Chen Biao lay flat on the bed, his hands folded over his stomach, staring blankly at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.
Madam Ma suppressed a smile as she fanned her precious son.
Chen Biao pouted. “Mother, I really don’t understand.”
Pressing her lips together to keep from laughing, Madam Ma replied, “Mm.”
Chen Biao said, “Ever since the Song Dynasty, scholars have spent all their energy fighting each other. Conflicts between academic schools stopped being simple scholarly debates and turned into life-and-death struggles where no one cared about right or wrong—only which side you stood on.”
Madam Ma wiped the fine beads of sweat from Chen Biao’s forehead. It was the height of June and July. Even indoors, the air was oppressively hot.
“I’m listening,” she said gently.
Chen Biao’s pout deepened.
“The Cheng-Zhu scholars are especially exclusionary. Whenever they encounter heterodox teachings, they spare no effort in burning books and cutting off those traditions. They’re even more dedicated to it than the Yuan emperors.”
Madam Ma sighed softly. Though she was a woman, she had heard many stories about the domineering behavior of Cheng-Zhu scholars.
Chen Biao scrunched his chubby little face into the shape of an actual steamed bun.
“Forget Mister Ye. But Mister Song and Mister Wang are direct heirs of the Cheng-Zhu tradition! Yet they actually stood up, slapped the table, and praised me, saying I didn’t even need to become their disciple—they’d teach me everything they knew anyway. Is there something wrong with their heads?!”
“Pfft.”
Madam Ma imitated the elegant ladies in paintings by hiding her smile behind a fan.
Unfortunately, the fan in her hand was a large palm-leaf fan, making the gesture rather ridiculous.
She coughed.
“Ahem… Biao’er, y-you continue.”
Fuming, Chen Biao attempted to spring upright from the bed like a carp leaping from water…
His soft little body failed completely.
He merely rolled around the bed several times before finally pushing himself up with his stubby arms and legs.
“Mother!”
“Hahahahaha!”
Madam Ma could no longer hold it in and burst into hearty laughter.
“Biao’er, this is a good thing.”
Still angry, Chen Biao threw himself into his mother’s arms and wiped the sweat from his face on her clothes.
“How is this a good thing? I stole the teachers meant for Marshal Zhu’s son! Isn’t Marshal Zhu going to beat me up?”
Laughing, Madam Ma wrapped her arms around her plump son.
“Why would he? Marshal Zhu isn’t that kind of person. Besides, your teachers will surely accept Marshal Zhu’s son as their disciple as well.”
Chen Biao pouted again.
“Wouldn’t that make it even worse? Marshal Zhu’s son has to earnestly beg to become their disciple, while I turned them down and they came flocking to me anyway… Aaaaah! Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? If I’d known this would happen, I’d have accepted them happily, then argued with them a few times and gotten expelled from the school!”
Madam Ma laughed so hard she nearly doubled over.
“Biao’er, with your personality, if your teachers treated you well, how could you possibly bear to hurt their feelings? Enough. What’s done is done. Stop brooding over it. Hurry and write your father a letter to tell him the good news. While you’re at it, have him say a few good words about you in front of Marshal Zhu so Marshal Zhu won’t beat you up… Hahahaha.”
Chen Biao could only grunt indignantly.
He could ram his own head into his father Chen Guorui’s ribs without hesitation…
But he had absolutely no way to deal with his mother.
So infuriating.
“Marshal Zhu, the teachers you had to order to teach your son all insisted on competing to teach mine instead. You’re not angry, are you?
Surely not? Surely not? Surely not?
Your heart couldn’t possibly be that small, could it?”
Was she really expecting Father to say something like that to Marshal Zhu?!
Chen Biao’s mouth twitched.
Setting down the fan, Madam Ma smiled as she gently kneaded the folds in her son’s bun-like face.
“Biao’er, don’t be prejudiced against the Marshal. He truly is a broad-minded and generous man.”
Expressionless, Chen Biao replied, “Oh.”
The Hongwu Emperor? Broad-minded and generous?
Sure.
I totally believe that.
“Forget it. Since things have already come to this…” Chen Biao slid out of his mother’s embrace and flopped back onto the bed. “Why don’t we just establish an academy and throw all the sons of the people trying to make me an elementary teacher into it? Joy shared is joy multiplied. Everyone can study and improve together. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Madam Ma wiped away his sweat and continued fanning him.
