Chapter Seventy-Five: Persuading Fang Congzhe

Understanding the importance of Fang Congzhe, Zhu Hao wasted no time after leaving the palace. He headed straight to Fang Congzhe’s residence, determined to persuade him and lay out the stakes. Zhu Hao hurried along, and soon stood before the grand gate of the Fang household, its lacquered doors bearing the inscription “Residence of Fang.” Without any unnecessary words, he immediately ordered his attendant eunuch to knock.

Inside, Fang Congzhe was at home, restless and anxious. Ever since he’d heard the news of the Emperor’s passing, he had locked himself alone in his study. No one knew whether he was reflecting on his actions, paralyzed by fear, or both.

At the sound of knocking, Fang Congzhe emerged from the study. He knew that someone from the palace must have come, and there was no way to avoid the encounter. The steward, seeing his master exit the study, began to greet him, but Fang waved him off. He himself went to the front gate and opened it, only to find Zhu Hao standing outside, flanked by a squad of imperial guards. Fang Congzhe’s face betrayed his surprise, but then, as if realizing something, his expression relaxed. “Your Highness, coming here so late at night—are you here to arrest your humble servant?”

Hearing this, Zhu Hao thought to himself, “This old fox really is something. No wonder my father valued him so highly. Such composure is rare. It’s a pity he chose the wrong side, and this time he’ll surely face retribution.”

Though he inwardly lamented Fang Congzhe’s fate, Zhu Hao betrayed no emotion. He replied coolly, “Not so. When have you ever seen the imperial guards arrest someone and politely knock on their door? My purpose in coming, as before when we met in the Cabinet, is to save your life, not to take it.”

Fang’s face changed ever so slightly at Zhu Hao’s words. He probed, “Your Highness says you’ve come to save me. May I ask, what crime have I committed that requires such rescue?”

Zhu Hao, seeing through Fang’s attempt at feigned ignorance, thought, “Still unwilling to admit the truth!” He lost interest in further riddles, and said directly, “Surely you already know of my father’s passing? Do you recall what I told you in the Cabinet? I warned you not to let Li Kezhuo enter the palace and present the ‘Elixir Pill,’ lest you be accused of regicide. You ignored my words, and now my warning has come to pass. How do you plan to answer for yourself?”

Fang Congzhe listened, noting that even after the loss of his father, Zhu Hao’s words were logical and precise, devoid of any grief or panic. He thought, “This youth is no ordinary man! If the fate of the empire lay in his hands…” He shook his head, chastising himself, “How could I entertain such treacherous thoughts? There is an order to things; tradition must be honored.”

Regaining his composure, Fang replied evenly, “The late Emperor’s passing has brought me great sorrow. But Your Highness, isn’t your warning a bit melodramatic? I did try to dissuade His Majesty from taking the ‘Elixir,’ but he insisted. I was merely following orders—how could I be charged with regicide?”

Zhu Hao could no longer suppress his anger at Fang’s evasiveness. He shouted, “Fang Congzhe! How dare you play with words! Do you think I don’t know your deeds? You and Consort Zheng conspired to poison my father. Out of pity for your predicament, I came to offer you a way out, yet you refuse my goodwill! Very well, wait for the Embroidered Guards to come question you!”

Zhu Hao’s sudden fury left Fang Congzhe with the uncanny sense that he was not facing a mere prince, but a sovereign who held life and death in his hands. Staggering back, pale-faced, it took him a moment to recover. He considered privately, “This prince must not have actual evidence; otherwise, he would have arrested me already. My momentary panic nearly gave me away.” With this thought, his expression hardened. “Your Highness, I am the Grand Secretary of the Cabinet. You accuse me and the Consort of regicide—do you have proof? If so, present it to the authorities. If not, mind your words. This is slander!”

Fang believed he had shown no weakness. Unfortunately for him, his adversary was not a mere child, but someone whose mind held memories from another age. Zhu Hao’s earlier accusations were a test, but Fang’s momentary panic convinced him that his father’s death was indeed tied to Fang and Consort Zheng.

Despite his certainty, Zhu Hao knew Fang was still useful to him and must not be eliminated just yet. He thought, “Father, if your spirit watches, forgive your son for not avenging you now. All I do is for the Ming dynasty, for our family’s empire! But rest assured, every one of your murderers will pay in the end—I will see to it myself.”

Suppressing the urge to strike, Zhu Hao took a deep breath and, his voice trembling slightly, said, “Grand Secretary Fang, your loyalty is now irrelevant—what matters is whether the court officials believe in you. Your enemies will seize this chance to bring you down. If I’m not mistaken, impeachment memorials accusing you of regicide are already pouring into the palace. When faced with the united voices of the court, what good will your explanations do?”

At these words, sweat beaded on Fang Congzhe’s wrinkled brow. He had to admit Zhu Hao was right. In court politics, there was never absolute right or wrong. Every wise emperor balanced competing factions, and in any dispute, the side with greater influence would win the ruler’s favor to preserve stability.

Now, Fang realized, the officials would indeed unite against him. Even if he was innocent, he would be hard-pressed to escape disaster. Sweat dripped steadily from his brow as panic seized the mind of a man once famed for shrewdness and resolve.

Seeing this, Zhu Hao thought, “Now’s my chance!” He quickly continued, “Grand Secretary, I know you served my father loyally and are a pillar of the state. I cannot bear for you to fall, costing the Ming such talent. I have a plan to save you—will you hear it?”

To a drowning man, Zhu Hao’s words were a lifeline; Fang seized them desperately. He blurted, “Please, Your Highness, speak! If you truly can save me, I will devote my life to your cause!”

Zhu Hao thought, “Old fox! Had I no use for you, you’d already be dead for what you did to my father. Even if you swear loyalty, I will settle accounts with you one day!” Outwardly, his face remained calm as he replied, “Grand Secretary, you exaggerate. I do this only to preserve a worthy servant for the Ming.”

After a brief pause, he continued, “As Grand Secretary, it is your duty to draft the imperial edict upon the Emperor’s passing. In it, you can use my father’s voice to declare your innocence and name the successor. Since you will personally proclaim the edict and the new emperor will remember your favor, this, together with the edict’s statement, will secure your safety and position.”

Fang gave a bitter smile. “I thought of that, but after His Majesty’s death I went to the palace, only to be stopped by the guards. They threatened to kill me on the spot if I forced my way in. Your Highness, it cannot be done!”

Zhu Hao was inwardly relieved: “Good thing I ordered the palace sealed, or who knows what tricks he would have played with the edict!” Of course, he said nothing of this. Instead, he replied mildly, “Grand Secretary, you are usually so wise—how could you miss the obvious? You say the palace is sealed, yet here I am, having just come from within, am I not?”