When Deng Ying saw Emperor Zhenning in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the Emperor could barely sit up. A large swelling had formed at his throat, with pus and blood pressing against his windpipe. The imperial physicians frequently had to lift the Emperor’s neck to prevent him from suffocating.
Deng Ying knelt before the bed to present the memorials. Emperor Zhenning glanced at them but could hardly keep his eyes open, managing only to breathe out the word “read.”
Following the command, Deng Ying read aloud the memorials from the Ministries of War and Revenue, as well as the Cabinet’s proposals.
The Emperor slightly raised his head and asked hoarsely, “When… when were these memorials submitted?”
Deng Ying reported while kneeling, “Seven days ago.”
“Hu Xiang…” The Emperor opened his eyes. “Why… why hasn’t the Directorate of Ceremonial stamped them yet?”
Hu Xiang quickly responded, “The matter is of great importance, the Keeper of the Seal… is still deliberating.”
The Emperor’s face flushed as he began coughing. The four physicians waiting in the adjacent chamber hurried over with snuff, holding it under the Emperor’s nose.
The Emperor laboriously lowered his head to inhale for a moment. When his breathing steadied somewhat, he raised his eyes and called out again, “Hu Xiang…”
“This slave is here.”
“Tell He Yixian, he is a slave!”
As the word “slave” left his mouth, the Emperor’s shoulders suddenly jerked. He began coughing again, so severely that sparks appeared before his eyes. The physicians quickly helped him sit up as palace servants came forward to pat his back and help regulate his breathing.
Everyone in the hall knelt. Hu Xiang trembled as he spoke, “Master… please don’t upset yourself. Take your anger out on us slaves instead, we know we were wrong…”
Hu Xiang kowtowed repeatedly, while the other palace servants didn’t dare make a sound.
Deng Ying silently watched Hu Xiang, waiting for the Emperor’s next words.
“Deceiving your sovereign, how dare you deceive me! Beat you… will that make you remember?”
Hearing these words, Hu Xiang’s whole body shuddered. He quickly crawled on his knees to the Emperor’s feet. “Master, your slaves’ ears are connected to your heart. We wouldn’t dare forget a single word you say. We deserve punishment for our poor service, but when you accuse us of deceiving you, we cannot accept that even in death… Please look into our hearts, even if you must tear them out…”
“Enough…”
The Emperor lowered his head and drew up his legs. “Drag him out, let him and He Yixian receive the mandarin duck beating.”
Hu Xiang collapsed and was dragged out like a corpse by the Imperial Guards.
“Deng Ying…”
“This slave is here.”
“Come closer.”
Deng Ying straightened up and walked to the bedside, bending down close to the Emperor.
The Emperor’s breath was very hot, mixed with medicinal and metallic smells that entered Deng Ying’s nose.
“Tomorrow… bring me the Cabinet’s memorial on choosing an heir… I will read it myself…”
“Yes.”
The Emperor nodded, “Go… oversee the punishment.”
“Yes.”
“One more thing…”
“This slave is listening.”
The Emperor tilted his neck back, trying to make his voice flow more smoothly, “Tell He Yixian, if he harbors improper ambitions again, he won’t be needed to preside over my funeral rites…”
The funeral rites naturally referred to the grand ceremonies after the Emperor’s death.
With these words, the Emperor had essentially given He Yixian a pardon from execution.
Deng Ying stood up and walked out into the rain. He pointed to an Eastern Depot official eunuch to relay a message to Yang Lun at the palace gate.
By the time he returned to the Eastern Depot, the heavy rain had just stopped, with water from the puddles gurgling through the drainage ditches outside the compound.
Qin Wende was dragging He Yixian and Hu Xiang toward the inner courtyard.
Two white cloths were laid out at the bottom of the steps, with eight guards securing the corners. As if venting his anger, Qin Wende took out two heavy canes about three inches wide and threw them onto the white cloth with a “thwack” that immediately made Hu Xiang wet himself.
As Deng Ying walked toward the entrance, Qin Wende hurried a few steps to meet him. “The messenger didn’t specify the number, Supervisor. How many strikes?”
Deng Ying glanced at the white cloths on the ground and said evenly, “One cloth is enough.”
“Huh?”
Qin Wende scratched the back of his head. “Beat one person? Weren’t both supposed to be beaten?”
Deng Ying said, “Mandarin duck beating.”
“What?”
“Do as ordered.”
Deng Ying turned around. “These are His Majesty’s orders.”
Then he said to the guards holding He and Hu, “Untie their bonds.”
Qin Wende was somewhat dissatisfied and lowered his voice to say to Deng Ying, “What’s the point of a mandarin duck beating? Isn’t this just letting them put on a show?”
Deng Ying remained silent.
He Yixian laughed as he knelt on the ground. “I never thought I’d see the day when you would discipline me.”