“That makes perfect sense. I’ll have Mister Li ask Mister Song and the others to establish an academy. They’ve only just joined the Marshal, so he probably won’t entrust them with government affairs immediately. Letting the gentlemen teach the children first would both show how highly we value them and give us an opportunity to observe their talents and character.”
Muttering unhappily, Chen Biao said, “I just wanted more people to share my misery. Why are you thinking so much for the Marshal?”
Smiling, Madam Ma pinched his soft, pudgy cheek.
“Very well, I won’t think for them. Shuang’er has been clamoring for a new illustrated literacy book. You promised him you’d give him one once he’d learned all the characters in the old one. He’s been making a fuss all day.”
Once again Chen Biao climbed out of bed.
“He doesn’t dare come bother me, so he only pesters you. Mother, next time he makes a fuss, just send him directly to me. Don’t spoil him.”
Madam Ma nodded.
“Very well.”
Chen Biao first woke the napping Chen Shuang and bullied his younger brother a little before heading to the study to retrieve the new illustrated book he had finished long ago.
After several incidents in which Chen Shuang had secretly sneaked into the study looking for new picture books, Chen Biao had hidden them much more carefully.
He had first made paper boxes that looked exactly like ordinary books, hidden the picture books inside them, and then placed the fake books among the lower shelves.
Chen Shuang always assumed he would hide books on the highest shelves.
Certain other people who also wanted to read the new picture books—such as his cousin Chen Wenzheng—would often use Chen Shuang as an excuse, carrying him over to search the highest shelves.
None of them had ever imagined that the ordinary-looking copies of the Four Books and Five Classics on the lower shelves concealed the very picture books they longed for.
After retrieving the new picture book, Chen Biao suddenly remembered Ma’s Philosophy, which was still far from finished.
Every transmigrator dreamed of accelerating the nation’s path toward modernity.
Some people turned that dream into reality.
Others merely dreamed.
Chen Biao belonged to the latter. He dreamed a little, then quickly integrated into his current society and avoided taking unnecessary risks.
Still, since he had transmigrated, he wanted to leave something behind.
He intended to record ideas that had already been proven correct in later generations, publish them in books, and pass them down to posterity. When the destined great figures finally appeared centuries later, those books would surely prove useful.
Chen Biao wasn’t worried that the books would become banned.
Books describing an “ideal society” had existed in every dynasty.
The Confucian vision of the Great Harmony, for instance, looked back longingly to the age of abdication and sage rulers.
A society where all people were equal.
A legal system where princes and commoners were punished alike.
A meritocratic society that valued ability over birth.
Such visions appeared not only in the works of ancient sages but also in popular fiction throughout history, reflecting ordinary people’s dreams of a better world.
By the late Ming and early Qing, many works had even begun advocating democracy in place of emperors.
Even during the Qing dynasty’s notorious literary inquisitions, such books were not banned.
Scholarship was still scholarship.
As long as no one had actually walked that path and proven it workable, rulers generally regarded scholars’ ideals as harmless fantasies.
A transmigrator without a cheat ability was hardly worthy of the title.
Perfect memory was the most basic cheat of all.
Not only was Chen Biao’s memory excellent in this life, but everything he had learned in his previous life remained engraved in his mind. Anything he had once memorized thoroughly—even if he had forgotten it later—still existed as a “backup” within the palace of his transmigrated memories.
Unfortunately, it only worked for things he had truly memorized. Merely reading something carefully wasn’t enough.
The original “Chen Biao,” whose memories he had inherited, had changed majors before graduate school because he didn’t want to enter a department with guaranteed postgraduate admission. As a result, he had memorized large portions of political science textbooks for the entrance exams.
Now Chen Biao was recording those “exam points,” supplementing them with his own understanding based on later history, and compiling Ma’s Philosophy.
When he was close to death, he intended to publish it under the guise of “an in-depth exploration of how to achieve the Confucian Great Harmony.”
Feudal rulers would never fear books written by an idealistic scholar.
They would fear even less the works of a dead man who could no longer profit from them.
Chen Biao thought that although he intended to spend this lifetime living only for himself and his family, occasionally helping those around him, if he could leave these books behind, he would at least have lived up to the little red scarf he had once worn as a child. (Smile.)
His life was still long ahead of him, so he wasn’t in any hurry.
He wrote a little whenever the mood struck him, fishing for three days and drying his nets for two.
By now, he hadn’t touched Ma’s Philosophy in several months.
Today, however, he was in a bad mood and wanted to write a few lines to calm himself.
“Where did I put it?”
Squatting on the floor with his little bottom sticking into the air, he rummaged everywhere.
