Chen Biao put on a stern face.
“Xiao Shuang…”
Chen Shuang, who had already been beaten once, immediately dropped to his knees with a loud thump, kneeling with remarkable decisiveness.
Madam Ma’s mouth twitched.
When she’d been spanking Chen Shuang earlier, he’d worn the exact same shameless expression Zhu Yuanzhang always did whenever he tried to wheedle his way out of trouble.
So how was it that the moment Biao’er frowned, her second son became this obedient?
Madam Ma felt rather conflicted.
Not because she thought, I’m the mother, where’s my authority?
It was guilt.
Zhu Yuanzhang had a fiery temper. Madam Ma never trusted him to manage things alone, so she personally oversaw the army’s logistics and always pulled him back whenever his stubbornness led him astray.
She understood one thing very clearly.
With the realm still unsettled, how could there be a peaceful home?
As long as the world remained in chaos, her family and her children could never enjoy a stable life.
So for the sake of the greater family, she had no choice but to neglect her own small one, leaving her children to grow up somewhere safe under someone else’s care.
The reason she couldn’t discipline Chen Shuang well wasn’t because he was naturally unruly.
It was because she had never been able to stay by his side.
Her image as a mother was simply too faint in his heart.
Fortunately…
She still had Biao’er.
Madam Ma looked at Chen Biao with eyes full of tenderness and guilt.
Even if Chen Biao was an immortal child, he was still only a child. Yet she had no choice but to place the burden of raising the younger children on his shoulders, forcing him to act as both father and mother, and even as a teacher to his younger brothers.
Chen Biao’s own mouth twitched slightly when he saw how readily his little brother had knelt.
How had this brat become such a little rascal at such a young age?
Who on earth did he take after?
My dad is an honest man.
My mom is a kind woman.
As for me…
Needless to say, I’m perfect.
Could this be some kind of genetic mutation?
Chen Biao couldn’t help worrying. Chen Shuang was already like this as a toddler. What would he become after growing up?
Was the saying “you can tell a person at three what they’ll be at eighty” really true?
Pressing a hand to his temple, Chen Biao said,
“You’re still young. If you make a mistake, then as your older brother, at least half the blame belongs to me. I’ll write a self-criticism, and you’ll memorize it. Until you’ve memorized it, neither of us gets any snacks. Deal?”
Chen Shuang sat on his knees with both little hands resting obediently on them, looking like a tiny dumpling.
“Big Brother… I was wrong. Punish me. Don’t punish yourself.”
Chen Biao rubbed his little brother’s head.
“I already told you. I’m your older brother. I’ve been teaching you ever since you were little. If the younger brother isn’t taught well, it’s the elder brother’s fault. You deserve punishment, but mine shouldn’t be any lighter.”
“All right, get up. We’ll deal with the self-criticism later.”
“Let’s accompany Mother for a walk. It’s nice and cool today. We’ll have a picnic by the bamboo grove.”
Chen Biao tugged on Chen Shuang.
He couldn’t move him.
Seeing his brother stagger slightly, Chen Shuang hurriedly stood up and caught him.
Chen Biao: “…”
“You don’t actually have to help me.”
Watching Chen Shuang instantly become obedient again, his face full of remorse, Madam Ma fell into thought.
Perhaps…
Could she use Biao’er’s method on Chongba as well?
After all, judging by appearances, Shuang’er was simply a miniature Chongba.
Madam Ma silently resolved to give it a try someday.
Chen Biao was still too young.
If he tried holding Madam Ma’s hand, it only ended up with her taking care of him instead.
So he instructed one of the sturdy maidservants to look after Madam Ma, while Madam Ma pushed the small baby carriage carrying Chen Gang, who knew nothing except eating and sleeping.
Meanwhile, Chen Biao held Chen Shuang’s hand as they walked toward the bamboo grove behind the house.
The stone-paved path was rather uneven.
The baby carriage bumped gently along, rocking Chen Gang back and forth.
With his eyes closed, he didn’t move at all, sleeping like a little piglet.
Every few steps, Chen Shuang leaned over to peek at his younger brother.
Then he’d tell Chen Biao that their little brother looked like a piglet.
