Chapter Thirty: The Emperor’s Grand Aspiration—Pleading with Heaven for More Years

In all matters of seeking blessings, prayers are invariably directed to some deity. Yet, to pray for longevity, one must await a response from the Northern Dipper. Appeals to the King of the Underworld are futile in this regard. The Northern Dipper governs birth, life, success, failure, fortune, and misfortune—thus, there exist rites to prolong life by pacifying the Seven Stars. The emperor’s longevity, however, is intimately tied to the fate of the realm; without immense support, such undertakings are impossible to succeed.

The methods Master Liaochen suggested to Emperor Hongzhi for prolonging life were little more than exchanges of equal value, verging on the path of sorcery. If the emperor were to consent then and there, the response of Heaven might indeed grant Hongzhi a few more years. Yet whether the Ming dynasty itself would endure until that fateful day when Chongzhen hung himself at Coal Hill remains uncertain.

The emperor’s hesitation at least proved he would never be one of those lacking in virtue who declared: “After my death, let the deluge come.” In all of history, the greatest difficulty lies in facing death; the emperor’s doubts were sufficient. Thus, Liaochen wished to speak candidly to the empress about the method of borrowing merit for longevity.

Soon, the chief eunuch beside Hongzhi arrived at the Palace of Earthly Tranquility to invite Master Liaochen to the Palace of Heavenly Purity.

Upon returning to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, Emperor Hongzhi looked even worse, clearly indicating that if borrowing longevity failed, his time in the mortal world was nearing its end. The emperor had evidently just taken medicine; the palace was thick with the scent of herbs.

After the formalities, the emperor spoke directly: “I have considered the methods you mentioned, but they violate the will of Heaven. Thus, they cannot be done. Is there an alternative?”

Liaochen replied, “Indeed, there is another way, but it has never been attempted. Success cannot be assured. Furthermore, though this method may extend life, it requires the royal family to repay Heaven’s gift with constant devotion for a hundred years.”

Hearing that Liaochen had a method that did not involve harming others or the state, the emperor became visibly interested, sitting a little straighter. “Grant the immortal master a seat,” he commanded. At his order, a few young eunuchs brought a stool, and Liaochen bowed as thanks. After some thought, he said, “All methods of appealing to Heaven are nothing more than following Heaven and responding to humanity. If Your Majesty wishes to prolong fortune and life, following Heaven is insufficient. What is needed is to respond to humanity.”

“Then, immortal master, speak plainly—what is the way to respond to humanity?” the emperor pressed eagerly.

“The way to respond to humanity is nothing more than practicing goodness. Accumulated merit can earn Heaven’s grace,” Liaochen answered.

“Then I shall decree the reduction of taxes across the realm and grant a general amnesty. What does the immortal master think?” asked Emperor Hongzhi.

Liaochen shook his head. “Your Majesty, though reducing taxes is well-intentioned, it scarcely benefits the people. Within prisons, though there are some good men, there are also great villains. A general amnesty grants equal favor to both, thus merits and faults cancel each other out, making it unreliable.”

The emperor felt embarrassed. Liaochen had essentially implied that reducing taxes merely starved the state and fattened the officials, while the common folk would still have to pay. A general amnesty would release both the innocent and the guilty—resulting in a heap of unjust cases. Fortunately, Emperor Hongzhi possessed excellent self-restraint; otherwise, Liaochen might have been dragged off to the execution ground.

“Would extensive construction of temples earn Heaven’s compassion?” the emperor asked, uncertain.

“Your Majesty need not build temples. The Daoist tradition lacks three treasures; it advocates quiet self-cultivation, not the construction of grand pagodas. If Your Majesty wishes to accumulate merit, you could establish royal orphanages throughout the land, sheltering the lonely and destitute. Protect all beneath Heaven. Orphans should be well clothed and taught skills for self-sufficiency, with the best among them selected for training in civil and martial arts. These orphans, nurtured by royal grace and taught by the emperor, would devote themselves to Your Majesty, enhancing your renown. If the court cares for elderly widows until their last days, this truly reflects the emperor’s benevolence and adds to your merit in the afterlife. With these two, a prayer to Heaven may be made,” Liaochen explained.

Emperor Hongzhi remained silent, carefully pondering these words, eventually sighing, “What you say is true, master. But the Ming dynasty already has relief institutions—what more can be gained?”

Liaochen smiled at the emperor. The emperor was momentarily puzzled, but soon realized: given the integrity of officials, those relief institutions likely existed in name only. He then asked, “How can we know these orphanages will not be ruined by corrupt officials?”

