One who is neither deaf nor foolish cannot be a grandfather. A wise empress must understand that knowing means knowing and not knowing means not knowing. Ever since the third year of Hongwu, when Emperor Hongwu decided to launch the feudal system for princes that had been abolished for a thousand years, opposing voices from court ministers had been incessant. Now eleven years had passed, and ministers still frequently submitted memorials in opposition.
Emperor Hongwu had even abolished the chancellorship, wielding sole power to forcibly implement the feudal system.
Empress Ma clearly understood the drawbacks and hidden dangers of the feudal system. Wasn’t the lesson of the Rebellion of the Seven States in the Western Han Dynasty enough? But while ministers could oppose it, she alone could not. On the contrary, she had to mediate from within, persuading the furious Emperor Hongwu not to execute ministers who opposed him.
Because she was the empress.
As the legitimate mother of the princes, if the father wanted to distribute things (military power and fiefdoms) to his sons, it would be unloving for the legitimate mother to oppose it. The legitimate mother must protect all her sons—this was her responsibility. Just like when Prince Qin committed beastly evil acts and Emperor Hongwu wanted to punish him, Empress Ma had to remove her hairpins and plead guilty, begging Emperor Hongwu for forgiveness while taking responsibility for poor upbringing upon herself.
For example, when Crown Prince refused to preside over Noble Consort Sun’s funeral and went on hunger strike with Ministry of Rites officials, Empress Ma clearly found the crown prince’s disregard for human relationships deplorable, yet she still had to drag her weak body to Qianqing Palace to plead for the crown prince.
Like in later generations, whenever someone made mistakes, public commentary was mostly “What did your mother teach you?” Rarely did anyone say “What did your father teach you?” In moral education, throughout history, it had always been “widowed” education, with mothers forced to bear the blame for mistakes.
As the nation’s mother, if the emperor wanted to execute loyal ministers in anger and the empress didn’t persuade him, she would be neglecting her duties and failing in her maternal compassion as the nation’s mother.
But court rules also stated that the rear palace must not interfere in government affairs. The empress couldn’t meddle in national policies, or ministers’ spit would flood Kunning Palace, clamoring to depose the empress.
See the contradiction? This was typical of wanting the horse to run while not feeding it grass. When an empress’s responsibilities far exceeded the power she could wield, what else could she do besides remain silent and pretend to be confused while understanding clearly?
Someone would jump out and say, “If you know it’s wrong, why don’t you remonstrate unto death?”
Come, come, let this person go die first.
If death could persuade a founding emperor like Emperor Hongwu, then the Ming Empire’s Censorate could be renamed the slaughterhouse.
A meeting of minds needs but a hint. With Empress Ma’s light guidance, Hu Shanwei immediately understood how to handle Emperor Hongwu in the future.
First, regarding politics and governing strategies, regardless of her true feelings, she must stand on the same side as Emperor Hongwu—this was a matter of principle. The dragon’s reverse scale—touch it and die. Even Empress Ma dared not touch it, so what onion was Hu Shanwei?
Second, Emperor Hongwu governed his family the same way he governed the country. He was first and foremost an emperor, leaving only a tiny portion of his personality to be a father and husband. To him, family was the state and state was family—they were one.
So don’t expect to persuade Emperor Hongwu with emotions—using interests was more effective.
From Empress Ma’s few words, the “survivor” Hu Shanwei summarized the “Ming Palace Civil Servant Manual”—this would be her guide for frequently walking the line between life and death while remaining “untouched by a thousand flowers.”
Empress Ma gave Hu Shanwei the scroll of the comprehensive Ming map.
After the “Imperial Record of Filial Compassion” was promulgated, Noble Consort Sun was the first person buried according to the new ritual system. Emperor Hongwu granted her the posthumous title “Chengmu” and gave high praise: “…Diligent in serving superiors, compassionate in caring for subordinates. During the nation’s founding, she provided vigilant assistance and mutual support. Her virtue truly crowned the concubines, and her merit aided the inner palace.”
