Zhu Yuanzhang was no fool. After the emperor’s sudden change of commanders during the Battle of Gaoyou, he had begun incorporating the information revealed by the heavenly voice into his considerations.
While the heavenly voice seemed to disclose much, much of it remained confusing and unclear to them at present.
But among the uncertain messages, one thing was definite: Liu Futong was the “founding emperor of the Great Ming” mentioned by the heavenly voice.
A founding emperor would never hand over a hard-won empire to Han Lin’er, no matter how much Liu Futong valued his bond with Han Shantong.
Han Shantong was dead, and Han Lin’er could only rely on Liu Futong for survival—essentially a puppet child emperor. Even if Han Lin’er was now the Little Prince Ming, he would never become the future Great Ming emperor.
Since Han Lin’er wasn’t the founding emperor of the Great Ming, it could only be Liu Futong.
Mu Qing curled his lips: Right, right, right, everything you say is correct. I hope you won’t be too shocked when you learn the truth in the future.
After Tuotuo was recalled to Dadu by the emperor and exiled to Ejina Circuit, Old Zhu had been keeping tabs on news from the capital. Hama, having stripped his former superior of military power, still wasn’t satisfied and was determined to eliminate Tuotuo. At the beginning of the month, he ordered impeachment accusations, and now Tuotuo was already on his way to exile in Yunnan.
With Tuotuo—the pillar of the court—gone, the second wave of popular uprisings was already brewing.
Various rebel forces watched as the court rose and fell, seizing the opportunity presented by the defeat of the imperial million-strong army to experience a resurgence.
Zhang Shicheng, having withstood a three-month siege by the imperial army at Gaoyou, was exhilarated. Finding Gaoyou too poor to serve as his base, he set his sights directly on the wealthiest region of Southern Jiangsu.
As soon as the government troops dispersed, he immediately sent his brother Zhang Shixin to cross the river from Tongzhou and attack Changshu.
The tables had turned. Previously, Zhang Shicheng wanted to surrender but had no means to do so; now the court wanted to pacify him, but he ignored them. Old Zhang was absolutely gloating.
Then there was Xu Shouhui in the south, who was also enjoying great prestige recently.
When the imperial army was powerful and advancing triumphantly, Peng Yingyu—the founding figure of the southern Red Turban Army—had died in battle. The territories Xu Shouhui had previously captured were largely reclaimed by government forces, and they couldn’t even hold their capital at Qishui, forced to hide in the Dabie Mountains.
But now, with the court’s weaknesses fully exposed, Old Xu was also beginning to rise.
Just a few days after the New Year, before the first lunar month had ended, Chen Youliang, a general under Xu Shouhui, began leading troops to capture cities and territories. Prince Weishun Kuanche Bu Hua, stationed at Wuchang, sailed upstream to suppress them. The outcome of the battle wasn’t yet known, but given the current morale comparison, the Yuan forces had little chance of winning.
While the rebel armies in the central plains were reviving like withered trees blooming again, Fang Guozhen at sea wasn’t idle either. Taking advantage of the court’s military campaigns in the central plains, he came ashore to attack Taizhou and Mingzhou, attempting to establish a foothold on land.
Of course, the most formidable force remained Liu Futong.
That fellow had previously been chased around by government troops, fleeing all the way from Xinyang to Bozhou. Had the court not suffered such a devastating defeat at Gaoyou, he wouldn’t have dared to boldly proclaim Han Lin’er as emperor.
Han Lin’er declared himself emperor, establishing the Great Song dynasty with the era name Longfeng.
Xu Shouhui declared himself emperor, establishing the Great Song dynasty, also known as Tianwan, with the era name Zhiping.
Zhu Yuanzhang leisurely shook his head. “Now there’s Xu Shouhui’s Great Song in the south and Han Lin’er’s Great Song in the north. Who knows which Great Song is the legitimate one?”
“Hey, neither of the two Song dynasties can be considered legitimate.”
Old Zhu amused himself with this thought, hands clasped behind his back as he paced over to the desk and asked with mock solemnity, “Can Wenqing write the characters for ‘Longfeng’?”
