Zhu Yuanzhang and his old brothers carried on making merry for half the night. Chen Biao couldn’t stay awake any longer and went back to bed early.
Before sleeping, he directed Zhu Wenying and several burly servants to drag Zhu Wenzheng and Zhu Wenzhong away, force-feed them sobering soup, and make them rest early.
Putting on the airs of a little elder, Chen Biao lectured, “Don’t pick up their bad habit of getting drunk and acting crazy while you’re still so young. It’ll ruin your future careers.”
Being scolded for being “so young” by a child with barely a three-head-tall body proportion, Zhu Wenzheng and Zhu Wenzhong obediently placed both hands on their knees and nodded repeatedly. Zhu Wenying couldn’t help laughing.
The next morning, Zhu Yuanzhang kicked Tang He, who was sprawled on top of him, off with one foot, then stepped over Xu Da, whose leg was draped across Tang He.
Li Zhen entered carrying a bowl of hot soup.
“Guorui, you’re awake? Have some soup to sober up.”
Zhu Yuanzhang drained the bowl in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and said, “Biao’er definitely made this.”
Li Zhen couldn’t help smiling. “You can tell that? Biao’er got up at dawn. After preparing soup and breakfast for you in the kitchen, he went to the pavilion to study by the morning light.”
“My son is just that diligent.” Zhu Yuanzhang looked proud at first, then immediately turned worried. “He’s still so little. He needs plenty of sleep to grow. What’s the difference between reading early or late? My son is a child prodigy—he learns several times faster than anyone else. Why does he need to squeeze out this little bit of time? And why is he studying outside by daylight? Even if I, Old Zhu… Old Chen, were dirt poor, would I really begrudge him lamp oil?”
After one sentence of pride came an endless stream of worried complaints.
Li Zhen laughed helplessly.
“Eat first, then go ask him yourself. Biao’er has endless arguments ready. I can’t win against him.”
Looking fierce, Zhu Yuanzhang declared, “After breakfast, I’m going to give him a good talking-to!”
Watching Zhu Yuanzhang sweep away with his sleeves billowing, Li Zhen couldn’t help chuckling.
Xu Da and Tang He, who had been waking up inside the room while leaning on each other’s shoulders and yawning, had heard the entire conversation.
Tang He waggled his eyebrows.
“Big Brother sure looks intimidating. Want to bet whether he’ll actually scold Biao’er?”
Xu Da accepted the bowl of soup from a servant, drained it in one gulp, smacked his lips, and said, “Who’d bet with you? As if Big Brother would ever scold Biao’er. Biao’er’s cooking really lives up to his reputation as a heavenly child. Even an ordinary hangover soup becomes a masterpiece in his hands.”
Only then did Tang He drink his soup. As soon as he finished, he shoved aside the Xu Da whose arm was still around his shoulder and dashed after Zhu Yuanzhang.
In reality, he was afraid Zhu Yuanzhang’s appetite would leave him without breakfast. But judging from the way he waved his arms and shouted, “Big Brother! Big Brother!” anyone would think he was charging into battle beside him.
Xu Da stumbled before regaining his balance and cursed, “As if Biao’er would let us go hungry! Why are you in such a rush?”
Li Zhen burst out laughing.
“Go on. Biao’er steamed big buns today. He prepared all kinds of fillings as a surprise. Aren’t you afraid those two will take one bite out of every bun to see which tastes best?”
Xu Da’s expression changed instantly, and he also charged out.
Li Zhen laughed even harder.
After the battle over the buns, Xu Da and Tang He went from looking ready to kill each other back to slinging arms over each other’s shoulders. They returned home for a short rest before the afternoon meeting.
Zhu Yuanzhang, meanwhile, went to “lecture” his son.
He tiptoed toward the place where Chen Biao was studying.
Although it was the hottest month of June, children were more sensitive to the cold. Chen Biao wore a padded cotton robe over his clothes that morning, and on his head sat a tiger hat.
The moment Zhu Yuanzhang saw the hat, he knew his wife must have made it.
He stroked his chin.
His wife embroidered excellent tigers. She had embroidered quite a few for him in the past.
Zhu Wenying picked Chen Biao up.
