Zhu Yuanzhang frowned, sensing the matter wasn’t simple. After wolfing down the remaining half of the steamed bun in two bites, he stood up and said, “Take your food back to your room. I’m going to inspect the Goryeo Barracks personally.”
Zhu Wenzheng: ???
Leaving already? He hadn’t even finished speaking!
Zhu Wenzheng watched his father stride away into the distance, then picked up the two plates from the table and ambled back to the rear courtyard while shaking his head. “Mother, Father has gone to the Goryeo Barracks to gather information. He won’t be back tonight.”
Ma Xiuying acknowledged this and told him to find some other dishes in the kitchen to eat with his steamed buns. There was still some millet porridge left for him. It wasn’t good to eat too much at night, but he shouldn’t just have plain steamed buns either.
“Mother always takes care of me, unlike Father who only thinks about himself,” Zhu Wenzheng grinned foolishly. With his father personally going to the Goryeo Barracks, he didn’t need to worry about the remaining matters. Feeling more relaxed, his hunger intensified, so he scampered off to the kitchen to find something to eat.
Mu Ying and Zhu Wenzhong tiptoed after him—clearly the brothers had some secrets to discuss.
Ma Xiuying still had a sobbing child to care for who had just barely stopped crying enough to catch his breath. She let the three of them go chatter in the kitchen while patiently using a warm towel to wipe the child’s face.
The weather was getting colder, and children’s skin was delicate. Without proper care, their faces could easily get frostbite.
Mu Qing lay slumped over the table, sniffling. Things that fell from the sky were never any good. He thought fleeing hardship was the price for a new life, but it turned out the real cost was yet to come.
If he took the initiative to die, could he die his way back to the modern era?
After trying unsuccessfully for a long time to comfort him, Ma Xiuying could only carry the child to the inner room bed to watch over him. This Chongba was really something—couldn’t he just reason properly with the child? Why resort to waving a knife around?
In the kitchen, Zhu Wenzheng asked between mouthfuls, “What’s wrong with Wenqing? Who bullied him?”
Mu Ying and Zhu Wenzhong answered in unison, “Our father.”
Not only did they explain, they also acted it out. Zhu Wenzhong pretended to be Old Zhu fiercely brandishing a spatula like a broadsword, while Mu Ying played his poor younger brother, recreating the earlier scene for their big brother right then and there.
Zhu Wenzheng: Shocked.jpg
Has Father gone mad?
“And then? And then?” the irresponsible big brother urged.
Zhu Wenzhong put down the spatula. “And then Wenqing got scared and started crying. Mother couldn’t calm him down no matter what. If you hadn’t come back just then, Brother Wenzheng, Mother definitely wouldn’t have let it go.”
Zhu Wenzheng sighed regretfully. “If I’d known, I would’ve come back later.”
The three of them whispered in the kitchen for a long time. By the time they came out, it was already dark.
The little unlucky one wasn’t in his own room—he’d probably fallen asleep directly with their mother. Zhu Wenzheng, exhausted from his busy day, shooed his two younger brothers off to bed before yawning and heading to his own room.
The night passed peacefully. Early the next morning, before the sun had even risen, footsteps could already be heard in the courtyard.
Ma Xiuying poked the listless child. Even when she dressed him and washed his face, he showed no reaction, like a cloth doll—lifting his arms when told, closing his eyes when instructed. His quietness was completely unlike their usual child.
This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good.
After some thought, Ma Xiuying decided to call her eldest son to look after the child.
She needed to go to the Grand Commander’s Mansion today. That place was full of scheming and intrigues—not suitable to bring a little one along. With Chongba not home today and Wenzheng having nothing better to do anyway, it was perfect to have him come up with some ideas.
Zhu Wenzheng: …
Is this really okay?
Zhu Wenzheng didn’t think it would work. He wasn’t some attentive good older brother—if even Mother couldn’t comfort the child, how could he possibly manage?
Mu Qing gazed listlessly at his flustered, foolish older brother and let out another sigh of utter despair.
