Chapter 1: The Resolute Vow Beneath the Crooked Tree on Coal Hill

“Are you kidding me? If you’re going to time travel, why not land in the reigns of Chenghua, Hongzhi, Jiajing, or Wanli? Failing that, just give me a prince of a vassal state. But no, you end up in the body of this unlucky emperor.”

Under an ancient locust tree on Coal Hill, after half an hour of self-doubt, Ye Xuan finally accepted the fact that he had transmigrated—and not just at any time, but in the seventh year of the Tianqi era, just as the new emperor had ascended the throne.

The reason Zhu Youjian, the Chongzhen Emperor, was considered ill-fated was because he had the heart to restore the Ming Dynasty, but lacked the strength to do so.

The empire was troubled both internally and externally; the court officials were corrupt, disasters and calamities struck continuously. After seventeen years of struggle, the Ming still fell, and he hanged himself from the crooked tree on Coal Hill.

In Ye Xuan’s view, the Ming Dynasty was essentially destroyed by Zhu Youjian himself. Although this was a bit of an exaggeration, if he hadn’t brought about his own demise, the Ming might have lasted at least another decade.

“Someone, cut down this locust tree… No, chain it up!”

After fully regaining his composure, Ye Xuan initially intended to chop down the ancient tree but reconsidered. If he truly wanted to hang himself, there were plenty of places in the palace to do so. Locking the tree was a constant reminder to himself.

Wang Cheng’en, waiting nearby, wasn’t sure why His Majesty had such a strange order, but the emperor’s word was law. He immediately summoned a eunuch and whispered instructions.

“Seventeen years left. The foundation of the Ming still stands. Maybe there’s still hope for salvation?”

After his tirade against Zhu Youjian, Ye Xuan sank into thought inside a pavilion. Since he was already here, he might as well make the best of it. Unable to change his predicament, he resolved to adapt.

Before him lay three paths: to be a foolish ruler, a tyrant… or a wise emperor.

“To be a foolish ruler… I could choose a few consorts, neglect morning court sessions every day, and enjoy seventeen years of wealth and glory. Not a bad way to spend a lifetime!”

“To be a tyrant… I’d wipe out Wei Zhongxian’s eunuch faction, the Donglin faction, and all collaborators with the Jian Man. Perhaps even annihilate their entire clans. If I die, I’ll drag them down with me.”

“To be a wise ruler? Rewrite the fate of the Ming, extend its reign for centuries?”

Being a foolish ruler was unlikely. Of the sixteen Ming emperors, ten died unnatural deaths. Take the recent ones: Zhu Changluo, the Guangzong Emperor and father of Chongzhen, died at thirty-eight after taking the ‘Red Pill’ tonic gifted by eunuchs. His brother, the Xizong Emperor Zhu Youjiao, drowned while boating in the harem, fell ill, took an ‘elixir,’ and died suddenly at twenty-three.

If he were to be a foolish ruler, he might drown like that someday. Too risky—dismissed.

A tyrant? Also unlikely. Without military power, he might kill a few civil officials, but wiping out all opposition? They’d likely kill him first. Too dangerous—dismissed.

A wise ruler? Natural disasters and internal rebellions persisted, surrounded by enemies, with corrupt officials in turmoil. Without control over the military, decrees barely left Beijing.

Reform would inevitably threaten vested interests. If the gentry united against him, trying to be a wise emperor and rewrite history was a pipe dream.

“Not a fool, not a tyrant, and not a wise ruler either? Damn, this is a death sentence. Maybe… just lie low? Play the game as long as I can?”

Ye Xuan’s face fell. This was a hellishly difficult start.

Given the circumstances, even Zhu Yuanzhang or Zhu Di would have to tread carefully at first.

During Chongzhen’s seventeen-year reign, it was as if heaven was determined to destroy the Ming. Disasters never ceased, especially in Shaanxi, Henan, and Huguang.

As for human calamities, internal uprisings led by Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong devastated much of the realm; externally, the Jian Man raided across vast territories, sackings numbering in the dozens, with tens of millions of innocent lives lost.

At the thought of the future tragedies on the Central Plains—the fields strewn with bones, miles without a crowing rooster—Ye Xuan’s heart ached deeply.

Not far off, Wang Cheng’en watched the young emperor’s expression shift from contemplation to sorrow, from confusion to despair, then anger, filled with both admiration and pity.

Though he was emperor, he was ultimately an unprepared seventeen-year-old boy. The court was treacherous; the Ming beset by turmoil, all the burden on his shoulders.

After his outburst, Ye Xuan calmed himself. Anger solved nothing.

