MLMD -Chapter 350 Conspiracy Under the Night Sky

In June, Shengjing was entering its sweltering season. The land was lush, the waters plentiful, and by all logic, the people living here should have been in high spirits. Yet in reality, Shengjing was shrouded in a somber gloom. The imperial palace, in particular, was draped in white cloth and pale silk. The maids and eunuchs passing through wore white gauze robes, their faces bearing expressions as if they had lost their parents.

In the Yongfu Palace on the southern side of the imperial grounds, Consort Zhuang, Dayuer, sat in a chair wearing a plain white palace robe. In her arms were two girls, about eight or nine years old, and her delicate face carried a trace of anguish. She stared silently ahead, her lips sealed. Beside her sat another middle-aged woman, dressed similarly in plain palace silk, likely in her thirties or forties.

Though this woman’s age was approaching middle age and fine lines had begun to appear at the corners of her eyes, one could still see the beauty of her youth. She was Dayuer’s aunt, Borjigit Zhezhe.

Zhezhe glanced at Dayuer’s pained expression and tried to console her: “Bumubutai, the Great Khan is gone. You must try to stay strong. There’s still his child in your womb, and Yatu and Atu—the two children—also need your care. You cannot let yourself despair.”

“I won’t, Auntie,” Dayuer replied with a faint smile, her sorrow tinged with a quiet determination. “Girls from the Khorchin tribe are not so fragile. When I married the Great Khan, I was only thirteen. The Khan was often away at war. After all these years, haven’t I managed? I am not so weak.”

“That’s good!” Zhezhe patted her ample chest and exhaled in relief. “I was afraid you might despair, afraid you’d do something foolish. How could I ever explain it to your Abu if that happened?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Dayuer said with a bitter smile, touching her belly. “This time, I feel the child will be a boy. I must give birth and carry on the Great Khan’s legacy, shouldering the responsibilities of the Aisin Gioro family.”

“That’s the right way to think,” Zhezhe nodded, relieved, though her expression soon turned serious. “Bumubutai, in these days, the leaders of the banners and the princes are discussing who should inherit the throne. For matters like this, it’s best we women keep our mouths shut, lest we bring disaster upon ourselves. From my view, it is almost certain that the position will fall to Hooge. We should say as little as possible—if we offend him, it could end badly.”

“Even so, I don’t think this is something we can avoid,” Dayuer said after a pause, disagreeing with her aunt. “Auntie, you know the Khan had many heirs, but the only one now with a real chance to succeed is Hooge. The others are just the Khan’s brothers. But I think Hooge is reckless and bold but lacks strategy. He is far from being the Khan’s ideal choice. Besides, the Manchus do not strictly follow father-to-son succession, so I don’t have much faith in him.”

“Shh… lower your voice.”

Zhezhe, shocked that Dayuer would speak such nearly treasonous words, went pale. She quickly covered Dayuer’s mouth and anxiously glanced around. Seeing no one nearby, she exhaled in relief and scolded Dayuer in a low voice: “You fool! How dare you say that! If Big Brother hears this, you’ll have a world of trouble!”

Dayuer gently moved Zhezhe’s hand aside, giving her a glance. “Auntie, you’re too cautious. You are a proper empress, and besides, Abu and my brother are not weak. Whoever becomes Khan would not dare disrespect us.”

Her words carried a quiet pride and calm, not forced but earned. Her father, Zaisang, Zhezhe’s brother, was the chief of the Khorchin tribe. In recent years, with ties to Yue Yang, the tribe had flourished, its population growing to some sixty to seventy thousand warriors. Her brother Wukeshan was a banner commander of the Han army’s Plain White Banner, holding military power as well. So even though the two women were technically “just” women, they commanded respect. During Emperor Huang Taiji’s reign, even he had shown them respect; now, in such a sensitive time, that respect was even more necessary.

Just as Dayuer finished speaking, a palace maid hurried in and whispered: “Your Highnesses, greetings. Prince Suwu requests an audience.”