Holding a piece of chalk, Chen Biao wrote on a blackboard.
“Today we’ll begin the first chapter of the Analects.”
Because he was so young, Chen Biao’s voice wasn’t very loud.
Each time he spoke a sentence, Zhu Wenying repeated it loudly, serving as Chen Biao’s amplifier.
Outside the pavilion stood a row of trees. Beneath their shade sat several rows of men, women, old people, and children of all ages. Each had a small sand tray before them and held a twig, copying the characters from the blackboard.
Zhu Yuanzhang unconsciously stopped and hid behind the corner of a wall.
Turning to Li Zhen, who had followed him over, he whispered, “Biao’er is…?”
Li Zhen lowered his voice as well.
“Biao’er says that teaching others what you’ve learned helps you understand it better yourself.”
Zhu Yuanzhang sighed.
“I see… But what’s the point of these people learning?”
Li Zhen replied, “Biao’er says that reading enlightens people. If they’ve learned something, then it’s useful.”
The expression on Zhu Yuanzhang’s face gradually settled until it became the calm, unreadable look he always wore before outsiders.
“How long has Biao’er been doing this?” he asked quietly. “I never even knew.”
On Li Zhen’s weathered middle-aged face appeared an unexpectedly mischievous smile, making Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyelids twitch.
“It’s more interesting when Guorui sees Biao’er’s surprises with his own eyes. If everything comes from someone else’s mouth, where’s the fun?”
Zhu Yuanzhang shot Li Zhen a glance, then continued watching Chen Biao put on his serious little round face and act as a tiny teacher in his childish voice.
After a long while, he smiled, turned around, and quietly left without disturbing the lesson.
As he exited the courtyard, he spotted his nephew and nephew-in-law hiding behind the moon gate.
He kicked each of them once.
“What are you two sneaking around here for?”
Embarrassed, Zhu Wenzheng and Zhu Wenzhong scratched their heads, looked at each other, and finally Zhu Wenzheng spoke first.
“When we saw Cousin Biao teaching people, we felt embarrassed to interrupt.”
Zhu Wenzhong nodded vigorously.
Zhu Yuanzhang said sternly, “Didn’t I hire tutors for both of you? You’ve both studied before. What’s there to be embarrassed about?”
Zhu Wenzhong scratched his head again.
“It… it just feels different.”
Zhu Wenzheng added, “When the tutor was teaching me, I could even roll my eyes at him. But seeing so many people sitting below listening to Cousin Biao lecture… I… uh… I don’t even dare breathe loudly.”
The moment Zhu Yuanzhang heard that Zhu Wenzheng had dared roll his eyes at his teacher, he started rolling up his sleeves to beat him.
Li Zhen hurriedly stopped him, signaling that they shouldn’t disturb Chen Biao’s class.
Zhu Yuanzhang dragged his nephew and nephew-in-law away. The two of them were also attending the meeting with him.
As they walked behind Zhu Yuanzhang, Zhu Wenzheng and Zhu Wenzhong whispered to each other.
“When I take Ah Ying’s turn accompanying Cousin Biao, won’t I get to be a teacher too? Heh!”
“I-I’m a little nervous.”
With his hands behind his back, Zhu Yuanzhang looked up at the cloudless June sky.
Back when he herded cattle for a landlord, the world had not yet descended completely into chaos.
The landlord’s clan maintained a private school. Zhu Yuanzhang would often crouch outside the wall, listening to the clear voices of students reciting their lessons, filled with envy.
If I, Old Zhu, ever become Emperor, I’ll make sure everyone under Heaven can read.
The ambitious dream sounded almost childishly naïve, perhaps because the meat buns he’d eaten that morning had filled him with enough energy to feel as though he could accomplish anything.
In the military camp by Xuanwu Lake, Zhu Yuanzhang changed into fresh clothes and took the seat of honor at the head of the council hall.
His face was stern, cold, and intimidating, already carrying much of the bearing of a sovereign.
On either side of him sat Xu Da and Li Shanchang at the front, calmly reporting the recent victories and the current difficulties.
Xu Da maintained his usual poker face. Even his voice remained perfectly steady, as unshakable as the style with which he fought his battles.