“Wang Cheng’en, how long have I been on the throne?”

“Your Majesty ascended on the twenty-fourth day of the eighth lunar month; today is the sixteenth day of the ninth lunar month. You have reigned for twenty-three days.”

Hearing this, Ye Xuan exhaled in relief but felt a deep headache coming on.

According to history, at this point, Zhu Youjian had not yet moved against Wei Zhongxian. That meant Wei Zhongxian and his faction were still in power.

Wei Zhongxian was a double-edged sword. As long as he was around, the Donglin faction and other civil officials dared not act up, and he was proficient at embezzlement.

The headache was that Wei Zhongxian was a ticking time bomb. He concealed the death of the Tianqi Emperor and even obstructed the Duke of England from escorting the new emperor’s sedan chair. This showed his treachery.

Though Wei’s power came from imperial authority, and killing him was as simple as issuing an edict when the throne was secure, now, any edict might be rejected by the cabinet.

Most of the six ministries and nine high officials were his men, controlling the cabinet, Eastern Depot, Embroidered Uniform Guard, Directorate of Ceremonial, Imperial Stables, and the Inner Guards.

This force could crush Ye Xuan at any moment. That was the biggest challenge.

Ye Xuan recalled that historically, Zhu Youjian spent three months testing the waters with rewards before using the civil officials’ power to remove ten thousand palace guards and finally issuing the edict to oust Wei Zhongxian.

“It’s not too late. Though I lack magical aids, I’ve read the ‘Biography of Chongzhen’ and know many future events and trends. I know who the loyal and capable ministers are, and who the traitors and incompetents are.

Combined with knowledge from the future and a broader perspective, the Ming can still be saved!”

Ye Xuan muttered to himself, gazing at the locust tree with a determined expression.

“Zhu Youjian, rest in peace. I will inherit all that is yours. From now on, I am the sixteenth emperor of the Ming—the Chongzhen Emperor. Here I swear:

Those you, Zhu Youjian, could not kill, I, Chongzhen, will kill.

Those things you could not accomplish, I, Chongzhen, will achieve.

Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong rebel? That depends on whether I allow it!

The Jian Man slaughter my people? Then I will slay the Jian Man, destroy their lineage, and erase their clans!

The eight great Shanxi merchants collude with the Jian Man as their eyes and ears? Then I will confiscate their households and annihilate their clans!

Ignorant, incompetent, and shameless scholars who betray their country? I will punish them to the ends of the earth!

...

In short, the Mandate of Heaven is upon me. What you, Zhu Youjian, did, I, Chongzhen, will do. What you could not do, I will do even better.

Above all, I will make every person in the Ming a gentleman, free from suffering, and bring the world into harmony!

One day, I will make the Oirat and Tartar tribes our pastures,

Turn the western and Tibetan regions into our orchards,

Make Burma, Siam, and Annam our granaries,

The southeastern coast our fishing grounds,

And the Fusang lands our mining districts.

All nations will come to congratulate us, myriad states pay tribute, and the Ming will prosper for another three hundred years!”

Having spoken, Chongzhen suddenly felt much lighter. With a clear goal, his entire being was invigorated.

The morning sun shone upon Ye Xuan, rendering him almost divine.

From now on, he would be a tyrant—but not cruel; violent.

From this moment forth, the fate of the Ming Dynasty was his to command.

As for the era name, there was nothing he could do. According to protocol, a new emperor must proclaim a reign title immediately. More than half a month had passed, and the era name had long been set. He was simply late to arrive.

Had he come earlier, he would have chosen “Qiansheng” from the four names the cabinet proposed—a powerful name.

But “Chongzhen” was acceptable, meaning “to revive,” symbolizing the restoration of the Ming.

P.S.: It was the seventh year of Tianqi; the Chongzhen era name officially began the following year.

Turning to look at the Forbidden City basking in dawn’s light, then at the sprawling city of Beijing with smoke rising from chimneys, he thought:

If I hadn’t come, in two years the Jian Man would surround this place, and in a decade, a plague would sweep through the city, killing two hundred thousand.

“Now that I’m here, from this moment on, I will protect the Ming!”

But protection required resources. Within the palace, Wei Zhongxian harbored treacherous ambitions; outside, factions deceived and schemed; among the populace, gentry formed cliques, betraying the nation; beyond, enemies like the Jian Man lurked, ever hungry for the Ming’s destruction.

In such a complex situation, one misstep and he would join his late brother in death. He had to secure his safety before anything else.

After some thought, Chongzhen focused on one person.

With this person by his side, at the very least, his life would be absolutely safe.