The prince's east palace is completely dyed with silk.
The aura of death and depression enveloped every bright yellow glazed tile.
The patter of spring rain fell on the tiles, seeming to be soaked in the breath of sadness, turning into tears on the faces of the palace people.
The sound of crying filled the East Palace, as if it was a ghostland wailing. All the palace residents were dressed in plain white and looked sad.
Zhu Yuanzhang came to the mourning hall with no sadness or joy, and an indifferent face.
"Long live the Holy One, long live the Holy One, long live the Holy One!"
Before Zhu Yuanzhang stepped into the mourning hall, all his ministers knelt on the ground and chanted long live.
Afterwards, the entire mourning hall fell into deathly silence, and no one dared to make any noise at this time.
The black crow flying by tilted its head, its beak pecked its wings, and looked curiously at the people kneeling on the ground.
Starting from the mourning hall, wherever you look, the ground is covered with pall, and countless people are trembling, not daring to say a word.
Zhu Yuanzhang approached the coffin and looked at the familiar pale face in the coffin. He couldn't help but feel sad in his heart, and his old body swayed slightly.
When he came to this world, he didn't completely gain the memory of this body, but he had some bloodline instincts that he couldn't stop.
The old fingers gently pressed on the edge of the coffin, Zhu Yuanzhang took a deep breath, and his turbid eyes swept over the kneeling ministers in the mourning hall without leaving a trace.
Immediately, his eyes lingered on a few younger children, from whom he felt some blood connections and a hint of support for the national destiny.
The older child was about fourteen or fifteen years old, with red and swollen eyes. Next to him was a woman in her prime, who looked like a mother and her son.
The other person was kneeling timidly with his head lowered, and his position was slightly back. He seemed to have noticed Zhu Yuanzhang's gaze and subconsciously dodged it.
In addition, there are other children, even younger, who also share some of the subtle national fortunes.
Among the ministers kneeling on the ground, there were several who were obviously generals who had fought in the battlefield. Their whole bodies were full of evil aura, and even though they were dressed in plain clothes, they still had a bit of fierce power.
In them, Zhu Yuanzhang also saw traces of the national destiny.
It's just that there aren't many. It's obvious that this is a dynasty that spans the world, and the fate of a country rests on one person's shoulders.
If this person is wise, powerful, and able to govern well, the country will prosper and the people will be prosperous and the country will be strong.
Once a strange thing appears among them, even a rich family can be ruined in one fell swoop.
Walking on thin ice!
Zhu Yuanzhang made a simple analysis and came to a conclusion.
National destiny...
He murmured slowly in his heart, and walked away with a flick of his sleeves, leaving behind a group of ministers kneeling on the ground, at a loss.
Prince Zhu Biao died of illness in his prime, and the entire Ming Dynasty fell into sorrow.
Many ministers were filled with fear and trembling, fearing to anger the man on the dragon throne, and their heads fell to the ground with a click.
The legs standing in the Jinluan Palace were just like Young Master Kong after seven times a night, with cramps in his calves.
The key is that the man above never follows orders when killing people. He basically just cuts wheat, harvesting one crop after another.
When Empress Xiaoci died of illness, the ministers collectively shed tears for her, which was even more sad than the death of her parents.
But fortunately, the gentle and generous Prince Zhu Biao is still there, and all the ministers still have some confidence. They live their lives cautiously and are not worried about the sudden butcher's knife falling.
Now that the prince Zhu Biao has passed away from illness, all the ministers are at their lowest. They are thinking about themselves every moment. If they can not speak, then they should not speak.
He was afraid that if there was something wrong in his words, he would be caught by the mad dogs of Jinyiwei, and the nine clans would be killed.
However, the person above seemed to be immersed in the pain of the prince's death. He only dealt with state affairs in a cursory manner every day and did not commit any killings.
The current situation remained silent, like a pool of stagnant water, until the second day after Prince Zhu Biao was buried.