A few more steps…
Another peek.
Another accusation that his brother was a little piglet.
Chen Biao sighed helplessly.
“Sleeping more helps you grow taller. You could sleep more too.”
Chen Shuang hugged Chen Biao’s arm.
“No. I want to play with Big Brother.”
Chen Biao sighed again.
Honestly, he’d much rather Chen Shuang spent more time sleeping instead of pestering him until his head hurt.
Madam Ma chuckled.
“He really does look like a little piglet.”
You’re all little Zhus.
Chen Biao glanced at her.
“Mother, don’t spoil Xiao Shuang too much. His mouth is already this sharp. What’ll happen when he grows up?”
Chen Shuang clung to his brother’s arm, rubbing against him until Chen Biao staggered from side to side, walking in a zigzag.
“I’m not mean. I’m not mean to Big Brother.”
This time Madam Ma couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into laughter.
When they reached the bamboo grove, they discovered Zhu Wenzheng and Zhu Wenzhong digging for bamboo shoots.
The main laborer was Zhu Wenzheng.
Zhu Wenzhong stood nearby acting as lookout.
The moment Zhu Wenzhong spotted Madam Ma and the others approaching, he froze before shouting,
“Wenzheng! Run!”
Zhu Wenzheng nearly buried his hoe in his own foot.
Chen Biao was speechless.
“What are you two doing?”
Zhu Wenzhong answered honestly,
“Stealing bamboo shoots.”
Zhu Wenzheng immediately argued,
“Digging bamboo shoots from Uncle’s place isn’t stealing!”
Chen Biao became even more speechless.
“If you wanted bamboo shoots, you could’ve just asked me. Why did you have to come and… steal… I mean, dig them?”
Zhu Wenzheng replied,
“Because Uncle said stolen food always tastes the best, so I wanted to try it.”
A huge question mark practically appeared above Chen Biao’s head.
What exactly had my dad been teaching his nephews?
If Uncle knew in the afterlife, he’d probably climb into Father’s dreams and beat him to death!
Chen Biao looked up at Madam Ma.
“Mother…”
Madam Ma could no longer maintain her composure.
“Just watch how I deal with him.”
Zhu Wenzhong sighed dramatically.
“Oh no. Wenzheng, you’re doomed.”
Whoever made Uncle suffer…
Uncle would make that person suffer in return.
Zhu Wenzheng immediately surrendered.
“Auntie, I was wrong!”
Madam Ma smiled gently.
“You weren’t wrong. Even if you were, the one who taught you—Guorui—is at least half responsible.”
Chen Biao had the strange urge to clean out his ears.
Why did that sound so familiar?
Must be my imagination.
He hurriedly smoothed things over.
“Forget it. Since you’ve already dug them up, let’s cook together.”
“You’ve all marched with the army before, so you know how to build a cooking stove.”
The instant he heard Chen Biao was making something delicious, Zhu Wenzheng’s mouth immediately filled with saliva.
Any thoughts about his uncle possibly getting into trouble—and himself getting dragged into it as well—vanished completely.
As the scholars said:
Drink while the wine is here today.
Tomorrow’s worries can wait until tomorrow.
Watching his sworn brother, Zhu Wenzhong felt utterly exhausted.
He sometimes suspected all of Zhu Wenzheng’s intelligence had gone into military talent.
Every other aspect of him was simply… foolish.
He genuinely worried his sworn brother would someday be tricked terribly.
But with Uncle and Biao’er looking after him…
He probably wouldn’t come to too much harm.
“Wenzhong!”
“What are you standing around for? Hurry over and help me move these stones! Otherwise you don’t get any!”
Zhu Wenzhong sighed.
“All right.”
While Zhu Wenzheng and Zhu Wenzhong built the cooking stove, Chen Biao had someone bring over yellow clay that had already been boiled in water to sterilize it.
Today’s dish was going to be Beggar’s Chicken.
At this point, Zhu Yuanzhang had not yet become Emperor, and the world did not yet know the dish called Beggar’s Chicken.
However, Chen Biao’s father had once told him about stealing chickens in his youth and wrapping them in clay before roasting them.
