Hon. Zhu Youjiao, Tianqi Emperor
Zhu Youjiao, the Tianqi Emperor
Restoration of the Great Ming: A Tianqi Timeline
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A Storm Over China [Chapter 3]
Imperial Palace, Beijing
“Brother, I will not ask again. Open this door.”
There was the sound of furniture scraping. The Prince of Xin had refused his summons, had yet, in fact, to leave his private quarters. He must have been getting food delivered, somehow, but evidently he’d barricaded himself away and was not inclined to show his face.
It was understandable, given the recent traumatic events. Some of his council had suggested that he punish his brother for not showing up when called. The emperor thought that was a load of nonsense. His brother had always been a paranoiac. This was something he could deal with himself.
Eventually the sound of furniture moving stopped. The emperor waited a moment longer before pushing his way inside.
The room was in somewhat greater disarray than normal, which was saying something. His brother, stoop-shouldered and slightly wild-eyed, stood before him. “I had nothing to do with this,” he said, his voice slightly jerky with nerves.
“I-”
“I promise you I knew nothing,” he said, “I know people are going to be whispering about me because they think I’m mad but I didn’t have anything to do with-”
The emperor hugged his brother. “Shut up,” he suggested lightly. “I know that. I’m your brother. Remember Master Sun?[1] He wouldn’t want us to be stupid. Take a deep breath. Everything’s going to be fine.”
His brother breathed in, breathed out. “Thank you,” he said, quieter now. “I apologize. I’ve not been myself lately.”
“That’s okay. Just think for a moment,” the emperor said. “I know full well you wouldn’t raise a hand against me. And the conspirators are trying to kill my sons, this I know too. So it’s not one of us. Think. Who do you think is the center of this plot?”
The Prince of Xin thought about it. “Our cousin,” he said. “The Prince of Fu.”
“I thought so as well. Your reasoning?”
“He was son to our father’s brother,” the prince recited, “and there are some that said that he should have been emperor in your stead. But lately...yes, that makes sense. He has been traveling the country himself, and yet he has been absent from court functions for -- how long?”
“Long enough. Always wanting to plead off for one reason or another.” The emperor’s voice was grim. “I don’t want to spill his blood without being sure. But he will need to explain himself when this is over. I hope he won’t convince any of our more distant relations of his cause. It all fits, though. After myself, my sons, and you, he is next in line. And he is nowhere to be found.” He patted his brother on the back. “We’ll find him in due time. He’s probably reaching out to people he thinks he can turn. Which is where I’ll need your help.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You can write, far better than I can.” The emperor, after years of hard work, had finally learnt to write his own name clumsily with a specially made brush. He had been content with that; he had others to read and write for him, as he always had. “I’ll need you to reach out to the contacts you’ve made over the years. Let our subjects and our allies know that we stand strong. Something subtle. Don’t say that we’re going to crush them utterly if they betray us, but imply it. I don’t know. You’re better at this sort of thing.”
“Right.” The prince was breathing normally now. “I think I can do that.” He tried to smile. “But if they turn against us-?”
“Don’t even think about that,” the emperor said firmly. “They won’t. Heaven itself wouldn’t let them do that.”
Footnote
[1] Sun Chengzong, formerly Grand Secretary and once a tutor to the future emperor. Remember him? He's been in retirement since 1638 and is quite old, but ITTL he is still alive. for now
“Brother, I will not ask again. Open this door.”
There was the sound of furniture scraping. The Prince of Xin had refused his summons, had yet, in fact, to leave his private quarters. He must have been getting food delivered, somehow, but evidently he’d barricaded himself away and was not inclined to show his face.
It was understandable, given the recent traumatic events. Some of his council had suggested that he punish his brother for not showing up when called. The emperor thought that was a load of nonsense. His brother had always been a paranoiac. This was something he could deal with himself.
Eventually the sound of furniture moving stopped. The emperor waited a moment longer before pushing his way inside.
The room was in somewhat greater disarray than normal, which was saying something. His brother, stoop-shouldered and slightly wild-eyed, stood before him. “I had nothing to do with this,” he said, his voice slightly jerky with nerves.