“I distinctly remember hiding it underneath other books so no one would find it.”
Just then, Li Bao’er came by to borrow a book.
“Biao’er, what are you looking for? Want me to help?”
“I’m looking for something I wrote for fun… Could Shuang’er and Cousin Wenzheng have sneaked into my study again? No, that can’t be right. If they stole anything, it’d be storybooks. They’d never take a book full of nothing but text.”
Li Bao’er couldn’t help laughing.
Biao’er really did know them well.
Patting the dust from his legs, Chen Biao stood up, stretched, and scratched his head.
“Besides them, who else can freely enter my study… Cousin?”
Li Bao’er hurriedly shook his head.
“Not me! Not me! I always ask before borrowing your books! Could Uncle have taken it? Anything you write yourself would definitely interest him!”
Chen Biao froze.
Cold sweat instantly poured from his forehead.
N-no way…
If Comrade Chen Guorui—the honest, straightforward, innocent simpleton that he was—read that book…
Wouldn’t he slap his thigh, shout, “I’ve attained enlightenment!” and then rush over to Zhu Yuanzhang yelling, “Marshal! We don’t need an emperor—we need the people to rule themselves!”?!
Other people wouldn’t.
But Chen Guorui…
Chen Biao honestly wasn’t sure.
He truly didn’t dare gamble on just how innocent and simple-minded his father could be.
Hurriedly wiping the sweat from his forehead, Chen Biao said, “I remember Brother Ying kept a record of all the books Father borrowed… Where is it? Damn it! I was dozing off when Brother Ying mentioned it!”
“Don’t panic,” Li Bao’er comforted him. “Wenying definitely put the list somewhere you could reach. I’ll help you look.”
They removed the books from the second shelf one by one and quickly found the list.
The title Ma’s Philosophy stood out brightly among the otherwise solemn, respectable book titles.
Chen Biao’s chest tightened.
His vision went black.
His tiny body swayed.
Li Bao’er caught him in alarm.
“Biao’er? Biao’er, what’s wrong? Heatstroke?”
Shaking his head weakly, Chen Biao muttered,
“I… No. I can’t trust my father.”
Li Bao’er blinked.
“Huh?”
Grinding his teeth, Chen Biao said,
“My father’s such an honest fool that he’ll definitely show the book to Zhu Yuanzhang and then argue with him over it!”
“What?”
Grabbing Li Bao’er’s sleeve, Chen Biao cried,
“Brother Bao’er! You’re my only hope now!”
Though he had no idea what was happening, Li Bao’er immediately puffed out his chest.
“All right! Just tell me what to do! I’d go through fire and water for you!”
“Hurry and take me to Yangzhou! With Father’s personality, he definitely won’t waste time on anything unnecessary before the battle is over! Only after it’s finished will he take the book to Marshal Zhu!”
Li Bao’er stared blankly.
“W-What? Where did you say?”
“Yangzhou! Hurry! We have to get the book back before Marshal Zhu sees it!”
Damn it.
Anyone could read that book—
Just not his father.
His father was Zhu Yuanzhang’s number-one fan. Every other sentence out of his mouth was, “Marshal Zhu fights for the poor, not for himself. Biao’er, don’t misunderstand Marshal Zhu.”
If he saw the book, he might genuinely hand it over to Zhu Yuanzhang and ask him to govern according to its ideas.
But Zhu Yuanzhang was fighting to become emperor.
He needed the support of the great clans.
He needed the support of Cheng-Zhu Confucianism.
He needed the support of the people who actually controlled society’s resources and discourse.
There was no way he would appreciate the ideas in that book.
And if his straightforward father openly showed disappointment in Zhu Yuanzhang…
Given Zhu Yuanzhang’s narrow heart, once the Ming Dynasty was established, Father would surely end up on the very first purge list.
Besides, Chen Biao had originally planned to publish the book only after he himself had become a “great sage.”
At that age, with that reputation, no one would find it strange for him to write a book expounding the Great Harmony.
But now he was just a child.
How could a child possibly write something with such profound ideas?
If Zhu Yuanzhang asked where he’d learned it, how was he supposed to answer?
Invent some hidden sect whose members climbed over his walls every night to secretly teach him?
Zhu Yuanzhang wasn’t an idiot!
Muttering nonstop to himself, Chen Biao said,
“My father’s not an idiot. My father’s not an idiot. He definitely won’t run straight to Marshal Zhu. He still remembers to hide my identity as the Immortal Child. He definitely wouldn’t do something that stupid. My father’s not an idiot. My father’s not an idiot… Damn it! What if he really does something stupid?! Brother Bao’er! Our entire Chen family is doomed!”
