Many people may have questions: when the old emperor dies and the new sovereign officially ascends the throne, how should the transitional period in between be counted? In fact, according to the rules of the Ming Dynasty, once the imperial edict of succession is issued, the titles of ruler and subject are already established—the new sovereign is, in effect, the Son of Heaven, and the ministers must serve him as they would serve the emperor. There can be no carelessness whatsoever.

As for the enthronement ceremony, it is merely a formal event to announce the new ruler to the world.

To put it another way, receiving the imperial edict is like getting a marriage certificate, while the enthronement ceremony is the wedding banquet with friends and family. The banquet is indispensable, but the actual confirmation of the marriage is just that little booklet.

Although Charles Brooks's situation was special, once he received the imperial edict in Anlu, he became the ruler of the Ming Dynasty.

This is precisely why James Young dared not replace him; otherwise, the whole world would have risen up against him.

The trouble was that the civil officials wanted Charles Brooks to become Emperor Xiaozong’s son, which meant first forcing him to become crown prince, and then having him succeed as heir. That’s why, when Stephen Mason went to Anlu, he opposed greeting Charles Brooks with the etiquette due to the emperor, and only treated him as the crown prince.

Clearly, the throne was already in his hands, yet he was still being treated like a child and toyed with.

One can imagine Charles Brooks’s mood. Fortunately, in the end, things were not decided solely by the civil officials!

“Edward, you’ve helped me tremendously. From now on, wealth and honor will be within your grasp. You are the person I trust most.” Here, Charles Brooks was making all sorts of promises, his whole demeanor unnaturally excited.

Henry Foster could only smile wryly. Although Charles Brooks was more clever than most young men, at this critical moment, he too could not keep his composure.

“Well... Your Majesty, everything else is easy to discuss, but I have just one reminder.”

“What is it?” Charles Brooks asked. “Whatever you want, I’ll agree to it!”

“My request is... absolutely do not agree!”

“Don’t agree?” Charles Brooks was confused. What kind of strange request was this?

Henry Foster pointed outside. “There are still two more rounds!”

This time, Charles Brooks understood—it was about the matter of urging him to take the throne.

It must be said, three is a magical number. The Dao De Jing says ‘three begets all things,’ and ordinary people believe ‘things should not be done more than three times.’ Even the most important enthronement ceremony requires three refusals and three invitations.

One must act out the part of “I clearly want it, but cannot accept it, and am only reluctantly compelled to take it” with great affectation, or else it would be considered improper.

Henry Foster was afraid that Charles Brooks, in a moment of excitement, would accept right away, which would make him a laughingstock.

“What a hassle!” Charles Brooks puffed out his cheeks, grumbling. Suddenly, he grew worried again. “Edward, what if they see me refuse and take the opportunity to pick someone else?”

This poor kid had really been put through the wringer—he was almost paranoid... Henry Foster couldn’t help but laugh and cry. “Rest assured, Your Majesty! With the prestige of the Grand Ancestor, in our Ming Dynasty, there’s no way a Cao Cao or Wang Mang could appear!”

In Henry Foster’s eyes, at this moment, Charles Brooks was like a young man about to enter the hall of marriage, lacking any steadiness or experience. It was almost contemptible. Honestly, if we switched places and I became emperor, I’d definitely do better than you!

While Henry Foster was lost in thought, Charles Brooks had already refused the first group urging him to take the throne, using the excuse that he was still in mourning and had no time to consider other matters.

Indeed, for most new sovereigns, their father has just died, and they are grief-stricken, unwilling to ascend the throne... This is the universal excuse.

But when it came to Charles Brooks, no matter how you looked at it, it just didn’t feel right.

His father had been dead for less than three years, and he was about to ascend the throne—but the problem was, his father had nothing to do with his imperial position!

“Grand Secretary, what should we do?”

Samuel Grant kept a stiff face, as if he had swallowed two pounds of fried flies and maggots, but what could he do? He truly regretted it—if he’d known, he wouldn’t have fought for Stephen Mason’s role and let him go talk to Charles Brooks. Whether or not there was any urging, he wouldn’t have to be so troubled.

But he just had to be blinded by greed, wanting to curry favor with the new sovereign... This is what’s called being blinded by profit. At his age, it was truly shameful!

At this moment, Samuel Grant was riding a tiger and couldn’t get off.

“Forget it, just send in the second group!” Samuel Grant said through gritted teeth.

The people below could only agree. The second group, mainly military officials and nobles, went in to kowtow and plead.

As expected, Charles Brooks refused again, saying he was still young and afraid he could not bear the burden of the empire.

They withdrew, and then came the third group. This time, Samuel Grant personally led over a hundred civil officials to once again earnestly invite Charles Brooks, appealing to the ancestors and the need for the Ming Dynasty to have a sovereign, with all the officials and people looking up to His Majesty!

Faced with such a “sincere” request, Charles Brooks finally “very reluctantly” nodded his agreement.

“Prepare the carriage, and respectfully welcome His Majesty into the city!”

Finally, it was time to enter the city!

Charles Brooks first glanced at the capital—the majestic city walls, like a giant beast crouching on the ground. Anlu could not compare to even a corner of the capital. From today on, this city, this world, would be his.

Charles Brooks did not rush to get in the carriage, but walked around it once, his youthful face full of smiles. He even gestured with his hand and muttered to himself, “It really is much taller than the old one!”

No need for many words—one sentence is enough!

From Anlu to the capital, he had always ridden in the crown prince’s carriage. Only at this moment did he switch to the emperor’s carriage. The difference in height was not much—just one foot and seven inches—but that small distance marked the difference between the Son of Heaven and the crown prince!