Mu Qing kept a straight face and said nothing, replacing the paper with a clean sheet and wielding the brush with determination, resolved to show Old Zhu what a child prodigy looked like.
Hah, the mere characters “Longfeng” were child’s play.
Wait… how exactly was the traditional character for “Feng” written again?
The little genius meticulously finished writing the traditional character for “Long,” feeling immensely proud of the perfectly formed character on the paper. But his pride didn’t last long—when it came time to write the next character, he froze.
He remembered that the traditional character for “Feng” had many strokes, but what exactly went inside that half-enclosed frame?
The little genius hesitated, feeling that this way wasn’t right and that way wasn’t right either. After agonizing for a while, he still couldn’t figure out what should go inside, so he huffily drew a “又” instead.
Simplified characters are still characters! Even the character for “hui” in “fennel beans” has four different ways of writing it. Though only he himself knew that what he wrote was correct, so what? He’d written it—that was victory enough!
Old Zhu clicked his tongue in amazement at the large characters on the desk. “Look, dear, our Wenqing can even invent characters if he doesn’t know how to write them. He’s sure to become a remarkable scholar in the future.”
Mu Qing: “…”
For a moment, he couldn’t tell if this was praise or sarcasm.
Ma Xiuying rolled her eyes at him, rubbed her lower back, and stood up to take a few steps. “You talk as if you could write it yourself. Stop bullying Wenqing—if you make the child cry, you won’t know how to comfort him.”
Zhu Yuanzhang straightened his posture. “Who says I can’t comfort him? I’m excellent at comforting children!”
Mu Qing handed him the brush with both hands. “Father, you write it.”
Old Zhu snorted and, without another word, swiftly wrote two large characters. “Don’t look down on me just because I came from humble origins. Nowadays, I can write and compose essays with no trouble at all. I’m quite impressive.”
Ma Xiuying sighed helplessly, resting her forehead in her hand. “Chongba, there’s so much business waiting for you outside. Stop staying indoors and go attend to military affairs.”
Zhu Yuanzhang set down the brush and flexed his wrist. “No rush. I’ll leave once Wenzheng returns.”
His wife was far along in her pregnancy—the physician said the baby would arrive in May, and it was already March. Someone absolutely had to stay home at all times.
Having Wenqing at home didn’t count; if something happened, the little fellow probably wouldn’t even know to call for help. It was better to have older ones like Wenzheng and Wenzhong stay behind for peace of mind.
Mu Qing looked up gloomily. “Father, I can hear you.”
Zhu Yuanzhang said righteously, “Then tell me, what can you do?”
Mu Qing replied expressionlessly, “I know how to tell the guards at the door to fetch a physician, a midwife, or to bring you back home.”
So what if he was young? Being young didn’t mean he was useless.
Old Zhu marveled, “Dear, our Wenqing knows quite a lot.”
Mu Qing: “…”
Ma Xiuying: “…”
He was just young, not stupid.
Mu Qing finally understood: when their father was in a bad mood, it was best to stay away; when he was in a good mood, he became even more insufferable. How could there be such an annoying person in the world?
So annoying!
Before long, Zhu Wenzheng returned to take over. Seeing his little brother sulking and ignoring everyone, he couldn’t resist teasing him. “What’s wrong? Did Father bully you again?”
The poor little thing sniffled. “Why did you take so long to come back?”
Even though Brother Wenzheng wasn’t very reliable either, compared to Old Zhu, he’d still choose his dear Brother Wenzheng.
Zhu Wenzheng couldn’t help laughing when recalling what happened earlier. “I went to check on Little Geng Uncle’s injury. The wound on his backside hasn’t healed yet, and he’s now grumbling about going to sleep on Old Tang’s floor, hahahaha!”
Mu Qing’s expression turned somewhat peculiar, and after holding back for a moment, he couldn’t help joining in the laughter.
Old Zhu had two trusted followers surnamed Geng – the elder Geng Junyong and the younger Geng Zaicheng. To distinguish between them, everyone simply called them Big Geng Uncle and Little Geng Uncle.
Their current location, Hezhou, was an important strategic town north of the Yangtze River. Caishiji in Hezhou had been the primary crossing point since ancient times, hence it was heavily garrisoned by Yuan troops. Given Old Zhu’s military strength, a direct assault would certainly fail – capturing Hezhou required clever strategy.
