Xie Jin was the top scholar from Jiangxi—a region known as the brutal battleground of imperial examinations—the xieyuan (first place) in provincial exams, the number one talent of the Yongle era, editor-in-chief of the “Great Ming Legal Code,” and the Ming Dynasty’s first cabinet secretary.
Literary leader, political celebrity, former imperial confidant—Emperor Yongle had once spoken from his heart: “The realm cannot go a day without me, and I cannot go a day without Xie Jin.”
Believing Emperor Yongle’s words was like believing ghosts existed in this world.
People change, especially monarchs.
The same mouth that had spoken those words also said: “Is Xie Jin still alive?”
The second most difficult enemy on Ji Gang’s death list had finally been successfully killed by borrowed blade—frozen to death. Xie Jin had become “thawed.”
Ji Gang looked at the “thawed” Xie in the snow pile. Every winter, the streets were littered with frozen corpses of homeless people and drunkards.
When they were near freezing to death, each one became delirious, stripping off clothes and acting as if very hot, like it was summer, clawing at their chests with both hands, wishing they could shed their skin to cool down. Their death poses were all similar.
Now, the once greatest talent under heaven was no different from countless frozen corpses on the streets.
Life was so fragile—before death, all people were equal.
Are kings and nobles born different?
Since I’ve decided to avenge Commander Mao, no matter how high their office or lofty their position, I will drag them all down to hell with me!
Thinking this, Ji Gang smiled silently at the “thawed” Xie in the snow pile.
At the Crown Prince’s Heir Palace of the Ming Dynasty.
Zhu Zhanji, at the center of the “depose Crown Prince, establish Crown Prince’s heir” whirlpool, took out his pocket watch to check the time. The palace gates would close soon—Palace Supervisor Hu would be leaving the palace.
Since Mu Chun’s injury and serious illness that nearly cost his life, Palace Supervisor Hu suddenly felt a sense of crisis, believing life was short and she should spend more time with family. She rarely stayed overnight in the palace anymore, trying to return home daily to have dinner with Mu Chun and A’Lei.
Since her release from confinement, Noble Consort Zhang had become like a different person. The way she looked at Emperor Yongle no longer held lingering attachment—she had completely given up hope, no longer harboring any fantasies about love or children, focusing wholeheartedly on fulfilling her role as Noble Consort.
Noble Consort Zhang no longer even bothered maintaining her Kardashian-like curvaceous figure. She ate and drank as she pleased, and when hungry late at night, she’d have the imperial kitchen prepare midnight snacks without dietary restrictions.
Soon, Zhang Kardashian had become Zhang Yang Guifei, with even more Noble Consort dignity and authority.
With Noble Consort Zhang’s high family status giving her confidence, having no attachments, no fears, free from inverted delusions, she broke through the final layer of constraints. Dedicated to her duties, she managed the harem with perfect order.
Neither “Records of Noble Consort Duanjing’s Daily Life” nor countless words from Hu Shanwei had made Noble Consort Zhang see reality clearly—it was Noble Consort Quan’s death and the over one thousand lives lost in the Eastern and Western Quarters that brought Noble Consort Zhang to complete enlightenment.
With Noble Consort Zhang controlling the harem, Hu Shanwei could relax and leave work on time.
Seeing it was about time on his pocket watch, Zhu Zhanji picked up a paperweight from his desk and smashed it violently against the watch!
The perfectly good pocket watch was destroyed—the glass face shattered and tiny gears spilled out like intestines.
Zhu Zhanji was satisfied. He wrapped the broken watch in a handkerchief, placed it in a carved lacquer box, and called in a young eunuch who served with ink and brush.
“Wang Zhen, deliver this box to Palace Supervisor Hu. Tell her I accidentally dropped this pocket watch, and if Miss Hu has time, please help repair it. If it can be fixed, please fix it; if not, don’t force it. The scattered small parts inside can be used by Miss Hu for making other small items.”
“This servant obeys.” Wang Zhen took the box.
