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

Zhu Han glanced at him but said nothing.

As the granary door opened, the wooden bolt clattered loudly, and the aroma of grain wafted out. The people, hearing the news, rushed over, and a deafening commotion erupted.

Li Mao said urgently, "Your Highness! This action may cause chaos—"

Zhu Biao looked back and said, "If the people's hearts are in turmoil, then I am wrong; if the people's hearts are at peace, then you are wrong."

Li Mao was taken aback.

Zhu Biao ascended the high platform in front of the granary. The wind after the rain ruffled his clothes. He proclaimed loudly, "People of Jurong, heed my command—the granary opens today, in order of village. Each village head will select three people to share the grain. They must report their share in three days. Anyone found deceiving will be punished according to official regulations!"

The crowd was silent at first, then burst into cheers.

Zhu Han stood at the back of the crowd, his gaze slightly lowered. Shen Lu whispered beside him, "Your Highness, his method might not be reliable."

"Yes," Zhu Han chuckled softly, "but what if things go smoothly?"

Shen Lu was stunned: "Your Highness means—he is testing the people's hearts?"

“He’s testing his own heart,” Zhu Han said in a low voice. “This relief effort isn’t just for the people, it’s also for him.”

Three days later, a miracle occurred.

When the granary in Jurong was opened, there was no chaos. The people distributed the grain among themselves, and there was no fighting.

Villagers used bamboo slips as identification to take turns guarding the granary at night. On the contrary, several officials were exposed by the villagers for secretly hoarding grain sacks.

When Zhu Biao arrived at the scene, he saw that the villagers had set up their own accounts and looked pleased.

"Your Highness, the villagers have spontaneously signed a contract, promising to replenish the grain in three days," Xu Jin reported.

Zhu Biao nodded: "Trust can be established, and the people can entrust their trust to us."

At this moment, an old man stepped forward and kowtowed, holding a tattered bamboo plaque in his hands: "Your Highness, if you do not believe us, you may keep this as proof."

Zhu Biao took the bamboo plaque and saw that the words "People's Hearts" were engraved on it. The strokes were rough, but the force was penetrating the paper.

He smiled and returned the letter himself, saying, "I believe you."

The crowd erupted in cheers once again.

Zhu Han watched from afar, his expression unreadable.

Shen Lu whispered from the side, "Your Highness, the Crown Prince has won."

Zhu Han replied calmly, "Winning temporarily doesn't count as winning. — Look at the 'heart' character on that bamboo plaque; it's carved too deeply and is prone to cracking."

Zhu Han sat alone in his tent. Outside the window, the rain started again, pattering against the eaves tiles.

Shen Lu pushed open the door and handed over a secret letter: "Your Highness, a scout from the front lines has reported that this water is not natural. Someone is releasing the floodgates at night at the upstream stone dam."

Zhu Han suddenly looked up, his eyes turning cold: "Who?"

"It seems to be an order from Zhou Jin, the garrison commander of Zhenjiang."

Zhu Han sneered, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table: "Zhou Jin... the Zhenjiang Military Governor's Office is under the Ministry of War. If he goes easy on us, what is his intention?"

"The scouts say that Zhou Jin and Li Mao have a long-standing relationship. Perhaps it's because Zhou Jin covets the grain and plans to resell it."

Zhu Han slowly rose, put on his robe, and stepped out of the tent. Raindrops splashed on his hair, the chill penetrating to his bones.

He whispered, "I see. Someone wants to make a fortune off the water."

Shen Lu hesitated and asked, "Should we inform the Crown Prince?"

Zhu Han's gaze was deep: "Not for now. Let him investigate on his own."

He turned and walked into the night rain, his voice carried away by the wind: "If he can truly protect the world, he must first learn to smell blood."

The next morning, Zhu Biao went to inspect the granary and suddenly heard people talking among themselves – “The water rose again last night!”

His expression changed, and he immediately ordered an investigation.

Soon, Xu Jin rushed over, panting heavily: "Your Highness, we've discovered that someone released the sluice gate at the upstream stone dam last night, causing the water to surge and flood several villages!"

Zhu Biao's expression suddenly turned cold: "Who gave him that death?"

Xu Jin hesitated: "It seems to be Zhou Jin, the garrison commander of Zhenjiang."

Zhu Biao asked in a deep voice, "Who is Zhou Jin?"

"Under the Ministry of War."

Zhu Biao sneered: "As expected."

