cold, her horrific head wound covered by a false hairpiece. Due to excessive blood loss, even her lips were white, making her entire person like a paper figure—snow-white and serene, so unreal.
In a trance, the scene of Noble Consort Quan undressing for inspection and advising her not to fall in love with the emperor, to do well in her role as Noble Consort and be dedicated to her duties, seemed like yesterday.
She had always regarded Noble Consort Quan as an opponent, finding her disagreeable no matter what, thinking her hypocritical and affected—such a white lotus flower.
She had been wrong.
Noble Consort Zhang’s gaze sharpened as she instructed Shen Qionglian: “Have the Palace Justice Department employ their methods properly, and get Commander Ji to bring over the Brocade Guard prison interrogation tools. We must identify the poisoner before His Majesty awakens and give him an explanation. The journey from Kunming to the capital is long—by the time Hu Shanwei returns to plead for you, the snow on your grave will probably be waist-deep.”
With Noble Consort Zhang’s authorization, Shen Qionglian acted with even greater freedom.
The Brocade Guard’s methods could make even stones speak.
Under severe torture, not only did Lu Meiren, a key suspect, confess, but other uninformed people also began implicating each other. There were even confessions claiming certain people were Mongol Oirat spies plotting to harm the emperor and overthrow the Ming Dynasty.
Ji Gang looked at the mountain of confessions piled on his desk and first led the Brocade Guard to investigate the Lu family’s pharmacy, imprisoning all members of the Lu family.
The mushroom powder was terrifyingly potent. The imperial physicians administered medicine to induce vomiting and antidotes simultaneously. Emperor Yongle was nearly fifty years old, his body not what it used to be. Having been given such strong poison, he occasionally convulsed and foamed at the mouth even while unconscious—quite frightening.
Crown Prince’s heir Zhu Zhanji kept vigil by Emperor Yongle’s side without removing his clothes.
The Eastern Palace Crown Prince sealed the news, claiming His Majesty had caught a slight chill and was unwell, suspending court sessions for three days. Prince Han sensed something was wrong and wanted to enter the palace to visit Emperor Yongle and serve his ailing father. The Crown Prince refused Prince Han entry, citing the need for the emperor’s quiet recovery.
The imperial physicians had said that this mushroom poison affected people differently—some could consume it without incident, while others would die. It depended on individual constitution. Young people who ate it would celebrate wildly for three days and nights, then sleep for three days and nights before recovering.
Older people or those with weak constitutions couldn’t withstand the stimulation and would dance uncontrollably or indulge excessively until sudden death.
With Emperor Yongle’s life hanging in the balance, how could the Crown Prince dare let Prince Han enter?
The more the Crown Prince acted this way, the more suspicious Prince Han became, especially since his informants in the palace hadn’t sent any messages—most abnormal.
For Prince Han, a vassal prince, to force entry into the palace would constitute rebellion.
Prince Han devised a plan, thinking: the Crown Prince prevents me from entering the palace to see Father Emperor, but there are some people the Crown Prince cannot refuse—such as our sisters.
He couldn’t allow a son who commanded troops to see his father, but surely he couldn’t refuse married-off princesses from visiting their sick father.
Prince Han summoned his two younger sisters, Princess Yongping and Princess Ancheng. Not knowing the true extent of Emperor Yongle’s condition, he deliberately exaggerated, claiming their father might be critically ill, that the Crown Prince had sealed the palace and repeatedly refused his visits, and that he was very worried about their father’s health. He convinced both sisters to immediately prepare their princess carriages to enter the palace.
Especially the youngest, Princess Ancheng, spoiled by father and brothers, became quite angry: “I’d like to see who dares obstruct my sister and me!”
Prince Han deliberately advised: “Dear sister, don’t be impulsive. The Crown Prince is the heir apparent, and we are all subjects. We mustn’t lose face for the heir apparent.”
Princess Ancheng sneered: “When Father Emperor was on his northern campaign and the Crown Prince served as regent, we all listened to him. Now that Father Emperor has returned and the Crown Prince no longer holds regency power, everything is Father Emperor’s decision. If the Crown Prince still wants us to listen to him, that’s impossible!”