Chen Guorui had said that although meat itself was delicious, that particular method made an awful chicken, and Chen Biao absolutely shouldn’t try it.
When he said “the meat was delicious,” he meant that simply having meat to eat was delicious.
As for that clay-roasted chicken…
Zhu Yuanzhang, pretending to be Chen Guorui, believed that his precious Biao’er wouldn’t merely refuse to eat it.
The smell alone would probably make him vomit.
The authentic version of Beggar’s Chicken involved wringing a live chicken’s neck and, without plucking feathers or cleaning it at all, wrapping the entire bird in clay before burying it beneath hot coals.
When it was done, cracking open the hardened clay peeled away the feathers and skin all at once, leaving the meat inside ready to eat.
The natural minerals in the earth even gave it a salty flavor, so there was no need to add salt.
Just looking at the authentic cooking method made it obvious the finished chicken would be overwhelmingly gamey, and bits of dirt would inevitably cling to the meat.
Back when Zhu Yuanzhang was still a beggar, he cooked chickens that way only to trap the aroma inside the clay so no one would notice.
If he’d roasted a chicken openly, the fragrance would have drifted for miles.
Beggar Zhu would immediately have had people tracking him down and breaking his legs.
Chen Biao had once asked his father,
“If I use the Marshal’s story as a gimmick to create a dish called Beggar’s Chicken, and we split half the profits with the Marshal as his private spending money, do you think he’d cut off our heads?”
Patting his chest confidently, Zhu Yuanzhang had replied,
“Absolutely not! The Marshal would be delighted. Trust me!”
Chen Biao wasn’t entirely convinced.
Still, he intended to perfect the recipe first.
If Marshal Zhu refused to allow it, he’d simply rename it Chen Family Merchant Chicken, claiming it was a dish General Chen Guorui ate while traveling on business.
Or perhaps he’d borrow the name of whichever uncle had the greatest military achievements and reputation.
As for borrowing Zhu Yuanzhang’s name…
He could live without it.
Chen Biao chose a half-grown young rooster that had already been cleaned, gutted, and marinated for an hour.
He stuffed the cavity with mushrooms, taro, chunks of bamboo shoot, and seasonings.
Then he brushed the outside with honey before wrapping it in freshly picked lotus leaves.
Having finished cleaning the study, Zhu Wenying arrived carrying a jar of distilled liquor made from sugar beets.
Together with Chen Shuang, he mixed the liquor into the clay and coated the chicken with the fragrant wine-infused mud.
The moment the aroma of the liquor reached Zhu Wenzheng, who was tending the fire, his eyes immediately lit up.
“Now that’s some proper liquor!”
Zhu Wenzhong stammered, “U-using such fine liquor to make mud? That’s far too wasteful! Won’t it violate military regulations?”
Chen Biao replied, “We brewed it ourselves. We’re not selling it, so it doesn’t violate the military ban. Besides, this liquor is made from sugar beets. Strictly speaking, it doesn’t count as grain.”
Sugar beets had already been widely cultivated throughout Arabia and Persia as early as the twelfth century. Northern China had also introduced them long ago, though they were mainly eaten as vegetables and planted only in small quantities.
It was not until 1747 that a German scientist discovered sucrose in sugar beets and began producing sugar from them.
Sugar was a luxury in ancient times.
The high-yield sugarcane varieties of later generations had not yet appeared, and extracting sugar from the existing cane was inefficient. Moreover, sugarcane was a cash crop. During times of war and chaos, devoting farmland to sugarcane instead of grain was obviously impractical.
Every part of the sugar beet was edible, making it a valuable food crop in troubled times. With his clever mind, Chen Biao had naturally started growing sugar beets on the Chen family’s estate long ago, selectively breeding varieties with higher sugar content so that sugar could be extracted from beet roots centuries ahead of schedule.
After making sugar, he fermented the leftover beet pulp into liquor.
The liquor itself was terrible—low in alcohol and poor in flavor. But in this day and age, once the ban on selling alcohol was lifted, Chen Biao could easily market liquor brewed from sugar beet residue as a luxury product.
When it came to making money with a black heart, Chen Biao was a professional.
