Adults can become so absorbed in their work that they forget to eat, but children aren’t like that.
The little unlucky child had only come to call his father back for a meal. Who would have thought that running an errand could lead to encountering something supernatural?
Humbly shedding tears.jpg
Zhu Yuanzhang had a headache. He could order his subordinates to watch their words and actions, but now there was a young child who couldn’t be reasoned with. What was to be done?
Old Zhu wiped his face roughly, bent down to pick up the clueless unlucky child, and racked his brains trying to figure out how to reason with a child this young. “Wenqing…”
Mu Qing’s eyes widened in terror, his little hands covering his mouth, his entire body radiating the message: “Dad! I’ll shut up! Don’t kill me!”
Zhu Wenzheng quickly snatched the child back. “Dad, let’s talk this through properly. Wenqing’s thin arms and legs can’t handle your anger.”
Old Zhu was taken aback for a moment, then felt the urge to beat his son again. “What anger? Which eye of yours saw me angry?”
Zhu Wenzheng took a step back without speaking, but the expression on his face made it clear: he had seen it with both eyes.
Old Zhu took a deep breath to calm down, then rolled up his sleeves with a fierce expression. Instead of beating both children, he grabbed Zhu Wenzheng by the ear and said through gritted teeth, “If your little brother gets scared because of this, you’ll spend the rest of your life staying home as his bodyguard!”
Before he finished speaking, the child in Zhu Wenzheng’s arms had changed owners again.
Mu Qing, dizzy from being passed around, silently mourned for three seconds for his unlucky older brother.
Having the Hongdu War God as his bodyguard – he really was something special.
Zhu Yuanzhang rubbed the child’s head, murmuring comforting words. “Don’t listen to his nonsense. Your father isn’t the rough fellow he used to be. The scholars say gentlemen use words, not fists – I’m now a reasonable gentleman.”
Zhu Wenzheng: …
Others nearby: …
Even when bullying children, one shouldn’t go this far. Do you actually believe that yourself?
Whether others believed it or not didn’t matter – Old Zhu firmly believed that since he could now read and write, he was indeed a gentleman who used words rather than fists.
Gentleman Zhu carried the child to the doorway and gently reasoned with him. Explaining the grand situation of the world would be beyond the child’s understanding, so he simply told him not to speak about what he had just seen.
Their Wenqing was an obedient, good child who surely wouldn’t disappoint him.
Mu Qing covered his mouth and nodded like a chick pecking at rice, using his sincere big eyes to convey his seriousness to his father.
Don’t worry, father – once he stepped out this door, he would be mute. No one could make him utter another word.
After Zhu Yuanzhang finished his earnest instructions, he turned and dragged Zhu Wenzheng, who had been hiding stealthily behind the door. “Take Wenqing back to eat, then have your mother prepare food and bring it to the meeting hall.”
Zhu Wenzheng quickly straightened up. “Understood.”
Zhu Yuanzhang laughed and scolded him, waiting until both had walked away before summoning the guards in the courtyard.
This morning was no different from any other – they hadn’t seen any Divine Manifestation, and nothing had happened in the meeting hall.
If he heard that anyone mentioned it outside, they needn’t value their lives anymore.
The gods dwelled in high places and couldn’t be seen so casually. They were fortunate to have witnessed it once, but if they brazenly spread word about it, they should beware of heavenly thunder striking them down.
The guards knelt trembling, repeatedly swearing oaths that they would never speak of it to outsiders.
Old Zhu nodded with satisfaction. There was a reason why rebel forces everywhere liked to use the pretext of divine beings descending to earth to launch their uprisings. Although he no longer believed in gods or Buddhas, he knew just how convenient it was to use their names to get things done.
Take this situation, for example. If he ordered them not to spread the news, some would inevitably gossip in secret, unable to resist. But simply saying that the gods were watching from above made things much easier. People feared ghosts and deities—no one wanted to be struck by lightning.