Finally, Noble Consort Sun Chengmu was buried alongside the Xiaoling Mausoleum.
Without Noble Consort Sun, Empress Ma was lonely. She became even more silent than before, often sitting alone in her study for entire days, barely turning the pages of books in her hands.
Every day, concubines from the Eastern and Western Six Palaces would come to Kunning Palace to pay respects to Empress Ma, just like officials attending court. Empress Ma refused to see any of them. Hu Shanwei had the concubines bow through a curtain and then sent them away.
Actually, Empress Ma wasn’t sitting behind the curtain at all. Without Noble Consort Sun, she didn’t want to see the chattering concubines, and she couldn’t stand their powder and rouge scents.
If Emperor Hongwu hadn’t come to Kunning Palace, Empress Ma wouldn’t speak a single word all day. With the six bureaus and one department in place, palace affairs continued according to precedent. With Superintendent Cao as the “mountain-suppressing elder” and Fan Gongzheng as the “sea-patrolling yaksha” presiding over things, even without Empress Ma’s management, palace affairs wouldn’t fall into disarray and continued in orderly fashion.
Everyone knew the emperor and empress were in poor spirits. No one in the Eastern and Western Six Palaces dared to invite bad luck. The autumn of the Ming palace passed in bleakness and depression.
Winter arrived.
Palace servants brought in charcoal baskets. Hu Shanwei, waiting outside for summons, quietly said: “Put it down, I’ll change it.”
The red charcoal in the study needed to be replenished about every hour to maintain warmth. Hu Shanwei carried the charcoal basket inside and discovered that Empress Ma had fallen asleep at some point, lying on the desk on the arhat couch, with a scroll fallen to the floor.
Hu Shanwei didn’t dare wake Empress Ma. She brought a pillow and blanket, removed the desk, then gently helped Empress Ma lie down and covered her. She picked up the book and used fire tongs to add charcoal to the brazier.
Having added about half, she faintly heard commotion outside. Hu Shanwei went out to investigate—it was Eastern Palace’s Concubine Lu bringing seven-year-old Imperial Grandson Zhu Xiongying and four-year-old second grandson Zhu Yunwen to Kunning Palace.
Imperial Grandson Zhu Xiongying was the legitimate eldest son born to the former Crown Princess Chang. Zhu Yunwen ranked second in the Eastern Palace and was born to Concubine Lu.
Concubine Lu’s eyes were red from crying. Zhu Xiongying remained silent, while Zhu Yunwen was confused.
Hu Shanwei first led the two imperial grandsons to the warm pavilion for snacks and had young palace maids play with them, then invited Concubine Lu to a side hall and ordered servants to bring hot water and rouge and powder: “Please let Concubine Lu fix her appearance. Even with urgent matters to see Empress Mother, it’s improper to appear disheveled. Crying and wailing would frighten the imperial grandsons.”
Concubine Lu dried her tears: “I know I’m being rash, knowing Empress Mother is in poor spirits yet barging into Kunning Palace. But the situation is urgent—I really had no other choice and had to come beg Empress Mother. Please, Court Secretary Hu, announce my presence.”
Hu Shanwei asked: “What matter causes such panic?”
It was still the same old story, again related to the treason case of Hu Weiyong, the Ming Dynasty’s former chancellor. Eastern Palace Grand Tutor Song Lian, along with Gao Qi and Liu Ji, were known as the three great masters of early Ming poetry and literature. Gao Qi was the poet Mu Chun would “never forget even as a ghost” because Gao Qi had written a preface for the “Duan’an Collection” by the eminent Jiangnan monk Chan Master Dao Yan, and Hu Shanwei was a devoted reader of Chan Master Dao Yan.
Song Lian was the crown prince’s most respected teacher, but Song Lian’s second son Song Pu and eldest grandson Song Shen were both involved in Hu Weiyong’s treason case. The reason was simple—Song Lian was Eastern Palace Grand Tutor, and Song Pu and Song Shen also served the court at that time, walking before the emperor as part of Emperor Hongwu’s secretarial staff.