Behind Xu Da stood Tang He, head lowered, looking the most respectful among all the generals.
Behind Tang He stood Zhou Dexing, another of Zhu Yuanzhang’s childhood friends.
Perhaps because his achievements had been comparatively modest, Zhou Dexing wore a perpetual frown.
Apart from Zhu Yuanzhang’s three closest childhood companions, the other generals were seated according to rank, each looking remarkably well-behaved.
Across from them, the civilian officials glanced at this group of peasant-born “bandit generals.”
Every time they saw these rough fellows acting so obediently before Zhu Yuanzhang, they found it astonishing.
After reviewing the current situation, the meeting moved on to future military operations.
Nominally, the Red Turban Army still served the Little Ming King, Han Lin’er.
Han Lin’er had been a puppet from the very beginning.
His father, Han Shantong, had been a religious zealot of the White Lotus Sect. He went everywhere proclaiming that the world was about to descend into chaos, that Maitreya Buddha would appear, calling people to rise against the Yuan, while claiming to be the eighth-generation descendant of Emperor Huizong of Song.
Although Han Shantong’s rebellion was quickly crushed, his uprising sparked rebellions throughout the land.
Among Han Shantong’s former followers, Liu Futong grew the strongest.
In the fifteenth year of the Zhizheng era, Liu Futong found Han Shantong’s son Han Lin’er, proclaimed him Emperor of Song, and declared the first year of the Longfeng era.
Coincidentally, that was also when Guo Zixing died, allowing Zhu Yuanzhang to absorb Guo Zixing’s forces and become the leader of a small faction.
To let Liu Futong continue drawing the Yuan Dynasty’s main offensive in the north, Zhu Yuanzhang also adopted the Longfeng era name and publicly acknowledged Han Lin’er as his sovereign.
This was one part of Zhu Yuanzhang’s strategy of “delaying the proclamation of kingship.”
After Han Lin’er became Emperor, Liu Futong naturally became the Yuan’s primary target and spent his days constantly fleeing.
Not long ago, Han Lin’er had appointed Zhu Yuanzhang as Left Chancellor of the Jiangnan Branch Secretariat.
Never mind what sort of strange title that actually was—even Han Lin’er and Liu Futong themselves probably didn’t know.
Zhu Yuanzhang had returned to Yingtian this time specifically to consult his officials about whether they should assist the Han Song regime in return for this “Left Chancellor” title.
In the end, everyone unanimously agreed.
Our Zhu Yuanzhang faction has too few men, too little territory, and too little grain. We’re the weakest and most pitiful of all the Red Turban armies. We simply can’t help His Majesty.
Your Majesty, surely you can withstand the Yuan offensive and restore the glory of your ancestor Emperor Huizong of Song.
All right. Next agenda item.
Zhu Yuanzhang spoke quietly.
“Miao Daheng, did you know that only a dozen or so households remain in Yangzhou?”
Miao Daheng was horrified.
“Only a dozen households? Zhang Mingjian has kept the city sealed shut. The civilians shouldn’t have been able to escape. How could only a dozen households remain?”
Zhu Yuanzhang raised a hand.
Zhu Wenzheng immediately bolted from the room to fetch Zhu Wenying, who was waiting outside.
Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyelids twitched.
His nephew was excellent in every way except that he was far too lively. He needed proper tempering.
Hopefully Biao’er could keep Wenzheng in line.
At that moment, Zhu Yuanzhang had completely forgotten that his Biao’er was only five years old, while Zhu Wenzheng was already twenty-four. Had Zhu Wenzheng married young, he would have been old enough to be Chen Biao’s father.
After accompanying Chen Biao’s lesson, Zhu Wenying hurried over, making his first appearance before Zhu Yuanzhang’s principal subordinates.
Most of Zhu Yuanzhang’s officers were puzzled by the unfamiliar youth.
Why is some random kid allowed into the council hall?
But when Zhu Wenying introduced himself with a name beginning with “Zhu Wen—,” the suspicious looks immediately disappeared.
Oh. The Marshal has adopted another godson.
Nothing unusual, then.
Zhu Wenying clearly and methodically recounted everything they had learned in Yangzhou, leaving everyone furious.