With that, Princess Ancheng stormed into the palace, with Princess Yongping following reluctantly. The last time the two sisters had spoken up for Prince Han, writing memorials about the Crown Prince’s lame leg and requesting the Crown Prince be deposed so he could rest properly, their father had scolded them and punished them by making them copy their mother’s “Inner Training” in Rouyi Hall, with Noble Consort Zhang checking their work.
This time, if their father was truly seriously ill, the sisters should be safe. But if their father wasn’t ill and everything was just Prince Han’s subjective speculation, then…
Well, one must enter the tiger’s den to catch tiger cubs. No matter what, they had to enter the palace to visit their father. The Crown Prince wouldn’t do anything to them anyway, and Father Emperor… wouldn’t harm them either. At worst, they’d be scolded again and made to copy “Inner Training” ten times.
The two princesses rushed into the palace. Indeed, the Crown Prince didn’t refuse his sisters entry and had Crown Princess Zhang and Secondary Consort Guo receive them.
At this time, Emperor Yongle was alternately conscious and unconscious. The mushroom powder toxin had paralyzed his nerves, leaving him unable to speak clearly or form complete sentences. His hands trembled and he couldn’t write—very much like an elderly stroke victim.
Even when conscious, he could only shake his head or nod in response.
Seeing their father in this condition, the two princesses were greatly alarmed. After inquiring about his condition from the imperial physicians, both princesses wept and remained in the palace, taking turns feeding him medicine and food.
When Emperor Yongle was occasionally conscious and hazily saw his two daughters attending to him tirelessly, his heart found some comfort. Seeing his crown prince’s heir maintaining order in Qianqing Palace also put him at ease—this eldest grandson was even more reliable than the Crown Prince. When he had personally campaigned, it was always this eldest grandson who held down Beijing, and Beijing had never experienced chaos under his watch. Now the Ming Dynasty would not fall into disorder.
After three days, Emperor Yongle could speak simple words—yes or no—though his speech remained unclear, but his mind had cleared.
Brocade Guard Commander Ji Gang, Noble Consort Zhang, and Acting Palace Supervisor Shen Qionglian read the confessions and guilty pleas to Emperor Yongle, asking him to decide how to handle the matter.
Upon hearing that Lu Meiren had put mushroom powder in the tea soup to emulate Empress Ki of the Yuan Dynasty’s path to success, Emperor Yongle nearly choked on his breath from rage!
So all thirty-seven consorts in the Eastern and Western Quarters were people with “great ambitions”! His harem only needed dutiful decorative vases—these ambitious women would only bring unstable variables.
Ji Gang read aloud other confessions obtained through the Brocade Guard’s torture, a bewildering array including adultery with eunuchs and Oirat spies plotting to assassinate the emperor. All were desperate attempts to escape guilt by implicating others, unleashing wild imagination that surpassed even writers on romance websites.
The result was that everyone in the Eastern and Western Quarters was suspect—not a single snowflake was innocent.
Noble Consort Zhang asked: “Your Majesty, this is the situation. How should these people be dealt with?”
Ji Gang said: “Currently, only Lu Meiren and Eunuch Yu have solid evidence against them. The others lack concrete proof—only confessions.”
Emperor Yongle used all his strength to straighten his tongue and uttered one word: “Kill!”
Crown Prince’s heir Zhu Zhanji, who had spent the most time with Emperor Yongle, asked: “The Eastern and Western Quarters have 1,079 people including consorts and palace servants—kill them all?”
Little Brother Chicken was now a mature political figure, but he retained some human kindness. The vast majority of these people were innocent—the Brocade Guard’s methods were too vicious.
Emperor Yongle had never felt so afraid and helpless. He didn’t know when he might recover. Right now he was like an infant in swaddling clothes, utterly without self-protection, even needing to be fed—the so-called dignity of an emperor seemed so laughable now.
It was all these people’s fault!
Emperor Yongle’s eyes burst with killing intent: “Kill… kill them all!”
Kill—only killing would make Emperor Yongle feel safe.