“I-”
“I promise you I knew nothing,” he said, “I know people are going to be whispering about me because they think I’m mad but I didn’t have anything to do with-”
The emperor hugged his brother. “Shut up,” he suggested lightly. “I know that. I’m your brother. Remember Master Sun?[1] He wouldn’t want us to be stupid. Take a deep breath. Everything’s going to be fine.”
His brother breathed in, breathed out. “Thank you,” he said, quieter now. “I apologize. I’ve not been myself lately.”
“That’s okay. Just think for a moment,” the emperor said. “I know full well you wouldn’t raise a hand against me. And the conspirators are trying to kill my sons, this I know too. So it’s not one of us. Think. Who do you think is the center of this plot?”
The Prince of Xin thought about it. “Our cousin,” he said. “The Prince of Fu.”
“I thought so as well. Your reasoning?”
“He was son to our father’s brother,” the prince recited, “and there are some that said that he should have been emperor in your stead. But lately...yes, that makes sense. He has been traveling the country himself, and yet he has been absent from court functions for -- how long?”
“Long enough. Always wanting to plead off for one reason or another.” The emperor’s voice was grim. “I don’t want to spill his blood without being sure. But he will need to explain himself when this is over. I hope he won’t convince any of our more distant relations of his cause. It all fits, though. After myself, my sons, and you, he is next in line. And he is nowhere to be found.” He patted his brother on the back. “We’ll find him in due time. He’s probably reaching out to people he thinks he can turn. Which is where I’ll need your help.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You can write, far better than I can.” The emperor, after years of hard work, had finally learnt to write his own name clumsily with a specially made brush. He had been content with that; he had others to read and write for him, as he always had. “I’ll need you to reach out to the contacts you’ve made over the years. Let our subjects and our allies know that we stand strong. Something subtle. Don’t say that we’re going to crush them utterly if they betray us, but imply it. I don’t know. You’re better at this sort of thing.”
“Right.” The prince was breathing normally now. “I think I can do that.” He tried to smile. “But if they turn against us-?”
“Don’t even think about that,” the emperor said firmly. “They won’t. Heaven itself wouldn’t let them do that.”
Footnote
[1] Sun Chengzong, formerly Grand Secretary and once a tutor to the future emperor. Remember him? He's been in retirement since 1638 and is quite old, but ITTL he is still alive. for now
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(My apologies for the delayed update. I know where the story is going, I just need to write the damned thing.)
Can relate
Also Im loving this
You avoiding the typical pitfall of the brothers trying to kill each other over contrived circumstances and lack of communication is a highlight of this story to me, you could easily have gone for that for drama but you instead displayed their bond within a realistic standard(they are both paranoid and scared of each other for understandable reasons, but they know their sibling better than this and so talk it out) and that for me really strengthens the story greatly
The short answer is that by this point, eldest son succession has been rather thoroughly beaten into everyone. The emperor's younger sons would get a little bit of land and were more or less content with the arrangement. Which isn't to say there were zero civil wars -- the Yongle Emperor famously gained the throne by deposing his older brother -- so a violent attempt like what I'm depicting isn't impossible -- but it's very much a perfect storm. The Wanli Emperor couldn't get a younger son named heir because the scholar-officials started complaining about the departure from tradition. Although he was considering it...which, unfortunately, has led us to the situation we have ITTL. (Another possible point of divergence for a TL -- the Wanli Emperor keeps his mouth shut!)
(My thanks to the kind comments.)
Correction my friend - his older brother's (crown prince who died in 1392) son the Jianwen Emperor.
Some argue (and it is my view as well) that if Yongle Emperor's older brother lived, a rebellion would not have happened in the first place since he was the undisputed heir and was reportedly very diligent and clever - the perfect heir some might say.
Herp. I misspoke. Indeed, you're correct!
Another potential point of divergence for another author (after the conclusion of this timeline, I shall pursue other aspects of history, so it is quite free for the taking).
