Chapter Six: Leaving the Palace and Settling Down

“Lang, as you leave the palace this time, you must be especially careful. Outside, it is difficult to discern people’s hearts; you never know who is sincerely devoted to you and who harbors ill intentions. Be vigilant at every turn. As for your clothing and daily necessities, the food and water you consume, it would be best if we secretly sent you supplies from the palace. Ah, forget it, I’m letting my worry get the better of me. In short, come back to visit the palace as often as you can. If anyone intends you harm, you must remember—you must not try to fight them head-on. Whatever happens, your father and I will handle it…” Empress Zhou rambled on, her concern for Zhu Cilang overflowing in every word.

Zhu Cilang, unlike other youths, did not rebel or act stubbornly. He listened quietly, replying now and then. Amid the warmth he felt in his heart, a sense of urgency arose within him.

This departure from the palace must be the time to gather his own men, and the issue of money and provisions was even more pressing. Seek help from the palace? That would be tantamount to declaring defeat. For now, he could survive under the protection of his parents, but in two years, who would still be able to shield him?

Or perhaps, not even two years. Within half a year, the two gravediggers of the Ming—Li Chuang within and the Jurchens without—would only tighten the noose around the dynasty’s neck! The encouragement he gave to his father, the Emperor, had reignited Chongzhen’s resolve. In history, the Minister of War, Chen Xinjia, who once advocated peace with the Jurchens under the Emperor’s direction, would likely never propose such negotiations now.

Even if Chen Xinjia still sought peace, the Jurchens would never let go of their ambitions for Ming’s riches. Though they had retreated from Songshan, this autumn, a hundred thousand Jurchen cavalry would again sweep through the capital region, plundering at will. The court’s last shred of dignity would be torn away, exposing the Ming’s frailty for all the world to see.

And…

After his earlier words, how many were now waiting to see him make a fool of himself? In chaotic times, being born to the royal house was both a blessing and a tragedy.

Time waits for no one!

Since ancient times, it was said that the east of Beijing was for the wealthy, the west for the noble, the south for the poor, and the north for the lowly. The court’s dignitaries always lived west of the Imperial City, for the convenience of attending their offices and being summoned by the Emperor at any moment.

Naturally, the Left Commandant of the Five Armies’ Headquarters, Cao Huayu, now resided in the grand Shiyong Ward, west of the palace.

On the tenth day of the third month, fifteenth year of Chongzhen’s reign, a young man wearing a square cap and a sturdy robe emerged from the back gate of the Cao residence in Shiyong Ward. Inside the gate stood a solitary middle-aged man in formal attire, who, after seeing the youth off, wiped the sweat from his brow. This was none other than Cao Huayu, who never imagined that while sitting quietly at home, the Crown Prince would descend upon him from above—and task him with such a strange mission.

All of Cao Huayu’s wealth and status stemmed from the Emperor’s trust in his younger brother, Cao Huachun. So when Wang Cheng’en, the palace’s heir to Cao Huachun, conveyed the Emperor’s wishes, Cao Huayu spared no effort to comply.

Yet the Crown Prince’s peculiar preferences truly forced Cao Huayu to exhaust his ingenuity. Like a dragon diving into the abyss, the Prince insisted on being treated as a commoner, issuing stern orders that not a word of his presence be leaked.

Thus, when Zhu Cilang arrived, the servants were all sent away. When he left, only Cao Huayu was there to bid him farewell, ensuring not even a whisper could escape.

With Cao Huayu’s handwritten letter in hand, Zhu Cilang, accompanied by the trusty Si’en, began his life outside the palace.

Now, Zhu Cilang resumed the name he used in his past life. He was now a country youth from Qingtuo in Wuqing, a failed scholar who had come to the capital seeking work through connections—Qin Xia.

So, Si’en, who had called him “Your Highness” for over a decade, now stumbled over the unfamiliar address of “young master.”

Beijing, Chengqing Ward, East City.

Yan Lu, the ward chief, examined Zhu Cilang’s travel permit carefully, his eyes flicking left and right. Only when his fingers brushed the hidden silver beneath the document did he smile. “So, Brother Qin, you’re looking to rent a place here in Chengqing Ward? That’s easily arranged! I’ll fetch an agent for you and let them know you have my support—no one will try to cheat you!”

Yan Lu, whose given name was simply Lu, felt an instant affinity for Zhu Cilang’s decorum and continued, “We’re all neighbors here. As they say, distant relatives aren’t as good as close neighbors. Once you’re settled, I’ll host a gathering to welcome you—can’t have people saying Chengqing Ward folk lack hospitality.”

Behind Zhu Cilang, Si’en’s eyelids twitched. The Crown Prince’s strange tastes left him dizzy. The heir to the empire, consorting with commoners in this shabby alley, calling them brothers! Yet, seeing Zhu Cilang’s expression—so at ease—he could only smile and say, “With such kindness from you, ward chief, how could I let you bear the cost? Allow me, as the newcomer, to host the banquet for our neighbors.”

Soon after, Yan Lu led Zhu Cilang to a small courtyard, knocked on the door, and called, “Brother Liu, business awaits! Our new neighbor, Brother Qin, is looking for a place to stay—come out quickly, don’t keep him waiting!”

Afterward, Yan Lu echoed Zhu Cilang’s words, saying, “Brother Qin, you’re truly a clever man. But a restaurant would be too extravagant; among our neighbors are some excellent cooks. Set up a few big tables in your new courtyard, and a home-cooked feast will be all the livelier.”

“So be it, as you suggest, ward chief.”

Before long, the agent, Liu Huan, appeared—a gray-haired man past fifty. Yan Lu introduced them, the two exchanged courtesies, and after a few instructions, Liu Huan nervously turned to Zhu Cilang.

“I like peace and quiet; a remote spot is fine, but it must be spacious—a two-courtyard house, enough for a dozen people.” With that, Zhu Cilang sent Si’en with Liu to view the property.

Meanwhile, Zhu Cilang struck up a conversation with Yan Lu.

“Beijing is restless these days,” Yan Lu began. “The Tartars have breached the passes four times, and each time the city grows more crowded. The southern and northern quarters are packed with refugees. Yet here in Chengqing Ward, the population is thinning.”

“Why is that?” Zhu Cilang asked, puzzled.

Yan Lu pointed westward. “The west is where officials live, but so many have lost their posts—some have returned south, others ended up in prison. Here in the east, few officials reside; most are wealthy merchants. But with the roads so dangerous and the realm so unsettled, even merchants are scarce. Rumor has it the defeat in Liaodong has the whole capital on edge. Seven estates went up for sale just this month. When summer comes, and traders arrive with the grain barges, who knows how many will abandon their homes for good, how many old houses will be left unsold? These have been hard years for Liu, the agent.”

Zhu Cilang frowned. “Then it must be even harder to make a living in the capital?”

Yan Lu nodded. “The great families have no worries, but the common folk—life is too hard. With the Tartars raiding the capital region, countless people have flooded in, but jobs are few. Even the natives struggle to find work, let alone the newcomers. Those with savings can still scrape by; those without must sell their children, just to give them a chance to survive. By the way, Brother Qin, have you found employment yet? Would you like me to make inquiries for you?”

As he spoke, Yan Lu eyed Zhu Cilang intently, probing for answers, trying to learn more about this newcomer.