Li Bao’er’s eyes widened.
“I-is it really that serious?! Biao’er, don’t panic! Let’s go find my father first!”
Wiping away the sweat pouring down his face, Chen Biao nodded frantically.
“R-right. Uncle!”
Li Bao’er scooped up the sweat-soaked Chen Biao and hurried off with him to find Li Zhen.
Though Li Zhen had no idea why Chen Biao was so anxious, Chen Biao was the Immortal Child. If he was in such a panic, there had to be a reason.
So Li Zhen immediately went to find Madam Ma.
Startled, Madam Ma asked her son,
“Is it really that serious? Is your father in danger?”
Leaning close to her ear, Chen Biao whispered anxiously,
“Yes! Father might get beheaded by Marshal Zhu!”
Madam Ma’s eyelids twitched.
Then there shouldn’t be any danger.
Unless Chongba swings his saber too hard while fighting on horseback, kills the enemy, can’t stop the momentum, and chops into his own leg afterward.
She asked another question.
“The book you wrote… is it really that problematic?”
Chen Biao nodded vigorously.
“It doesn’t matter if anyone else reads it. Just don’t let Marshal Zhu see it!”
Madam Ma still felt it probably wasn’t a major issue.
But seeing how nervous Chen Biao was, she decided it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Brother-in-law, how is the fighting in Yangzhou?”
Li Zhen answered,
“The Marshal has already taken Yangzhou City and is now handling the aftermath. Going there now should be safe.”
Madam Ma nodded.
“If Biao’er wants to go, then let him. Yangzhou isn’t far away. Before they leave, send someone ahead on horseback to notify Guorui.”
Nanjing and Yangzhou bordered one another, separated by only a little over two hundred li by land.
A fast horse could make the trip in half a day.
Chen Biao would have to travel by carriage, taking no more than two days.
The river route along the Yangtze and Grand Canal would be even faster, though it carried the danger of river bandits.
After giving her instructions, Madam Ma comforted Chen Biao.
“Your father won’t have time to read books before the aftermath of the battle is settled. We’ll make it in time.”
Chen Biao nodded.
He had wanted to write and tell his father not to read Ma’s Philosophy, and even if he did, not to show it to anyone.
But he worried Zhu Yuanzhang might inspect his subordinates’ letters.
After all, the Jinyiwei had been founded by Zhu Yuanzhang.
If he himself were Zhu Yuanzhang, seeing such a letter would only make him curious about Ma’s Philosophy, achieving the exact opposite effect.
Knowing his father well, Chen Biao believed that even if Chen Guorui became fascinated with the book, he would only approach Zhu Yuanzhang after finishing it and fully understanding it himself.
Yangzhou had only just fallen. His father was busy rebuilding the city and wouldn’t have much time to read.
There was still time.
Patting his chest, Chen Biao reassured himself.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Father isn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t run to Marshal Zhu before figuring it all out himself.
That very night, Chen Biao climbed into a carriage and set out for Yangzhou under the escort of Li Zhen, Li Bao’er, and Chen Wenzheng.
Though Chen Biao was still very young, Yangzhou was simply too close to Nanjing.
Leaving Li Zhen aside, both Li Bao’er and Chen Wenzheng were valiant young generals, and the escort consisted of Zhu Yuanzhang’s personal guards.
Madam Ma had no worries about such a short journey.
She was merely curious what kind of book could make Chen Biao, for the first time in his life, ask to leave home.
Since childhood—though he was still very much a child—Chen Biao had been absurdly cautious.
His repeated warnings for Chen Guorui to be careful around Zhu Yuanzhang proved as much.
After Chen Biao was born, Zhu Yuanzhang had conquered many territories.
Originally, Zhu Yuanzhang had wanted to take Chen Biao out of Yingtian and show him all the lands he had captured.
But Chen Biao always came up with countless excuses to refuse.
He could even claim that traveling more than a hundred li might give him difficulty adjusting to the local environment.
Both Zhu Yuanzhang and Madam Ma believed Chen Biao was not only overly cautious but also incredibly lazy.
In reality, Chen Biao simply hated traveling by ancient horse carriage.
The constant bouncing made his backside hurt, leaving none of the joy of sightseeing.
But this time, to stop his father from presenting Ma’s Philosophy to Marshal Zhu, he had no choice but to sacrifice his poor little butt.