Zhu Wenzheng couldn’t have cared less where the liquor came from. His mind worked in only one direction. If his uncle wasn’t concerned, why should he be?
After hearing Chen Biao’s explanation, Zhu Wenzhong finally relaxed.
He sighed in admiration. “Biao, you’re incredible. You can find a use for everything. I only knew dried sugar beet roots could barely stave off hunger. I never imagined they could be turned into liquor.”
Chen Biao reminded them, “That’s right. From now on, remember this—when you’re out campaigning, don’t steal and don’t loot. Keep your hands clean. If you need money, come to me. I’ll give you your dividends.”
Zhu Wenzhong smiled. “Deal.”
Zhu Wenzheng complained, “Biao, every single time I come back, you lecture me about this. I know already, I know.”
Zhu Wenzhong said, “He should keep reminding you. I won’t forget, but you’re the one who’s likely to.”
Zhu Wenzheng glared at him. “What do you mean by that? What do you mean I’m the one who’s likely to forget?”
Zhu Wenzhong replied, “Your memory’s terrible. Biao should keep nagging you.”
Zhu Wenzheng shot back, “Let’s have a contest and see whose memory is worse!”
Zhu Wenzhong rolled his eyes and ignored the brute whose brain, outside of marching and fighting, wasn’t even a tenth the size of his fist.
When Zhu Wenzhong refused to engage, Zhu Wenzheng couldn’t exactly rush over and punch him. All he could do was sulk as he dug a pit for the cooking stove, venting his frustration in vain.
To make matters worse, Chen Biao not only refused to stop talking but actually walked over beside him and continued his endless lecture.
Things like how they had all suffered through war, how they should put themselves in others’ shoes, how they shouldn’t inflict that suffering on innocent people, and that even if the Marshal didn’t care, their own consciences wouldn’t let them… on and on and on.
Without caring that both his hands were covered in dirt, Zhu Wenzheng clamped them over his ears.
“Stop chanting already! Biao! Biao’er! My dear Young Master Biao! Your big brother’s ears are about to grow calluses!”
Laughing, Chen Biao pounced onto his crouching cousin’s back, wrapped both arms around Zhu Wenzheng’s neck, and hung there.
“You think I enjoy nagging you? Dad said you’re too easily carried away when things go well, so he told me to keep reminding you.”
Zhu Wenzhong nodded vigorously.
Chen Biao grinned. “See? Brother Zhong says the same thing.”
Zhu Wenzheng rolled his eyes so hard they nearly disappeared.
Uncle… foster father… Marshal Zhu! You’re absolutely ruthless!
He would rather be scolded by Zhu Yuanzhang than endure Chen Biao’s endless lectures.
Being nagged by such a little kid—didn’t he have any dignity left?
Chen Biao shouted directly into Zhu Wenzheng’s ear, “Cousin! Did you hear me?!”
“I heard you! I heard you! Stop yelling! My ears are ringing!”
Zhu Wenying came to Zhu Wenzheng’s rescue.
“The mud seal is finished. When do we bury them?”
Chen Biao answered, “Let’s light a small fire first.”
They set the mud-coated chickens out under the sun to dry while they built a small fire in the cooking pit. Once the fire burned down, they placed the chickens—whose wine-and-mud coating had already hardened into shells—side by side in the hot ashes, buried them with earth, then built another fire on top.
After the fire was going, Chen Biao had someone bring over the barbecue rack. They grilled skewered fish, vegetables, rice cakes, and sliced steamed buns.
“Let’s fill our stomachs a little first.”
His three older brothers all had astonishing appetites. Those few chickens alone would never be enough to satisfy them.
With good food in front of him, Zhu Wenzheng’s mood immediately improved.
“Where’s Uncle? Isn’t he eating with us?”
Zhu Wenying answered, “Foster Father just left.”
Chen Biao complained, “He’s busy working. Who told him to make such a bold promise before the Marshal, saying he could handle Yangzhou all by himself? He deserves it.”
Everyone who knew the truth—including Madam Ma—bit their lips as hard as they could to keep from laughing.
That’s right, that’s right.