Zhu Yuanzhang managed to intimidate his guards with a mix of persuasion and threats. He glanced at Li Shanchang, who was busy inside the house and sweating profusely, then thought of Commander Guo, who had caused him quite a bit of trouble lately, and couldn’t help but sigh again.
He knew Guo Zixing had a bad temper, and handing over all his troops had been a carefully considered decision. He had thought that, at worst, things wouldn’t be too bad. Commander Guo might lack foresight, but at least he was open to advice—not the type to stubbornly cling to a mistaken path even when he knew it was wrong.
He never expected that his assumptions would prove overly simplistic.
That old scoundrel Guo Tianxu was utterly shameless. He had little talent but plenty of cunning, spending his days stirring up trouble.
What had happened in the past was over, and Zhu could let it slide. But if Guo Tianxu tried to trip him up again, he wouldn’t just take it lying down.
The thirty thousand troops in Chuzhou were his own creation—well-equipped and disciplined. Among the ten thousand soldiers Commander Guo had brought, many were also recruited by him. If he wanted to, he could easily sideline Commander Guo.
But Zhu Yuanzhang was not an ungrateful man.
It was Commander Guo who had taken him in when he was desperate, promoted him to a personal guard, entrusted him with leading troops in battle, and even married his capable and virtuous adopted daughter to him. Such great kindness was beyond repayment. He couldn’t harbor resentment toward his benefactor just because the latter was being manipulated by a villain.
Even if that villain was his benefactor’s own son.
Zhu Wenzheng curled his lips into a cold smile. His respect for Commander Guo was due to the man’s kindness, but that old scoundrel Guo Tianxu had shown him no such favor.
In the past, when Guo Tianxu caused trouble, Zhu had let it slide out of respect for Commander Guo. But now that the fire was burning at his own doorstep, he had to find a way to protect his own life.
How Liu Futong’s Ming Army repelled the Mongols wasn’t important. What mattered now was how to deal with the million-strong Yuan army under Tuotuo.
The heavenly voice claimed that the rebel forces only survived because the emperor in Dadu had gone mad, but no one knew whether that was true or not.
If the emperor had truly gone mad, that would be ideal. But if he hadn’t, and hadn’t recalled Tuotuo to Dadu, they would still be worrying about how to face the advancing government troops.
The light screen came and went without a trace, and they had no idea where the heavenly voice came from. Placing their hopes in such an elusive voice without any understanding of its origins would be no different from seeking their own doom.
Zhu Yuanzhang took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on his body, and steadied his mind. He turned and went back inside to see how Old Li was getting on with his work.
The autumn breeze was gentle. When the sun first rose, the chill hadn’t yet dissipated, but now that the sun was high in the sky, the coolness had mostly faded.
Mu Ying and Zhu Wenzhong had gone to the training ground early in the morning to drill with the soldiers and wouldn’t return until the session was over. They wouldn’t be having breakfast at home.
Zhu Wenzheng carried his little brother, whose short legs dangled, and familiarly made his way to the backyard. Only after stepping over the threshold did he set him down. “Mother, I’ve brought Wenqing back.”
Ma Xiuying had no appetite due to her troubled thoughts. The morning meal, prepared earlier, had gone cold and was returned to the kitchen to be kept warm. It was only brought out again by the maid upon hearing voices.
“Mother, Father asks you to prepare food and send it to the front hall. They have important matters to discuss today, so he won’t be returning to his room to eat.” Zhu Wenzheng finally felt his hunger upon smelling the food. After briefly delivering his message, he picked up his chopsticks and began devouring the meal like a whirlwind.
The matter of the Divine Manifestation couldn’t be spread abroad. Though Mother wasn’t an outsider, it wasn’t his place to speak of it. He’d let Old Zhu explain himself when he had time.
He didn’t speak of it, and Ma Xiuying didn’t ask. She could always inquire when Old Zhu returned.
After being adopted by Guo Zixing, she hadn’t only learned needlework and embroidery but had also studied classics, histories, and philosophy with a tutor. Their household wasn’t strict about such things, and with the world growing increasingly chaotic, every bit of learning counted.