He was a little unlucky one, and poor Wenzheng was a big unlucky one. When two unlucky ones came together, it was nothing but misfortune piled upon misfortune.
At a time like this, what was the point of coaxing a child? Burying their heads and weeping bitterly would suit them best.
Zhu Wenzheng felt baffled by his younger brother’s stare. The task had already been assigned to him, and there was no way to shirk it. He could only squat beside the child and sigh along with him. “Wenqing, come on, give your brother a smile.”
Mu Qing slowly turned his head and obediently gave him a smile.
Zhu Wenzheng gasped sharply, patting his chest to comfort his startled self. “Never mind, you’d better not smile.”
The little unlucky one withdrew his “terrifying” smile and squatted by the doorstep, continuing to pretend he was a poisonous mushroom.
If no one disturbed him, he would quietly dwell in the deep mountains and ancient forests, feeding on wind and dew. If someone came to pluck and eat him, they would perish together and journey to the underworld.
Ah, why couldn’t he just be a mushroom?
Ma Xiuying had taken her maidservant and gone out. Apart from the guards stationed outside, only a few servants doing rough work remained at home, and they were all busy outside at the moment.
Zhu Wenzheng was not one to stay still for long. He could manage being a mushroom for a little while, but any longer and he’d feel as if needles were pricking his backside, unable to sit still. “Wenqing, do you want to know what your brother did yesterday?”
The little unlucky one wasn’t particularly interested, but he didn’t want to dampen his foolish brother’s enthusiasm too much, so he nodded to show he was listening.
Zhu Wenzheng hadn’t gotten it all off his chest yesterday. Since there were no outsiders in the courtyard, he didn’t care whether his younger brother could understand or not, and he started venting about how the Goryeo people were all big fools.
Mu Qing curled his lip imperceptibly. In his opinion, his future god-of-war brother was currently quite the fool himself.
He had researched a lot of materials for his videos and could roughly guess why the Goryeo generals were taking the initiative to show goodwill.
Old Zhu was a founding emperor. Even though the Great Ming was still nowhere in sight and he wasn’t particularly prominent among the many rebel forces across the land, it was undeniable that their father possessed extraordinary abilities.
The Goryeo Army responding to the court’s call to quell the unrest in the Central Plains was composed of two groups: one consisted of elite troops from Goryeo itself, and the other was made up of Goryeo people who originally lived in Dadu.
Goryeo was a special administrative region under Yuan dynasty rule, known as Zhengdong Province. Though called a vassal state, its relationship with the Yuan was closer than that of ordinary vassal states.
Other vassal states only needed to pay tribute on time, but Goryeo not only had to offer tribute—its king also had to serve as a guard for the Golden Family in Dadu during his youth. And that wasn’t all. When the king came of age, he had to marry a princess of the Golden Family to become his queen, and only then could he return to Goryeo to inherit the throne.
The relationship between the Goryeo people and the Mongols was unusually close. Their queens were princesses of the Golden Family, and the Great Yuan emperor’s harem also included many Goryeo tribute women. Every year, when the Golden Family held the Zha Ma Banquet, also known as the Zhisun Banquet, the Goryeo hostages serving as guards by the emperor’s side were allowed to sit in the front row.
The Yuan dynasty’s social hierarchy was strictly defined, and this privilege of sitting in the front row greatly satisfied the vanity of the Goryeo people. As a result, many Goryeo people considered Dadu their true home, while Goryeo was just some backwater—not worth going back to.
This sentiment wasn’t limited to ordinary Goryeo civilians; even the kings of Goryeo were reluctant to return to Goryeo to assume the throne.
There was once a Goryeo king who became infatuated with the prosperity of Dadu, treating Goryeo merely as a fiefdom requiring routine administration. After ascending the throne, he continued residing in Dadu, unwilling to return to Goryeo. When pressed to the brink, he even abdicated the throne just to remain in Dadu.
Mu Qing rubbed his face and shifted positions. He had to admit, when he first read these records, he was genuinely stunned by that Goryeo king’s actions.
But upon further reflection about Goryeo’s poverty, it seemed somewhat understandable why the king acted that way.
