After dinner, Zhu Yuanzhang sent the three children off to rest.
Ma Xiuying tidied the room, lit the oil lamp, made the bed, then took out her sewing basket and sat by the bedside. As she worked, she chided, “What did you say to Wenqing today? The child is young and easily frightened. After he came back, he was like a little mute, not daring to make a sound.”
Zhu Yuanzhang wore a serious expression. “My dear, what I’m about to say next—please don’t be scared.”
Ma Xiuying deftly threaded her needle, giving him a puzzled look. “What is it?”
Old Zhu brought a stool and sat before her. Worried she might accidentally hurt herself from shock later, he asked her to set aside her needlework first. Then, mysteriously, he said, “I witnessed a divine manifestation today.”
Ma Xiuying’s expression was indescribable. “Chongba, I’m being serious with you.”
Zhu Yuanzhang wore a “knew you wouldn’t believe me” expression. Pulling his stool closer, he gestured while speaking. “I am being serious. This morning, when Wenqing came to call me back for breakfast, as soon as he entered the Council Hall, strange phenomena suddenly descended from the sky. It scared me half to death.”
Seeing how earnest he seemed, Ma Xiuying asked half-believingly, “Really?”
Old Zhu slapped his thigh. “How could I lie about something so important?”
He and Li Shanchang had discussed it all day, finally making sense of the information revealed by the light screen. If this Divine Manifestation was truly visible only to them, they’d hit the jackpot.
Thinking back on his turbulent life over the past twenty-plus years, Zhu Yuanzhang never imagined he’d see the day when his fortunes turned. It was impossible not to feel excited.
Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes sparkled as he recounted the morning’s events. By the time he finished his animated storytelling, Ma Xiuying was stunned. “Do divine manifestations… truly exist in this world?”
Old Zhu chuckled. “We’re not sure yet. It depends on whether things in Gaoyou unfold exactly as the heavenly voice said.”
Ma Xiuying took a deep breath, her heart pounding. It took her a while to calm down.
Zhu Yuanzhang moved the sewing basket away, put his arm around his wife, and helped her lie down. “This matter came suddenly. I only forbade Wenqing from speaking about it because I feared leaks could bring disaster. Old Tang and Old Xu can be reasoned with, but our little one is still too young to understand explanations. So I told him the divine beings are shy and dislike being seen by too many people. If he talks about it, they’ll get angry. I told him not to speak carelessly after coming out.”
Ma Xiuying sighed helplessly. “Well, now the child won’t say a single word. What do we do?”
Zhu Yuanzhang yawned and waved his hand to reassure her. “Children forget easily. Maybe after a night’s sleep, he’ll have forgotten all about it.”
Ma Xiuying sighed softly. Since things had come to this, she could only hope so. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Wenqing. I’ll make sure he doesn’t speak about it.”
Old Zhu closed his eyes, his voice growing fainter. “With you watching over the child, I couldn’t be more at ease.”
As soon as he finished speaking, snores emerged.
Ma Xiuying: ???
How can you sleep after such a momentous event during the day?
Ma Xiuying stared sternly at the already sleeping man. Lying awake in bed, her thoughts grew more tangled the more she pondered, so she simply stopped thinking. She blew out the lamp, pulled up the covers, and went to sleep.
The one who should be anxious isn’t anxious, so she, who shouldn’t be, wouldn’t worry unnecessarily.
However, women’s hearts are delicate. Though Ma Xiuying said she wouldn’t worry, she ultimately couldn’t set her mind at ease. Tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, she had to shake the already sleeping Old Zhu awake. “Chongba, do divine beings truly exist in this world?”
Zhu Yuanzhang mumbled drowsily, “Divine beings? What divine beings? There are no divine beings in this world! It’s all deception!”
Ma Xiuying was furious. “Zhu Chongba!”
Zhu Yuanzhang jolted awake in fright and quickly sat up to calm his wife. “My dear, my dear, anger isn’t good for the baby. Don’t harm your health. Let’s talk properly.”
Ma Xiuying tried hard to compose herself. Her mind had been full of the divine manifestation, but then Old Zhu went and said, “There are no divine beings in this world.” That wretched man—not a single truthful word came from his mouth. Which one was she supposed to believe?
Old Zhu wiped his face to clear his head. With no outsiders in the room and his wife angry, he didn’t dare play any tricks. “My dear, that light screen and heavenly voice appeared suddenly. But after a day of discussion with Old Li, we both feel this ‘divine method’ doesn’t seem like something divine beings would create.”
Listening to his incoherent explanation, Ma Xiuying was too tired to be angry anymore. “Go to sleep. We have things to do tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late and delay important matters.”
What did he mean, “divine method doesn’t seem like something divine beings would create”?
If it’s called a divine method, who else could have created it besides divine beings?
Zhu Yuanzhang scratched his head. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he just felt it didn’t seem like there were divine beings hiding behind it.
Ma Xiuying sighed silently. Thinking about their current internal and external troubles gave her a headache.
A few days ago, their Chongba repelled the government troops. His adoptive father was so overjoyed he even wanted to proclaim himself Chuyang Prince. If Chongba hadn’t returned and persuaded him otherwise, there would be more than just those Goryeo people camped outside Chuzhou now.
The court’s intention was clear: whoever dares to claim the title of prince will be suppressed.
It’s true that Chuzhou, surrounded by mountains, is easy to defend and hard to attack. But “easy to defend and hard to attack” also means it’s inconvenient to go anywhere. No proper land routes, no proper waterways—how can that be sustainable long-term?
Tuotuo’s million-strong army is camped outside Gaoyou City. If he proclaimed himself prince in Chuzhou, he’d undoubtedly attract ten times the number of government troops. Then Chuzhou would truly be finished.