Guo’s foster son showed little interest in his studies and had a mischievous, impatient nature. The tutor, paid to do his job, dared not discipline the unruly young master. In the end, it was she, a daughter, who learned the most.
Old Zhu knew she wasn’t an illiterate woman. Even if she didn’t initiate the conversation, he would discuss matters with her upon his return.
Husband and wife were one. He might keep secrets from others, but never from her.
Ma Xiuying sent the maid to the kitchen to prepare another meal. She asked Zhu Wenzheng how many people remained in the front hall, then instructed the maid to cook extra rice.
Men in their prime were all bottomless pits—without extra portions, there wouldn’t be enough to feed them.
Mu Qing listlessly climbed onto his stool, picked up his special small bowl and spoon, and mechanically shoveled rice porridge into his mouth.
The family’s meals were simple. Old Zhu had endured hard times in the past—having food to eat was enough, and he wasn’t picky about anything else.
Famine plagued the land, and Chuzhou’s grain reserves were scarce. Not a single grain of rice could be wasted.
Their three daily meals consisted of plain home-style dishes: steamed buns, rice, pickles, and rice porridge in the morning, with a few additional dishes at noon and evening—always hearty and filling.
In his previous life, he wouldn’t have given such food a second glance. But after experiencing the desperation of fleeing without food or clothing, everything tasted delicious now.
Picky eating?
That was a luxury for those who’d never gone hungry—something he could no longer afford.
The little unlucky fellow hunched over his exclusive bowl, glaring at the rice grains as if they were the videos he’d made. If not for those inexplicable videos, why would he be too afraid to even speak?
What nonsense!
After arranging the meal for the front hall, Ma Xiuying sat down. She’d barely taken two bites when she sensed something amiss. Setting down her chopsticks, she felt the child’s forehead, her eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong, Wenqing? Are you feeling unwell? Why aren’t you speaking?”
The little unlucky one pulled a face that looked more pitiful than a cry and gave his oblivious mother a strained smile before lowering his head to continue eating his rice porridge.
It’s nothing, I’m not sick, just terribly upset. Don’t worry, Mother—it’s just that you’ll have a mute son from now on, woe is me!
Ma Xiuying: ???
What kind of reaction is this?
The child was usually lively—unless asleep or ill, he was never this quiet. He was like a honey jar overflowing with sweetness, his little mouth chattering delightfully enough to melt hearts.
This unusually silent meal left her feeling strangely unaccustomed to the quiet.
Zhu Wenzheng wiped his mouth after filling his belly, patted his younger brother’s head and said, “When Wenqing went looking for them, they were discussing matters in the meeting hall. Father told him not to speak carelessly, and he probably took that to mean he shouldn’t speak at all. Heh, quite obedient indeed.”
The little unlucky chap shot him a resentful look—this wasn’t obedience, this was a survival strategy!
Zhu Wenzheng chuckled cheerfully, bid farewell to his mother and younger brother, and prepared to return to the front courtyard’s meeting hall.
In that short while, Li Shanchang had already organized most of the information from the heavenly voice regarding the situation in the fourteenth year of Zhengzheng and was now sorting through the subsequent content.
Zhu Yuanzhang frowned in deep thought. While it was difficult for them to gather information about the imperial court’s situation, the Goryeo troops stationed in Liuhe were another matter.
The Goryeo army had recently been pressured by the Mongol cavalry under Tuotuo’s command and were currently seething with resentment. When he had previously dealt with those fellows, he hadn’t fought too fiercely—he had used his wits to make them retreat, relying entirely on his brilliant eloquence.
The Goryeo troops in Liuhe had been summoned by Tuotuo, so they certainly knew more about the situation in Tuotuo’s camp than they did. If he sent someone to inquire, they might actually uncover something.
Zhu Yuanzhang grinned. No matter who ended up the final victor, Old Zhu absolutely wouldn’t become cannon fodder!