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The Emperor's Power Play: The Truth Behind Jiajing's 22 Years Away from Court
墨書 Inktalez
In the Forbidden City, in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, seated before the Golden Throne and the Nine-Dragon Screen, he sat with a deep and cold gaze. For twenty years, he had never stepped into this magnificent hall, yet every breath of the empire was under his control.
"I have a memorial to present, Your Majesty. You are obsessed with Mysticism and neglecting State Affairs, leading to the corruption of Court Affairs and causing The People to Live in Despair..." A sharp voice echoed in the hall. He slowly opened his eyes, a cold smile curling at the corners of his mouth; it had been a long time since he had heard that voice.
"Bold! How dare you speak recklessly about the Emperor! Guards, drag this madman out and execute him!" There was an uproar around him, with guards exchanging glances but none daring to step forward. He waved his hand, signaling for silence, his tone eerily calm: "I permit him to finish."
"Your Majesty, I dare to ask, is this world truly the Great Ancestor's world, or..." He suddenly stood up, flipping over the memorial before him. The dragon countenance was furious but did not deny.
The official's words came to an abrupt halt as he swallowed hard, feeling as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat, struggling to squeeze out a word: "Still... is it the Dao Ancestor's world?"
Silence fell—a deathly silence. The ministers held their breath, each one silent as a cicada in winter, fearing that even a slight sound would bring disaster upon themselves. Outside the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the north wind howled, stirring up fallen leaves and adding to the desolation.
The Jiajing Emperor coldly stared at the official, his gaze sharp as a knife, as if he wanted to cut him into pieces. "Are you questioning me?" he slowly spoke, his voice low yet carrying a chilling pressure.
The official trembled all over; his knees buckled and he knelt on the ground: "I... I do not dare."
The Jiajing Emperor sneered disdainfully, rising from the dragon throne and slowly walking towards the official. He looked down at him from above like gazing at an ant: "I am the Son of Heaven, ordained by Heaven itself. How dare you question my faith?"
He suddenly lifted his foot and kicked hard at the official's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. The official curled up in pain but dared not utter a sound.
"Come here!" The Jiajing Emperor roared angrily, and the guards immediately rushed forward to surround the official.
"Drag him down, fifty strokes of corporal punishment!" Emperor Jiajing ordered coldly, his tone filled with undeniable authority.
The guards obeyed the command, dragging the official out like a dead dog from the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The official's desperate wails echoed in the vast hall, lingering for a long time.
Emperor Jiajing returned to his dragon throne, his gaze sweeping over the ministers. Everyone lowered their heads in silence, fearing to draw attention to themselves. A cold smile crept across his lips as he thought, "I want to see who else dares to challenge my authority!" He slammed his hand on the armrest of the throne, producing a loud sound that startled all the ministers into silence.
"Dismissed!" The eunuch's sharp voice rang out in the hall. The ministers felt as if they had received a great pardon and quickly rose to leave in an orderly fashion.
Stepping out of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the warm sunlight fell upon them, but Zhang Cong felt a chill run down his back. He discreetly glanced at Yang Shen beside him and saw his pale face, tightly clenched fists, and eyes filled with anger and resentment. Zhang Cong sighed inwardly; it seemed this political storm was far from over.
As they exited the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the sunlight was blinding, causing Yang Shen's vision to darken. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the tumultuous emotions within him. Fifty strokes of the cane were an unbearable punishment for anyone, especially for a colleague over fifty years old. Thinking of this made his fists clench tighter, knuckles turning white.
"My brother, take care," Zhang Cong's voice sounded beside him, carrying a hint of barely concealed satisfaction.
Yang Shen turned sharply, glaring at Zhang Cong as he spoke each word deliberately: "Brother Zhang, don't you feel even a little cold-hearted? The emperor is so autocratic; must we remain silent?"
Zhang Cong chuckled dismissively, patting Yang Shen on the shoulder and speaking earnestly: "Brother Yang, you are still too young. Serving under the emperor is like being with a tiger; some matters are beyond our control. The emperor is angry right now; it's better for you to say less to avoid drawing fire upon yourself."
Yang Shen shrugged off Zhang Cong's hand and sneered: "Draw fire upon myself? I, Yang Shen, act justly and sit upright; what is there to fear? Yet you, Brother Zhang, willingly become a pawn for wealth and power—are you not afraid of being scorned in the future?"
Zhang Cong's smile gradually faded, his expression turning cold: "Yang Shen, do not slander me! I am merely someone who knows how to adapt to circumstances. If you remain stubborn and unyielding, you will eventually suffer the consequences!"
Having said that, Zhang Cong turned and left, leaving Yang Shen standing alone in place. Yang Shen watched Zhang Cong's departing figure, feeling a mix of anger and disappointment that left him feeling powerless. He knew that Zhang Cong's words were not without reason. Under the absolute authority of the Jiajing Emperor, any resistance seemed futile.
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