“Big Brother? What’s he here for?” Dayuer and Zhezhe exchanged surprised glances. To dare enter the palace at such a sensitive time was audacious indeed—proof, perhaps, of what Dayuer had just said about his courage exceeding his prudence.

Though Zhezhe was Dayuer’s aunt, she often lacked initiative. Dayuer, known for decisiveness, met her gaze and asked with a resigned tone: “Shall we see him or not?”

Dayuer gave a bitter smile. “He sent a summons; if we refuse, it would only raise suspicion. Fine… let him in.”

Soon, Hooge entered Yongfu Palace with a palace maid. Though recently bereaved, Hooge wore a red-and-black princely robe, with a layer of white gauze over it like the two women. He strode up and respectfully bowed: “Child Hooge greets Mother and Consort Zhuang.”

Though Zhezhe was not Hooge’s birth mother, as the palace matron, it was proper to address her as “Mother.”

Zhezhe nodded gracefully. “Rise. Bring Prince Suwu a seat.”

A maid soon set a small round stool for Hooge. Once seated, he said to Zhezhe: “Mother, I have urgent matters to report to you and Consort Zhuang.”

“Oh? And what might those be?” Zhezhe asked lightly.

Hooge glanced at the dozen or so maids attending them, waving his hand: “All of you, leave. I have important matters to discuss with Mother and Consort Zhuang alone.”

The lead maid peeked at Zhezhe and Dayuer, and upon seeing Zhezhe nod, she led the others away.

With the room emptied, Zhezhe furrowed her brows. “Prince Suwu, what is it you wish to tell Consort Zhuang and me?”

Suddenly, Hooge stepped forward, knelt before the two women, and cried out: “Child has been grievously wronged. I beg Mother and Consort Zhuang to intervene!”

Both women were shocked. Zhezhe exclaimed: “Hooge, what are you doing? Why kneel? Can’t you speak plainly?”

Hooge’s face was twisted with sorrow, tears streaming down. “Mother, I have been gravely wronged. Ama… Ama did not die of illness… he was… murdered!”

“What!”

Both women jumped to their feet. Dayuer extended a trembling hand toward Hooge: “Prince Suwu… you must not speak recklessly! If this spreads, the consequences would be catastrophic!”

“Indeed! This cannot be spread, or it would bring untold disaster!” Zhezhe’s face drained of color, her hands trembling.

“I am not lying. This has evidence,” Hooge said through clenched teeth. “During the campaign, Father fell ill from anger, but the imperial physician told me that his condition, though severe, could have lasted six months. Yet on the night before our army reached Shengjing, exhausted from travel, I slept after dinner. In the middle of the night, someone came and told me that Father had… passed away. This could not have happened unless he was harmed! Later I heard that after I left, Dodo visited him personally, even feeding him a bowl of porridge. After that, Father died unexpectedly. If no foul play was involved, I don’t believe it!”

Hooge’s face contorted with anger as he spoke.

Dayuer, however, shook her head with a bitter smile. “Prince Suwu, the imperial physicians examined the Great Khan; there is no sign of poison. Telling us this now serves no purpose. What’s done is done.”

Hooge turned to Zhezhe. “Mother, you think the same?”

Zhezhe’s face was like stone. “Prince Suwu, Consort Zhuang is correct. The Great Khan has been buried. Revisiting the past serves no benefit, whether he was murdered or died naturally. It is inappropriate to bring it up now.”

“What? You think the same?”

Hooge grew furious, standing and shouting: “So… Father died in vain?”

Dayuer also stood, asking loudly: “Then what do you suggest?”

Hooge, unchecked, shouted: “We must arrest Dodo immediately, interrogate him, find out who was behind Father’s death, and execute all conspirators to uphold the law!”

Seeing Hooge’s contorted rage, Dayuer lost even the desire to argue. She waved her hand, disappointed, and murmured: “Enough… we are women; even if we wished to intervene, we cannot. Go. But rest assured, we will keep this secret.”

“You…”

Hooge froze, dumbfounded. To him, when a woman learns her husband was murdered, shouldn’t she rise in righteous fury and avenge him? Yet these two seemed indifferent.

