Daming: Brother, there is no future for monks, let's rebel

"Do you know what? I've been dreaming about something a lot lately."

"What did Your Majesty dream about?"

"I dreamt that you were sitting on the top of Chengtian City." Zhu Yuanzhang stared at him, his tone suddenly becoming sharp. "Your ministers stood around you, the people knelt and cried out to you, and even I couldn't see where I was."

A silence fell over the hall. Zhu Han raised his eyes, his expression calm: "Does Your Majesty have any doubts?"

"I am not suspicious," Zhu Yuanzhang said in a low voice, "I am afraid."

"afraid?"

"I'm afraid the world will only remember your name and not mine."

As soon as those words were spoken, the candlelight in the hall seemed to dim for a moment.

Zhu Han slowly stepped forward, his gaze as calm as still water: "If my brother were truly afraid of this, the world would have been in chaos long ago."

"You think the stability of the realm is due to your skillful protection?" Zhu Yuanzhang sneered. "It's because I've been ruthless in my killings!"

Zhu Han remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking: "Your Majesty, since you have asked, I will answer. What I am protecting is the Zhu family."

"The Zhu family?" Zhu Yuanzhang stared at him.

"Yes. Protecting the Crown Prince is protecting the root of the Zhu family; protecting the people is protecting the life of the Zhu family; protecting His Majesty is protecting the soul of the Zhu family. Without these three, the world is just an empty shell."

Zhu Yuanzhang's breath hitched.

"Have you ever considered that roots can sprout new trees?"

"If a tree is straight, it need not fear casting a crooked shadow," Zhu Han replied calmly.

This time, Zhu Yuanzhang remained silent.

After a long silence, he suddenly smiled and said, "You're always right."

“Your Majesty,” Zhu Han looked up, “I am right, but I have no authority.”

"Power?" Zhu Yuanzhang narrowed his eyes. "You want power?"

“I don’t want that.” Zhu Han slowly shook his head. “I only want the ‘truth’.”

Zhu Yuanzhang's expression shifted slightly.

Zhu Han continued, “Your Majesty pacifies the world with a sword; the Crown Prince guards the world with his heart. I am simply asking people to believe in the ‘truth’ and not the ‘shadow.’ If even this is something to fear, then the world will sooner or later turn dark.”

“But if it is ‘truly’ too excessive,” Zhu Yuanzhang said coldly, “it can also burn people.”

Zhu Han's gaze darkened: "Then let me burn it."

The two looked at each other, speechless for a long time. The candlelight flickered in the wind, illuminating the similar lines on their faces—the same hardness, the same loneliness.

Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly asked, "Brother Han, do you still remember the first day you came into this world?"

Zhu Han felt a slight tremor in his heart.

Zhu Han chuckled softly, "Of course I remember."

"Back then you said you would protect the world." Zhu Yuanzhang looked at him, his tone complicated. "I believed you. But now, you're protecting too much, and I'm afraid of you."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I fear that one day, you will not even be able to protect me."

Zhu Han gazed at him quietly: "If that day ever comes, I will die before Your Majesty."

Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes flickered slightly.

“Your Majesty, I was born neither to rebel nor to be emperor. If Your Majesty wishes me to die, I will not back down. But if Your Majesty wishes the Crown Prince to die, I will certainly stand in your way.”

"You think you can stop me?" Zhu Yuanzhang's voice was deep and thunderous.

"We can't stop it, but we'll try."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly burst into laughter, a laugh tinged with desolation: "Brother Han, Brother Han, you are truly the Achilles' heel of my Zhu family."

Zhu Han's expression remained unchanged; he simply cupped his hands and said, "Your Majesty is right to scold me."

The laughter subsided. Zhu Yuanzhang sat down wearily, remained silent for a long time, and then said, "I am old. The Crown Prince is to ascend the throne, and you must step down."

Zhu Han looked up: "Where to retreat to?"

"Chengtian."

"My brother obeys the order."

In March, Nanjing should be thawing in the spring breeze, with willows swaying green in the breeze. However, since last month, the sky has been overcast and gloomy.

The rain had been falling for seventeen days straight. From Qinhuai to Shicheng, the streets and alleys were wet, water dripped from the eaves, and the low-lying areas outside the city had become ponds.

An early morning memorial was submitted to the palace, reporting that torrential rains had caused widespread flooding in Lishui, Jurong, and Danyang, submerging all the farmland. It was further stated that if the Yangtze River were to rise in a few days, several prefectures along its banks would become a vast expanse of water.

