No one had expected Sun Deyan to lead troops to attack Chuzhou. Aside from Old Sun himself, probably everyone else was caught off guard.
No matter how strained his relationship with Guo Zixing had been, they had once fought side by side against the Yuan Army. Now, with Guo Zixing’s body barely cold, Sun Deyan chose to attack the city while the Guo family was holding funeral rites—wasn’t this utterly devoid of sentiment?
Even if Commander Guo had driven him to desperation when he sought refuge with Zhu Yuanzhang, the dead should be respected. He shouldn’t have kicked them while they were down during their mourning.
Publicly, everyone condemned Old Sun for his dishonorable actions, but privately, they all felt that Sun Deyan’s move wasn’t entirely unjustified.
War was like this: if you didn’t strike when the enemy was vulnerable, you might be the one to perish later. Such a golden opportunity was too good to pass up.
Thinking it was one thing; showing it was another. Since Sun Deyan was once again opposing them, they naturally cursed him in the harshest terms.
If their leader truly had nothing to do with this, even better—they could condemn him with even greater righteousness.
Zhu Yuanzhang’s face darkened with the urge to strike someone. “Sun Deyan left Hezhou in disgrace. His affairs have nothing to do with us. You can speculate in private, but if these rumors spread, whoever leaks them will face military punishment.”
His relationship with Guo Tianxu was teetering on the edge; the slightest misstep could lead to mutual destruction. What was Sun Deyan trying to achieve by attacking now? Could he truly believe he could swallow Chuzhou, when he could barely sustain his own troops?
Old Zhu was furious. His subordinates suspected that Sun Deyan’s attack on Chuzhou might be connected to him, and Guo Tianxu surely thought the same. If this wasn’t resolved properly, he would be at a disadvantage in any future dealings with Guo Tianxu, even if he was in the right.
After being reprimanded, his close aides also realized this and shrank back, not daring to speak.
Clenching his fists to calm himself, Zhu Yuanzhang gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, “Send orders to Wu Zhen and Hu Da-hai: if they encounter Sun Deyan, kill him on sight.”
They had moved most of their resources to Hezhou, but Chuzhou still retained considerable forces. With the meager troops under Sun Deyan’s command, he didn’t even need to dispatch reinforcements from Hezhou.
In Hezhou, there was little reaction to the news of Sun Deyan’s attack on Chuzhou. Preparations for crossing the river and heading south continued methodically. Guo Tianxu had initially suspected that Zhu Yuanzhang might be colluding with Sun Deyan to seize the marshal’s position, but when Sun Deyan was slain on the battlefield by Old Zhu’s trusted subordinate Hu Da-hai, he could only curse privately and let the matter drop.
Zhu Yuanzhang had no desire to part ways, and neither did Guo Tianxu. With imperial troops still lurking nearby, he would be insane to break ties with Zhu Yuanzhang.
Guo Tianxu’s reasoning came as a relief to Zhu Yuanzhang. He feared internal strife more than attacks from the imperial court.
The court was now strong in appearance but weak in reality. If they united, they could surely find a way to survive—even if it meant constantly evading pursuit. But internal betrayal was different; that could lead to their downfall without them even knowing how.
Fortunately, after returning to Chuzhou, Guo Tianxu focused on consolidating the troops left by Commander Guo and refrained from causing further trouble. Within two days of Sun Deyan’s death, the appointment from Little Prince Ming arrived.
Guo Tianxu was named Grand Marshal, Zhang Tianyou as Right Vice-Marshal, and Zhu Yuanzhang as Left Vice-Marshal.
The Grand Marshal was the supreme leader of the army, with the Right Vice-Marshal holding a higher rank than the Left Vice-Marshal, leaving Old Zhu relegated to third position.
Zhu Yuanzhang was deeply dissatisfied with this appointment, though it came as no surprise to him. Despite his displeasure, he refrained from voicing any objections.
Liu Futong was a man of grand ambitions, and Du Zundao proved reliable in serious matters. The Huaixi Red Turban Army posed a threat if it grew too powerful, so dividing and ruling them allowed incorporation without losing control—an ideal arrangement from their perspective.