“Fine… fine… if you will not avenge Father, I shall do it myself!”

With that, Hooge strode out, leaving the two women behind with only his angry back.

After a while, Zhezhe’s voice broke the silence: “Sigh… earlier you said Hooge lacked strategy, but it seems he lacks more than strategy. He is… utterly foolish.”

Shaking her head in frustration, she continued: “Who does he think he is? The Great Khan? To speak so arrogantly! Daring to arrest Dodo—while he is a mere banner prince—is madness! He forgets that Dodo and Dorong are not powerless!”

“Don’t mind this fool,” Dayuer said darkly. “Hooge’s arrogance will bring him ruin. We cannot rely on him; he will drag us down one day.”

Zhezhe, slightly surprised, looked at Dayuer. It seemed her niece had completely lost faith in Hooge, calling him a “fool.”

Sighing, Zhezhe nodded. “I know you are decisive, but this is serious. Tell me, what do you intend to do?”

Biting her lip, Dayuer said: “Relying on Dodo that fool is impossible. Tonight, I must meet Dorong and make a bargain.”

“Dorong?”

“Yes,” Dayuer nodded solemnly. “In the Qing, he is the only one capable of inheriting the throne. Tonight, I will leave the palace…”

“What… you will leave the palace?” Zhezhe exclaimed.

The summer sun set late; night fell only at the seventh hour. With Huang Taiji recently deceased, Shengjing had imposed a curfew, and the city felt eerily quiet. The streets were empty except for occasional patrols.

Two sedan carriers hurried through alleyways, guided by a middle-aged man wearing a melon-seed hat. He seemed familiar with the patrol routes, navigating swiftly. They arrived at a courtyard and entered. Once the sedan set down, a veiled figure emerged—a woman, identifiable by her slender silhouette despite her face being covered.

She entered a room within the courtyard. Once inside, lights were lit one by one until the room became bright, revealing a middle-aged man.

He laughed lightly: “Consort Zhuang, you kept me waiting.”

She replied coolly: “The saying goes, ‘Better safe than sorry.’ Prudence is never wrong. Isn’t Old Fourteen the same? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have allowed Dodo to commit that massacre.”

The woman was Dayuer. The man waiting was Dorong, current chief of the Plain White Banner and Prince Shuo.

Dorong sneered: “Massacre nine clans? What a joke. Who in Qing would dare? My Ama is the founder of the Qing. Even if you wanted to, Consort Zhuang, you wouldn’t escape.”

“Enough of useless words,” Dayuer said, her patience thinning. “Someone told me the Great Khan’s death involves you. Tell me honestly—did you kill him?”

Dorong paused, then said: “I didn’t expect you to notice so quickly. Yes… Fourth Brother’s death is my doing. What, you seek vengeance?”

Dayuer froze, then furiously shouted: “How… how could you? He was your Fourth Brother!”

Dorong laughed coldly: “Fourth Brother? When he killed my mother, did he consider me, his fourteenth brother? After Ama died, he left us motherless. Should we not avenge Mother? If we didn’t act first, he would have harmed us next.”

Dorong’s words were filled with bitterness and resentment, his square face twisted into rage. Dayuer was shocked.

After a long moment, Dayuer sighed quietly. Objectively, Dorong spoke the truth. Knowing the Great Khan was dying, he would eliminate anything threatening his sons—his brothers were first.

“Enough of right or wrong. I am here to tell you that my aunt and I will support your ascension to the throne,” Dayuer said.

Her words struck Dorong like thunder, leaving him stunned.

“You… what? Support my ascension?”

Dorong murmured, then his eyes sharpened. “What are your conditions? Speak them.”

“I have two conditions,” Dayuer said. “First: after you become emperor, my aunt and I return to the Khorchin grasslands. Second: the child in my womb—if it is a boy—when you die, the throne must pass to him. If you agree, my aunt and I will fully support you.”

Her hands fidgeted under the table, veins standing out from the tension.

Dorong pondered, his eagle-like eyes flashing. After a long pause, he raised his head decisively: “Very well… I agree!”