Wang Zhen was the scapegoat when Xie Jin was first schemed against by Prince Han. Xie Jin had fallen into the Eastern Palace Secretariat trap because of Wang Zhen’s message delivery, being framed for “secretly meeting” the Crown Prince. In the end, the Crown Prince was suspected, Xie Jin was demoted and exiled to Jiaozhi, and Wang Zhen was dragged to the Judicial Department for severe interrogation, nearly beaten to death.
Young eunuchs were government slaves with lives worth less than ants—no one cared whether they lived or died. At that time, Hu Shanwei, seeing he was the same age as A’Lei and was small and innocent, felt compassionate and asked the Judicial Department not to make things difficult for him.
Later, the Crown Prince got Wang Zhen out and sent him to the Ceremonial Directorate’s Inner Study Hall to continue his education. The Inner Study Hall required four years to graduate. Wang Zhen had already studied for three years, and after another year passed, all of Wang Zhen’s grades were excellent. Last year when the Crown Prince’s eldest son was enfeoffed as Crown Prince’s heir and moved out of the Eastern Palace, a new Crown Prince’s Heir Palace was built requiring staff, so Wang Zhen entered the Crown Prince’s Heir Palace to serve.
Coming from the Inner Study Hall background, Wang Zhen was learned, wrote beautiful calligraphy, was clever and articulate, and spoke well. He thus earned Zhu Zhanji’s favor, serving with ink and brush in the study and becoming a trusted confidant.
Through careful calculation, Wang Zhen “coincidentally” encountered Hu Shanwei leaving work in the inner corridor, just as new Inner Study Hall students were lining up after school to compose poetry.
Having just enrolled recently, several students couldn’t compose poems. According to the Ming Dynasty version of Hengshui Middle School rules at the Inner Study Hall, if anyone in a row couldn’t produce a poem, the entire row of young eunuchs would take turns humiliating and slapping the offender as punishment.
When Hu Shanwei passed by, the slapping sounds were like New Year firecrackers. Each strike was solid and real, but no one made a sound or cried. The Inner Study Hall was the only path upward for young eunuchs—to climb up, they must first study well.
“Please wait, Palace Supervisor Hu.” Wang Zhen held the box, bowed to Hu Shanwei, explained his purpose, and relayed the Crown Prince’s heir’s words.
Having previous contact, Wang Zhen was already familiar to Hu Shanwei, making conversation easy.
Hu Shanwei opened the carved lacquer box. Inside, a pure white silk handkerchief held a broken pocket watch—nothing else.
A’Lei enjoyed tinkering with these things, finding it amusing. Calling it help was actually satisfying A’Lei’s desire to repair watches.
Hu Shanwei said: “I understand. I’ll take it back for her to see. If it can still be saved, I’ll inform the Crown Prince’s heir.”
Wang Zhen smiled: “Miss Hu has extraordinary talent. This servant gets dizzy just looking at these tiny scattered parts. This wooden box is cumbersome—let this servant carry it and escort it to the carriage for Palace Supervisor Hu.”
Wang Zhen was very perceptive, seizing every opportunity to climb up. Hu Shanwei, having also risen from the bottom step by step, understood Wang Zhen. She wasn’t averse to ambitious people and let him carry it, escorting her all the way to the waiting carriage outside the palace.
Wang Zhen delivered the box to the carriage and complained it wasn’t warm enough inside, ordering people to add plenty of smokeless silver frost charcoal to the brazier.
Though the palace now forbade spreading rumors about “deposing Crown Prince, establishing Crown Prince’s heir,” palace people had a sense—mainly because the limping Crown Prince’s health was too poor, very likely to die before Emperor Yongle. The Ming imperial palace would inevitably belong to the Crown Prince’s heir sooner or later. Wang Zhen was a favored person beside the Crown Prince’s heir. As they say, when one person achieves the Way, even dogs and chickens ascend to heaven—as soon as Wang Zhen spoke, someone immediately brought charcoal.
The young eunuch who had once been dying in the Judicial Department was gradually making something of himself.
Hu Shanwei was quite moved. She boarded the carriage and opened the carved lacquer box for careful examination.
“My family has a daughter just grown up”—Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun had built their courtyard walls high, fearing their daughter would be carried off by someone—especially by Ming imperial family members.