Chen Guorui had boldly guaranteed it before Marshal Zhu. Hahaha…
“Mother, don’t eat too much barbecue. I’ve got chicken soup simmering for you. Later, you can have chicken soup with rice,” Chen Biao reminded her.
Naturally, his version of chicken soup with rice meant tearing all the meat off the chicken first. There was far more chicken than rice, with chopped vegetables and mushrooms mixed in to make sure the expectant mother got plenty of protein and dietary fiber.
Madam Ma smiled and nodded.
“You’d better pack a serving for your father too. Otherwise, when he comes home, he’ll definitely make a fuss.”
Drawing out the word dramatically, Chen Biao replied, “Okaaaay! I’ll even send it over with the clay shell still on it and won’t tell him how to eat it. Xiao Shuang! Stop playing with the mud! Wash your hands and come eat!”
Madam Ma laughed heartily.
“Good. Don’t tell him how to eat it.”
Chen Shuang waved the lump of mud in his hand.
“Don’t tell him! Don’t tell him!”
…
Zhu Yuanzhang sneezed loudly.
“Achoo!”
With a large bamboo basket of books strapped to his back like an examination candidate from the previous dynasty, he let out a thunderous sneeze.
Could it be that Biao’er already misses me the moment I leave? Zhu Yuanzhang thought narcissistically.
Once he stepped out of the house, however, the excitement of believing himself destined by Heaven gradually subsided, and he began pondering the fragments of “the future” that Chen Biao had revealed.
No matter how he thought about it, he simply couldn’t believe he would ever go so far as to restore human sacrifice.
Even though he was a rough, uneducated man, he knew perfectly well how history would curse an emperor who revived such a practice.
His own reputation didn’t matter much. But if it became an ancestral law, how could his kind-hearted Biao’er possibly carry out something so cruel?
Wouldn’t that simply be digging a pit for Biao’er to fall into?
Could the future me have gone mad?
What kind of circumstances would drive me insane? Surely Biao’er and I wouldn’t become bitter enemies?
Could Biao’er rebel against me? But if that happened, couldn’t I simply abdicate the throne?
Biao’er becomes Emperor, I become the Retired Emperor and continue leading armies to expand the empire for him. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
Zhu Yuanzhang frowned deeply, his thoughts a hopeless tangle.
He thought and thought until the muddle in his mind finally began to clear just a little.
But just as he was about to grasp that tiny flash of inspiration, a burst of wild, ear-piercing laughter crashed into his head like a giant iron hammer. The glimmer of insight instantly vanished back into the mental sludge, leaving him even dizzier than before.
Isn’t the street where Biao’er lives supposed to be a military security zone?! Who’s making such a racket?!
Furious, Zhu Yuanzhang stormed around the corner.
There he saw Zhou Dexing sitting on the stone steps outside the Zhou residence, clutching his ears with both hands, his face full of misery.
Meanwhile, Xu Da—the stern commander who never smiled in public—and Tang He—the cautious, honest general who was always gentle before others—were behaving like two lunatics.
The pair danced circles around Zhou Dexing like Mongols celebrating around a bonfire.
“Biao’er invited us—but not you!”
“We got a feast, and you’re left out!”
“Serves you right! Every time you lie, you stammer so badly you nearly expose the Marshal’s real identity!”
“You’re hopeless! Next time you can just keep sniffing over the wall while we eat! Hehehe!”
Zhou Dexing finally exploded.
“That’s enough! I’m going to chop you both to death!”
With their arms around each other’s shoulders, Xu Da and Tang He waggled their eyebrows.
“Then do it! Go ahead! If you don’t, you’re my grandson!”
Driven beyond endurance, Zhou Dexing howled, yanked the broadsword from his waist, and swung it wildly at the two of them.
Zhu Yuanzhang covered his forehead.
So this was what Zhou Dexing had been brooding over during today’s meeting.
Those two old rascals, Xu Da and Tang He, had been tormenting him again.
“Enough already! What’s all this shouting?!”
Still carrying his basket of books, Zhu Yuanzhang rushed over and planted a solid kick squarely into both Xu Da’s and Tang He’s backsides.
With tears in his eyes, Zhou Dexing rushed over.
“Marshal! You have to stand up for me!”