Had most of the troops not been recruited and integrated by Zhu Yuanzhang himself, with many veterans from Guo Zixing’s early uprising days, they would have preferred appointing a trusted confidant to command the Huaixi Red Turban Army directly, to avoid potential instability.
With Guo Tianxu weak and Zhu Yuanzhang strong, they employed a balancing strategy: promoting Guo Tianxu to suppress Zhu Yuanzhang. This ensured Guo Tianxu’s gratitude upon becoming Marshal.
Since the Huaixi Red Turban Army was largely assembled by Zhu Yuanzhang, who commanded both talented followers and personal prowess, Guo Tianxu stood no chance against him. To secure his position, Guo Tianxu would have to seek their aid, thereby facilitating their control over the army.
With Guo Tianxu firmly in their grasp, infiltrating his ranks with their own men became straightforward. Gradually, over three to five years, the Huaixi Red Turban Army would fall entirely under their command.
Du Zundao’s plan was flawless: seize the opportunity while the Huaixi Red Turban Army lacked strong leadership to bring tens of thousands of troops under their wing. Barring unforeseen events, the scheme would succeed within three to five years.
This was an open stratagem, visible to all, yet unassailable given the circumstances. Even if others saw through it, there was little they could do.
Zhu Yuanzhang found himself in this frustrating, helpless predicament. By rights, he should have been furious—how could a true man tolerate being constrained? If Guo Zixing’s suppression was bearable, who was Han Lin’er to dare oppress him?
Outwardly, Old Zhu reacted exactly as Du Zundao and Guo Tianxu had anticipated: upon receiving the appointment, he could only seethe in impotent rage, swallowing his resentment.
In reality, Zhu Yuanzhang felt no anger at all. Instead, he awaited the clash between Liu Futong and Du Zundao, anticipating their mutual downfall.
Thanks to the heavenly voice’s warning, he had gleaned intelligence about Liu Futong’s faction beforehand. Otherwise, he might indeed have been left with nothing but futile fury.
The distant Little Prince Ming required no immediate attention. Meanwhile, he had comrades in Chuzhou keep watch on Guo Tianxu, while he focused on preparations to cross the river southward and attack Taiping.
Hezhou lay north of the Yangtze River, Taiping to the south. A southward crossing demanded a navy for aquatic combat—a major hurdle, as his forces lacked both seasoned naval commanders and warships.
Starting a navy from scratch was impractical given time constraints; he needed to recruit an existing naval force elsewhere.
Military affairs were irrelevant to Mu Qing, whose youth barred him from participation. While his three elder brothers trained in the army, he remained at home, studying reading and writing.
Later generations would jest that Old Zhu, denied schooling in his own youth, assembled a “dream team” to educate his sons once he had the means. Now, with his biological son Zhu Biao yet unborn, he was experiencing a rudimentary version of Old Zhu’s educational dream team firsthand.
Hezhou was now Old Zhu’s base, where the families of the generals had all moved. There were quite a few school-aged children, and the “Dream Team” wasn’t teaching just him alone, but an entire school.
Thankfully, it wasn’t one-on-one tutoring, or he’d have nowhere to cry his eyes out.
Mu Qing, teary-eyed, packed up his schoolbag, bid farewell to the little kids he went to school with, and trudged home with heavy steps.
Life as a child was truly tough. He’d rather go back to editing his “excellent videos” that hardly anyone watched.
So hard, it was just too hard.
The little boy listlessly made his way back when, before even reaching his doorstep, he spotted Zhu Wenzhong and Mu Ying excitedly discussing something.
What were they so happy about?
The little boy, who loved watching excitement, instantly perked up. He hurried over on his short legs, calling out, “Brother, brothers, where are you going?”
Zhu Wenzhong and Mu Ying stopped and turned around, deftly picking up their little brother’s schoolbag. “Brother Wenzheng is sparring with the newly arrived general at the Military Field. We’re going to watch the excitement.”