Zhu Zhanji had been scheming since childhood. Hu Shanwei feared he might have inappropriate thoughts about A’Lei, so she’d always been very careful.
Moreover, with Zhu Zhanji currently at the center of controversy, as Palace Supervisor, she couldn’t let A’Lei get involved.
First, Hu Shanwei opened the handkerchief wrapping the watch. This was a pure white silk handkerchief with no embroidered patterns—apparently just for wrapping.
Then, Hu Shanwei gently tapped the four sides of the box, listening to the echo to test whether the box had hidden compartments.
It didn’t—just a carved lacquer box.
Finally, Hu Shanwei pulled out all the velvet padding in the box and examined each piece, finding nothing unusual.
Perhaps I’m overthinking, Hu Shanwei thought, restoring everything to its original state.
Returning home, the family of three ate dinner. After the meal, while chatting around the brazier, Hu Shanwei gave the box to A’Lei, explaining its origin. “…It’s agreed—repair it tomorrow. Tonight, go to sleep properly and don’t strain your eyes.”
A’Lei most loved tinkering with these broken clocks and watches. Each time she fixed something, she felt very accomplished. She couldn’t wait to open the box: “I’ll just see what condition it’s in—I won’t repair it tonight.”
A’Lei examined the broken pocket watch under lamplight with a Western glass magnifying glass. Mu Chun gave Hu Shanwei a meaningful look. Being an old married couple, Hu Shanwei understood and went outside with Mu Chun.
Mu Chun said quietly: “Did you… check it?”
Hu Shanwei said: “I secretly examined it in the carriage. It’s just a broken watch—nothing else.”
Mu Chun sighed: “When the girl grows up, it’s worrying.”
Hu Shanwei nodded: “I heard the new capital Beijing is being built quickly. It can probably be completed for relocation within five years. Then I can finish my duties and leave.”
Mu Chun looked worried: “Will His Majesty really let you go? Last time when you went to Kunming to care for my illness and left the harem to Shen Qionglian, disaster struck and over a thousand people died.”
Hu Shanwei said: “His Majesty promised me.”
Mu Chun shook his head: “His Majesty also once said he couldn’t go a day without Xie Jin. What happened? Today Xie Jin died in the imperial prison.”
“What?” Hu Shanwei was incredulous. “Is this really true?” She’d been in the harem all day and didn’t know about outside events.
Mu Chun said: “This morning the Brocade Guard carried Xie Jin’s corpse to the Xie family home. Reportedly, Xie Jin died horribly. The Xie family members and some of Xie Jin’s students and old friends collectively went to beat the complaint drum, crying injustice for Xie Jin. They were all tied up and taken away by the Brocade Guard. All the Xie family property was confiscated, the doors sealed, and the entire family was exiled to the bitter cold of Liaodong, leaving the city that very day.”
Hu Shanwei felt suddenly chilled: “Xie Jin’s family was destroyed, yet both the Eastern Palace and Crown Prince’s Heir Palace in the harem remained calm as still water, as if nothing had happened. The Crown Prince is one thing, but the Crown Prince’s heir is so young yet can remain so steady. This generation’s Crown Prince and Crown Prince’s heir are different from the last generation—even I can’t guess the outcome now.”
Honestly, if the previous generation’s Crown Prince Zhu Biao and Crown Prince’s heir Zhu Yunwen had half the wisdom and patience of current Zhu Gaochi and Zhu Zhanji father and son, the Ming Dynasty’s future wouldn’t have involved Emperor Yongle at all.
While the old couple spoke privately outside, A’Lei in the room glanced at the two shadows in the window from the corner of her eye and spread out the pure white handkerchief wrapping the watch, holding it over the charcoal fire to warm it.
The handkerchief emitted a citrus-like fragrance, then faint writing appeared on the white silk.
A’Lei threw the handkerchief with revealed writing into the brazier to destroy the evidence. The flames eagerly embraced the handkerchief, quickly turning it to charcoal.
When the Spring-Wei couple returned, A’Lei had returned to normal, using a magnifying glass to observe the watch’s damage. Mu Chun sniffed the air like a dog: “Why is there a sour smell?”