In short, for the Goryeo people, the most coveted place was the bustling Yuan Dadu.
Under Yuan dynasty rule, the Goryeo people strongly identified with Mongol governance. They adopted Mongol living habits, Mongol clothing styles, and every aspect of Mongol culture.
Those Goryeo people who had stayed long in Mongolia would feel quite unaccustomed upon returning to Goryeo, especially the Goryeo hostages who grew up in Dadu since childhood – they appeared more Mongol than Goryeo.
This was clearly not a good development. If this continued, Goryeo would soon be completely incorporated into Yuan territory.
The current Goryeo king was quite young, a lad in his twenties who only returned to Goryeo to become king in the eleventh year of Zheng. He appeared no different from those Goryeo hostages raised in Yuan Dadu, with habits and attire more resembling Mongols.
He wore Mongol braids, Mongol felt hats, and tight-waisted pleated robes.
Like many others in the Goryeo royal palace.
The Yuan imperial palace employed many Goryeo maids and eunuchs, while Dadu hosted countless Goryeo scholars, Goryeo monks, Goryeo merchants, and specially prepared Goryeo tribute women for the emperor and nobility.
Decades of gradual influence showed clear effects – even native Goryeo people had grown accustomed to wearing Mongol braids, felt hats, and tight-waisted pleated robes.
The Mongols were nomadic people, born horsemen whose clothing suited riding and archery. The Goryeo found Mongol robes convenient and would change into more practical garments when practicing equestrian archery.
Mu Qing thought this resembled King Wuling of Zhao’s adoption of barbarian clothing for cavalry, though some Goryeo people considered it Mongol aggression tactics.
Well, whatever made them happy.
The young Goryeo king was ambitious. His hostage life in Dadu didn’t differ from previous kings, but he possessed one crucial quality – clarity. He didn’t want Goryeo to become merely another province of Great Yuan.
He returned to Goryeo for his enthronement in the eleventh year of Zheng, the same year central regions under Yuan rule witnessed “the stone man with one eye, stirring the Yellow River to rebel across the land.”
The vast Mongol Empire wasn’t what it used to be – Mongol rule was declining like the setting sun. He saw the chaos in central plains and recognized Goryeo’s opportunity to break free from Mongol interference.
With considerable pro-Yuan factions in Goryeo, he wouldn’t reveal too much before the Great Yuan dynasty completely collapsed. The Goryeo Army dispatched to suppress rebellions in central plains likely represented the king’s vanguard for deeper understanding of the situation.
Knowing both yourself and your enemy ensures victory in every battle. While Mongols couldn’t quell central plain rebellions, conquering Goryeo remained effortless for them.
Hmm, quite self-aware.
Zhu Wenzheng continued slapping his thigh, lamenting how foolish all Goryeo people were, completely unaware that his younger brother regarded him with similarly foolish eyes.
Pies don’t fall from the sky. The Goryeo people aren’t foolish simpletons who can’t keep their mouths shut—they’ve realized the Yuan dynasty has lost control of the Central Plains. Once Tuotuo dies, the colossal entity that has oppressed them for years will come crashing down.
Were they naively leaking information? No, they were deliberately muddying the waters!
Mu Qing shifted his numb legs, stood up, and pulled his future war-god brother along to study.
No matter how bitter life gets, children’s education must not suffer; no matter how impoverished, schooling must not be neglected. To help the poor unfortunate soul evade his predetermined fate, more studying certainly couldn’t hurt.
Meanwhile, outside the Goryeo Barracks, Zhu Yuanzhang and Tang He were leading the villagers back home, cursing loudly as they marched. “I knew it wasn’t that simple! The Goryeo folks aren’t fools—Wenzheng is the biggest idiot under heaven!”
What nonsense about drinking too much and treating them like family? It was clearly because they saw Tuotuo’s inevitable death and wanted the Central Plains rebels to seize the opportunity to counterattack.
What, did those Goryeo people think they could wait until both Han Chinese and Mongols were weakened and then swoop in to profit from the conflict?
Such a tiny place with such grand ambitions—they’d better be careful not to choke on their greed!