She knew her adoptive father’s temperament well. He would listen to Chongba’s advice, but if someone around him stirred trouble, he’d immediately think Chongba had grown arrogant and no longer respected him, deliberately preventing him from becoming prince and gaining prestige.
Relying solely on Chongba’s persuasion wasn’t enough; she needed to pay a visit to her adoptive father’s home.
He might listen to others, but he couldn’t ignore his wife’s words.
Compared to her explosive adoptive father, her adoptive mother was much more reasonable.
While the couple talked in their room, the three children weren’t sleeping obediently either.
Old Zhu had acquired a sufficiently large house for his wife and children, so they didn’t have to squeeze into one room. Each child had their own room.
But today was special. Mu Qing hadn’t spoken at all, and both older brothers were extremely worried. After dinner, they gathered in their little brother’s room.
Zhu Wenzhong was four or five years older than Mu Ying. He should have been training alongside Zhu Wenzheng under Zhu Yuanzhang. Unfortunately, his health had deteriorated too severely while fleeing with his father, and he needed more recuperation before he could become a proper soldier.
When others fled, it was the father pulling the child along. In their family, it was the child pulling the father. Truly unmatched.
The night was deep, the stars like brocade.
In the room, a lone lamp flickered like a bean, its flame wavering. Combined with two gesticulating shadows, it resembled a horror scene.
Zhu Wenzhong pinched their little brother’s cheek. “Wenqing, call me ‘brother.'”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes at him, wrapped himself in the quilt, and rolled to the innermost part of the bed, ignoring the annoying brother disturbing his peace at night.
Mu Ying skillfully unrolled the quilt bundle, dug out the hiding younger brother, and looked at him expectantly. “Wenqing, call me ‘brother.Mu Qing: (ーー゛)
No way.
Zhu Wenzhong looked at the completely unresponsive child in alarm. “Wenying, has our brother really become mute?”
“Surely not, surely not.” Mu Ying quickly shook his head. He knew how stubborn his brother could be. Seeing he was determined not to speak, he pushed Zhu Wenzhong out. “Brother Wenzhong, let’s go back to sleep.” Tomorrow morning, Wenqing will talk to us.”
Mu Qing wrapped himself into a chicken roll again. Hearing his brother’s words, he curled his lip without comment.
Hah, he was a child who could legitimately sleep in. They wouldn’t see him tomorrow morning at all.
Mu Ying and Zhu Wenzhong returned to their respective rooms, leaving the little one to roll around on the bed by himself. Until the moon reached its zenith, he still couldn’t sleep.
He couldn’t understand—how could the video he made跨越时空 and follow him here?
There were plenty of high-quality videos on Bilibili. If it had been any other UP’s edited video, he wouldn’t be so terrified now.
He hadn’t intended to seek great wealth and honor following Old Zhu, nor did he want his butterfly wings to stir up major waves. Self-awareness was a good thing. He couldn’t carry heavy loads, wasn’t skilled with his hands, couldn’t even outrun fellow refugees when fleeing. The scenario of “tiger body shaking, all directions submit” could only happen in dreams.
Before that damned video appeared, he only wanted to preserve his current stable life.
He wasn’t a real child. He had knowledge of the next ten to twenty years of major trends in the empire. Leaving other things aside, once Zhu Yuanzhang captured Jiqing Road and renamed it Yingtian, staying in Yingtian would allow for a relatively stable life.
Old Zhu was someone who cherished old sentiments. Based on their years of father-son bond, even if he didn’t dare fight on the battlefield, he wouldn’t be driven from home.
But now, if he didn’t start “rolling” (working hard), and later accidentally exposed his identity, Old Zhu would execute him without hesitation—kacha, one slash, and he’d be gone.
The problem was, he only had so much capability. Even if he “rolled,” he couldn’t surpass the people around Old Zhu.
The civil officials and military generals around a founding emperor were no simple figures—each one was top-tier. What could he use to compete with them?
So hard. Living was truly too hard, wuwuwuwuwuwuwu.
The little unlucky egg, tears in his eyes, eventually succumbed to sleepiness and fell asleep.
Early the next morning, Mu Ying and Zhu Wenzhong came together, peeking in. Seeing their little brother sleeping like a pig, they exchanged glances outside the window and quickly agreed not to disturb him.
The child was sleeping so soundly; surely by the time they returned in the afternoon, he’d be back to the sweet little bean they knew.
The two brothers, reassured, went out together, discussing on the way how to make the disobedient little one pay for yesterday’s “cold indifference.””
How could a younger brother not speak to his older brothers? Was that acceptable?
However, things weren’t as simple as they thought. The little unlucky egg was determined not to speak. No one could do anything about it.
Old Zhu went out early to work. The two brothers went to their lessons. Only Ma Xiuying stayed home with the child. The little one remained quiet all day, making her too unsettled to even cook peacefully.
It was good for a child to be cautious and not speak to outsiders, but he shouldn’t stop talking at home too. She wasn’t an outsider—she was his mother!
The little one had just started enlightenment not long ago and only knew a few characters. Since morning, he’d been following her around with his wooden board and pencil, but she could barely recognize any of the characters he wrote. Communicating was too difficult. This wouldn’t do.
In the evening, Ma Xiuying scolded Old Zhu at the dinner table. It was fine if the child didn’t speak for a day or two, but if he never spoke again and really became mute when he grew up, what would they do?
Zhu Yuanzhang rubbed his chin, put down his bowl and chopsticks, picked up the silent child, and first examined him against the setting sun (who knows what he was looking for). Then he took out his dagger and poked the little one’s belly. “Wenqing, come on, give your mother a ‘squeak.'”
Mu Qing, held in his father’s hand, looked down at the sharp blade pressed against his stomach, curled his lip expressionlessly.
“Squeak—”