Mu Qing, freed from the schoolbag that restricted his movement, felt like he’d come back to life. He leaned in, eyes sparkling, and asked, “A newly arrived general? Who is it?”
Although his videos weren’t great, he’d done plenty of research for them. Without any modesty, he could say he was familiar with every notable general under Old Zhu’s command.
However, between the capture of Chuzhou and the taking of Jiqing, too many people had come to join their cause. If he had to guess, he really couldn’t figure out who it might be.
Mu Ying replied cheerfully, “He’s a general from Xuyi named Deng You-de. He brought over ten thousand men with him when he came. I heard he always leads from the front in battles and fights fiercely. As soon as he arrived in Hezhou, Father appointed him as General Manager of the Army.”
Zhu Wenzhong corrected him, “Our father gave him a new name. He’s now called Deng Yu, not Deng You-de.”
The position of General Manager of the Army was even higher than that of a Wanhu (commander of ten thousand), second only to the Marshal in the army. After capturing Chuzhou, their father had immediately promoted Uncle Tang to General Manager of the Army—the highest position he could appoint—showing how much he valued Deng Yu.
Deng Yu had just arrived and was already made General Manager of the Army. Brother Wenzheng wasn’t happy about it, so as soon as he had some free time, he went to challenge him.
Hearing this name, Mu Qing’s eyes shone even brighter. Deng Yu! One of the six founding princes of the Ming Dynasty! He knew, he knew, he knew!
The six founding princes of the Ming Dynasty referred to the six early Ming meritorious officials who were posthumously enfeoffed as princes by Zhu Yuanzhang and honored in the Imperial Ancestral Temple. They were: Prince Wuning of Zhongshan Xu Da, Prince Zhongwu of Kaiping Chang Yu-chun, Prince Wujing of Qiyang Li Wen-zhong, Prince Xiangwu of Dong’ou Tang He, Prince Zhaojing of Qianning Mu Ying, and Prince Wushun of Ninghe Deng Yu.
His two brothers held two of those positions, Uncle Tang and Uncle Xu held two, the yet-to-be-seen vanguard of the Ming, Chang Yu-chun, held one, and the newly arrived Deng Yu held the last one.
Big shots! All big shots!
Zhu Wenzhong, eager to watch the excitement and annoyed by his little brother’s short legs slowing them down, tossed the schoolbag to Mu Ying, hoisted the little boy onto his shoulder, and as they walked, told him about this Deng Yu. “You don’t know how fierce that guy is. When he was sixteen, he was already the leader of his rebel army.”
Mu Ying added, “Brother, he didn’t earn it himself; it was passed down from his father and elder brother.”
Deng Yu’s father, Deng Shun-xing, was a man who valued integrity and upheld righteousness. He was elected by the villagers as the militia leader, commanding troops to protect their territory and ensure the people’s safety. Later, as chaos engulfed the land, he led the villagers in resisting the Yuan Army’s pillaging and slaughter.
Two years ago, Old Man Deng was struck by an arrow and died in battle against the Yuan Army. Deng Yu’s elder brother, Deng You-long, took over the military command. Not long after, Deng You-long fell ill and passed away, leaving the sixteen-year-old Deng Yu to take charge.
Zhu Wenzhong didn’t seem to mind much. “It’s pretty much the same—whether it’s inherited from his father and brother or earned through his own efforts makes little difference. The fact that he could command the respect of his troops at sixteen only proves he’s even more capable.”
Once freed from using her hands, Mu Qing now freed her legs too, blinking as she asked, “Why is Brother Wenzheng so determined to compete with him?”
Zhu Wenzhong and Mu Ying exchanged a glance and couldn’t help but laugh. “Because that kid is a year younger than Brother Wenzheng, yet he’s already the General Manager of the Army, while Brother Wenzheng doesn’t even hold a proper official position. There’s no way he’d accept that without a challenge—hahahahaha!”
By proactively seeking a confrontation, Brother Wenzheng had already lost the psychological battle. It was a rare chance to see him humbled, and they certainly weren’t going to miss it.
Mu Qing: Wow!
Such a plastic brotherhood.