The darkness before dawn is always the longest. Outside the military tent, the rain had finally eased, but the air was thick with an even heavier oppression. Zhu Gaochi had summoned the generals of the Five Military Commissions and the heads of all departments overnight. In that tense gathering, he announced the death of Emperor Yongle and immediately issued strict orders: no one was to abandon their post, and anyone who dared to stir unrest among the troops would be executed without mercy.
The crown prince's imposing presence, paired with the grief of losing his father, suppressed any sign of dissent from the commanders.
Yet, in the vacuum of power, there are always predators with keen senses and restless ambition.
Just as dawn was breaking, a flood of urgent messages poured into Zhu Gaochi's tent like a snowstorm. Informants reported suspicious activity outside Prince of Han Zhu Gaoxu's camp; scouts returned with intelligence that Oirat cavalry were moving frequently along the northern border, perhaps preparing to strike south. Each report confirmed what Li Ming had claimed in yesterday's "dream revelation," setting off alarm bells in Zhu Gaochi's mind.
"That treacherous Han Prince!" Zhu Gaochi's face turned ashen, jaw clenched tightly. The emperor's body is barely cold, and already fraternal bonds are being eclipsed by ambition?
"Your Highness," said Yang Shiqi solemnly, stepping forward, voice low but sharp, "now is the moment when speed is of the essence. We must act preemptively to stabilize the situation. As for the Crown Prince…"
He paused, glancing at the tent where Li Ming lay, his gaze complex. The boy who had been at death's door yesterday was now steering the fate of an empire.
Zhu Gaochi suddenly stood up, eyes flashing with resolve. He was not a man prone to indecision—his benevolence had merely masked his iron. Now that the Ming Empire teetered on the edge of chaos, he would need the iron will of both Taizu and Chengzu.
"Deliver my order!" he barked. "Send elite troops to seal off the Han Prince's camp immediately! No one enters or leaves without my command!"
The order sent a wave of tension through the entire camp. Armored elites surged toward Zhu Gaoxu's quarters like a flood.
Meanwhile, in another tent…
Li Ming lay on his cot, his face still pale but his eyes clearer than ever. He knew Zhu Gaochi was now following the "script" he had written. Prince Zhu Gaoxu was indeed harboring imperial ambitions—he was foolish, yes, but not without hunger. Amid chaos, small acts of treachery were inevitable. And Li Ming's role? To magnify those actions into undeniable threats, forcing Zhu Gaochi's hand.
Through Wang Zhen, Li Ming had "accidentally" left some incriminating notes in the tents of Zhu Gaoxu's confidants—words suggesting a coup—or "unintentionally" let certain rumors reach Zhu Gaochi's ears. These seemingly insignificant gestures were in fact carefully placed sparks, igniting a blaze of suspicion in Zhu Gaochi's heart.
"Your Highness, the Crown Prince has ordered the Han Prince's camp sealed off," Wang Zhen reported in a hushed voice, his face full of awe. Just yesterday, the Crown Grandson had seemed on the verge of death—now he was manipulating the entire imperial court? It was staggering.
Li Ming nodded slightly, the corner of his lips curling just a hair. The pieces were in motion. Time to draw the net tight.
"Wang Zhen, go tell the Crown Prince that I…" cough cough "…am too weak to rise. Yet the Empire is in mourning, and the throne must not remain vacant. Request that His Highness come to my tent—I have matters of great importance to discuss. As for Father's coffin… temporarily station it in the central command tent, and place heavy guards around it. We'll hold the funeral when the situation is secure."
Wang Zhen's heart trembled. Inviting the Crown Prince to the tent of the Crown Grandson—before the formal enthronement—to discuss state affairs? That could only mean…
But he dared not question it and swiftly obeyed.
Before long, Zhu Gaochi entered Li Ming's tent once more, accompanied by Yang Shiqi. His face was weary and anxious, but his eyes now carried the sharpness of a blade.
"Zhanji, I've ordered the Han Prince's camp locked down," Zhu Gaochi said gravely. "What you said earlier… about Father's dream… perhaps it was not a mere illusion after all…"
Li Ming slowly opened his eyes. At that moment, they were unusually deep, filled with sorrow and knowing.
"Father…" His voice was faint but each word reached Zhu Gaochi's ears clearly. "What I saw… was no illusion. In the dream, Father spoke of the great peril facing the Ming Empire—of vile men eyeing the throne. He… he knew of your kind heart, Father, and feared it would not withstand the weight of this turbulent age. That is why… why he entrusted me…"
He paused, painfully extending a trembling finger toward Zhu Gaochi's chest, his tone heavy, as though conveying divine will: "Father said, in extraordinary times, we must take extraordinary actions. The ruler of the Ming must wield thunder to command the world. Father… you must ascend the throne at once, to affirm the rightful line and suppress all dissent!"
Zhu Gaochi staggered back, his face pale. He had known ascension was urgent, but to hear it so bluntly from the lips of his deathly ill son—claiming it was the emperor's will? That…
"I know your heart is gentle, Father," Li Ming continued, even weaker now, though his eyes glittered with fire, "and that you do not wish to take the throne before the funeral rites. But the Empire comes first! If you do not act now, the Han Prince and others will seize the chance, rousing the vassals to rebellion. Blood will soak the land, and the people will suffer!"
He coughed violently and spat blood onto his pillow—his face now deathly white.
"Father! I… I won't live much longer… but if I must die, let it be for Ming! I beg you… I beg you… ascend the throne here and now! Only then can you strike down the traitors and calm the hearts of the army!"
Every word pierced the heart, every phrase lethal.
Ascend the throne—here, in a field tent?!
Zhu Gaochi turned sharply to look at Yang Shiqi, who immediately bowed and declared, "Your Highness! His Highness the Crown Grandson speaks wisely. These are dire times. The nation cannot go a day without a ruler! The troops are uneasy. If we do not act now, we risk disaster!"
Qian Yi and Xia Yuanji, realizing what was unfolding, exchanged glances. Though stunned, they too understood the stakes. This was no time to hesitate.
"Your Highness, for the sake of the realm!" they both cried, falling to their knees.
Zhu Gaochi's eyes moved between the three ministers and Li Ming on the bed. He understood—his son was cornering him while helping him. Using his "near-death" appearance, leveraging a supposed "dream," and citing "national stability," the boy had shoved him onto the stage of history—and demanded a decision.
He looked deep into Li Ming's eyes—dark, fathomless, calculating. This wasn't a dying youth—this was a masterful manipulator, playing all sides like pawns on a board.
But Zhu Gaochi had no way out. With the Han Prince scheming outside, unrest growing within, and the emperor dead, the Ming Dynasty stood on a knife's edge.
"Very well!" Zhu Gaochi clenched his jaw, resolve flaring in his eyes. "Then by Father's will… and Zhanji's urging…"
He turned toward the tent's entrance and bellowed, "Send my command! Assemble the troops! In the central command tent, proclaim to the heavens: Today, by Heaven's Mandate, I ascend the throne!"
His voice pierced the rain and echoed across the camp.
At that moment, the entire army froze in awe.
And Li Ming, hearing the decree, finally relaxed. His body slumped back, his expression still weak and exhausted.
Ascension? No. This was merely the beginning.
The real performance was yet to come.
He had claimed the throne.
But Zhu Gaochi… could not die just yet.
He still had his uses.
A coronation that should have taken place in the Purple Forbidden City of Jinling had instead been sparked in a humble campaign tent—set in motion by a "dying prince's" whisper.
Thus, on the eve of a crimson dawn, the imperial power of Ming underwent a most unusual succession.
Let me know if you'd like a more formal or stylized version for publication or dramatization!