Acting on pure reflex, Zhu Yuanzhang also kicked Zhou Dexing flat onto the ground.
Zhou Dexing: “…”
Xu Da and Tang He brushed the shoe prints off their backsides and burst into laughter.
“We don’t always share our blessings, but we always share our misfortune. That’s what good brothers do! Hahaha!”
Zhou Dexing lay sprawled on the ground, pretending to be dead.
He didn’t want these three brothers anymore.
Feeling somewhat guilty, Zhu Yuanzhang pulled Zhou Dexing back to his feet.
“All right, all right. Go practice some more. Once you’ve improved, I’ll take you to see Biao’er too. Whenever Biao’er sends food over, have I ever failed to save you a share?”
Looking aggrieved, Zhou Dexing muttered, “You always save me some only after you’ve already eaten your fill.”
“At least you still get a taste.”
Zhou Dexing rolled his eyes so hard they nearly turned white.
Just you wait! I’ve hired an opera performer specifically to teach me! I’ll graduate very soon, then I’ll snatch all your food away when we visit Biao’er!
“Marshal, are those more books Biao’er has already read?” Xu Da asked. “As soon as you’re done, let me read them.”
“Me too! Me too!” Tang He chimed in. “Those great Confucian scholars could never teach me anything, but when I read Biao’er’s books, I understand everything right away.”
Brushing the dust off his clothes, Zhou Dexing sighed.
“If only Biao’er could teach my son. That boy of mine has already driven away several tutors.”
Zhu Yuanzhang snorted.
“Isn’t that because you spoil him rotten? Pin him down and whip him a few times. Then see if he still dares chase away his teachers.”
Zhou Dexing shot back, “You talk as if you’d ever hit Biao’er.”
Zhu Yuanzhang grinned proudly.
“That’s because I don’t need to.”
Xu Da changed the subject.
“Speaking of scholars, Boss, I just received word that Zhu Xi’s family is putting on airs again. They promised to send someone, but now they’re claiming illness once more. Looks like we’ll have to show a bit more sincerity.”
Tang He scratched his head.
“I don’t think it’s about sincerity. We’re probably still too weak. Boss, maybe we should wait until we’ve taken more territory and gained that so-called imperial aura before approaching Zhu Xi’s family to establish a shared ancestry.”
Zhu Yuanzhang answered calmly, “No need. We’re not going anymore. I’m just the son of a peasant farmer. There were no famous ancestors in my family.”
Zhou Dexing immediately protested.
“Boss, don’t let your pride get the better of you. Those scholars love making people come calling over and over again. Right now they’re criticizing you behind your back. If you don’t establish kinship with Master Zhu’s family, they’ll keep criticizing you in the future.”
“So let them,” Zhu Yuanzhang replied. “I’m not fighting for the empire for the sake of that bunch of scholars.”
The three men looked at one another.
Xu Da was the first to speak.
“All right, let’s leave them alone for now. Who knows? Once you become Emperor, they might come begging to join you themselves.”
Zhu Yuanzhang said, “Even if they came begging, I’d ignore them. I, Zhu Yuanzhang, clawed my way up from a beggar to become Emperor. Looking through all of history, only Liu Bang can really compare with me. With achievements like mine, why should I acknowledge anyone else as my ancestor? As for those noisy scholars…”
He gave a cold chuckle.
“A flock of cawing crows, all squawking filth from their beaks.
Today I leave them to seek my joy.
Tomorrow morning every one of them will wake with rotten mouths.”
The three men exchanged another glance.
Then someone started applauding, followed by loud laughter from all three.
“Excellent poem! Excellent poem!”
“Boss, incredible! That poem is sure to be remembered for generations!”
“Who needs scholar ancestors? Boss is a great scholar himself!”
Carrying the basket of books on his back, Zhu Yuanzhang strode in front, while Xu Da, Tang He, and Zhou Dexing walked behind him with their arms slung over one another’s shoulders, weaving from side to side.
The sunlight shone diagonally across Zhu Yuanzhang’s face, bathing all four men in a brilliant golden glow.
Viewed from behind, it seemed as though the four of them had merged into the light itself, walking straight toward the rising sun.