Old Zhu was exceptionally quick-witted. If cunning was needed, cunning he would employ – nothing could stump the brilliantly clever Zhu Chongba.
He arranged two forces for the attack: one dressed in normal Red Turban Army attire, and the other wearing official army uniforms and carrying the seized Tiger Head Tokens to pose as government troops.
The Tiger Head Token was the imperial authority for troop mobilization. With these tokens, their disguised government troops could easily enter Hezhou by claiming to be allied reinforcements.
Even if the city defenders grew suspicious, it wouldn’t matter – there was a Red Turban force chasing behind them. Seeing the approaching Red Turban Army, the city guards would have to let the “allied troops” enter to prevent their complete annihilation.
The rebel troops disguised as government soldiers would infiltrate the city using the Tiger Head Tokens. When the Red Turban Army reached the city walls and began their assault, the infiltrators would light signal fires inside. With coordinated attacks from both inside and outside, how could Hezhou not fall?
This plan was somewhat idealistic, but their father never lacked people who dared both to conceive and execute bold ideas. When the plan was reported to Commander Guo, he too thought it excellent.
The troops disguised as government soldiers were led by Commander Guo’s brother-in-law Zhang Tianyou and Tang He, while Geng Zaicheng followed with the main Red Turban force twenty li behind.
The operation proceeded smoothly at first. The city guards showed no suspicion upon seeing the Tiger Head Tokens and immediately brought out wine and meat to reward the “allied troops.” Zhang Tianyou graciously accepted their hospitality, and thus the real and fake government troops began celebrating together.
With Zhang Tianyou present, command authority never reached Tang He’s hands. The celebration became too merry too quickly, leaving Old Tang helplessly watching them feast from morning till night. Despite multiple reminders, Zhang Tianyou completely forgot their actual mission.
Geng Zaicheng waited and waited outside until darkness fell without seeing any signal fires from the city. Assuming Zhang Tianyou’s side had succeeded, he directly launched the assault on Hezhou.
Hezhou, with its river crossing docks, was a crucial military stronghold for the imperial court. The defending general Yesun Temur (not Toqto’a’s brother of the same name) was unafraid of battle. Seeing the Red Turban Army at his gates, he immediately led his troops out to engage them.
Geng Zaicheng commanded fewer soldiers than Yesun Temur. Storming a city was never a situation where fewer could defeat more, especially without internal support. Soon, Geng Zaicheng’s forces were repeatedly driven back by Yesun Temur.
Yesun Temur pursued his advantage, chasing them over thirty li before returning to the city. Unfortunately, Geng Zaicheng took an arrow in the backside during the retreat, infuriating him beyond measure.
By this time, night had fully fallen. The fake government troops inside the city, now well-fed and restless with pent-up energy, encountered Yesun Temur’s exhausted forces returning from their seventy-li round trip. Without a word, they attacked, completely overwhelming the bewildered Yesun Temur.
The two sides had already engaged in battle. Tang He paid no heed to Zhang Tianyou, brandishing his broadsword and fighting courageously as he chased Yesun Temur around, then severed the ropes, seized the bridgehead, and stormed into Hezhou city.
Yesun Temur led his remaining troops in a nighttime escape, planning to recapture the city at daybreak. However, the next day, Old Zhu arrived with reinforcements from the Red Turban Army. Hezhou was easily defended but difficult to attack, and despite his efforts, Yesun Temur could not take it back.
The Red Turban Army captured Hezhou in one vigorous push. Commander Guo was delighted, Zhu Yuanzhang was delighted, Zhang Tianyou was delighted—everyone was delighted, except for Geng Zaicheng, who had taken an arrow to the rear and was anything but pleased.
Young Uncle Geng was furious that the vanguard hadn’t coordinated with him. Zhang Tianyou was Commander Guo’s brother-in-law, so he couldn’t afford to provoke him, but Tang He was another story.
Were they all reincarnated from starving ghosts? If Tang He and the others hadn’t been so focused on eating, how could he have been chased thirty miles by Yesun Temur?
Everyone, come and judge for yourselves—isn’t Old Tang in the wrong here?!