Within Huagai Hall, from the moment the fate of the Zhao clan under Yuan was mentioned, Zhu Yuanzhang's brows had already drawn tight.
"So this Chongzhen was the last emperor of our Great Ming, and even his temple name was altered by that barbarian bandit?"
"All ministers were ministers of a fallen state… heh, a pack of traitors who ruined the realm."
The words were too blunt to require any interpretation.
Moreover, from the manner in which Chongzhen spoke, it seemed that at the time of Ming's fall the Son of Heaven still possessed a certain bearing, and that alone allowed Zhu Yuanzhang to release a quiet breath.
He would never wish to see a scene such as Zhao Xian, a child emperor surrendering and thereafter being handled at another's whim.
What followed from the young narrator accorded with what he already knew.
A dignified prince of the Zhao Song house had taken a Mongol woman as wife, had been sent off to Tubo to study Buddhism, and in the end had been granted death under suspicion.
The more he watched, the more Zhu Yuanzhang slammed the table.
"What vow power? What reincarnation? What deep affection between father and son? Absurd nonsense."
After calming slightly and turning the thought over, he sneered.
"This Tibetan monk must think that at that time I was no longer among the living and unable to speak, and thus dares to fabricate such tales to delude the common people."
"How is it that the good Imperial Grandson, the Xuande Emperor, did not put this demon monk to justice, but allowed such outlandish talk to pass down to later ages?"
Though he spoke thus, Zhu Biao clearly saw that several glances were being cast toward Zhu Xiongying, and so he stepped forward at once.
"Father, if this man was a monk of Tubo, then what he wrote must have been meant only to bewitch the people of Tubo. If there was no text circulated in the Han language, how would the Xuande Emperor have known?"
That explanation held together. Zhu Yuanzhang forced down the unease in his heart and changed to a smile, rubbing Zhu Xiongying's head.
Yet when he turned his face aside he still muttered,
"Had I known earlier, I should not have concerned myself with that Iron Pot. If he had died in Dadu, perhaps there would have been fewer troubles."
Zhu Biao understood. The Yuan Shundi bore a barbarian name difficult to pronounce, but translated into Xia Yan it meant Iron Pot, and so they had all called that Hu Yuan emperor by that name.
After venting somewhat, Zhu Yuanzhang turned again to the final evaluation of the Two Songs and spoke with gravity.
"To govern by drawing lessons from former dynasties is like sifting gold from sand."
"The sand and dust of Song have already been named by later generations. You must take them as warning, so that our Great Ming does not fall again into such shackles."
"The true gold of Song has also been stated clearly. As for how it should be used, I need not spell it out."
"I only hope that the governance of Yongle will surpass Hongwu by a great margin, and that Xuande need only not fall short of you. In my heart that would already be… absurd."
Zhu Biao had been listening with lowered head to his father's gentle instruction, when a sudden shout struck him so violently that the world spun before his eyes. Had there not been a chair beside him he might have collapsed outright.
Before Empress Ma could show anger, Zhu Yuanzhang was already flustered.
"Biao'er, your father was not speaking of you. It is only that later generations dare to spread rumors upon your name. How can I endure it?"
Still dizzy, Zhu Biao turned his head. Upon the enormous light screen nearly two men in height, every character was perfectly clear, and he quickly found the passage that concerned his father.
"So this is my Tibetan name?"
He examined it carefully and committed it to memory.
He had heard his father speak of his Tibetan name, of Yongle, of the praise of later ages, but this was the first time he had seen it with his own eyes. Regarding its contents, he only gave a faint smile.
"These are but the baseless words of petty men. Later generations treat them as jest. Why should Father take them to heart?"
He said so, yet recalling the Divine Strategist Zhu Wu, recalling the talk of reincarnation, and then looking at the present slander about descendants and some hook whose meaning he did not even wish to know, the Son of Heaven of Ming ground his molars.
"In all my life I hate unofficial histories the most."
Empress Ma could not help finding this amusing. In the Yuan era he had never cared to read dramatic scripts, yet he especially enjoyed listening as she recounted from storybooks the various fabrications concerning Song and Yuan history. At that time he had shown no sign of hating unofficial histories.
But amusement aside, as the next lines drifted past, she too knit her brows.
"Chongba, that Baozong…"
The Son of Heaven of Ming slowly shook his head. Earlier it had been said that under Baozong Ming reached its utmost height, and now he understood that from the peak it must have turned toward decline because of this Baozong's misrule.
Chongzhen indeed appeared to be the unfortunate ruler under whom Ming perished. From his angry words and from the remark that Ming had died of poverty, could it be that Ming ultimately followed the old path of Tang?
But what did it mean that the civil officials found the water too cold?
If these still allowed some rough conjecture, the line about bandits dying for the altars and sea pirates guarding the frontier made his heart pound in alarm.
If it were true, it would only more vividly confirm Chongzhen's bitter declaration that all his ministers were ministers of a fallen state.
In that case it resembled Song again, with meritorious nobles and appointed officials corrupt and rotten, while commoners died in indignation for the country.
Seeing her husband's expression grow darker and darker, Empress Ma said with concern,
"Chongba…"
With a wave of his hand, Zhu Yuanzhang laughed in anger.
"If civil officials governed the people with care and generals fought bravely without fear of death, how could our Great Ming have fallen?"
"The signs of a fallen state are ever thus. How can one demand otherwise?"
He spoke so, yet seeing that his face was nearly as dark as that of Emperor Taizu of Song, who did not know that in his heart he demanded much?
No one at this moment would dare touch such ill fortune. Zhu Biao pondered briefly and spoke with caution.
"Father, the final two lines likely refer to personal names. 'Zicheng could not become self made' perhaps points to Li Zicheng."
Zhu Yuanzhang nodded faintly, his voice cold.
"Write them all down. In the future, if…"
He broke off with a sigh. Even if one knew the names, what could be done? As with Li Zicheng, who seemed to have exerted himself for Ming yet still failed, aside from the name nothing was known, not his native place nor his family. Even if one did know, what use would it be, when his grandfather might not yet have been born?
In the end the Son of Heaven waved his hand, interest drained away.
"Biao'er, tell me, why do corrupt officials who know only to enrich their own households never cease?"
If this question were given to the court's civil officials, most would speak of lost moral instruction and say that when the Great Way was implemented and all served the public, the realm would naturally achieve great harmony. If given to the remonstrance officials, none would dare at present to court misfortune before Father.
If he himself were to answer, Zhu Biao reflected, then slowly said,
"When oversight is not extensive, they collude together. When the heart holds no realm, it knows only to enrich the household. If vile and mediocre officials are not punished to extinction, then they will not cease."
At last a trace of a smile appeared on Zhu Yuanzhang's face.
He lifted his head and saw those who, to him, could be called forebears offering him consolation.
[Chat Server Log]
Zhao Kuangyin: Emperor Wen of Wei once said, there is no nation since ancient times that has not perished. You need not worry too much about things three hundred years from now, Hongwu.
Li Shimin: A nation with outspoken ministers will not lose its territory or its altars. Open the path for suggestions and select the best advice; Old Zhu, should be a model for ten generations.
Liu Bei: Since Ming restored the Han, then as long as the Han exists, the Ming continues. The future knows that Hongwu has already merged the 'Ming Spirit' with the 'Han Spirit,' making it eternal. What is there to grieve?
Zhu Yuanzhang's expression shifted slightly, and he slowly let out a long breath.