Chapter Sixty-Four: Fang Congzhe and Dowager Consort Zheng

Cui Wensheng’s eyes widened in terror as he hastily replied, “This—this humble servant fears he cannot do it!”
Consort Zheng snorted coldly, glaring at Cui Wensheng. “Cui Wensheng, how did you promise me just now? Have you forgotten already?”
Cui Wensheng quickly tried to explain, “This, this may be…”
Grand Consort Zheng cut him off. “Don’t come to me, afraid of this or that! Are you not afraid I’ll go to the Emperor right now and tell him his illness is because of the medicine you gave him?”
At her words, sweat broke out in beads on Cui Wensheng’s forehead. Still, he protested, “But all this…”
Grand Consort Zheng interrupted again, “All what? You want to say it was all done at my command, don’t you? Hmph! What proof do you have that I ordered you? Who do you think the Emperor will believe, me or you?”
Sweat poured down Cui Wensheng’s face; cornered, he finally surrendered. “Your Highness, this servant admits his error! I will follow your every instruction.”
A rare smile appeared on Grand Consort Zheng’s face. “That’s a good boy. Don’t worry, once this is done, I won’t let you suffer. Go now and prepare.”
After Cui Wensheng left, Grand Consort Zheng gazed at the stormy sky and murmured, “Changxun, what your father did not give you, your mother will give. I will make sure you ascend the throne! You must not let me down.”
Meanwhile, Zhu Hao, tossing restlessly in his own palace, could never have imagined that, in just a few minutes, his father’s fate had been completely reversed—and his Central Intelligence Bureau hadn’t sensed a thing.
In the Palace of Heavenly Purity, the Emperor’s awakening brought relief to all the maids and eunuchs. The worry on their faces faded, replaced by joy in their brows. Yet, for fear of disturbing the Emperor’s rest, everyone moved quietly, keeping the palace silent.
At midnight, the chief eunuch of the Office of Ceremonial Affairs, Cui Wensheng, carrying a porcelain bottle, approached Zhu Changluo and softly roused him from his slumber.
Zhu Changluo forced open his drowsy eyes, looking at Cui Wensheng kneeling at the foot of his bed. “Wensheng, why wake me so late? Has something major happened in the court?”

Cui Wensheng knelt in fear and explained, “Your Majesty, as the eunuch in charge of the medicine chamber, seeing Your Majesty’s illness, I am deeply distressed. After careful analysis and many years studying medicine, I have reached a conclusion.
Your Majesty’s illness is caused by overwork, leading to imbalance of vital energy and accumulation of toxins, blocking the meridians. I offer you a remedy called ‘Tongli Pill,’ which has miraculous detoxifying effects. If Your Majesty takes it, all blockages will be cleared, and your health will soon be restored!”
Zhu Changluo listened to Cui Wensheng’s confident explanation. Trusting those around him, he smiled. “Such filial concern is rare. If your medicine is as miraculous as you claim, I will reward you handsomely.” He then instructed the night attendant, “Help me up, I wish to try Wensheng’s miracle medicine now!”
With Zhu Changluo’s command, the attendants busied themselves, and Zhu Changluo swallowed the ‘Tongli Pill’ offered by Cui Wensheng. Moments later, he felt a relentless abdominal swelling and hurried to the restroom, followed by a flustered crowd of attendants.
Shortly after, Zhu Changluo returned, patting Cui Wensheng’s shoulder. “Wensheng, this truly is a miracle medicine. I feel much lighter. You’ve…” Before he could finish, he rushed back to the restroom.
In and out he went, dozens of times that night—no less than thirty!
By dawn, Zhu Changluo lay weakly on his bed, face pale and bloodless, utterly depleted, unable even to speak.
Zhu Hao received news at the hour of the dragon, the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month in the first year of the Taichang era. For the first time, rage overcame him, nearly demolishing his own chamber. For half an hour, he vented his fury by smashing everything in sight, terrifying Wei Xiaobao, who knelt motionless on the floor. Finally exhausted, Zhu Hao gazed at the stormy sky and cursed, “Cui Wensheng deserves death! Those who harmed my father must die! I will not spare a single one!”
He took a deep breath and addressed Wei Xiaobao, his tone calmer, “Xiaobao, hurry back to the Palace of Heavenly Purity. Watch closely. Report immediately if anything happens to my father. Also, keep an eye on Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe and Li Kezhuo of the Office of Protocol. If either enters the palace to see my father, report at once and delay their audience as much as possible.”
Wei Xiaobao, though curious about the orders, obeyed without question.
Zhu Hao’s instructions stemmed from the historical records: his father died from the Red Pill, which was introduced by Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe and recommended by Li Kezhuo. Zhu Hao had to be vigilant. In his father’s current state, no more medicines could be taken—only rest might offer hope.
After Wei Xiaobao left, Zhu Hao paced his chamber, trying to calm himself. But nothing could soothe his heart, given his father’s peril.
In a deserted corner of the Palace of Heavenly Purity, Cui Wensheng, chief eunuch of the Office of Ceremonial Affairs, knelt before Grand Consort Zheng, pleading, “Your Highness, I followed your instructions. Now, with His Majesty in this state, my life is surely forfeit! Please save me!”