Chen Wenzheng, ever the straightforward man who spoke before thinking, said,
“Little Brother, even if Fourth Uncle wanted to present the book, he’d copy it out himself and submit it under the name of some great Confucian scholar. How could he possibly betray you? Aren’t you just looking for an excuse to sneak away because you can’t handle how enthusiastic your new teachers are?”
Li Bao’er: “…”
He immediately cracked his whip against Chen Wenzheng’s horse.
“Get moving already! If you don’t leave now, Biao’er really will get angry from embarrassment.”
Sure enough, Chen Biao exploded in embarrassment.
Sticking his head out of the carriage window, he pointed at Chen Wenzheng and threatened him.
“When we stop later, you’re not getting any of the dipping sauce I brought! You can eat dry rations!”
Li Bao’er looked at Chen Biao’s embarrassed, furious expression in surprise. “Biao’er, could it be that Wenzheng was right? Are you really hiding from Master Song and the others?”
Chen Biao shrieked, “No! I’m genuinely worried my father will do something foolish! Even if there’s only a ten percent chance, we can’t gamble on it!”
Chen Wenzheng bared his teeth in a grin. “Right, right. Of course.”
Li Zhen had enjoyed enough of the show. Seeing Chen Biao’s face flushed red with anger, he finally stopped Chen Wenzheng from teasing him further.
Puffing out his cheeks, Chen Biao climbed back into the carriage to sulk.
He really was worried that Chen Guorui might do something reckless. He was simply taking precautions before disaster struck. His cousin was just a brute who couldn’t understand the value of caution!
While Chen Biao clutched his chubby little backside, suffering through the jolting carriage ride, Zhu Yuanzhang was gradually receiving letters sent from Yingtian.
Chen Wenzheng had beaten up Lan Yu. Li Shanchang had beaten up Chang Yuchun… Hm?
Reading the letters, Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes were filled with enormous confusion.
He read them over several times before bursting into laughter and tossing the letters to Xu Da.
On this campaign, he had only brought Xu Da with him. Tang He was leading forces elsewhere, so Zhu Yuanzhang could only share the amusing news about his son with Xu Da.
After reading the letters, Xu Da smiled and shook his head.
“I think Lord Li has become interested in having Biao’er serve as a little teacher.”
Zhu Yuanzhang said, “We’ll talk about it after I return. With how cautious Biao’er is, persuading him won’t be easy. Every day he keeps shouting that the Chen family is becoming too powerful and that Zhu Yuanzhang will cut off Chen Guorui’s head. If Zhu Yuanzhang really intended to execute the capable people around him, he’d cut off the head of you, the Grand General, before it was ever Chen Guorui’s turn.”
Xu Da had recently been granted the title of General-in-Chief for his achievements, making him the true commander of all the armies under Zhu Yuanzhang. Whenever Zhu Yuanzhang was not personally leading a campaign, all military operations were under Xu Da’s command.
Xu Da smiled.
“Not necessarily. I’m only especially good at fighting wars, and there are plenty of people who can fight well. But Chen Guorui’s talent for making money is unmatched. Only Lord Li has contributed more than Chen Guorui.”
Putting on a stern face, Zhu Yuanzhang said seriously, “Then we’ll execute Mister Li first. Only after that will it be Chen Guorui’s turn.”
Xu Da sighed.
“If Lord Li gets executed, Marshal Zhu really won’t have a single trustworthy scholar left.”
Zhu Yuanzhang stroked his beard.
“Then Biao’er can take his place. I trust Biao’er.”
Xu Da could no longer hold it in. Slapping the table, he laughed loudly.
“Boss, would you dare say that to Biao’er? If you do, I’ll raise both hands in support of you immediately.”
Zhu Yuanzhang also laughed.
“Raising both hands means surrender, not support. Ah, if only Biao’er could grow up faster. If he could suddenly become twenty years old, what would I have left to worry about?”
Xu Da said, “Even after Biao’er comes of age, Marshal, you can’t dump everything onto him. You want to take it easy—do you think Biao’er doesn’t?”
Chuckling, Zhu Yuanzhang opened another urgent letter.
“I’m not trying to take it easy. I want to become one of Biao’er’s great generals. Biao’er can govern the realm while I lead the northern campaign for him… Oh my heavens!”
Xu Da immediately leaned over.
“What happened? Boss, you’re so shocked your accent… Oh my goodness!”
“Oh my heavens!” and “Oh my goodness!” were both exclamations of surprise.
