SWDnovel Chapter 5 A Shocking Change in the Forbidden City, Knocking on the Door of the West Garden
Chapter 5 A Shocking Change in the Forbidden City, Knocking on the Door of the West Garden
Beijing, the inner city.
Zhu Di walked on Qipan Street.
One hundred and thirty-eight years later, I once again stepped onto the street that I had personally planned.
He didn't say a word.
Zhu Zaiyi followed behind him without saying a word.
The streets are still the same streets. Zhengyangmen Street, Qipan Street, Chang'an Street—the names haven't changed. But the people on the streets have changed.
Zhu Di saw merchants dressed in silk sitting in teahouses, with more than a dozen kinds of snacks on the table. They would eat a couple of bites and then have them taken away. He saw street vendors hawking their wares, some selling Western mirrors, some selling Persian spices, and some selling Japanese folding fans.
These things didn't exist in his time.
But he also saw a beggar squatting in the corner, his tattered cotton-padded jacket revealing dark cotton wadding, and he didn't even have shoes on his feet. He saw the officials whipping a farmer who couldn't pay his taxes, the farmer's face covered in blood, and none of the onlookers dared to utter a sound.
Zhu Di stopped in his tracks.
He glanced at the farmer.
The farmer, in his forties and skin and bones, knelt on the ground and kowtowed to the officials, his forehead striking the bluestone slab once, twice, three times.
The officials were still cursing.
Zhu Di's hand twitched.
Zhu Zaiyi pressed down on his arm.
"Grand Ancestor, now is not the time."
Zhu Di's cheeks puffed out.
He lowered his hand.
Keep going.
Pass through the Daming Gate.
Crossing the Heavenly Street.
Chengtian Gate is just ahead.
Zhu Di was all too familiar with this city gate. In the eighteenth year of the Yongle reign, he stood in this very spot, gazing at the newly completed city tower, and said something to Xia Yuanji beside him.
"This gate is the main gate of the world, and it is not opened except for grand ceremonies."
He set a rule: only the emperor could pass through the central gate of Chengtian Gate.
Now, he's back.
The guards at the gate were members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
The leader was a commander in his thirties, with an embroidered spring knife hanging from his waist. He was sitting in the doorway, warming himself by the fire. It was the twelfth lunar month, so cold that he couldn't even stretch out his hands. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and dozed off, his neck hunched over.
Zhu Di walked up to him.
Qianhu didn't look up, assuming it was some ignorant commoner, and waved his hand impatiently: "Go away, go away, this is not a place for you."
Zhu Di stood still.
"Call your manager here."
The commander raised his head and glanced at Zhu Di.
White hair. Square face. Tiger eyes.
Qianhu was stunned for a moment.
Why does this face look so familiar?
He couldn't remember where he had seen it before, but a sudden chill ran down his spine.
"Who are you?" The commander stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "This is the main gate of the imperial city. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to approach. If you don't leave, don't blame me for being impolite."
Zhu Di raised his long sword and held it horizontally in front of his chest.
Four characters are inscribed on the sword.
Made by Emperor Yongle.
Qianhu stared at those four words, his eyes widening.
He was a commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, a fifth-rank official. He had served in the capital for twelve years; what treasures hadn't he seen in the palace? Several imperial weapons from the Yongle era were kept in the Wuying Hall. He could tell the difference at a glance the shape of the sword, the engraving technique, and the age of the patina.
This sword is real.
Something from over a hundred years ago.
But the person wielding the sword...
The commander's gaze shifted from the sword to Zhu Di's face.
Square face. Thick eyebrows. High nose. Long beard. Tiger-like eyes.
His mind went blank.
Imperial Ancestral Temple.
He goes to the Imperial Ancestral Temple to kowtow every year.
He knelt on the ground and looked at those portraits countless times.
One of them depicts the Yongle Emperor.
Emperor Chengzu Wen.
Zhu Di.
The commander's hand slid off the hilt of the sword.
His lips began to tremble.
"You...you...you are..."
Zhu Di looked at him.
"Open the door."
Just two words.
Qianhu's body acted before his mind.
He turned around and shouted at the soldiers warming themselves by the fire inside the city gate: "Open the middle gate!"
The soldiers were dumbfounded.
"My lord, the central gate is the imperial road; only the Emperor can pass through..."
"Just drive it when I tell you to!"
The commander's voice cracked.
The soldier dared not ask any more questions and hurriedly pushed open the door.
The heavy palace gates creaked open slowly.
Zhu Di, carrying his sword, stepped onto the imperial road.
Zhu Zaiyi followed behind.
The commander knelt beside the doorway, his forehead pressed to the ground, trembling all over. He dared not raise his head, nor dared he ask a question.
He only knows one thing.
The sky is about to fall.