Grand Consort Zheng regarded him with disdain and snorted, “Why panic? The medicine you offered was only rhubarb, which indeed has a purging effect. Whoever asks, that’s the answer. The Emperor simply couldn’t withstand it. There’s nothing wrong with your remedy. Rest assured, I’ll protect you; no one will harm you.” Then, as if recalling something, she continued, “Now, quietly send someone out of the palace to inform Grand Secretary Fang. Meet me at our usual place. Make sure no one else knows. Understood?”
Cui Wensheng promptly kowtowed in gratitude. “Thank you, Your Highness! I’ll see to it at once!” He departed immediately.
Watching his retreating figure, Grand Consort Zheng murmured, “Spineless, useless. For your years of service, I’ll spare your life—but I never wish to see you in this palace again!”
Cui Wensheng, rushing out to deliver Grand Consort Zheng’s message, had no idea she had already condemned him to exile. Had he known, he surely would not have carried out her orders.
On the afternoon of the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month in the first year of the Taichang era, in a turret by the Meridian Gate, a noblewoman spoke with a man clad in the highest official robes.
These two were the famed Zheng Consort, now Grand Consort Zheng, and the powerful Grand Secretary Fang Congzhe. They gazed at each other in silence, until Grand Consort Zheng spoke first. “Congzhe, you must help me this time. If Changxun succeeds in ascending the throne, I will see to it he appoints you as Imperial Mentor.”
Fang Congzhe listened quietly, then responded in a low voice, “Congzhe… Your Highness hasn’t called me that in years. You’ve gone too far this time. I fear I cannot help you.”
Grand Consort Zheng seemed unsurprised by his refusal. She reached out, holding his hand, gazing deeply. “Congzhe, have you forgotten our past? If you don’t help Yingying this time, Yingying will hate you forever.”
Her soft words carried Fang Congzhe back through endless memories. Years ago, outside the Zheng residence, a young couple bid farewell in the rain. The man promised, “Yingying, don’t worry—this time I’ll succeed in the imperial exam. Once I pass, I’ll have the right to serve as an official. Then your father will no longer oppose us. I swear to heaven, I will marry no one but Zheng Ying. Wait for me, Yingying!” With her beautiful smile, he left, looking back every few steps.
A few months later, he was indeed successful, ranking as a second-class scholar and appointed to the Hanlin Academy. Yet, returning home in triumph, he learned his beloved had entered the palace and become Consort De. He cried to the heavens, resigned his post, and vowed never to serve again. Fifteen years passed, and then she sought him out, asking him to return to office. For the chance to see Yingying, for whom he pined day and night, he agreed immediately. With her support in the harem, his career soared, and in a few years he became Grand Secretary. But that was not what he truly desired—he sought only Yingying.
These memories left Fang Congzhe unsettled. The young man in the recollection was himself, and the woman, Yingying, was the very Grand Consort Zheng before him—no longer youthful, but commanding supreme honor.