The two peasant men from Haozhou, who normally spoke in the official dialect to maintain a dignified image, were so astonished by this letter that they blurted out their hometown dialect.
Zhu Yuanzhang and Xu Da stared at each other.
“Two of the Four Great Scholars of Eastern Zhejiang, whom I couldn’t invite no matter how hard I tried, have come?”
“The two great Confucian scholars of Eastern Zhejiang have both arrived!”
“Isn’t Master Shuixin’s school the remarkable school Biao’er mentioned—the one that could stand toe-to-toe with the Cheng-Zhu School while Master Zhu himself was still alive?”
“Not merely disciples of that school—they’re Master Shuixin’s descendants! His direct descendants!”
Zhu Yuanzhang and Xu Da looked at each other once again.
After a long while, Zhu Yuanzhang clutched his chest while Xu Da took several deep breaths.
Calm down. Calm down. We’ve seen plenty of extraordinary things.
This…
We’ve not only never seen anything like this—we never even dared imagine it.
Xu Da’s voice trembled.
“Boss… Marshal… Didn’t you drive away all the scholars? How is it that such great Confucian masters would defy the trend among scholars across the realm and come to join you?”
Zhu Yuanzhang recovered his composure before Xu Da did.
He remembered what his son had once told him about the Mandate of Heaven.
His son had said that, in the future, Zhu Yuanzhang would curry favor with the scholars of the realm and shamelessly claim kinship with the Zhu family lineage, becoming an executioner who turned his blade against the weak.
Zhu Yuanzhang had originally believed that his son’s words meant the scholars of the world were simply impossible to please, so he might as well follow his own conscience.
Who could have imagined that after following his conscience and cutting himself off from the orthodox scholars, great sages would instead come to him of their own accord?
The Mandate of Heaven… the Mandate of Heaven…
Was this the Mandate that had always been meant for him?
Perhaps he never needed to flatter anyone.
As long as he did what he ought to do, restored peace and justice to the world, and ensured that ordinary people like himself would never again fear war or natural disasters, Heaven itself would grant him everything he desired.
Just as when Guo Zixing stripped him of military authority and forced him to return home to recruit a band of impoverished brothers, every one of them had turned out to possess the makings of a great general.
So all these unbelievable events were part of the Mandate of Heaven that Zhu Yuanzhang carried?
Taking a deep breath, Zhu Yuanzhang finally calmed down completely.
The Mandate of Heaven inspired awe.
Xu Da was still grinning foolishly.
“Boss, Biao’er is incredible! He said he wouldn’t take a master, yet those great scholars all said they’d teach him together even without making him their disciple!”
“Mhm.”
Closing the letter, Zhu Yuanzhang said, “If they are willing to brave the current and risk everything to join me, then I should repay that with my trust.”
Xu Da froze.
“Boss… you mean…”
Zhu Yuanzhang nodded without continuing the topic.
He picked up the last letter. Just as Xu Da tried to peek at it, Zhu Yuanzhang pushed his head away.
Xu Da asked curiously, “What’s in it that I can’t see?”
Zhu Yuanzhang replied, “Biao’er seems determined to come here because he sensed something that can’t be spoken of to ordinary people. Don’t read it.”
Xu Da laughed.
“Something that can’t be told to ordinary people? More likely it’s something that would make Marshal Zhu become wary of Chen Guorui.”
Zhu Yuanzhang said, “Since you already know, then get lost. Be careful, or I’ll become wary of you too and stab you in the back during our next campaign together.”
Xu Da stood up.
“But Boss, you’re always the one charging at the very front in every battle. If you wanted to stab me on the battlefield, you’d have to turn around first… Hey! Don’t actually draw your sword! I’m leaving! I’m leaving right now! I’ll go see whether the craftsmen have finished carving the stele.”
Dodging the stones Zhu Yuanzhang hurled at him, Xu Da hopped out of the tent.
Zhu Yuanzhang lived frugally. Even the paperweights on his desk were just ordinary stones picked up outside rather than precious jade or rare rocks, so he never felt bad about throwing them. But with their sharp edges and corners, getting hit by one hurt quite a bit.
After sending Xu Da away, Zhu Yuanzhang reopened the letter written by Madam Ma and muttered to himself,
“It has something to do with the books I’ve been reading? Could it be that one?”
He walked into his sleeping quarters, opened the chest beside his couch, searched through it, and found Ma’s Philosophy at the very bottom.
He followed a detailed reading schedule. Only after finishing the books in his plan would he read anything outside it as extra study.
