Chapter 85: Father Is Far Too Filial—He Cannot Stand to Hear Your Grandfather’s Cries of Agony!

Inside the hall, the anguished cries of three Zhu Dis, each from a different age—youthful and vigorous, deep and brooding, or weathered and world-weary—rang out, clear and unmistakable.

Indeed, it was three different people screaming.

As long as no one had died, all was well.

Zhu Youjian finally let out a sigh of relief, forcing a sheepish smile. “No need to worry, gentlemen. The ancestor won’t die from that. There was only one charge of gunpowder in the gun.”

The hefty Yongle Emperor stood miserably, wringing his hands, and grumbled, “Youjian, I really don’t know what to say about you!”

“This is unacceptable!”

The portly Hongxi Emperor, his face full of sorrow, leaned against a wall and beckoned to his son, his voice choked with emotion. “Zhanki, your father is just too filial, I can’t bear to hear your grandfather’s screams. Help me away from here, my heart can’t take it.”

“...Alright,” the younger Hongxi, looking thoroughly embarrassed, quickly supported his father. Led by Zhu Qiyu, they found a side hall to rest for a while.

Though all the emperors and crown princes knew the palace well, to avoid accidentally barging in on Zhu Qiyu’s consorts, they obeyed the Emperor Jing’s arrangement.

At the very back, Yu Qian, who hadn’t dared make a sound, began to panic. After running into this, would the Grand Ancestor even let him go? He wouldn’t just silence him, would he?

Zhu Youjian lagged a few steps behind, then put his arm around Yu Qian’s shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, the two appeared in a small, otherworldly realm.

“What… what is this?” Yu Qian was utterly bewildered, staring in shock at the celestial surroundings.

Suddenly, a magnificent wheelchair appeared before him.

Its structure was plain for all to see, inside and out.

Zhu Youjian instructed, “Grand Guardian Yu, memorize this blueprint. Find a few skilled carpenters in the imperial city and have them make three of these as quickly as possible. The Taizong Emperor will find them quite useful.”

So, all this commotion was just to make a few wheelchairs for the Taizong Emperor.

“…Understood.” Yu Qian took a deep breath, pulled out his writing tablet, and hurriedly began to record the design.

Zhu Youjian patted him on the shoulder. If it weren’t for the fact that they hadn’t yet reached the Tianqi era, this bit of carpentry would have been snatched up by Emperor Tianqi Zhu Youxiao himself.

…

Over a month later.

In the Jingtai timeline.

On the twenty-seventh day of the second lunar month, early spring’s chill still lingered in the air, breezing through the palace windows and carrying a refreshing coolness.

Seated in a wheelchair, after ten days of recuperation, the aged Zhu Di allowed himself a faint smile of contentment.

“This thing is truly convenient—much more comfortable than a sedan chair.”

Of course! When something is selected by all nine imperial clans, it’s bound to be of the highest quality!

“Father, you shouldn’t always be sitting in that. Youjian said it’s for people who are disabled. You were practically recovered by the very next day. It’s not right to keep relying on it!” the portly Yongle Emperor advised, his face full of worry.

“Hmph! Don’t mention that heartless brat to me. If it weren’t for my sturdy constitution, I’d have been at death’s door that day!” Old Zhu Di snorted, rising to stand and walking outside.

Zhu Laosi arrived, pushing the wheelchair. He couldn’t sit still, but the chair was still necessary—otherwise it would be harder to keep up the act.

Trailing behind was young Zhu Di, sitting comfortably in a wheelchair, being pushed along by an attendant.

In exchange for not being beaten senseless during the Hongwu era, Zhu Gaoxu had been hired to push him around for a while.

As for how long, that would be until they left the Jingtai timeline. That would fulfill the bargain.

Zhu Gaoxu hadn’t thought it would last long at first, but in the blink of an eye, a month had passed. Now his head ached, and even his teeth hurt from it.