Zhu Yuanzhang, draped in a python robe, sat in the Qianqing Hall, his face ashen. None of the officials in the hall dared to speak, except for the Minister of Rites, who tentatively submitted a memorial: "Your Majesty, the floods are severe, and I fear that unrest among the people may arise. Please devise a strategy as soon as possible."

Zhu Yuanzhang tapped his fingertips lightly on the table and asked in a deep voice, "What policy does the Ministry of Revenue have?"

The Vice Minister of Revenue kowtowed: "The granaries are still adequate, but the roads are blocked by deep waters, making it difficult to transport supplies."

"Difficult to transport goods?" Zhu Yuanzhang sneered. "Then are my troops only raised to guard the water?"

A loud shout silenced the entire hall.

After a moment, Zhu Yuanzhang suppressed his anger, a glint in his eyes, as if deep in thought: "Is Brother Han here?"

Outside the palace gates, a figure slowly entered. He wore a blue inner robe and a black brocade robe over it, his steps unhurried. It was none other than Prince Chengtian, Zhu Han.

He bowed respectfully and said, "Your subject is here."

Zhu Yuanzhang stared at him for a moment, then said calmly, "The south has suffered continuous disasters, and I intend to send someone to inspect and govern it. What do you think about this matter?"

Zhu Han remained expressionless and slowly replied, "The severity of the disaster lies in its speed, and the key to relief lies in the people. If my brother goes, we can save lives for a while; if the Crown Prince goes, we can reassure the people."

Upon hearing this, all the officials in the hall changed color.

Zhu Yuanzhang narrowed his eyes slightly: "You've made that decision quite decisively."

Zhu Han smiled and said, "The people's support doesn't lie with the king, but with the crown prince. Now that the crown prince is overseeing the country, it's time for him to be prepared for any storms."

Zhu Yuanzhang remained silent for a long time before finally nodding and saying, "Alright, you may go with him."

"Your subject obeys."

A gust of wind rose outside the hall, and the sound of dripping water from the eaves was like a broken string. Zhu Han looked up at the sky and saw dark clouds churning like ink.

East Palace.

Upon receiving the imperial decree in the palace, Zhu Biao's gaze sharpened, and he immediately requested permission: "If Your Majesty grants your request, I am willing to personally undertake the southern tour."

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at him, a complex expression in his eyes: "Brother Han, come along."

Zhu Biao was taken aback: "Uncle?"

"It was him who suggested it."

Zhu Biao lowered his eyes and said softly, "Your subject understands."

Zhu Yuanzhang slowly rose, his back to the palace window, his tone shifting between cold and warm: "Biao'er, this mission is not just about providing relief to the people, but also about judging character. You must remember—Heaven may be deceived, but the people cannot."

Zhu Biao kowtowed solemnly: "I will remember."

Night. The Prince Chengtian's Mansion.

The sound of rain pattered on the green tiles, blending into a continuous patter. Zhu Han stood under the eaves, his sleeves slightly rolled up. Shen Lu entered carrying a candle, his footsteps extremely light.

"Your Highness, a letter has arrived from the palace. The Crown Prince is preparing to depart. He will set off at Chenshi (7-9 AM) tomorrow."

Zhu Han nodded, a faint smile on his face: "If he's willing, I'll go with him."

Shen Lu hesitated for a moment: "Your Highness, if anything untoward happens on this journey, His Majesty might..."

Zhu Han waved his hand to interrupt him: "The unpredictable thing is not on the road, but in people's hearts."

He turned to look into the distance, the candlelight reflecting in his eyes like two cold stars: "The Zhu family rule the world, not afraid of water, only afraid of a muddled heart."

The next morning.

At the south gate of Jinling, the morning mist had not yet dissipated. Zhu Biao rode a blue-maned horse, dressed simply.

Zhu Han, dressed in a dark python robe, walked alongside him.

When the people along the way heard that the Crown Prince was inspecting the disaster area, they all knelt down by the roadside.

Zhu Biao bowed in return for each greeting. Zhu Han, however, remained cold and stern, observing quietly from the sidelines.

Ten miles outside the city, the roadside was muddy and waterlogged. A commotion arose ahead; a group of cart drivers were blocking the ferry crossing, arguing incessantly.

Zhu Biao reined in his horse and stepped forward: "What's all this commotion?"

An old coachman bowed and said, "Your Highness, please forgive me! The bridge ahead has collapsed, and the rice carts cannot pass, but the government offices will not allow us to change our route!"

Zhu Biao frowned: "You're not allowed to change course?"

The old driver gritted his teeth: "They said they were 'ordered by the higher-ups' to repair the bridge first before letting the carts pass. But the bridge builders are all stuck on the other side of the river by the rain, and now hundreds of bushels of grain have been ruined by the rain."