Miao Daheng, who had originally advocated accepting Zhang Mingjian’s surrender, reacted the most violently. His hair practically stood on end with rage as he begged Zhu Yuanzhang to send him to Yangzhou to kill Zhang Mingjian.
In the original course of history, Zhu Yuanzhang should have captured Yangzhou first, then entered Sichuan, taken Guanzhong, and only afterward pacified Fujian later that year.
But because Chen Biao wanted to establish maritime trade, Zhu Yuanzhang had concentrated his forces on conquering Fujian first.
The sequence had been reversed.
However, Zhang Mingjian hadn’t occupied Yangzhou for several additional years.
Instead, because Zhu Yuanzhang had gone to attack Fujian, the butterfly effect allowed Prince Boluo of the Yuan to receive greater reinforcements and remain in Yangzhou for another year or two.
Only after the Yuan forces withdrew did Miao Daheng propose attacking Yangzhou.
Everyone under Zhu Yuanzhang knew their own strength was limited, so they behaved with extreme caution.
They absolutely refused to confront the Yuan’s main armies head-on.
At most, they could support the Han Song forces from behind while seizing territory in the south, barely managing to survive.
Only after the Han Song armies pushed the fighting into Korea, Shenyang, and Kaifeng did they gain a little more freedom of action.
Yangzhou was the hub of the Grand Canal.
It had to be taken.
After discussion, they decided to surround the city first, persuade Zhang Mingjian to surrender, and then execute him using the crimes committed within Yangzhou as justification.
Although there was an accepted custom against killing surrendered generals, once Zhang Mingjian’s atrocities in Yangzhou became public knowledge, even if Zhu Yuanzhang sliced him into a thousand pieces, no one would accuse him of wrongdoing.
As for tricking him into surrendering…
As long as Zhu Yuanzhang’s skin was thick enough, the scholars under his command could handle the rest with their brushes.
Dealing with Zhang Mingjian himself required little discussion.
What truly troubled them was how to restore Yangzhou’s role as the Grand Canal’s transportation center after it had become a city of the dead.
Zhu Yuanzhang had many capable generals but very few civilian officials able to govern an entire region.
Li Shanchang and the others who had joined Zhu Yuanzhang earliest had mostly been low-ranking clerks, and nearly all came from western Huai.
Asking them to revive a once-prosperous southern metropolis…
At least for now, even Li Shanchang couldn’t accomplish that.
Should they entrust the task to the Jiangnan scholars who had only recently joined them?
Zhu Yuanzhang was extremely reluctant.
The scholars of Jiangnan had always looked down on Zhu Yuanzhang and the Red Turban Army.
While the Central Plains rebelled against the Yuan, the gentry of Jiangnan had remained fiercely loyal to the Yuan Dynasty, organizing local militias to massacre Red Turban forces.
Now that the Han Song armies had reached the north and even many Mongols were raising anti-Yuan banners, the Jiangnan gentry still considered themselves loyal subjects of the Great Yuan and sneered at the rebels.
Only after Zhu Yuanzhang, Zhang Shicheng, Xu Shouhui, and the other warlords had smashed the Jiangnan gentry into submission did they finally decide that “a wise bird chooses the best tree to perch in, and a worthy minister chooses the best lord to serve,” and began looking for new masters.
Even then, they did not choose Zhu Yuanzhang.
They looked down on “Beggar Zhu” and “Monk Zhu.”
He couldn’t invite them successfully, and even when he conscripted them, they resigned.
Take, for example, the four famous scholars of eastern Zhejiang so glorified by later generations—Liu Ji, Song Lian, Ye Chen, and Zhang Yi.
Only after Zhu Yuanzhang had occupied most of Zhejiang did they finally begin to panic.
Historically, it wasn’t until the following year, after Li Shanchang repeatedly and strongly recommended the “Four Scholars of Eastern Zhejiang,” that Zhu Yuanzhang finally summoned them.
Even after entering his service, they remained reserved and reluctant, as though they had accepted Zhu Yuanzhang only while pinching their noses.
That was why, after founding the dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang sarcastically granted Liu Ji—the most accomplished among the Jiangnan scholars—the title of Earl of Sincerity.
