Chapter 243 Writing Books and Biographies
The next morning, even though it was still summer, the Forbidden City looked as if it had been snowed in, with everything dazzlingly white overnight.
Even the officials attending the morning court were all dressed in mourning clothes, and Emperor Hongzhao, who had not slept all night, was dressed in the heaviest mourning clothes, and strode to the center.
Despite several sleepless nights and a series of emotional blows, he didn't succumb to despair. On the contrary, standing here gazing at the row of people in white hats below, his mind became much clearer.
"Your Highness, a country cannot be without a ruler for even a day. We humbly request that Your Highness ascend the throne immediately to reassure the people and stabilize the foundation of the nation!"
Before Hongzhao could even speak, Zhang Tingyu stepped forward, threw off his robe, and knelt down, pleading earnestly in a firm voice.
As soon as the words were spoken, the crowd below the jade steps, as if by prior arrangement, knelt down in unison, all shouting – “We implore Your Highness to ascend the throne immediately, to appease the people and stabilize the foundation of the nation!”
Hongzhao was the crown prince, and his legitimate succession to the throne required no excuses.
He remained silent for a moment, then slowly turned his head to look at the most prestigious dragon throne in the world behind him. A complex emotion flashed in his eyes. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the turbulent emotions within him.
The ministers below could not raise their heads, nor could they see the Crown Prince's expression. After a long while, seeing that no sound came from above, they repeated, "We humbly request Your Highness to ascend the throne immediately!"
This time, Hongzhao didn't make them wait any longer.
"Then let it be as you say, and let the Ministry of Rites begin preparations." According to previous tradition, the enthronement ceremony should be held in front of the deceased emperor's spirit tablet, which is now the Hall of Supreme Harmony. The enthronement ceremony itself does not need to be rushed, and an auspicious time should be chosen.
"As you all know, Father Emperor was diligent in governing the country and loved the people. He was kind and lenient to his subordinates. Even when he was ruthless, it was only towards those corrupt officials and parasites of the country. Whether you are his son or his subject, you should remember his merits. Before I ascend the throne, I must take care of Father Emperor's funeral properly before we can discuss the enthronement ceremony."
"Yes, the late emperor was benevolent, and His Highness the Crown Prince is wise."
"Rise, all of you." Hongzhao waved his hand. "If there is nothing else, then the court may adjourn. Thirteenth Uncle and Fourteenth Uncle, please stay."
He lowered his eyes and called out a few more names below, mostly those who had appeared in the Hall of Mental Cultivation last night, plus his grandfather and uncles—"Please come to the Hall of Supreme Harmony later, I have important matters to discuss with you."
"Dismiss the court."
...
The mourning hall in the Hall of Supreme Harmony was set up overnight under the personal supervision of the Empress. Now, Yinzhen has been changed into the prepared burial clothes and is sleeping peacefully in the huge coffin. Apart from his pale complexion, he really looks like he is asleep.
Upon entering the hall, the solemn and imposing atmosphere, combined with the incessant sobbing and wailing, sent shivers down one's spine. Even the ministers, accustomed to grand occasions, were not immune to the chills.
Only Hongzhao walked naturally to the coffin, slowly knelt down on the soft cushion that had been prepared for him, and stood very close to the coffin. He quietly looked up at it, his eyes filled with deep affection and longing.
Hearing the rustling sounds behind him, Hongzhao spoke slowly without turning around.
"I have summoned you all here because I have important matters to discuss with you. The first is the posthumous title and temple name of Father Emperor. The second..."
Hongzhao looked up, his gaze fixed firmly on the memorial tablet, and spoke the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind for a long time: "Although Father Emperor's reign was not long, his achievements were outstanding. He was diligent in governing and loved the people and never rested for a single day. Now that he has passed away, there must be someone to remember his merits and appreciate his contributions."
"Then what does Your Highness mean?" Lü Wenzhong was the first to step forward and speak to the Crown Prince.
Hongzhao said, "All ministers must submit memorials. Father Emperor's illness is the result of overwork. He is familiar with all the important and minor matters in the court. If a minister's memorial is empty and lacks substance, then he doesn't even understand how to perform his duties. In that case, he doesn't need to be an official anymore."
"Furthermore, I intend to write a biography of my father, the Emperor, which will be printed and distributed by the court." Hongzhao's voice was filled with unwavering determination; this was no longer a discussion, but a formal announcement.
"All the literati in the world can write poems and lyrics to praise, and I will send people to collect them in a unified place, and then select the best ones to be included in the Hanlin Academy and published along with the biographies."
Nowadays, most scholars only seek to leave their mark on history. They throw out these opportunities, hoping that as long as they can seize them, their fame will be passed down through generations. He doesn't believe that these people won't firmly grasp this opportunity.
After all, such a large-scale selection of poems from the common people is like compiling biographies of emperors in the imperial court; it is unprecedented and may never be repeated.
This was exactly the result Hongzhao wanted; he wanted future generations to see what a wise and benevolent ruler his father was.
The people behind him exchanged glances. Although the matter sounded novel, they couldn't stop His Highness from showing filial piety, since it wasn't a bad thing anyway.
A group of people looked at Hongzhao's tall and straight figure in his thin white robes and said, "Your Highness is wise."
Seeing that no one had any objections, Hongzhao nodded—"Then let's discuss the selection of the temple name and posthumous title."
...
The numerous rituals following the late emperor's death were extremely complicated, and the new emperor's ascension to the throne required meticulous attention to detail. Each and every matter demanded careful consideration, and Hongzhao knelt in the mourning hall for an entire day. If it weren't for the need to bathe and change clothes for the enthronement, he would probably still be wearing the robe the emperor wore when he was seriously ill, with even the jade hairpins in his hair loosened and a few strands hanging precariously, tugging at his nerves.
The jade buckle was personally changed for him by his father, the Emperor, on his birthday. The two childish bells were removed and replaced with a gold-inlaid jade buckle that his father thought was more suitable for his status.
Hongzhao stared at the hanging braid for a long time, then reached out and removed one of the jade buckles. He slowly stood up and walked to the coffin, carefully placing the jade buckle next to his father's pillow.
"Just think of it as if your son is still by your side."
Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, feeling a pang of sadness, something unexpected caught his eye out of the corner of his eye—a closed scroll.
"What's this? Aren't the burial items supposed to be kept separately? Why is this painting here?"
As he asked this, he slowly unwrapped the scroll.
Surprisingly, this was not a famous painting, but a piece of calligraphy that now appears somewhat naive, at most just a neat and tidy piece of writing.
"The crane is slender, the pine evergreen; its spirit shines as brightly as the autumn moon."
Hongzhao's hand suddenly stopped, his eyes fixed on the paper as if glued to it. The image of his father holding his wrist and guiding him to practice calligraphy when he was a child, and the joy on his mother's face when he finished writing this piece of calligraphy, all kept replaying in his mind.
Su Peisheng slowly walked up, took the words from the Crown Prince's tightly clenched, slightly wrinkled hand, carefully flattened and rolled them up, and put them back in their original position.
"Your Highness, you may not know this, but the other burial items are not here. This was instructed by His Majesty long ago that they must be kept by his side and carried with him. This servant dares not forget."
"Your Highness, the Emperor has always cherished this calligraphy you wrote back then. He used to want to cover it with a dust cover when it was displayed in the palace. In the later years, when his eyesight was failing, he would often ask me to take it over and examine it closely. I even had to move the teacup far away to avoid soiling the paper."
"Apart from this one thing, the Emperor did not give any other instructions."
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