Zhu Biao's gaze darkened, and he turned to the accompanying captain: "Check which department's password this is."

After checking, the captain reported, "It's a seal from the Lishui Garrison Command."

Zhu Biao sneered: "The Garrison Command? A place under the Ministry of War, they even dare to seal off grain supplies."

Just as he was about to give the order, Zhu Han spoke up: "Wait."

Zhu Biao turned his head: "Uncle?"

Zhu Han dismounted, bent down to pick up the seal, examined the stamp, and said calmly, "This stamp is genuine, but the person who affixed it is not in Lishui." Zhu Biao's expression hardened: "What do you mean?"

Zhu Han smiled slightly: "Someone is falsely issuing military orders to profit from the disaster."

He looked up at the sky; the rain was still fine. The mountains beneath the dark clouds were as black as ink. He said slowly, "The first wind has come."

Zhu Biao remained silent for a moment, then turned to the captain and said, "Remove the seals and allow the grain carts to cross. Anyone who obstructs the passage will be considered as disturbing the army's grain supply."

Zhu Han stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sharp as a knife, and said in a calm voice, "Before moving the grain, investigate the people first. See who is blocking our way."

Zhu Biao nodded slightly: "Uncle's words are exactly what I was thinking."

That night, the two stayed at Lishui Post Station. The rain intensified, and water trickled from the eaves.

Zhu Biao stood by the window, silently watching the lights being constantly scattered by the rain.

Zhu Han sat at his desk, reviewing the military ration ledgers along the route.

"Uncle," Zhu Biao suddenly asked, "how severe do you think this disaster will be?"

Zhu Han did not answer, but said calmly, "The disaster is not serious if the heart is fearful."

Zhu Biao pondered: "If your heart is not afraid?"

"Then the question should be, who is afraid?"

A moment of silence fell over the room.

Zhu Han raised his head, his gaze deep: "Biao'er, if we really encounter starving people along the way, what will you do?"

Zhu Biao turned around, his gaze unwavering: "Save him."

What happens after the rescue?

"Who wouldn't be saved?"

Zhu Han laughed, but his laughter was cold: "You do have some of the spirit I had back then."

"Uncle back then?"

"In the third year of Hongwu's reign, there was a drought in Jiangbei. My brother, the emperor, had not yet established a capital. I accompanied the army to provide relief grain and encountered an official who was embezzling. The man knelt down and begged for mercy, but I did not listen and had him beheaded."

Zhu Biao was startled: "Does Father Emperor know?"

“He knew. That night, he only said one sentence—'You did the right thing, but don’t let me know.'”

Zhu Han sighed softly: "From that day on, I understood. My brother is not afraid of my ruthlessness, but only of my wisdom."

Thunder rumbled outside, illuminating the world in an instant. Zhu Biao looked at him, a chill creeping into his heart.

Zhu Han slowly stood up, his back as heavy as a mountain: "Tomorrow, we'll travel another thirty li, and the floodwaters will reach the village entrance. At that time, what you'll see is not just the people's hunger, but also the officials' hearts."

After he finished speaking, he turned and went out, the sound of rain carried into the house by the wind.

Zhu Biao stood by the window, remaining silent for a long time.

It has been raining for twenty days straight.

South of Lishui, the riverbed swelled dramatically. The once flat fields have been transformed into a vast expanse of water, with withered trees lying flat and only the eaves of village houses visible.

Occasionally, wisps of smoke could be seen rising from distant chimneys, but they were quickly swept away by the wind

When Zhu Biao and Zhu Han's group reached Jurong, the road was no longer a road, and the mud and water were knee-deep.

The common people sought refuge in mounds and temples, becoming emaciated. Upon seeing the official procession, they all knelt down.

"Your Highness the Crown Prince—!"

"Your Highness, save me!"

The cries were chaotic, rising and falling like a tide.

Zhu Biao dismounted and personally helped an old woman up.

The old woman's arms were like wisps of wood, her face covered in mud and tears. She murmured, "My home is gone... my son and grandson are in the water..."

Zhu Biao was speechless for a moment, and could only whisper comforting words: "With me here, I will make sure you don't go hungry."

Zhu Han stood not far away, watching this scene quietly, his expression unchanging. Shen Lu whispered, "Your Highness, His Highness is too soft-hearted."

Zhu Han did not answer, but turned his gaze to the rushing water in the distance and said lightly, "It's good that he's soft-hearted. Let's see if he can hold on."

On the east side of the official road, there is an old shrine, which is located on slightly higher ground and was chosen as a temporary relief center.

Zhu Biao ordered his men to settle the disaster victims there, to collect food and build shelters.