In later television dramas, Jiangnan scholars were often portrayed as loyal ministers, while Huaixi scholars became the villains.
Unofficial histories also loved embellishing the fierce struggles between the “Huaixi faction” and the “Jiangnan faction” during the early Ming.
In reality, during the early Ming, Jiangnan scholars had barely even entered the Emperor’s field of vision.
They simply weren’t qualified to compare with the Huaixi scholars.
Even after Emperor Hongwu executed much of his court, he never considered filling the vacancies with Jiangnan gentry.
Instead, the Jiangnan gentry gathered around Zhu Biao, hoping to influence the future through the Crown Prince.
After Crown Prince Zhu Biao died, most of them transferred their allegiance to Crown Prince’s Grandson Zhu Yunwen.
Then Zhu Di slaughtered them wholesale, and they once again faded into obscurity.
Only during the middle Ming period did they gradually come to dominate the court.
The Donglin faction eventually became the representative of the Jiangnan gentry.
Once they gained control over public discourse, countless unofficial histories and novels elevated Liu Bowen into the greatest contributor to the Ming founding, even creating legends such as his cutting of dragon veins, turning him into an earthly immortal.
Even Liu Bowen’s title of Earl of Sincerity was blamed on Li Shanchang and other supposed villains.
In reality, Li Shanchang had been Liu Bowen’s patron.
Zhu Yuanzhang knew perfectly well that the scholars of Jiangnan were exceptionally learned.
When he eventually became Emperor and governed the empire, he would certainly need their support.
But at least for now, his stubborn streak had flared up.
He simply didn’t want anything to do with them.
Just seeing those arrogant Jiangnan scholars, each waiting for him to pay them three personal visits like Liu Bei visiting Zhuge Liang, made him feel sick.
So the meeting temporarily set the issue aside.
They would capture Yangzhou first and worry about everything else later.
After everyone else left, Li Shanchang remained behind and once again privately urged Zhu Yuanzhang to make use of the Jiangnan scholars.
Zhu Yuanzhang looked thoroughly aggrieved.
Li Shanchang said, “Marshal, at the very least, summon the Four Scholars of Eastern Zhejiang. Every one of them possesses talent comparable to Zhuge Liang.”
Mumbling unhappily, Zhu Yuanzhang replied, “Teacher is the real Zhuge Liang reborn.”
Li Shanchang laughed helplessly.
“I know exactly how capable I am. If you called me another Xiao He, I could shamelessly accept it. But another Zhuge Liang? Certainly not. Master Zhu may indeed be another Zhuge Liang, but he’s already advanced in years. He can only help the Marshal formulate grand strategy. For the finer details of campaigns and sieges, you still need additional advisers by your side.”
Zhu Yuanzhang looked up at the sky and began whistling, clearly trying to evade the topic.
Li Shanchang had followed Zhu Yuanzhang from the very beginning and was also his close friend in private.
Seeing Zhu Yuanzhang acting like a rogue, he refused to back down.
Patiently, he continued, “Marshal, you are destined to become Emperor. The Jiangnan gentry are destined to become your subjects. Sooner or later, you’ll have to use them. Right now is precisely the time you need them. You can’t throw away the whole meal because you choked on one bite.”
Zhu Yuanzhang still refused.
“Haven’t we been developing just fine without them? Didn’t you once say we needed the local gentry to revive Yingtian? But look at us now—we’ve managed quite well.”
Li Shanchang smiled.
“That’s true enough. But the one who revived Yingtian’s economy for Marshal Zhu was Chen Guorui. What? Does Marshal Zhu intend to stop campaigning and spend the next while pretending to be Chen Guorui?”
Among all the civilian officials, Li Shanchang was the only one who knew that Chen Guorui was actually Zhu Yuanzhang.
Zhu Yuanzhang’s face flushed red with embarrassment and irritation.
“My Chen Guorui only manages because Biao’er is directing everything behind the scenes! I might as well send Biao’er to Yangzhou himself!”
I just don’t want anything to do with those Jiangnan scholars! I don’t!
Li Shanchang: “…”
Young Master Biao might be a heavenly child, but he was only five years old.
Marshal, exploiting a child like this was going too far!