Liaochen sighed. “Your Majesty, such deeds of merit should be carried out as private acts of imperial charity, not through government offices or officials. The empress, as mother of the realm, should be mother to all children under Heaven, and Your Majesty should be their father.”

“But there must be someone to manage them,” the emperor said, recognizing the merit but feeling uneasy.

“Your Majesty can appoint palace maids and eunuchs without kin as managers, and hire commoners for miscellaneous tasks as needed. All expenses may be covered by Your Majesty’s private funds, and additional donations may be sought from noble families. Funds for charity must be managed transparently, lest Your Majesty bear unjust blame. Appointments from the palace should be made personally by the empress. I can submit a petition to the Underworld, requesting blessings for good deeds and punishment for evil ones. Those who dare to undermine Your Majesty’s merit will face karmic retribution in hell,” Liaochen said, his tone chilling, causing the eunuchs and maids nearby to shudder.

“Excellent!” the emperor agreed. Though people may not fear royal law, they always hold reverence for the Underworld. Many elderly palace staff spend their days in fasting and prayer, seeking blessings for the next life; better than solitary devotion would be tending to orphans and the elderly, accumulating hidden virtue for future reward.

“Immortal master, one more thing—this method of caring for orphans is indeed virtuous, but it is slow and steady, not suited for urgent needs. I fear I may not live to see the results,” the emperor said.

“Your Majesty, accumulating merit this way is indeed slow, but I can use this as a basis for praying to Heaven on your behalf. You must publicly declare your intention to fulfill this vow, and before my prayer, make a solemn pledge to repay the wish. If Heaven is moved, it can first grant Your Majesty extended life, and you may repay the vow later,” Liaochen explained.

“Oh,” the emperor breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, “So even Heaven’s merit can be borrowed and repaid!”

“In that case, immortal master, please prepare for the ritual to pacify the stars and pray to Heaven. Should you need anything, inform me directly; all palace personnel and resources are at your disposal. I will have the crown prince assist you,” the emperor decreed, granting Liaochen authority to act as needed. Liaochen understood and immediately took his leave, returning to the Eastern Palace to discuss preparations with the crown prince.

This prayer for fortune was momentous and could not be handled hastily. First came the ritual altar for pacifying the stars. Nowhere in Beijing was more suitable than the Temple of Heaven. Yet the ritual required strict isolation—military guards would need to seal the perimeter. The Temple of Heaven was a sacred site for imperial prayers, and officials would no doubt protest. Around the temple, one hundred and eight star flags, representing the thirty-six Heavenly Spirits and seventy-two Earthly Fiends, must be arrayed according to the constellations, with jujube wood for poles and silk for banners. At the center, seven lamps for the Northern Dipper stars placed in accordance with their positions, with purple gold for the lamps, lamp wick from grass aged at least ten years, and five hundred sticks of sandalwood incense, ten pounds of oil, and eight boys and girls (preferably Daoist acolytes).

After instructing Zhu Houzhao in detail on all supplies required, Liaochen returned to his quarters to prepare talismans, ritual implements, documents, and seals. Zhu Houzhao recorded every item and dispatched the Eight Tigers at once to procure them.

The following day, the imperial decree establishing royal orphanages throughout the realm was issued, pushed through forcefully despite objections, and publicly declared. The decree strictly required local officials to cooperate, but forbade any interference in the orphanages’ affairs, infuriating officials everywhere—was this not a blatant display of distrust in their “integrity”? Memorials flooded in like snow to the emperor’s desk, who, after reading a few, smiled coldly. He ordered the eunuchs to gather all opposing memorials—over a hundred volumes—and sent them to the Grand Secretariat, saying, “I trust all officials are well-versed in the classics, content with poverty, and upright as water. I leave the orphanages in your care. Yet, among the officials, there will inevitably be bad apples. So let the Grand Secretariat guarantee that not a single coin for the care of orphans and elders will be misappropriated. If not, you will share the guilt.” The grand secretaries were filled with dread. They knew well the virtue of officials and dared not guarantee anything. They could only praise imperial charity and insist that officials should not interfere, sternly rebuking those who spoke out of turn.

Ten days later, Liaochen bathed, changed clothes, and cultivated his spirit in preparation, then went to the Palace of Heavenly Purity to invite the emperor to the Temple of Heaven and begin the ritual to pacify the stars and pray for fortune.