A’Lei pointed her chin toward segments of honey oranges on the fruit plate: “I just peeled oranges for you.”
Mu Chun looked—outside was an icy world, but now his heart melted. He patted A’Lei’s head: “So good.”
The couple ate oranges personally peeled by their daughter, sweet in mouth and heart, exchanging glances: daughters are the best!
Then the steward reported that Prince Han’s heir had come to visit.
Little Puddle Brother had grown like fertilized plants these past two years, developing remarkably fast—at only thirteen, he looked like an eighteen-year-old youth.
Zhu Zhanhe’s appearance and temperament were exactly like young Emperor Yongle—grandfather and grandson were too similar.
Zhu Zhanhe had just returned from military training at the camp. Entering the hall now, he carried an aura of iron horses and weapons. His voice was somewhat hoarse from adolescent voice change as he pulled something from his chest: “Is Sister A’Lei here? Today while riding, my pocket watch chain broke and fell to the ground, where a horse’s hoof stepped on it and damaged it. Could you help repair it?”
Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun exchanged glances again: What a coincidence that cousin brothers’ pocket watches both broke in one day. Get lost!
Zhu Zhanhe felt the atmosphere wasn’t right, especially Mu Chun—why did he have killing intent?
Mu Chun reached out to Zhu Zhanhe: “Let me see it.”
Zhu Zhanhe handed it over with both hands. Mu Chun glanced casually: “Horse hooves are fitted with iron shoes. One step would crush it completely. Yours isn’t thoroughly broken—you deliberately damaged it, right?”
Zhu Zhanhe loudly protested innocence: “Why would I damage a perfectly good watch? I wouldn’t waste things like that.”
Mu Chun now saw everyone as thieves trying to steal his daughter, especially the tall, imposing, and threatening Zhu Zhanhe. He returned the broken watch to Puddle: “My A’Lei isn’t a professional watch repairer. She’s been very busy lately with no time to fix yours. Find an outside clockmaker.”
Zhu Zhanhe asked: “What’s she been busy with?”
Mu Chun grew even more suspicious and quickly served tea to send the guest away: “It’s none of the prince’s business. It’s getting late—please return, Your Highness.”
After nightfall, Ji Gang entered his secret chamber.
He lit three incense sticks before Mao Qiang’s memorial tablet, then picked up a red brush and circled Xie Jin’s name in the already half-worn register. He told Mao Qiang’s portrait: “Commander Mao, the enemies who killed you have almost all gone to hell to accompany you. The second most difficult, Xie Jin, has also gone. Now only the last and most difficult one remains. If your spirit has knowledge, please bless my successful revenge.”
Ji Gang turned to the last page, where only one name remained without a red circle.
It read: “Zhu Ming Dynasty.”
Ji Gang poured two cups of wine, one for Mao Qiang and one for himself: “The Zhu family has always treated us like knives, never as people. When birds are gone, the good bow is stored away; when cunning rabbits die, hunting dogs are cooked. You and I were different. You were Emperor Gaozhu’s adopted son, serving him with your life, loyal to the end. When he wanted you dead, having you executed by slow slicing to appease public anger, you clearly had chances to escape but for so-called loyalty, only arranged for me alone to flee while you died for your master, achieving so-called loyalty.”
“I fled north to serve Prince Yan, helping him seize the throne. With dynastic change, I destroyed Emperor Gaozhu’s chosen successor, used borrowed blades to eliminate all officials who impeached you, avenging you. Now my situation resembles yours—time for the hunting dog to be cooked.”
“However, I won’t sit and await death. The Zhu family treats us as chess pieces, so I’ll treat the Zhu family as chess pieces, using imperial power to incite them to kill each other, borrowing blades for murder. When the Zhu Ming Dynasty falls into chaos, I won’t repeat your fate of being killed by Emperor Yongle as a hunting dog to appease public anger.”
“You always said: when the ruler demands a subject’s death, the subject must die. You were wrong. When the ruler demands a subject’s death, why must the subject die? I refuse! Are kings and nobles born different? We’re all flesh and blood!”