When he had first obtained Ma’s Philosophy, he had only flipped through it briefly. Discovering that only a small portion of it actually contained text, he had tossed it aside.
Since the book hadn’t been fully copied yet, he might as well ask his son for the original when he returned and read the whole thing at once. Being able to read only half a book was enough to drive anyone mad.
Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Zhu Yuanzhang opened Ma’s Philosophy.
“What sort of book could make Biao’er so agitated? Surely it isn’t some heavenly scripture he brought back from the immortal realm, afraid that revealing it would divulge Heaven’s secrets? Probably not. Judging from my wife’s letter, Chen Guorui is allowed to read it, but Zhu Yuanzhang isn’t. Ah… Biao’er’s prejudice against Zhu Yuanzhang…”
Thinking of how Chen Biao blamed everything on “Marshal Zhu,” and remembering that he himself had contributed greatly by constantly shifting blame onto “Marshal Zhu,” Zhu Yuanzhang couldn’t help laughing.
…
When Zhu Yuanzhang personally led one hundred thousand troops to besiege Yangzhou, Zhang Mingjian was beside himself with panic.
Yingtian and Yangzhou bordered each other. It was obvious that Zhu Yuanzhang was determined to take Yangzhou. Even if he simply surrounded the city, the Qing Army would eventually be trapped to death.
Zhang Mingjian had only two possible outcomes—die in battle or surrender.
After several days of encirclement, Zhang Mingjian noticed that Zhu Yuanzhang’s forces had surrounded the city without attacking. They calmly built camps and fortifications, and even began surveying the surrounding farmland as though they intended to establish military colonies.
Only then did he realize he had run out of time to deliberate.
For amusement, they had previously slaughtered or driven away the ordinary people of Yangzhou.
Now the city was completely empty except for the Qing Army.
Even if they still had enough grain to eat, it was only a matter of time before they were worn down to death.
Moreover, Zhang Mingjian had turned the Qing Army into a band of demons. If the situation became hopeless, they would mutiny, and the first person they’d kill would be Zhang Mingjian himself.
After much hesitation, Zhang Mingjian finally sent an envoy outside the city to negotiate peace with Zhu Yuanzhang.
Zhu Yuanzhang replied that he would accept their surrender.
But Zhang Mingjian had to die.
Enraged, Zhang Mingjian declared that he would fight Zhu Yuanzhang to the death.
That very night, after receiving Zhu Yuanzhang’s reply, his deputy generals slipped into his quarters and chopped him into minced meat.
The demonic Qing Army showed no humanity toward ordinary people.
Why would they show any toward their own commander?
They had obeyed Zhang Mingjian only because they feared his brutal reputation. Now that Zhu Yuanzhang had sealed off the city, they naturally chose to cut off Zhang Mingjian’s head and present it to Zhu Yuanzhang as their pledge of allegiance.
The Qing Army was famous for its courage and fighting prowess.
When Zhang Shicheng and the other factions heard that Zhu Yuanzhang intended to attack Yangzhou, they had all expected the Qing Army to tear a huge chunk out of Zhu Yuanzhang’s forces.
Who could have expected that after only a few tentative engagements, the Qing Army would chop off their own commander’s head and surrender outright?
The other factions waiting to enjoy Zhu Yuanzhang’s misfortune were all dumbfounded.
At that time, Zhu Yuanzhang was still the weakest among the major powers in the late Yuan period. Whether it was the Yuan court, Zhang Shicheng, Xu Shouhui, or the other factions, none had chosen Zhu Yuanzhang as their first target.
Instead, they preferred to keep him around as a buffer zone between themselves.
His offense against the scholars of the realm only made them look down on him even more.
Build high walls. Store abundant grain. Delay proclaiming yourself king.
Relying on these “nine-character principles,” Zhu Yuanzhang quietly grew stronger while squeezed between competing powers.
By the time he finally revealed his brilliance, the other factions had already nurtured their own future disaster until it was beyond remedy.
Compared to Zhu Yuanzhang, they actually raised the bounty on the “Head of the Chen Family” year after year. They hated the Chen family patriarch far more than they hated Zhu Yuanzhang.
This effortless victory finally caused the various factions to become somewhat wary of Zhu Yuanzhang.
But very quickly, their vigilance vanished because of yet another unbelievable move by Zhu Yuanzhang.
He actually had all the deputy generals who had surrendered with Zhang Mingjian’s head tied up, ordered the fierce Qing Army to lay down their weapons, and announced that he intended to execute a group of them as sacrifices for the people of Yangzhou!