He turned and ordered: "Send word to close the road and prohibit all official carriages from passing; send cavalry to bring Zhou Jin to me within three days!"

"Your Highness, this may alarm the Ministry of War—"

"So be it if you disturb them." Zhu Biao's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable chill. "If they dare to let us off the hook, I dare to set them on fire."

As soon as he finished speaking, rain and wind began to swirl around him.

Zhu Han stood at a distance, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.

Shen Lu said softly, "Your Highness, he is angry."

Zhu Han said calmly, "Alright. Let's see if this anger is bloodlust or the edge of a sword."

Two days later, Zhou Jin was escorted to Jurong. The rain had not stopped, and the lights in the ancestral hall were dim.

Zhu Biao sat upright at the desk, while Zhou Jin, bound and standing below, still tried to remain calm: "Your Highness, I was merely following the Ministry of War's routine water allocation, not releasing water privately—"

"Routine?" Zhu Biao stood up, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Why is the routine water only dispensed at midnight?"

Zhou Jin was speechless.

Zhu Han sat quietly to the side, not saying a word, but slowly stroking the teacup.

Zhu Biao approached step by step: "You let the water flow, to greedily collect the grain?"

"Your Highness has wronged me—"

Zhu Biao suddenly raised his hand and slammed it on the table, scattering wood chips everywhere: "Injustice? Did you see those corpses? You're the one who released the water!"

Zhou Jin's body stiffened, she lowered her head, and stopped arguing.

Zhu Biao said coldly, "Take him away and interrogate him, and deal with him according to military law."

Both sides responded in unison.

Zhu Han finally spoke, his tone calm: "Zhou Jin is an official under the Ministry of War. If this matter is decided arbitrarily, the Ministry of War will surely report it to the emperor."

Zhu Biao turned his head, his gaze firm: "If you report this, I will take responsibility."

Zhu Han looked at him and suddenly smiled: "Good. You finally dared to take responsibility."

Zhu Biao paused, a slight warmth rising in his heart.

After three days of rain, the sky cleared slightly.

The floodwaters outside Jurong have receded somewhat, leaving mud covering the fields. Sparse wisps of smoke are rising again from the ruins.

When Zhu Biao returned to the ancestral hall from his inspection, his clothes were still covered in mud and his brows were still dusty from the journey.

Zhu Han sat on the stone steps in front of the hall, facing a chessboard, making his moves extremely slowly.

"What is Uncle calculating now?" Zhu Biao put down his straw hat, his tone tinged with amusement.

Zhu Han didn't look up, but simply said, "Count people."

Who are you?

Zhu Han gently moved a piece, placing it in the center: "The top path is the sky, the bottom path is the heart. If the sky is clear but the person is not stable, this game... is not won yet."

Zhu Biao approached, glanced at the chessboard, and suddenly asked, "Whom does Uncle regard me as?"

Zhu Han looked up, a fleeting smile in his eyes: "You are the 'Empress'."

"And what about your uncle?"

"Me? I'm in the corner."

Why not center it?

Zhu Han said calmly, "Those who occupy the center are easily besieged by the whole world."

Zhu Biao stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed out loud: "Uncle, this move is too profound."

"If you can see through it, then you are not shallow."

As the two were talking, Shen Lu rushed in, his expression grave: "Your Highness, Your Highness, there is an urgent report from the capital."

Zhu Biao took the bamboo tube, unfolded it, and frowned.

"What is it?" Zhu Han asked.

"Minister of War Qi Fu submitted a memorial stating: 'The case of Zhou Jin, the garrison commander of Zhenjiang, involved unauthorized military and political decisions that could disrupt military order. I request Your Majesty to severely punish him.'"

Zhu Han gave a soft "Oh," and said, "You came really fast."

Zhu Biao put down the memorial, his expression unchanged: "Sure enough, they're watching us."

Zhu Han said calmly, "The Ministry of War belongs to Hu Weiyong's faction. His memorial is not for Zhou Jin, but for you."

"for me?"

“You have acted arbitrarily as an officer and abused military power. Although the Emperor has granted you permission to inspect disaster areas, he has not bestowed upon you the imperial insignia. Qi Fu is testing whether your ‘benevolent governance’ can withstand the ‘laws’.”

Zhu Biao took a slow breath and turned to look out the window: "What if we can't stop it?"

Zhu Han laughed: "Then it becomes 'excessive benevolence'."

"Guo Ren?"