Everyone present was shocked upon hearing this, except for Ji Gang who remained calm as before: “Rest assured, Your Majesty. Tonight not even a bird will fly out of the Eastern and Western Quarters alive.”
Like Mao Qiang from the Hongwu era, Ji Gang was Emperor Yongle’s sharpest and most loyal blade—pointing wherever directed, striking without question. Whatever command Emperor Yongle issued, he would coldly execute. If ordered to kill entire families, he would kill entire families, not sparing even the guard dogs.
The Brocade Guard killed without need for death penalty trials. The 1,079 lives were merely numbers to them.
As easy as using a mouse to click “Select All” and “Delete”—effortlessly handled.
The 1,079 corpses were all transported to the outskirts for cremation—like clicking “Empty Trash.”
Now, in Qianqing Palace, the two princesses attending to their father saw he still couldn’t speak and began to panic. Remembering Prince Han’s instructions, they discussed, and Princess Yongping remained in the palace with their father while Princess Ancheng left to report to Prince Han.
Princess Ancheng had just left Qianqing Palace when she encountered Cao Siyan.
Cao Siyan led a group from the Palace Justice Department blocking the path: “Noble Consort requests Princess Ancheng come speak with her.”
Princess Ancheng most detested Noble Consort Zhang, who checked her homework!
Princess Ancheng sneered: “Wasn’t the Noble Consort long ago confined to Yanxi Palace by Father Emperor? How did she get out? Such audacity to disobey imperial orders.”
Cao Siyan said: “Princess, don’t listen to rumors. His Majesty never issued any edict confining the Noble Consort. Last year the Noble Consort fell ill and needed quiet recuperation, so Noble Consort Quan temporarily took charge of the harem.”
This was a fortunate coincidence. Because Emperor Yongle had to consider the face of the Zhang family of the Duke of Ying, he couldn’t openly demote Noble Consort Zhang, so no imperial edict was ever issued—only verbal mention of “recuperation.” Officials never spoke plainly, leaving people to interpret meanings themselves.
Princess Ancheng said: “I won’t go. If the Noble Consort has something to say, let her come speak with me herself.”
Princess Ancheng ignored Cao Siyan’s attempts to stop her and strode away. The palace personnel dared not forcibly obstruct a princess and watched helplessly as she left.
Cao Siyan remained calm—after all, the real Buddha lay ahead. She was merely buying time.
Halfway along her path, Princess Ancheng encountered another group approaching, also traveling under princess banners in grand procession through the heavy snow.
Moreover, this was an elder.
Princess Ancheng followed imperial family protocol and yielded the way, letting her aunt pass first.
Princess Huaiqing had entered the palace.
Due to her contributions in supporting the dragon’s ascent, Princess Huaiqing was the most prestigious among all of Emperor Yongle’s sisters. Furthermore, Princess Huaiqing’s consort Wang Ning had been executed by Emperor Jianwen for supporting Emperor Yongle and taking the blame for the princess. Additionally, when Emperor Yongle’s younger brother Prince Zhou Zhu Su had been falsely accused of treason, it was Princess Huaiqing who ran about everywhere and saved Prince Zhou’s family.
Therefore, after Emperor Yongle ascended the throne, he especially revered Princess Huaiqing, as did the Eastern Palace Crown Prince and others.
Princess Huaiqing stopped and said: “Ancheng, I heard His Majesty is ill, so I came to the palace to visit.”
Princess Ancheng’s eyes reddened: “Aunt, Father Emperor’s health… isn’t very good.”
Princess Huaiqing said: “If it’s not good, why aren’t you staying by His Majesty’s side instead of leaving the palace? What could be more important now than His Majesty’s recovery? Come, return with me. Your father loves you children most—seeing you by his side will cure half his illness.”
With that, not allowing Princess Ancheng to resist, Princess Huaiqing took her niece’s hand and led her back.
Cao Siyan reported this matter to Noble Consort Zhang, who smiled to Hu Shanwei beside her: “How fortunate that Palace Supervisor Hu has such influence and seniority, able to request Princess Huaiqing to enter the palace and take charge. Even my words as stepmother carry no weight.”