The Ming Dynasty: I Fabricated Dreams for Zhu Di 2

Chapter 2: Introducing the Guest, the Yongle Emperor

Yao Guangxiao entered the room, and the sound of the door closing followed.

He slowly approached the brazier, where Zhu Di was roasting himself by the fire, a look of melancholy etched on his face.

Before Yao Guangxiao could bow, Zhu Di said indifferently,

“Sit.”

Yao Guangxiao removed his heavy cloak, took off his shoes, and sat beside the brazier. He put down his prayer beads, extending his wrinkled, old hands to feel the warmth of the fire. Then, his gaze drifted to the lines of worry etched around Zhu Di’s eyes. With a calm voice, he smiled, “It seems Your Majesty’s heart ailment has worsened.”

Zhu Di chuckled softly, exhaling a breath of air. His eyes stared blankly at the flames in the brazier, the firelight reflected in his pupils. Yet, his eyes lacked luster, remaining dull and lifeless.

After a moment of silence, he turned to his old friend, sighing with dejection, “When one grows old, one becomes sentimental, always remembering the past.”

“Back when we conquered the Capital City, I was ecstatic, because I was going to inherit my father’s position.”

“Haha, I couldn’t sleep for nights on end back then; even when I slept, it was on the Dragon Throne.”

At this point, Zhu Di glanced at the Dragon Throne beside him. His eyes were cold, as if he had long since lost interest in the throne.

Sixteen years ago. He had seized this burning-hot Dragon Throne amidst the flames of war; now, the flames had gradually died down, and the once-hot throne was growing cold. Just like a beloved woman whose beauty has faded and who is no longer favored, his gaze held no warmth.

Yao Guangxiao chuckled teasingly, “Indeed, Your Majesty was full of ambition back then, reminiscent of the Founder Emperor.”

Zhu Di had heard countless flatteries, but he always enjoyed those from his old friend, Yao Guangxiao. Yao Guangxiao was both his teacher and his friend to him.

Zhu Di smiled faintly. “Not anymore. I often feel this palace is cold and empty, and I can’t sleep. These days, I often wake up in the middle of the night.”

“Do you know what I dreamt of?”

Yao Guangxiao, having been by Zhu Di’s side for many years, knew what troubled him: the usurpation of power, the blood of his own family on his hands. However, he didn’t say it outright; Zhu Di needed to vent his emotions.

“I dreamt I was sitting on the Dragon Throne, and Jianwen, that damned scoundrel, was kneeling below,” (Jianwen Emperor, Zhu Yunwen, Zhu Di’s nephew whom he deposed) “shouting, ‘Long live the Emperor!’ Haha, it almost made me laugh awake.”

It was clear that Zhu Di was genuinely happy in that moment. After a pause, the joy faded from his face.

“Then, I realized my father, my elder brother, my mother were watching from the side.”

“In the blink of an eye, my whole family was shackled, and my father was questioning me in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.”

“‘Why did you rebel!'”

“I can still remember my father’s look.”

“I woke up in a cold sweat.”

Zhu Di let out a long sigh. He thought that after so many years as emperor, even if he dreamt of his father, he wouldn’t be as afraid as before. But in fact, a single glance from his father made him sweat profusely, jolting him awake. The feeling of dread… was unbearable.

“Your Majesty has been cooped up in the palace for too long,” Yao Guangxiao suggested. “Perhaps you should go out for a stroll.”

Zhu Di glared at Yao Guangxiao. “The Crown Prince refuses to go to war, and he’s always crying about a lack of funds. Look at these memorials,” Zhu Di gestured towards the stack of documents beside Yao Guangxiao.

Hearing this, Yao Guangxiao realized Zhu Di had misunderstood. “I didn’t mean going to war, Your Majesty. I meant, for example, going for a drink.”

A drink? Zhu Di stared at Yao Guangxiao in surprise. Had he gone deaf? Had he misheard? Yao Guangxiao had said, “drink,” hadn’t he?

He frowned, his expression serious as he gazed at Yao Guangxiao. “Old monk, have you lost your mind?”

Yao Guangxiao was a monk who practiced Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, and he didn’t adhere strictly to worldly rules. But Yao Guangxiao seemed to never touch alcohol; in the past, attempts to get him to drink were always met with tea instead. Now, with his advanced age, wouldn’t drinking be akin to courting death?

Zhu Di leaned closer, sniffing. He stood up, displeasure evident in his voice. “Are you truly seeking death?”

He could smell the faint scent of alcohol on Yao Guangxiao. As a seasoned warrior, he was intimately familiar with the smell of alcohol.

Zhu Di’s brows furrowed, his voice cold. “Who let you drink?”

Allowing the old man to drink was tantamount to harming him, especially someone like Yao Guangxiao, who rarely drank. If Yao Guangxiao passed away, Zhu Di would truly be alone.

Yao Guangxiao simply explained calmly, “Your Majesty is overthinking. I’m an old man, my life hangs by a thread; what harm could it do?”

“There’s a tavern in a back alley on Jinchuan Street. The owner’s name is Zhuang Mu. The wine there is unlike that of ordinary taverns.”

What could be different about wine besides its potency?

Zhu Di placed his hands on his hips, his eyes fixed on Yao Guangxiao. A tavern, Zhuang Mu.

Yao Guangxiao also slowly stood up, looking at the increasingly haggard Zhu Di and said, “Use alcohol as a conduit, to untangle the dreams in your heart.”

“Your Majesty, why not try it? If your heart ailment festers, you will weaken, exhaust yourself, and your days are numbered.”

In all the land, only Yao Guangxiao dared to say his days were numbered. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t still be standing there.

Zhu Di knew that he was getting older, and if his heart ailment remained unresolved, his body wouldn’t last much longer.

“I am weary.”

Yao Guangxiao wasn’t in a hurry. He understood Zhu Di’s suspicious nature. He bowed slightly, “Your Majesty, I’ll await you at that tavern tomorrow at noon.”

Before Zhu Di could refuse, he left. The nightmares were shortening his life, and perhaps this tavern was Zhu Di’s only salvation. As Zhu Di’s old friend, he wanted to help.

At that moment, Xiao Biti (a eunuch) had summoned many eunuchs to carry the scattered memorials to the Eastern Palace, the Crown Prince’s residence. Yao Guangxiao picked up his cloak and walked away. Zhu Di stood at the door, watching Yao Guangxiao leave.

“Your Majesty, it’s cold outside. Please don’t injure your Dragon Body,” Xiao Biti, seeing Zhu Di standing at the door in thin clothing, was alarmed and quickly draped a fur garment over him.

Looking at the heavy snowfall outside, Zhu Di was lost in thought. A tavern, Zhuang Mu, dream weaving. Perhaps he could try; if the tavern wasn’t as miraculous as Yao Guangxiao claimed, he could simply have the man killed.

Only after watching Yao Guangxiao disappear did Zhu Di return to the room.

…

The next day, the tavern.

Zhuang Mu looked at Yao Guangxiao who entered the tavern and asked, “Old monk, didn’t you say you would introduce me to a guest? Where is he?”

(Chapter end)

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