"To be benevolent without restraint is a fault." Zhu Biao remained silent for a long time, then suddenly said, "Uncle, if you were me, how would you respond to this matter?"

Zhu Han stood up, put his hands behind his back, and walked to the window: "If I were you, I wouldn't go back."

"Why?"

"The Ministry of War has submitted a memorial accusing you of violating orders. If you argue, it means you are admitting that they are right."

Zhu Biao was slightly taken aback: "Then what should we do?"

Zhu Han turned around, his gaze sharp as a blade: "If I were you—I would let the people go back for me."

Zhu Biao suddenly realized.

Shen Lu, standing to the side, asked in confusion, "Your Highness, what is your intention...?"

Zhu Han smiled: "Disasters can prove benevolence. If the people plead for the Crown Prince themselves, the court's memorials will be nothing but waste paper."

Zhu Biao's eyes lit up: "Does Uncle mean to let the people's will override the government's will?"

"Indeed. The Ministry of War can wield the pen, and the common people can control the heavens."

Two days later, the people of Jurong, Lishui, and Danyang spontaneously wrote a petition, requesting the Crown Prince to leave relief funds to demonstrate his benevolent rule.

Thousands of bamboo plaques bearing signatures were sent to the capital in cartloads. Soldiers along the route stood at attention and allowed them to pass.

Meanwhile, a storm suddenly broke out in the imperial court.

Qi Fu submitted a memorial stating: "The Crown Prince has overstepped his authority and acted arbitrarily, disturbing military affairs and potentially causing instability in the court."

Zhu Yuanzhang read the memorial and remained silent for a long time. No one in the hall dared to speak.

A moment later, Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly asked the eunuch beside him, "Is the disaster relief in Jurong going well?"

"Your Majesty, I have heard that the Crown Prince has established a relief effort based on his integrity, and the people are all praising his virtue."

Zhu Yuanzhang raised an eyebrow: "Praise?"

The eunuch whispered, "The people along the way have spontaneously signed a petition requesting the Crown Prince to leave funds for disaster relief."

Zhu Yuanzhang snorted coldly and threw the memorial down: "That old dog Qi Fu! He's looking at the law, but I'm looking at the heart!"

The sound made the beams and pillars of the golden hall tremble slightly.

"Issue an imperial decree—Qi Fu is dismissed from his post, and the Ministry of War is temporarily to be managed by the Minister of Revenue. In another decree, the Crown Prince may carry out disaster relief work without needing to request permission."

The courtiers were all shocked, but Zhang Chang stepped forward and kowtowed: "Your Majesty, this action may shake the very foundations of the state—"

Zhu Yuanzhang gave him a cold glance: "What's the point of having laws and regulations if they hinder saving the people?"

Zhang Chang fell silent.

That night, Zhu Han sat alone in his tent when he suddenly heard an urgent report from outside: "Your Highness! There's another unusual development at the front—the Danyang dike has collapsed!"

Zhu Han's expression changed, and he immediately stood up: "Where did it collapse?"

"In Beiba, there are rumors that someone deliberately cut off the piles."

"Another human intervention?"

"Yes!"

Zhu Han said coldly, "Investigate!"

He donned his cloak and stepped out of the tent. The rain began again, and lightning flashed like snakes across the sky.

Shen Lu followed closely behind and whispered, "Your Highness, if it's the Ministry of War again this time..."

“Then it’s not just about greedy grain,” Zhu Han said, his voice as cold as iron. “It’s about using the disaster to control the Crown Prince’s power.”

Shen Lu was startled: "Who dares?"

Zhu Han's gaze was deep: "Some of those people in the capital... have been displeased with the Crown Prince for far too long."

He paused, then slowly added, "And I should also see who makes the first move in this game."

The following morning, Zhu Biao received a report that the Danyang dike had collapsed. He immediately ordered people to repair it and sent Xu Jin to investigate.

Before noon, Xu Jin reported: "Your Highness, the dike piles have been deliberately cut off. The knife marks on the wooden piles are fresh, and there are marks of soldiers' boots at the scene."

"Which unit's boots?"

"This is not a military tally from Zhenjiang; it is suspected to belong to the Beijing army."

"The Imperial Guard?" Zhu Biao's pupils constricted sharply. "Those are Father Emperor's personal guards!"

Zhu Han walked in slowly, his expression calm: "If the Imperial Guards are mobilized, it's not just the Ministry of War that can control them."

Zhu Biao looked at him, his gaze complex: "Uncle suspects..."

