Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Profound Bond Between Teacher and Student

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"Your Majesty, Eunuch Wang has arrived."

The voice of the attendant interrupted the young Emperor Zhu Qizhen, who had been lost in contemplation of the landscape. Yet, far from displeased, he quickly turned and looked toward Wang Zhen, his face alight with excitement. "Where have you been, sir? I’ve been waiting here for quite some time. If you had been any later, I would have sent someone to fetch you."

Seeing the Emperor in high spirits, Wang Zhen was just as pleased. Smiling as he stepped forward, he replied, "Your Majesty doesn’t leave the capital often, and this journey has been a weary one. I thought it best to let Your Majesty have some quiet, that you might not become overly fatigued and injure your imperial health. As it turns out, this Xishui River, chosen by Your Majesty, is truly a delightful place—far better than any I had thought of before." To be able to address the Emperor as "I"—there was perhaps no one else in all the land with such privilege as Wang Zhen.

"You are most considerate, sir."

Like a delighted child, Zhu Qizhen took hold of Wang Zhen’s hand, pointing excitedly at the Xishui River to the south, which turned east a few miles away. "If not for your insistence, how would I have ever known such beauty existed beyond the capital? Since my accession to the throne, I have been confined within the palace, every wish to venture out met with endless excuses and refusals. I cannot fathom what their intentions are."

The young Emperor was deeply aggrieved that it had taken him fourteen years since his enthronement to finally leave the capital. He sighed, unable to help but complain, "The realm left to me by my ancestors—I have not even glimpsed it. Is this empire theirs, or mine?"

Such words bore grave implications. The two attendants serving nearby immediately lowered their heads in alarm, and the guards in the distance shifted their gaze toward the horizon, pretending not to hear the sovereign’s complaint.

Though Wang Zhen secretly agreed with this lament, he did not voice his support. Instead, he composed his features and addressed Zhu Qizhen with solemn gravity. "Your Majesty’s words are mistaken. The ministers forbid your departure only out of concern for your welfare. The imperial progress stirs the provinces, mobilizes countless men and resources, and if done often, will drain the nation’s strength and provoke public resentment. Recall how Emperor Yang of Sui lost his kingdom through his love of pleasure—such a precedent must not be repeated. Your Majesty must refrain from such remarks, lest you chill the hearts of your loyal ministers."

"Why, sir, what is the matter?"

Usually, whenever Wang Zhen would speak to him with such seriousness, Zhu Qizhen would immediately reflect on his own errors. Yet this time, instead of repentance, he looked surprised. "You have often taught me that reading ten thousand books is not as useful as traveling a thousand miles. The knowledge in books is dead; if one merely reads without venturing into the world, one can never understand their true meaning, nor comprehend the myriad conditions of life and the warmth and coldness of human affairs. Such people become pedants, fit only to curry favor with their superiors and prey upon the common folk, knowing nothing of governance. Only by uniting knowledge with action can one serve well, understanding both the state and the people—thus becoming a good official. If that is so, then should not I, as Emperor, be all the more bound to read widely and travel far? Otherwise, how could I rule well? If I cannot be a good Emperor, then what is the point of being sovereign at all?"

"Your Majesty…?"

Zhu Qizhen’s reasoning left Wang Zhen momentarily speechless. After a long pause, he sighed. "Your Majesty is indeed most perceptive, able to draw inferences from a single point. Yet Your Majesty is Emperor, bearing the weight of the realm. The saying goes, ‘A child of great price must not sit beneath a collapsing hall; a gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall’—surely Your Majesty understands this even better than I."

"My departure from the capital is not for pleasure, but to follow the example of my great-grandfather and father—to lead troops in person and pacify the borders. Why must they criticize and obstruct me at every turn? My great-grandfather, the Taizong Emperor, left a testament: the Son of Heaven must guard the nation’s gates himself. Now that Esen has invaded, as Emperor, I must set an example for the realm. Only by leading the army myself can I show these Tartar invaders that the Ming dynasty is not to be trifled with. If they anger me, I will lead the imperial army to sweep away their khanate!"

Having finished this heroic declaration, Zhu Qizhen glanced at his stunned mentor, Wang Zhen, and suddenly laughed. "I know, sir—you actually agree with me, and hope I will be an Emperor like my great-grandfather. You only caution me thus because you fear I am too impetuous and might quarrel too fiercely with the court, unable to restrain myself—so you play the role of the others and advise me as they do, isn’t that right?"

At this, Wang Zhen was both shocked and gratified by his pupil’s boldness. He realized that the boy who once ran about with a runny nose was now the Emperor of the Ming Empire.

"Your Majesty is astoundingly clever—nothing can be hidden from you," Wang Zhen replied, smiling as he looked at Zhu Qizhen’s now fully grown beard. There was no need to deny it, nor to conceal his feelings. His student had grown up and now understood right from wrong.

Seeing Wang Zhen truly agreed with him, Zhu Qizhen was all the more delighted. He pulled Wang Zhen a few steps closer to the riverbank, picked up a stone, and skimmed it across the surface. Somehow, the stone bounced several times before sinking.