The two passed through the end gate.
When the eunuch guarding the Duanmen Gate saw Zhu Di, he first frowned, then froze, then dropped the whisk in his hand to the ground, took three steps back, bumped into a pillar, his mouth wide open, unable to utter a single word.
The two passed through the Meridian Gate.
The commander of the Imperial Guards guarding the Meridian Gate was a third-rank military officer in his forties, with a thick beard and a fierce face. When he saw Zhu Di approaching, he instinctively wanted to reprimand him, but then he saw Zhu Di's face clearly.
He paused for two seconds.
Then he immediately knelt down.
My legs went weak, and I couldn't stand up.
Zhu Di walked past him.
The commander knelt on the ground, his back instantly soaked with cold sweat.
When the eunuch saw Zhu Di, he dropped what he was holding.
Upon seeing Zhu Di, the palace maid collapsed to the ground.
When the guard saw Zhu Di, he first gripped his knife, but upon seeing the face clearly, he dropped the knife and ran away.
No one dared to stop them.
No one dared to ask.
Because every official in this palace had visited the Imperial Ancestral Temple.
Everyone has seen that portrait.
Everyone knows what that person's face looks like.
West Garden, Wanshou Palace.
The smoke from the red incense was thick and swirling.
Zhu Houcong squatted in front of the alchemy furnace, his eyes bloodshot.
He hasn't slept for three days.
He spent a full forty-nine days refining this batch of pills. The furnace contained cinnabar, sulfur, mercury, mica, and forty-nine other medicinal herbs that he couldn't name.
The alchemist told him that this was called the "Nine-Turn Rejuvenation Pill".
It can grant immortality if consumed.
He believed it.
He desperately wanted to live.
"Is the time here yet?" Zhu Houcong asked in a hoarse voice.
The young Taoist priest beside him glanced at the water clock, his voice trembling, "Your Majesty, it's still a quarter of an hour."
"It's almost...almost done..."
Zhu Houcong rubbed his hands together and paced back and forth in front of the alchemy furnace.
His hair was disheveled, his Taoist robe was stained with medicine, and his fingernails were filled with black pill residue. His face was illuminated by the firelight, and the light in his eyes, like the fire in the furnace, flickered frighteningly.
He no longer resembles an emperor.
Like a madman.
at this time
"boom!"
The gate of Wanshou Palace was kicked open.
It's not about pushing it away.
It's a kick.
The two vermilion palace doors flew off the doorframes and crashed into the white marble railings in the courtyard, shattering into several pieces.
Zhu Houcong was so frightened by the loud noise that he almost fell headfirst into the alchemy furnace.
He turned his head abruptly.
There were two people standing at the door.
An elderly man with white hair, burly in build, carrying a sword in his hand, exuding a menacing aura.
A gray-robed boy, his hands tucked into his sleeves, stood expressionless.
Zhu Houcong was stunned for a moment, then flew into a rage.
"How dare you! Who are you people! How dare you trespass into my Longevity Palace!"
He yelled at the top of his lungs, "Guards! Protect the Emperor! Seize these two assassins!"
He called out three times.
There was no sound outside.
Zhu Houcong's heart sank.
Unbeknownst to him, from Chengtian Gate to Xiyuan, all the guards, eunuchs, and palace maids along the way either knelt on the ground, too afraid to move, fainted from fright, or ran to the guards at the Imperial Ancestral Temple to confirm the portrait.
No one came to protect him.
Zhu Di did not look at him.
Zhu Di was looking at the alchemy furnace.
The enormous bronze furnace was taller than a person, its surface covered with crooked and twisted runes. The fire was blazing, and black smoke billowed from the gaps in the lid.
The air was filled with the stench of sulfur and mercury.
Zhu Di's face grew increasingly grim.
He recalled the songs and dances on the canal.
I thought of the barren fields.
I remembered the farmer whose face was covered in blood after being beaten.
He recalled the deficit in the Ministry of Revenue's accounts.
I was reminded of the twenty million taels that Yan Song embezzled.
He traveled through most of Beijing and saw a Ming Dynasty riddled with problems.
And his descendant, the current emperor, is squatting in front of a broken furnace, refining his mother's elixir of immortality.
Zhu Di's knuckles turned white as he gripped the sword hilt.
He took a step.
step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Each step was taken with great force.
Zhu Di walked up to the alchemy furnace.
He glanced down at the fire in the stove.
Then lift your right foot.
"No"
"boom!"
Zhu Di kicked the alchemy furnace.
The bronze furnace, weighing over 4,000 jin (approximately 2,000 kg), was kicked so hard that a large dent was created. The entire furnace flew backward, overturning the wooden frame behind it, and shattering the bottles and jars on the frame all over the ground.
The stove lid flew off.
The stove tipped over.