Zhu Han shook his head: "I don't doubt it, I'm just reminding you. — Some moves aren't just yours to make."

Zhu Biao was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Uncle, if you were me, what would you do?"

Zhu Han smiled slightly: "If I were you, I would remain calm and wait for the right moment to act."

"Silence? The dike collapsed and people died. If this is not dealt with, how can we convince the public?"

Zhu Han looked out the window, where a thin curtain of rain was falling obliquely: "If you punish them immediately, they will become the 'loyal soldiers' who have been murdered; if you repair the dike first and then ask for permission, you will be 'upholding righteousness'."

Zhu Biao seemed to understand: "Uncle means—to replace punishment with rectification, and to overcome doubt with stability?"

"good."

"What if Father Emperor questions me?"

Zhu Han smiled faintly: "Then let him say it himself: Where did the Crown Prince go wrong in building the dike?"

Zhu Biao looked at him and suddenly realized that this imperial uncle's thoughts were like the sea, seemingly calm but with boundless undercurrents.

A light mist hung in the air, and the wind blew through the ruins of the dilapidated village, carrying the scent of earth and decay. The rain had finally stopped, and the sky was a dull gray, like a layer of old cotton wool, with the sun reluctant to peek through.

Zhu Biao sat on his horse, silently gazing at the destroyed village before him. The once green tiles and white walls were now nothing but rubble and withered trees.

The stone tablet at the village entrance is leaning and lying in the mud, and several children are trying to prop it up.

Zhu Han walked over, took off his cloak, and straightened the monument for the children.

The inscription on the monument reads: “Anle Village”.

“Peace and happiness…” Zhu Han murmured, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

Zhu Biao walked up to him and whispered, "The name sounds like a joke."

Zhu Han turned to look at him and smiled slightly: "But those who are alive should still smile."

The two looked at each other for a moment, then Zhu Biao raised his hand to signal the soldiers to stop the carriage: "Let the disaster victims be settled first."

Shen Lu directed his accompanying soldiers to distribute dry rations. The flour sacks piled on the carts were soaked through and emitted a musty smell when opened.

A minor official hurriedly knelt down: "Your Highness, these noodles were soaked by the rain the day before yesterday, and they are probably not edible."

Zhu Biao squatted down, pinched a handful of flour, gently brought it to his nose and smelled it, then frowned.

Zhu Han reached out and took it, laughing, "Boil it three times, then add wild vegetables, and it can save hundreds of lives."

"Does Uncle want to try it himself?" Zhu Biao asked.

"When they're hungry, they don't care about anything."

After Zhu Han finished speaking, he personally walked to the fire and ordered the soldiers to take pots and start a fire.

The firewood was damp after the rain, so he rolled up his sleeves, chopped it into thin strips with a knife, and then lit it.

The fire finally caught fire, the smoke from the stove was choking, and when the wind blew, ashes flew everywhere.

An old woman, covered in mud, approached, leading her grandson by the hand. She looked timidly at the fire, still clutching half a broken wooden bowl in her hands.

Zhu Han glanced at her and pointed to the fire: "Sit."

The old woman sat down tremblingly.

Before long, the batter in the pot boiled. Although it smelled bitter, it was mixed with the aroma of grass roots.

Zhu Han scooped up a bowl and handed it over: "It's hot, take your time."

The old woman took it with trembling hands, tears streaming down her face: "Sir... I haven't eaten anything hot in years."

Zhu Biao walked over and silently watched this scene.

He asked softly, "Uncle, aren't you afraid they'll resent us for being late?"

Zhu Han smiled and said, "They blame fate, not people."

Rain can fall from the sky, and people can start a fire. As long as the fire is there, they will not complain.

On this day, smoke rose again from the chimneys of the old village on the east side of the official road.

Soldiers and disaster victims sat together, cooking noodles in a pot and roasting taro by the fire.

After the burial was completed, the young man knelt down and kowtowed, his voice hoarse with sobs: "Thank you, my two benefactors."

Zhu Han slowly reached out and helped him up: "From now on, living is a blessing."

Zhu Biao walked to his side and asked in a low voice, "Uncle, how many have we managed to save along the way?"

Zhu Han was silent for a moment, then said, "Save one, that's one."

"What if the whole world is filled with suffering?"

"Then let's save them one day at a time."

Zhu Biao gazed at him, a sudden surge of inexplicable respect welling up within him. (End of Chapter)