Three generations serving at court, enjoying extreme honor—the Song family was a real-life version of “A Bed Full of Tablets.”
In Hu Weiyong’s treason case, the Imperial Guard investigated and found that Song Pu and Song Shen had “secret dealings” with Chancellor Hu Weiyong. Emperor Hongwu was furious and executed Song Pu and Song Shen’s entire families. Although Song Lian was innocent, he was implicated by his son and grandson and also faced the execution block.
Crown Prince Zhu Biao, respecting teachers and valuing morality, went to the imperial study to plead for his teacher Song Lian, begging Emperor Hongwu to spare Song Lian.
Emperor Hongwu executed the Song family because he had given full trust to three generations of the Song family, unprecedentedly ordering three generations to serve before the emperor. But Song Pu and Song Shen had private dealings with Chancellor Hu Weiyong—how could others sleep soundly beside one’s couch?
If those serving before the emperor colluded with the chancellor, this posed an almost fatal threat to the emperor.
The more Emperor Hongwu had trusted the three generations of the Song family, the more disappointed he was with the three of them now. As for Song Lian being innocent—if he couldn’t even manage his son and grandson properly, could he be called innocent? Let them all die!
Crown Prince Zhu Biao earnestly persuaded Emperor Hongwu: “Father Emperor, Song Pu and Song Shen deserve death—your son has no objection. But Song Lian is one of the three great masters of Ming poetry and literature, a leader in literary circles. If the implication extends to Song Lian, I fear it will chill the hearts of scholars throughout the realm. Scholars will say Your Majesty kills the innocent and harms Heaven’s harmony.”
Emperor Hongwu broke the wooden handle of a thorny staff used to punish palace servants and threw it on the ground: “Pick it up.”
“This…” Crown Prince Zhu Biao looked troubled—this was like a porcupine, impossible to grasp.
Emperor Hongwu said: “You cannot wield this staff. If I remove these thorns, polish it smooth, then give it to you—wouldn’t that be wonderful? The people I execute today are these thorns. They’re sinister and cunning, full of righteous words but secretly insatiable, colluding with Hu Weiyong, coveting shares of my power, wanting to manipulate me, deceive me. My imperial power will be passed to you, to Zhu family descendants for ten thousand generations—how can I allow others to take a share?”
“Song Lian is talented—I know this, or I wouldn’t have made him Eastern Palace Grand Tutor to be your teacher. But Song Lian has failed my trust. His son and eldest grandson wanted to rebel against me, and he didn’t know? Fine, even if he truly didn’t know, when the Imperial Guard found evidence, according to law, treason should be punished by execution. He should be ashamed and commit suicide in apology. Why does he still cling to life? Isn’t it because he wants you to plead for him? Crown Prince, you’re being used.”
Crown Prince Zhu Biao knelt down, begging Emperor Hongwu: “Your Majesty, according to law, treason should be punished by execution, but beyond law there is also human compassion and mercy. Please, Your Majesty, pardon Song Lian.”
“Mercy?” Emperor Hongwu laughed in anger. “My mercy is for the common people of the realm. Mercy toward criminals is cruelty to oneself and irresponsibility toward imperial power. Crown Prince, you can be merciful, but you cannot be held hostage and exploited by mercy.”
The crown prince argued: “Violence cannot be countered with violence. Above are the sage kings Yao and Shun, below are the people of Yao and Shun.”
Meaning: with merciful rulers come merciful people. With tyrannical rulers come tyrannical people. As they say, good horses deserve good saddles, broken pots deserve broken lids.
Well, theoretically according to Confucian learning, this was correct. But as an heir apparent, mechanically copying and having thoughts constrained by Confucian learning was troublesome.
Emperor Hongwu flew into a rage and chased the crown prince with a severe beating. Coming from rural Fengyang, according to his experience, when children disobeyed and talked back to parents, they were most likely spoiled—a few beatings would make them behave.
