Chapter 2: Betraying One’s Ancestors for Personal Gain—Zhu Youjian!
Within the Hall of Heavenly Mandate, a profound silence reigned.
Zhu Yuanzhang gazed at the man before him, clad in a dragon robe and kneeling in obeisance. His face was as dark as coal, and from his labored breathing he forced out a single word:
“Kill!”
At once, the secretive Embroidered Guards sprang into action, their blades gleaming coldly, drawing ever closer!
A faint hum sounded, and in an instant, only three remained within the hall.
Zhu Youjian had activated the Minor Barrier, shutting away all but Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao.
Observing their shock, he could only offer a wry smile. The target his Temporal Traversal had locked onto was the man in the dragon robe, but he had not expected to land right beside the Crown Prince.
In his haste, he had forgotten the Ming dynasty’s dragon robe traditions—the one in the fiery red five-clawed robe was Zhu Yuanzhang. Zhu Biao too wore a dragon robe, though his bore four claws.
“This realm stands apart from the world outside,” Zhu Youjian announced as he rose, saluting respectfully. “Great Ancestor, surely now you believe me.”
Zhu Yuanzhang was deeply shaken. Such power did not warrant him rushing to acknowledge an ancestor, yet he asked sternly, “Which generation descendant are you?”
“Great Ancestor, I am Zhu Youjian, your eleventh-generation grandson, and the sixteenth emperor of the Ming,” Zhu Youjian replied at once.
Zhu Youjian? Witnessing such an extraordinary scene, Zhu Yuanzhang managed to retain his composure. Pressing down the tumult in his heart, he asked, “Biao, recite for me the generational poem I composed for you.”
The naming of Zhu Yuanzhang’s descendants followed the cycle of the five elements—sons like Zhu Biao, Zhu Di, and Zhu Su bore characters denoting wood; grandsons like Zhu Yunwen and Zhu Gaochi used fire; great-grandsons such as Zhu Zhanji and Zhu Zhanxi used earth, and so forth.
The generational poem was a special verse Zhu Yuanzhang had crafted, each of his sons receiving twenty unique characters, none repeated, for a total of five hundred—testament to the old Zhu’s scholarly pride.
Zhu Biao recited in his mellow voice: “Yunwen follows the ancestral teachings, Qinwu surpasses great lords, in accordance with the path fortune is met, with virtuous teachers goodness shines.”
“Does the character ‘You’ appear in any generation?” Zhu Yuanzhang asked calmly.
Zhu Biao gave a rueful smile to his father. “But the line you gave Fourth Brother reads: Gaozhan Qijian You, Houzai Yichang You...”
Though Zhu Youjian had not explained much, Zhu Biao’s intelligence allowed him to glean the truth from the name alone.
Silence returned to the Hall of Heavenly Mandate.
“So, something happened in later generations, and the fourth branch became the main line,” Zhu Yuanzhang’s expression shifted, though he was not entirely surprised by the outcome. While he valued the main line, at least the Ming name endured.
He had already accepted the truth. Zhu Yuanzhang was no atheist—indeed, in ancient times, few were. He knew well that, from his rebellion to his ascension, many inexplicable things had occurred, and he had always believed it was the will of Heaven.
What’s more, this descendant, claiming to be the sixteenth emperor, had, with a wave of his hand, made dozens of Embroidered Guards vanish—surely a sign of the divine!
That his descendants had become immortals—Zhu Yuanzhang’s face remained impassive, but inwardly, schemes began to form.
He wondered: did immortality have an age limit? If not, could an old man like him still test his aptitude?
For a ruler, the lure of immortality was irresistible, enough that Zhu Yuanzhang subconsciously overlooked his descendant’s disheveled state.
Zhu Biao frowned and asked, “Youjian, what has happened to you?”
Just moments before, Zhu Yuanzhang had acted so swiftly that Zhu Youjian had hardly come to his senses before being summoned to the hall.
Here it comes!
Complaining was an art—complain well and avoid a beating, that was true mastery!
Zhu Youjian drew a deep breath. “The Ming... is about to fall!”
“Wait—don’t be hasty! Great Ancestor, let us speak calmly!” he cried.
Zhu Yuanzhang, face black with anger, demanded between breaths, “How is our Ming about to fall?”
A master of manipulation, yet betrayed by his ministers!
Zhu Youjian answered in sorrow, “To report to the Great Ancestor: the current reign is Chongzhen, the sixteenth era of the Ming. By my time, the nation’s fortunes have withered!”
“Beyond the borders, the Manchu invaders eye us hungrily. In Shaanxi, rebel forces have seized half the land. The court is a den of demons, and I, your inept descendant, am powerless to prevent the collapse of the realm!”
“Though I have acquired supernatural arts, one man’s strength cannot hold up a falling house. So I have come, thick-skinned, to the Hongwu era, to beg Great Ancestor to send troops and aid me in quelling the rebellion!”