Knowing well the Emperor’s playful nature, Wang Zhen, not wishing to spoil his good mood, also picked up a few stones and tried his hand at skimming them, but each attempt failed to make a splash, making Zhu Qizhen laugh heartily and jest that the pupil had bested the teacher.

The two spent a while playing at the water’s edge until Xi Ning arrived to report that the imperial tent had been set up, and requested the Emperor to move. Reluctantly, Zhu Qizhen tossed aside his last stone and signaled to the attendants to prepare for the move.

He was about to board the carriage when he noticed that Wang Zhen seemed to have something to say, so he stopped and asked, "Is there something you wish to tell me, sir?"

Wang Zhen was about to bring out an urgent report from the Datong Garrison when Zhu Qizhen asked again, "Is it about the Three Thousand Battalion?"

Wang Zhen did not answer. The Emperor already knew of the trouble that had arisen in the battalion that afternoon, and with Duke Zhang Fu handling the matter, there was no need to say more.

Seeing that Wang Zhen remained silent, Zhu Qizhen assumed it was indeed about the battalion and grew angry. "The matter of the Three Thousand Battalion truly disappoints me. If I had not insisted on personally leading the campaign against Esen, I would never have realized how useless my own garrison had become. A bit of rain and they cannot march! If that is the case, how can I expect them to stand against Esen’s forces, or to win a battle?"

As Zhu Qizhen’s anger mounted, Wang Zhen hastened to calm him. "The matter has been dealt with, Your Majesty need not be further vexed. I believe that after this, the Three Thousand Battalion will surely rally and not disappoint Your Majesty again."

"Very well," Zhu Qizhen said, his mood easing. "With you at my side, I have nothing to fear. But you must not overwork yourself—let Duke Zhang, Cao Nai, and Kuang handle more of the affairs. They are all capable men, well-suited to their duties."

He was about to board the carriage, but saw that Wang Zhen still did not move. Puzzled, he asked, "Is there something else you wish to say, sir?"

Without a word, Wang Zhen swiftly handed him the urgent dispatch from the Datong Garrison, brought by the Imperial Secret Police.

Zhu Qizhen took the dispatch in confusion, opened it, and as he read, his face darkened. With hatred in his voice, he said, "I underestimated Esen before—he is a worthy adversary. Even Marquis Song Ying of Xining was no match for him. But the stronger he is, the more determined I am to face him, to see whether the Great Ming Son of Heaven or the Tartar Grand Preceptor is the mightier!"

The Emperor showed no fear of Esen’s strength, and Wang Zhen was greatly relieved. Watching his student gaze heroically toward the western horizon, his heart swelled with pride for the man his charge had become.

"Your Majesty’s wisdom and martial spirit are unmatched. Esen is no more than a petty villain—once the imperial army arrives, he will be swept away without a trace!"

After this heartfelt compliment, Wang Zhen changed his tone. "Yet ever since Your Majesty resolved to lead the campaign in person, the ministers have opposed it. Whether those left in the capital or those with the army, few truly support the expedition—most secretly try to hinder it. Today’s trouble in the Three Thousand Battalion may seem like a mere soldiers’ quarrel, but someone must have incited it. For now, Your Majesty’s authority suppresses all opposition, but should news of a defeat at Datong spread, they will surely use it as a pretext to demand the army’s return. So I have tasked Wang Shan and Ji Guang to watch over the messages from Datong—any news from there shall be held back for now. What does Your Majesty think of this arrangement?"

"Excellent!"

Without hesitation, Zhu Qizhen declared, "Your plan is exactly what I desire. On this campaign, I must prove myself against Esen, even if swords rain from the sky—I shall lead the army to Datong!"

"Your Majesty is truly enlightened!"

"Oh, and one more thing. Guo Jing has served through four reigns. If not for his achievements, then at least for his loyal service. He is now trapped with the Marquis of Xining at Yanghe Pass, fate unknown. I am worried for him—have the secret police in Datong find out everything, dead or alive, and give me a definite answer. If he has died, bury him with honor and select one or two of his sons or nephews for the imperial guards. But if he has fallen into Esen’s hands..."

As the Emperor spoke of his trusted retainer Guo Jing, Wang Zhen listened intently. Noting the Emperor’s reluctance to continue, he finished the thought himself, "Rest assured, Your Majesty, I will see to it. Whether in life or death, Guo Jing will not be allowed to bring shame to the royal household."

Confident in Wang Zhen’s competence, Zhu Qizhen said no more. "I leave it to you, then. I’ll go to the tent now—I still need to write a letter to the Empress, lest she worry. She’s sent several people to check on me today alone. If she’s not tired of it, I certainly am!" He laughed.

"The Empress only cares for Your Majesty—what common folk call deep conjugal affection," Wang Zhen replied with a smile.

"I know. And I like her for it."

At the mention of Empress Qian, far away in the capital, a gentle warmth appeared on the young Emperor’s face.