A Storm Over China [Chapter 4]
Menasunkur village, Ezo
The village stood at the mouth of the Shibechari River, so named because of the many salmon that spawned in its waters, although this was not the right time of year for salmon. In fact, it was more typical in these months to receive visitors from across the seas. Not, of course, the prideful retainers of clan Matsumae, who only ventured beyond the hinterlands of their town when they wanted something. The foreigners from across the seas were a different kind, and tended to arrive as unobtrusively as possible. Someone had mentioned to Wakka that the Matsumae didn’t really care all that much, but if they knew the true extent that the other foreigners were around, they might start demanding a larger tribute in exchange for their silence, so everyone maintained the polite fiction of secrecy.
Wakka, personally, was skeptical that this state of affairs would last for very long. The Matsumae were not the abstemious sort, and even if they enjoyed autonomy from their bosses further south (Wakka was not very familiar with the government of the southerners), sooner or later they’d ask for too much. And then what would his people do?
He tried to explain this to his friend Isonash, but the younger man just grunted. “You think too much, man.” His head was wreathed in a cloud of smoke.
Wakka sighed. The other foreigners -- the ones from across the seas, not the Matsumae -- brought with them interesting goods to trade, including the leaves of some plant that Isonash liked smoking. It put the guy in a good mood, but he would get kinda grouchy whenever he ran out.[1]
But Isonash had his cigarros, so he didn’t care much. Wakka felt something was off, though. For one thing, the ship was late. And the foreigners who disembarked were looking awfully grim when they went to talk to the chief.
“Come on. Live up to your name a little.” He nudged Isonash. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
Isonash sighed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Probably the war or something.”
“War? Who’s fighting?”
“Depends on the war.”
“There’s more than one?”
Isonash breathed out another cloud of smoke. His parents had hoped he’d grow up to be a great hunter. Well, he did well enough to trade for cigarros, but he did little else. “Sure,” he said. “The new foreigners are in a pissing match with Matsumae’s bosses. Which would be interesting enough if the new foreigners weren’t also fighting themselves, because they’re trying to figure out who’s the real chief. Something along those lines.” He tapped his forehead. “I keep my ears open.”
Wakka sighed. Somehow, the fact that Isonash didn’t even have to try to be successful was annoying. Not like anybody tells me anything, Wakka thought.
“Why’d you ask?” Isonash broke into his musings. “You looking to join up with them, become a sailor?”
“Nah. I’m not going away like that.” Although there were plenty of folk who did. The work was hard, they said, and dangerous, but quite profitable. “And if they’re in as much of a mess as you say, what’s the use, huh?”
“Mmm, they may be recruiting among us now, for all the good it does them. I wouldn’t count them out just yet,” Isonash said, taking another deep breath of the fragrant smoke. “But I don’t think they’ll be able to get our chief much of the stuff he wants. He’s been stockpiling all kinds of fancy weapons, that’s no secret here, and I don't think he'll be happy with any delay.”
Wakka had heard something of it but hadn’t really thought of it until now. Of course the chief liked weapons; what chief didn't? “You think the chief’s about to make a power play? Against Matsumae?”
“Not my business,” Isonash said calmly. “I wouldn’t put it past him, once he’s ready. If there’s one thing about Shakushain, he’s not lacking in courage. That’s for sure.”[2]
Footnotes
[1] Isonash is smoking tobacco, likely traded to Dongshan or “acquired” from the Spanish, who have been cultivating tobacco in the Philippines for decades. Not opium. Just for the record.
[2] IOTL, Shakushain was a chief of the Menasunkur Ainu who eventually led his people in a border skirmish that became a general war against the Matsumae. The conflict ended with a negotiated peace but Shakushain and many of his retainers were assassinated immediately afterwards. ITTL he’s obviously alive as of 1645-46. Japanese Wikipedia notes that another guy was chief until Shakushain inherited the position in 1653, but Shakushain is chief now because of butterflies or something. (His predecessor died IOTL amid a border skirmish with another Ainu group, so let’s say that it happened a little bit earlier -- or Dongshan-provided weaponry led to more violent conflict that led to some deaths ahead of schedule -- so our guy Shakushain is in charge right now.)
Wakka and Isonash, being rather minor characters intended to give a quick snapshot of the Ainu, are fictional.
