Chapter 20: The Struggle for Nobility

If one were to say that Zhu Zijin was still fortunate up to this point, then the rest of his life could only be described as tragic.

After Zhu Lu passed away, Zhu Youdun inherited the title of Prince of Zhou. He still had no sons, so he devoted himself to raising his nephews. Young boys like Zhu Zihou and Zhu Ziyan were sent to the Zhou princely residence at a tender age, ostensibly to serve as filial substitutes before their grandfather and allow the former Prince of Zhou to enjoy the pleasures of family.

However, Zhu Lu died when Zhu Zihou was three and Zhu Ziyan was four. From then on, it was Zhu Youdun who raised them.

With his biological father gone, Zhu Youran felt emboldened and frequently reported to the court, accusing Zhu Youdun of plotting rebellion. Zhu Youdun continually defended himself.

Years passed with no children born to Zhu Youdun, and Youran’s tactics shifted. He no longer accused him of treason but instead fought fiercely to seize custody and claim over Zhu Zijin. He threw tantrums and wept before the emperor and the royal clan, insisting that Zhu Zijin was his son and that he could not bear to be apart from him. The Prince of Zhou must return his son immediately!

Youran’s relentless uproar wore Zhu Youdun down after several years, and unable to endure it any longer, he finally returned Zhu Zijin to him. At that time, Zhu Zijin was twelve years old.

Youran’s desire to reclaim Zhu Zijin was not out of paternal affection but because Zhu Youdun had no heirs. If Zhu Youdun died, Youran, as the legitimate second son of the former Prince of Zhou, would become the primary heir. Since Zhu Zijin was still recognized as Zhu Youdun’s legal son, he had no claim.

But Zhu Youdun was also temperamental, much like his father. He despised this younger brother so much that he would rather pass the title to a younger half-brother than to Youran, who shared the same mother.

After Zhu Zijin was taken away, Zhu Youdun devoted himself to raising his nephews and maintained a close relationship with his fourth brother, Zhu Youruo.

Unable to tolerate this, Youran resorted to slander again, accusing Zhu Youruo of having close ties with Han Wang Zhu Gaoxu.

At the time, Emperor Xuanzong was on the throne. He was not as patient as his father had been. After uncovering the falsehood of the accusations and discovering many illegal acts committed by Youran, the emperor decisively stripped him of his title and reduced him to commoner status, confining him in Beijing.

Zhu Zijin, having shifted from being the legal son of the Prince of Zhou to the eldest son of Youran, was implicated as well. He too was stripped of his noble status and confined in Beijing.

Though called confinement, it was more like being kept within a walled compound of the clan’s estate—a village on the outskirts of the capital. Apart from disgraced clan members, the area was inhabited by officials and tenants working the imperial estates.

Without court stipends and restricted in freedom, they had no choice but to farm the land. Thus, although Zhu Zijin was only five or six years older than his cousins, he appeared at least a decade older because of the hardships he endured.

This vividly illustrates how grueling his life had been.

After reviewing important records about the Prince of Zhou from her previous world, Pan Yun immediately noticed differences.

In her prior timeline, Zhu Youdun had died in the fourth year of the Zhengtong reign, but here it was now the seventh year.

In that past timeline, Zhu Youdun never reclaimed Zhu Zijin, so upon his death, his fourth brother Zhu Youruo inherited the title of Prince of Zhou. It was not until the Jingtai era that Emperor Jingtai released Zhu Zijin and sent him back to Kaifeng.

This was intriguing. Pan Yun looked up toward the sickbed.

Tao Ji had just finished preparing a prescription and was now discussing health preservation with the Prince of Zhou.

The former Prince of Zhou was an expert in medicine. Although the current Prince had not inherited his father’s expertise, he still possessed relevant knowledge.

Especially in recent years, as he occasionally fell gravely ill and hovered on the brink of death, he had developed his own insights into health maintenance, making for a fruitful conversation with Tao Ji.

Just as their discussion grew lively, the chief steward of the residence arrived at last.

The Prince of Zhou beckoned to him. “Yuansong, I need you to write a memorial on my behalf.”

Zhao Yuansong immediately stepped forward to listen to the orders.

The Prince of Zhou took a breath and said, “I want to confer the title of heir prince and heir grandson. You will draft the document for me.”

Zhao Yuansong promptly agreed.

Consort Gong immediately said, “Prepare the ink, brush, paper, and inkstone at once.”

The maid nearby hurried off and soon returned with the necessary writing materials.

Zhao Yuansong ground the ink and, following the prince’s instructions, wrote a petition to confer Zhu Zijin as the heir prince of Zhou and Zhu Tongqie as the heir grandson.

Just as he finished writing and was about to seal the document, hurried footsteps sounded outside. The curtain was abruptly pulled back, causing everyone to turn their heads.

A stern-looking middle-aged man strode in. “Big brother—”

His gaze swept across Pan Yun, Xuanmiao, and Tao Ji, lingering meaningfully on Tao Ji as he stepped forward and asked, “I hear Qie’er has been found?”

The Prince of Zhou nodded gently. “Yes, he has been found.”

Zhu Zihou and Zhu Ziyan stepped forward and called out “Father.” Zhu Youruo waved his hand and narrowed his eyes at the child in Zhu Zijin’s arms. “Who found this child? How did they find him? Have you thoroughly investigated? We searched all over the Central Plains for half a year and never found him…”

Because of Zhu Youruo’s interruption, the sealing of the memorial was halted.

Pan Yun glanced at the expressions of those in the room, inwardly clicking her tongue. There were now four Princes of Zhou present, but the most anxious were the current princess and her attendants.