You’d think about giving up, but after a whole month, it would be a shame to quit—the sunk cost was just too much.

“Damn it, is Sanbao lost at sea? How can it take so long!?”

Every so often, Zhu Gaoxu would grumble in frustration. He was a prince, a dignified man, and yet had been reduced to a servant.

“Hey now, what’s that talk?” young Zhu Di said in earnest, patting Zhu Gaoxu on the hand as he pushed the chair. “Second Brother, you have a tough lot. Do your job well and Father will remember the favor in the Hongwu era. Who knows, maybe you’ll get your wish.”

“Now and then, that heartless brat can even swap your identity for a while—wouldn’t that be satisfying?”

Zhu Gaoxu grinned through the pain, replying, “Whether I get what I want is a question for later. If you don’t succeed, it’s all for nothing!”

“Little Father, as for the Crown Prince in the Hongwu era—my uncle’s health was truly poor! I think it happened in the twenty-fifth or twenty-sixth year of Hongwu…”

“Shut up!”

Young Zhu Di was startled, glancing around nervously as he scolded, “Don’t talk nonsense, you fool!”

“What are you afraid of? Grandfather never killed you, did he? He never killed a son during the Hongwu era. Just relax…” Zhu Gaoxu droned on.

Suddenly—

“Prince Han.”

Old Zhu Di looked over with a calm expression. “You’re quite the chatterbox.”

“No, no, just joking around…” Zhu Gaoxu forced a smile and fell silent, his gaze darting to the palace gate. He lowered his voice, “Father, that heartless brat is coming.”

Swish!

Zhu Laosi promptly sat in the wheelchair, his face turning inexplicably pale.

Abba abba!

Young Zhu Di went limp, slumping in the chair with a vacant look, nearly drooling.

Zhu Gaoxu clicked his tongue in amazement. No wonder—after years of eating swill and feigning madness, their acting was top-notch. They really looked the part.

This scene was exactly as it had been after being beaten by the Grand Ancestor.

“Eldest Brother.”

Old Zhu Di called out unhurriedly.

“Coming, Father.” The chubby Yongle Emperor rolled out in his wheelchair, wearing an innocent expression.

Old Zhu Di stared in disbelief, then kicked him and barked, “Why are you still sitting there? Get out!”

“Father, we’ve already gotten quite a lot from him. Isn’t this going a bit far…” Yongle grumbled as he vacated the chair.

“Is there ever enough of a good thing? Keep pushing,” Old Zhu Di shot him a glance, settling back into the chair and beginning to hum.

Oh, for heaven’s sake!

Zhu Youjian’s head felt two sizes too big as he entered the palace, forcing a bitter smile. “Ancestors, I really have nothing left to give.”

“Is that so? I don’t believe you,” Old Zhu Di raised a skeptical brow.

“Hungwu, Jianwen, and Yongle each owe tens of thousands of pills. Even if I work day and night, I can only make about four thousand a day!” Zhu Youjian was at his wit’s end.

The past month had worn him out. Aside from keeping up with the maritime expedition, every time he returned, these three ancestors would guilt-trip him and demand more pills.

Each one acted as if half-paralyzed. At first, they’d even fooled him into thinking they’d developed a resistance.

Truly worthy of being Ming’s first Oscar-worthy prince.

Zhu Yunwen, swindled into a limp, was not wronged in the least.

Far away in the Jianwen timeline, Zhu Yunwen was busy weeding in the fields when he suddenly sneezed several times in a row.

“I’m not listening.”

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t want to know.”

Old Zhu Di, Zhu Laosi, and young Zhu Di all whined in unison, refusing to hear any excuses, simply extending their hands for more.

“What!?”

“The expeditionary force from three reigns has arrived in Japan—who said they don’t care, don’t listen, don’t ask!?”

Stepping halfway through the palace gate, Zhu Yuanzhang’s face darkened, his gaze sweeping coldly over his three sons.

…