The village stood at the mouth of the Shibechari River, so named because of the many salmon that spawned in its waters, although this was not the right time of year for salmon. In fact, it was more typical in these months to receive visitors from across the seas. Not, of course, the prideful retainers of clan Matsumae, who only ventured beyond the hinterlands of their town when they wanted something. The foreigners from across the seas were a different kind, and tended to arrive as unobtrusively as possible. Someone had mentioned to Wakka that the Matsumae didn’t really care all that much, but if they knew the true extent that the other foreigners were around, they might start demanding a larger tribute in exchange for their silence, so everyone maintained the polite fiction of secrecy.
Wakka, personally, was skeptical that this state of affairs would last for very long. The Matsumae were not the abstemious sort, and even if they enjoyed autonomy from their bosses further south (Wakka was not very familiar with the government of the southerners), sooner or later they’d ask for too much. And then what would his people do?
He tried to explain this to his friend Isonash, but the younger man just grunted. “You think too much, man.” His head was wreathed in a cloud of smoke.
Wakka sighed. The other foreigners -- the ones from across the seas, not the Matsumae -- brought with them interesting goods to trade, including the leaves of some plant that Isonash liked smoking. It put the guy in a good mood, but he would get kinda grouchy whenever he ran out.[1]
But Isonash had his cigarros, so he didn’t care much. Wakka felt something was off, though. For one thing, the ship was late. And the foreigners who disembarked were looking awfully grim when they went to talk to the chief.
“Come on. Live up to your name a little.” He nudged Isonash. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
Isonash sighed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Probably the war or something.”
“War? Who’s fighting?”
“Depends on the war.”
“There’s more than one?”
Isonash breathed out another cloud of smoke. His parents had hoped he’d grow up to be a great hunter. Well, he did well enough to trade for cigarros, but he did little else. “Sure,” he said. “The new foreigners are in a pissing match with Matsumae’s bosses. Which would be interesting enough if the new foreigners weren’t also fighting themselves, because they’re trying to figure out who’s the real chief. Something along those lines.” He tapped his forehead. “I keep my ears open.”
Wakka sighed. Somehow, the fact that Isonash didn’t even have to try to be successful was annoying. Not like anybody tells me anything, Wakka thought.
“Why’d you ask?” Isonash broke into his musings. “You looking to join up with them, become a sailor?”
“Nah. I’m not going away like that.” Although there were plenty of folk who did. The work was hard, they said, and dangerous, but quite profitable. “And if they’re in as much of a mess as you say, what’s the use, huh?”
“Mmm, they may be recruiting among us now, for all the good it does them. I wouldn’t count them out just yet,” Isonash said, taking another deep breath of the fragrant smoke. “But I don’t think they’ll be able to get our chief much of the stuff he wants. He’s been stockpiling all kinds of fancy weapons, that’s no secret here, and I don't think he'll be happy with any delay.”
Wakka had heard something of it but hadn’t really thought of it until now. Of course the chief liked weapons; what chief didn't? “You think the chief’s about to make a power play? Against Matsumae?”
“Not my business,” Isonash said calmly. “I wouldn’t put it past him, once he’s ready. If there’s one thing about Shakushain, he’s not lacking in courage. That’s for sure.”[2]
Footnotes
[1] Isonash is smoking tobacco, likely traded to Dongshan or “acquired” from the Spanish, who have been cultivating tobacco in the Philippines for decades. Not opium. Just for the record.
[2] IOTL, Shakushain was a chief of the Menasunkur Ainu who eventually led his people in a border skirmish that became a general war against the Matsumae. The conflict ended with a negotiated peace but Shakushain and many of his retainers were assassinated immediately afterwards. ITTL he’s obviously alive as of 1645-46. Japanese Wikipedia notes that another guy was chief until Shakushain inherited the position in 1653, but Shakushain is chief now because of butterflies or something. (His predecessor died IOTL amid a border skirmish with another Ainu group, so let’s say that it happened a little bit earlier -- or Dongshan-provided weaponry led to more violent conflict that led to some deaths ahead of schedule -- so our guy Shakushain is in charge right now.)
Wakka and Isonash, being rather minor characters intended to give a quick snapshot of the Ainu, are fictional.