Consort Gong looked as if she wanted to immediately press the seal and send the memorial to the imperial court.

Sensing his wife’s impatience, the Prince of Zhou gently patted her with his gaunt hand, smiled faintly, and continued to deal with Zhu Youruo. “This child is blessed. He met three Taoist priests who recognized his extraordinary lineage and brought him back.”

“So those rumors are baseless,” the Prince’s face flushed. “I thought I was cursed to have no sons, but now not only do I have a son, I have a grandson too!”

He said to Chief Steward Zhao Yuansong, “Seal it. Send the memorial to the emperor immediately. I may still have some time left—I want to witness them being appointed heir prince and heir grandson.”

Zhao Yuansong sealed the document with a loud stamp and stood solemnly. “My lord, I will personally travel to Beijing to present myself before the emperor and oversee the reinstatement of the heir to your and the princess’s names in the clan records.”

“Good, good,” the prince’s eyes sparkled. “Depart at once and bring plenty of funds for the journey. Have them update the records soon to put my son’s mind at ease.”

Zhu Zijin knelt on the ground holding the child, tears streaming down his face. “Father…”

“Why cry? A man should not shed tears so easily. How will you protect your mother and wife then?” the prince admonished. “The whole household will rely on you someday. You must be strong.”

Zhu Zijin sobbed his agreement.

Zhu Youruo was taken aback by how swiftly the steward acted and how resolute his elder brother’s will was, falling silent for a moment.

His gaze rested on the child, saying ambiguously, “This child truly is lucky, much like second brother. Second brother has always been fortunate from a young age. No matter what trouble he caused, he always managed to escape unscathed.”

Consort Gong’s expression darkened. “What nonsense is that? Zhu Youran has already been stripped of his title. What good luck is that?”

She took the child from Zhu Zijin’s hands and gently patted him. “Our Qie’er isn’t like him. Such good fortune clearly runs in the prince’s bloodline. Prince, look at his eyes—they are exactly like yours.”

The Prince of Zhou smiled and nodded. “Yes, they are exactly like mine.”

“Congratulations, prince and princess,” Xuanmiao said with a slight smile. “Double blessings have come to the Zhou residence. With such auspiciousness, if the prince follows the doctor’s advice and carefully recuperates, his health will surely improve, and the princess will enjoy longevity and happiness.”

The prince murmured, “Longevity and happiness… Let the Taoists’ blessings be true. Bring another reward!”

Consort Gong’s eyes reddened as she hugged the child tightly.

Zhu Youruo was filled with frustration and a painful tightness in his chest.

The princely title was already within his grasp. Who would have expected his elder brother to suddenly remember Zhu Zijin and petition for his release?

Zhu Youruo made one last attempt. “Big brother, second brother is still alive. If he finds out Zijin has been named heir prince again, then…”

The prince waved him off without concern. “I’m near death. How many years does he have left? He was stripped of his title for crimes, unlike our Zijin. It’s not easy for him to come out.”

Consort Gong nodded repeatedly in agreement.

Having confirmed the prince’s determination, Zhao Yuansong withdrew to gather the guards for the journey to Beijing.

He dared not be careless now.

If before he had never doubted Zhu Youruo, the Marquis of Xiangfu, from the moment Zhu Tongqie was abducted, he no longer trusted him.

This memorial would decide the future of the Zhou princely title, and he would not allow anything to go wrong along the way.

The prince’s health was failing. The court physician had already given a grim prognosis early that morning: he had only days left.

He had to send the memorial to the capital as soon as possible. Previously, the court and the Zhou residence had tacitly agreed that upon the prince’s death, the title would pass to the Marquis of Xiangfu.

Even though the prince had reclaimed his legal son six months ago, the succession had never been formally decided. By right, the heir should have inherited the title, but Zhu Zijin’s name was still under Zhu Youran’s, and the clan records had yet to be updated.

The delay was because Zhu Tongqie had only recently arrived in Kaifeng and had been abducted and disappeared soon after.

Some said the prince was doomed to have no sons; others claimed Zhu Zijin brought misfortune to both parents, and still others believed the lines of the Prince of Zhou and the former Marquis of Runan obstructed each other’s fortunes.

Zhu Zijin and his son belonged to the former Marquis of Runan’s line. For peace, these two lines should never meet again in this lifetime; otherwise, one would be harmed.

So far, Zhu Tongqie had been harmed; next time, it might be the prince.

The prince… somewhat believed this.

He was a good man but a bit superstitious.

Thus, for half a year, because of these rumors, he had not officially acknowledged Zhu Zijin’s status as heir.

Yet he could not bear to send the child away.

After all, this was his own child whom he had raised. Seeing him suffer so much, how could the prince bear to send him back to confinement in the capital?

Moreover, after Zhu Zijin returned to Kaifeng, he displayed utmost filial piety. He took care of the prince’s affairs, administered medicine and meals, even helped with bathing and dressing, and carried him outside to bask in the sun every day.

Though the servants could perform these tasks, they lacked the meticulous care Zhu Zijin provided.

The prince had been ill for a long time, and while the servants dared not show it openly, they were inevitably impatient and less gentle.

Zhu Zijin cared for him as if he were a child.

As he tended to the prince, memories of the past flooded back—when the prince and his wife had first taken in the infant Zhu Zijin, barely a month old, fumbling through parenthood and raising him little by little to twelve years old…

Because of these thoughts and Zhu Zijin’s filial devotion, even with his superstition, the prince was reluctant to send him away.

Superstition can be a double-edged sword: if it can be used to justify mutual obstruction, it can just as well be used to believe in mutual blessing.