The accompanying clerk from the Ministry of Revenue, busy checking the accounts, called out, "Your Highness, the capital granary allocated 2,000 shi of grain the day before yesterday, and another 500 shi were added yesterday. There are now 800 shi remaining, enough for two days' relief."

Zhu Biao nodded and asked, "How many more days will it take to transfer them?"

"At least three days."

Zhu Biao frowned slightly.

Zhu Han walked slowly from the side, wearing a rain hat, his clothes dripping wet.

"The grain can be distributed for two days. How do you plan to distribute it?"

Zhu Biao said, "We should proceed according to household registration, starting with the elderly and infirm, then the able-bodied. Those without household registration should be listed separately, and no one should be omitted."

Zhu Han laughed: "The distribution is fair, but slow. Those who are hungry won't wait for you to make a list."

"What does Uncle mean?"

Zhu Han turned to look at the crowd outside the shrine, his voice calm: "There are too many people and not enough food. If you rely entirely on the system, people will die; if you rely on personal feelings, chaos will ensue. — Which do you intend to choose?"

Zhu Biao was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, "I choose 'faith'."

"letter?"

“Believe in the people.” Zhu Biao looked up, his gaze as still as water. “If I believe in them, they will believe in me. If I give them relief today, they will distribute the grain themselves tomorrow.”

Zhu Han raised an eyebrow slightly, a half-smile on his face: "You want the people to distribute the grain themselves?"

"Yes."

Are you aware of the risks?

"If I don't try, I'll never know how far the people's hearts can go."

Zhu Han stared at him for a long time before finally sighing, "Your mental cultivation method is something only a young prince can do."

"Uncle doesn't approve?"

"I don't agree with it, but I appreciate it."

The two looked at each other and smiled, but neither spoke. Outside, the wind and rain intensified, as if Heaven were testing them.

Night fell. Dozens of oil lamps were lit in the ancestral hall.

Zhu Biao, still awake, was served hot soup by Xu Jin, who whispered, "Your Highness, there is a granary ten miles ahead, belonging to the people who have stored up grain. I heard it is managed by the magistrate of Jurong County."

Zhu Biao asked, "What is the county magistrate's name?"

"Li Mao. This man has governed the area for many years and is highly respected by the local people."

Zhu Biao nodded: "I'll visit tomorrow."

At this moment, Zhu Han entered from outside, wearing wet clothes and with a slightly cold expression.

"I heard you're going to the county magistrate's office?"

Zhu Biao stood up to greet him: "Yes. Uncle, do you wish to come along?"

Zhu Han sat down, took the wine offered by Xu Jin, and drank it lightly: "Of course I'll go with you. If you really want to do disaster relief, you should first see who is doing the 'relief'."

Zhu Biao smiled slightly: "Uncle suspects someone is embezzling funds?"

"Doubt?" Zhu Han shook his head. "It's certainty."

Zhu Biao's gaze sharpened, as if he had realized something.

The next day, the rain stopped and the clouds hung low.

The area outside the Jurong County Government Office was still flooded and muddy.

Li Mao was already waiting at the gate, his face respectful, dressed in plain robes, and said, "Your Highness the Crown Prince has traveled a thousand miles to inspect the disaster area; this old minister has failed to greet you properly!"

Zhu Biao smiled and cupped his hands in greeting: "The people are suffering in an urgent manner, so there is no need to stand on ceremony."

Li Mao hurriedly replied, "Your Highness is so kind; Jurong is truly fortunate! This humble servant has already ordered the granaries to be opened and three thousand shi of grain to be distributed; it is all under control."

Zhu Han asked calmly from the side, "Of the three thousand shi, how many shi are in the granary?"

Li Mao hesitated for a moment: "About twelve thousand."

"Then why not open them all?"

"Your Highness, please forgive me," Li Mao bowed and said, "half of this grain belongs to the public reserves, and half is borrowed from the people. If it is all distributed, the accounts may be difficult to verify, and accountability will be difficult to enforce later—"

Zhu Han sneered: "The starving deaths of disaster victims are less serious than your accounts?"

Cold sweat poured down Li Mao's forehead.

Zhu Biao raised his hand to signal, "Uncle, please calm down." He turned to Li Mao and asked in a gentle tone, "I ask you—if we don't provide relief, how many of these people will survive in three days?"

Li Mao knelt on the ground, not daring to answer.

Zhu Biao looked at him quietly for a moment, then sighed: "Lord Li, I don't blame you for cherishing your official position. But if officials cherish their lives more than the people, then this world will be empty."

He slowly turned around and said to his accompanying guards, "Open the granary." (End of Chapter)