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Before I forget, I'm not the first or only person to depict foreign influences among the Ainu -- @Thande did so to great effect, years ago, in the monumental Look to the West -- and though I feel that particular TL requires no introduction (it's even got a TvTropes page), I just wanted to note my own small debt to other works.
I will also note that, incidentally, as far as research goes, foreign-language Wikipedias and public domain texts on Google Books make for remarkably useful research tools.
I will also note that, incidentally, as far as research goes, foreign-language Wikipedias and public domain texts on Google Books make for remarkably useful research tools.
BlackDragon98
Banned
"The conflict ended with a negotiated peace but Shakushain and many of his retainers were assassinated immediately afterwards."
You know you're a good commander when the Japanese have to deploy ninjas to kill you.
You know you're a good commander when the Japanese have to deploy ninjas to kill you.
Eh more like Ming smugglers doing illegal trading stuff I highly doubt Zheng Zhilong have the time and energy to stir shit in japan when he is busy being a colonial overlord
Hoooboy so I've been recovering from what is probably just a bad cold (nothing more serious, thankfully, I've been taking all precautions on that regard) -- I'm getting better now, I think (pseudoephedrine is a wonderful substance).
But yes, I wanted to provide a glimpse into peripheral areas beyond the immediate environs of China. Shakushain is alive right now, therefore let's get a quick look (from the perspective of two very low-ranking figures) of what he's planning. A general rising against Matsumae? Not yet -- right now, Shakushain is just one of several tribal leaders who can command significant support -- so it's still awhile before he would be able to be counted as the leader of the Ainu (and even then, I'd count the island of Ezo -- as the Japanese of this time called it -- as being mostly not occupied by formal states? like, there's the Matsumae settlement, but the political structures that characterize statehood are mostly absent).
That being said, trade is a wonderful thing. I have mentioned before how trade goods like jicama have made their way across the ocean -- tobacco, also, is being grown on this side of the Pacific -- and Zheng Zhilong's ships do a fair bit of trade with the Ainu. Said trade is probably severely hampered due to Zheng's ongoing fights with the Dutch, and the necessity of throwing together a force to support the emperor, much to the disappointment of men like Shakushain (who had likely been looking forward to acquiring more weapons and other useful goods). But -- considering that Zheng's fleets are probably in need of sailors right now -- you can imagine some Ainu enlisting to serve on Zheng's ships, getting some significant combat experience, and coming home with interesting perspectives...
Things are turning, slowly, and while certain figures among the Ainu are starting to get ideas, it's going to be a little while before an all-out conflict would be plausible, in my mind. But once that happens...
But yes, I wanted to provide a glimpse into peripheral areas beyond the immediate environs of China. Shakushain is alive right now, therefore let's get a quick look (from the perspective of two very low-ranking figures) of what he's planning. A general rising against Matsumae? Not yet -- right now, Shakushain is just one of several tribal leaders who can command significant support -- so it's still awhile before he would be able to be counted as the leader of the Ainu (and even then, I'd count the island of Ezo -- as the Japanese of this time called it -- as being mostly not occupied by formal states? like, there's the Matsumae settlement, but the political structures that characterize statehood are mostly absent).
That being said, trade is a wonderful thing. I have mentioned before how trade goods like jicama have made their way across the ocean -- tobacco, also, is being grown on this side of the Pacific -- and Zheng Zhilong's ships do a fair bit of trade with the Ainu. Said trade is probably severely hampered due to Zheng's ongoing fights with the Dutch, and the necessity of throwing together a force to support the emperor, much to the disappointment of men like Shakushain (who had likely been looking forward to acquiring more weapons and other useful goods). But -- considering that Zheng's fleets are probably in need of sailors right now -- you can imagine some Ainu enlisting to serve on Zheng's ships, getting some significant combat experience, and coming home with interesting perspectives...
Things are turning, slowly, and while certain figures among the Ainu are starting to get ideas, it's going to be a little while before an all-out conflict would be plausible, in my mind. But once that happens...
Indigenous resistance against colonising powers is always good to see in a timeline; let's hope the Ainu get a better outcome than they did in our history.