Forbidden City, Fengtian Hall, Back Garden.
The commander of the Jin Yiwei made Mao Xiang kneel on the ground tremblingly and presented the memorial in his hand.
"Your Majesty, this is the Jin Yiwei collecting the words and deeds of the ministers in recent days. The ministers will sift out the useless information and ask for His Majesty's judgment."
As a veteran minister around Zhu Yuanzhang, Mao Xiang had a good understanding of the temperament of his superiors. A simple summary is that he is unpredictable and moody.
In the early years when Queen Xiaoci was here, Your Majesty was not like this, and there were still connections to follow.
After the death of Queen Xiaoci, His Majesty the Crown Prince exercised restraint, and His Majesty was still normal, and there were traces to follow.
But now His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has died of illness, and His Majesty has never shown any sign of color from beginning to end. Mao Xiang has no idea what the superior is thinking.
Every time he met with a superior, Mao Xiang even thought about the color of the coffin board at home, although there was probably no one to collect the body...
While his thoughts were wandering around, Mao Xiang heard the voice from above. He immediately shivered and sweated more on his forehead. He pricked his ears and did not dare to slack off at all.
"Erhu, the position of crown prince..."
Mao Xiang, the dignified commander of the Jinyi Guards, the most trusted confidant of Emperor Hongwu, the eagle dog that all the ministers hate and want to get rid of.
At this moment, he only felt that his ears were ringing, his eyes were dizzy, he was sweating like mercury, his knees seemed to be sore and weak, and he could not hear any of the words that followed.
It's over, it's really over this time, I'm afraid the three Yi tribes are missing. This is at least the rhythm of killing the Nine tribes.
Not to mention the wife and children at home, even a rat visiting the house would probably have to beheaded.
When he thought of this, Mao Xiang came out of grief, grabbed the ground with his head, and said sadly: "Your Majesty, I am a humble minister... I am a warrior, I dare not speak nonsense, and I have no such intention."
Zhu Yuanzhang glanced at Mao Xiang indifferently and said to himself, I didn't ask you, why are you so nervous?
However, he did not explain. He only waved his hand and said, "Go down and call Liu Sanwu."
Mao Xiang shouted long live as if he was amnesty, and limped down.
Soon, Liu Sanwu, a Hanlin scholar, came to the back garden. After seeing the ceremony, Zhu Yuanzhang gave him a seat.
Looking at the eighty-year-old old man in front of him, Zhu Yuanzhang had to sigh with emotion. He must have a strong foundation to live to such an old age in such a world with thin spiritual energy.
These days, he has made various ideas in order to transfer the country's destiny, and he feels more and more that the throne should be passed on.
It's just that as an emperor, his actions must be consistent with his status. In addition, he is not familiar with the family, and he cannot rashly ask people around him.
As a great cultivator in his previous life, he naturally knew that every word spoken by a superior would be scrutinized by others. If he asked the eunuchs around him today, the news would probably spread throughout Yingtian tomorrow.
Therefore, he lay dormant for a long time and waited until the prince was buried before he began to inquire about the crown prince's position.
Liu Sanwu was eighty years old, but he had a clear mind. When Zhu Yuanzhang asked about it, his heart suddenly thumped and he almost fell off the stool.
This question is extremely difficult to answer. Liu Sanwu knows it well. His Majesty has a candidate in mind, but he is still hesitant and needs help from his ministers.
Liu Sanwu stood up from the stool, knelt on the ground, and said seriously: "Your Majesty, according to etiquette and law, the emperor's grandson should be made the crown prince."
Imperial grandson?
Zhu Yuanzhang thought of the children he saw in the mourning hall that day. Recently, he listened to the secret discussions of the palace people, saying that the emperor's grandson Zhu Yunwen had a filial heart and a sincere heart. He stayed at his father's funeral every day, which moved the world.
However, how much of it is true or false...
He pondered for a moment and then asked: "The emperor's grandson is young and I still have a few sons, so why not?"
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