Zhu Yuanzhang’s gaze was piercing, focusing on the final words. “You can take troops to the Chongzhen era?”
“I can!” Zhu Youjian paused. His temporal ability did not limit numbers. If it was not forbidden, then it was possible!
Zhu Yuanzhang slapped his hand down. “Good! I want to see this with my own eyes...”
You want to go there yourself? Wouldn’t you beat me to death once you got there?
Feeling uneasy, Zhu Youjian hurried to change the subject, bowing solemnly. “Great Ancestor, in truth, the matter of imperial succession did not occur in distant generations, but changed just eighteen years after your reign.”
“Oh?” Zhu Yuanzhang raised a brow.
Forgive me! I must now trade my ancestors for my own survival!
Clearing his throat, Zhu Youjian declared solemnly, “In the thirty-first year, the Imperial Grandson Zhu Yunwen ascended the throne, taking the reign title Jianwen. Four years later, King Yan Zhu Di, our ancestor, seized the capital under the banner of ‘pacifying disorder,’ and proclaimed himself emperor with the reign title Yongle...”
“What?! The fourth son rebelled?”
“Where did he find the gall?”
Zhu Yuanzhang exploded with fury, thundering as he pounded the table, “That wretch dared steal your throne, Biao! I’ll see him destroyed!”
“Calm yourself, Father. As far as I know, Fourth Brother always loved the art of war, not the throne. There must have been some change of heart,” Zhu Biao quickly soothed him, pressing his father back down before turning to ask, “But Youjian, why did Yunwen inherit the throne?”
“Indeed! Biao, after you have reigned thirty-one years, with your eldest grandson Xiongying and second grandson Yuntong, how did this illegitimate child come to inherit the empire?” Zhu Yuanzhang pressed, clearly pleased with the thirty-one-year reign attributed to Zhu Biao.
Yet he was utterly dissatisfied with Zhu Yunwen’s succession.
Zhu Youjian blinked, sensing a misunderstanding, and explained, “Great Ancestor, it was after your thirty-one years of rule that Imperial Grandson Zhu Yunwen ascended the throne.”
“Moreover, Imperial Grandson Xiongying passed away in the fifteenth year of your reign, on the first day of the fifth month, at the age of eight. After his death, he was honored as a prince, posthumously titled 'Prince of Yu,' with the honorific 'Huai.' He is remembered by later generations as 'Prince Yu Huai.'”
“Xiongying... did not survive, then.”
Zhu Yuanzhang’s face was stricken with grief, a sharp bitterness rising in his chest. Zhu Biao’s face went pale with heartbreak.
At this time, Zhu Xiongying was gravely ill, convalescing in the palace and dosed daily with medicines to no avail. Though both men had prepared themselves, confirmation of the loss still brought pain that could not be concealed.
Upon Xiongying they had pinned great hopes; though still young, he was already learned and courteous, bearing the promise of a wise ruler—old Zhu’s greatest hope.
Who could have foreseen this...
“Wait a moment!”
“I reigned for thirty-one years?” Zhu Yuanzhang was stunned by this barrage of news. Suddenly, realization struck, and he stood, voice trembling, “If I ruled for thirty-one years, why did the throne pass directly to my grandson? What of Biao—what of you, Zhu Biao?”
Zhu Youjian’s scalp tingled. He answered, “The Honorable Ancestor Zhu Biao passed away in the twenty-fifth year of your reign, after returning from an inspection in Shaanxi...”
Boom!
Zhu Yuanzhang staggered, bracing himself on his desk, barely hearing the rest. In agitation, he pressed on, “The Crown Prince—how did the Crown Prince die?”
He felt nothing at the news of his own sixteen remaining years—at fifty-five, to live until seventy-one was already an impressive span in those times.
But the thought of Zhu Biao’s death was intolerable. He would rather this visitor were a celestial sent to deceive him than accept the prospect of a father burying his own son.
“Due to a back ulcer aggravated by overwork, both physical and mental, he was left with a fatal weakness,” Zhu Youjian replied after some thought.
Zhu Yuanzhang’s gaze turned fierce. “Could the Crown Prince have been murdered?”
“The cause was most likely exhaustion. The illness was but the final straw,” Zhu Youjian paused, then added, “There is also a chance it was the result of an old injury from when he once fell into a river.”
Zhu Biao’s death benefited so few.
Zhu Yuanzhang had long since established the ancestral law: even if Zhu Biao died, only his descendants could inherit the throne, and the princely lines had no claim!
Moreover, the courtiers all needed a Crown Prince, gentle compared to the emperor, to shield them from imperial wrath.
The only beneficiary was Consort Lü; Zhu Yuanzhang would have investigated countless times. If she had been the culprit, she would never have escaped detection.
Even if Zhu Yunwen was to be named heir,
It would not prevent Consort Lü from choking to death on her water...
...