When Eastern Palace Concubine Lu heard the crown prince was being beaten, she hurriedly brought the two imperial grandsons to Kunning Palace to beg Empress Ma to plead for the crown prince. Crown Princess Chang had died, and as a mere concubine, she felt she had little influence, but the imperial grandsons were different. For the grandsons’ sake if not the monk’s, Empress Ma would save the crown prince.
The crown prince being beaten for contradicting Emperor Hongwu wasn’t a first or second occurrence. Each time, Empress Ma rushed to put out the fire. Empress Ma was always cleaning up after the crown prince and princes, feeling deeply weary, but she had to go.
If she knew the crown prince was being beaten but didn’t go persuade His Majesty, Empress Ma would be criticized as “unloving.”
Involving Empress Ma’s reputation, Hu Shanwei understood the severity and dared not delay, going to the study to wake Empress Ma.
Empress Ma was just napping, not sleeping deeply. While palace maids helped her wash and dress, Hu Shanwei explained the situation in a few words.
Empress Ma’s face was waxy yellow with a sickly appearance. When palace maids were about to apply powder and rouge, Empress Ma waved them away: “No need. Let’s go.”
She instructed Hu Shanwei: “Go tell Concubine Lu not to bring the two imperial grandsons before the emperor in the future, and don’t discuss these matters in front of the children. Having grandsons witness their father being beaten by their grandfather is ultimately improper and harmful to imperial family affection.”
Hu Shanwei had done well by first separating Concubine Lu from the two imperial grandsons. Adult matters, especially political ones, were best kept from children.
“Yes.” Hu Shanwei agreed.
Empress Ma stood up from her dressing table. Suddenly, golden stars danced before her eyes, her vision blurred, and her body went soft. Fortunately, Hu Shanwei was young and strong, catching Empress Ma.
Empress Ma collapsed onto an embroidered stool. Hu Shanwei said: “Your Majesty is in poor health. Don’t force yourself.”
Empress Ma weakly shook her head: “No, what about the crown prince’s situation? Sigh, this child has a good heart but always fails to distinguish between being heir apparent and being a scholar.”
Hu Shanwei’s eyes swept around the study, her gaze stopping on a painting: “Your Majesty, I have a method. You can save the crown prince without leaving your quarters, just need to…”
Empress Ma followed Hu Shanwei’s gaze—this was a “Carrying Child Painting” depicting when Crown Prince Zhu Biao was five years old. Emperor Hongwu had been defeated by enemy forces and routed. In the great chaos, Empress Ma had tied Zhu Biao to her back with rope, carried him while running frantically, seized a horse, and escaped to safety.
To commemorate Empress Ma’s life-saving grace, Zhu Biao later learned to paint and depicted this event in a painting. The young Empress Ma carried her young child, leading a horse with one foot already in the stirrup, about to mount, while behind them, pursuing soldiers approached.
This painting rendered the tense atmosphere perfectly. The crown prince presented it as a gift to Empress Ma, who always kept it hanging in her study.
Hu Shanwei explained her response method, persuading Empress Ma: “The crown prince is already twenty-six—a mature crown prince who should know how to save himself. He can’t always rely on Your Majesty to rescue him. Your Majesty is unwell and can’t possibly arrive in time every single time. If something happened… wouldn’t that also be Your Majesty’s fault?”
After hearing Hu Shanwei’s suggestion, Empress Ma’s body indeed couldn’t support her, so she agreed.
Hu Shanwei helped Empress Ma rest, ordering palace servants to summon Court Secretary Ru to treat the empress. She took down the “Carrying Child Painting” from the study, rolled it up, and carried the scroll out with both hands.
Concubine Lu’s face was full of expectation, but seeing only Hu Shanwei emerge, she was startled: “Court Secretary Hu, where is Empress Mother?”
Hu Shanwei said: “Empress Mother is unwell and sent me instead.”