When Zhang Shicheng heard the news, he remained speechless for a long time before finally saying,
“Zhu Yuanzhang… Is something wrong with his head?”
The scholars under his command had already spent a long time denouncing Zhu Yuanzhang. Hearing Zhang Shicheng’s words, they all nodded in agreement.
From a moral standpoint, killing prisoners of war was inauspicious enough.
Yet Zhu Yuanzhang was even planning to use surrendered generals as sacrificial offerings?
Human sacrifice!
He was even more savage than the Mongols!
From a practical standpoint, if he killed surrendered generals, who would ever dare surrender to Zhu Yuanzhang again?
And there were ten or twenty thousand Qing soldiers—young, battle-hardened veterans! Even if Zhu Yuanzhang didn’t trust them, he could simply split them up and assign them to other commanders as reinforcements.
If Zhu Yuanzhang wasn’t insane, how could he possibly do something so incomprehensible?
While Zhang Shicheng and his scholar-officials were ridiculing Zhu Yuanzhang for having lost his mind, the same matter was being hotly debated in Yingtian.
Seeing the newly arrived great scholars who had recently joined Zhu Yuanzhang approaching together, Li Shanchang let out a faint sigh.
Before they could even speak, he clasped his hands in salute and said firmly,
“Although the Marshal has acted very foolishly this time, he wasn’t wrong. Yangzhou… Yangzhou was ravaged by Zhang Mingjian’s Qing Army until only eighteen households remained!”
“The Marshal… the Marshal… Whether he offended all the scholars of the realm over women binding their feet, or whether he made every future battle more difficult by insisting on avenging the people of Yangzhou… that’s simply the kind of person he is. Once he believes something is right, he’ll stubbornly pursue it to the point of utter hopelessness!”
As he spoke, Li Shanchang’s eyes reddened, and he suddenly burst into loud curses.
Yes. Yes.
Marshal Zhu, everything you think is right may indeed be right.
But being right doesn’t mean you can actually do it!
Look at the Records of the Three Kingdoms. The only truly benevolent regime was Shu Han.
Yet the greatest power was Cao Cao, Cao Mengde, who, according to the official histories, massacred entire cities twelve times—fully one quarter of the forty-eight recorded city massacres during the four hundred years of the Qin and Han dynasties!
If you insist on righteousness and following your conscience, couldn’t you at least wait until you’ve conquered the realm first?
Couldn’t you?!
If you fail to win the empire, then all your benevolence will be dismissed as hypocritical virtue, mocked as nothing more than empty posturing for fame.
The victor becomes king; the loser becomes a bandit.
Marshal Zhu, please understand that!
Song Lian and the others listened as Li Shanchang, his eyes red and tears streaming down his face, cursed Zhu Yuanzhang until he choked with sobs and could no longer speak.
The anger and shock on their faces gradually settled into calm.
Ye Zheng was the first to step forward.
“You curse him like this. Does that mean you’ll abandon him?”
Li Shanchang wiped his tear- and snot-covered face with his sleeve.
“Abandon him? Abandon what? If I leave, there won’t even be a clerk left to manage his documents.”
When Li Shanchang had first joined Zhu Yuanzhang, Zhu Yuanzhang had neither many troops nor any significant official position.
Li Shanchang’s only responsibility had been managing the handful of documents in Zhu Yuanzhang’s study.
Zhu Yuanzhang had been a minor commander.
Li Shanchang had been a minor clerk.
“Then why waste your breath cursing him?” Ye Zheng frowned, pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve, and handed it to Li Shanchang.
“If you have that much energy, you’d be better off figuring out how to restore the Marshal’s reputation. A man does a righteous deed and is condemned for it? There is no justice like that in the world. At least, not in my eyes.”
Song Lian and the others all nodded.
Holding the handkerchief, Li Shanchang stared blankly.
“You’re… not leaving?”
Wang Yi gave a cold laugh.
“You were hoping we would?”
Li Shanchang hurriedly shook his head.
“No, no, no. I just… I just saw how angry all of you looked…”
Ye Chen exchanged a glance with Song Lian before sighing helplessly.
“We are angry, but not at Zhu Yuanzhang. We’re angry at those so-called scholars who care only about sides, not right and wrong—who twist black into white and white into black.”
The group flicked their sleeves.
“You have a pen as sharp as a blade.”
“So do we.”
“Let us see whose pen-blade shines brighter—and whose words can illuminate this dark chapter of history.”