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

Around midnight, the post road opposite the "Saihu Inn" outside the west city was crisscrossed with cart tracks. Li Gong, carrying a box on his back and with snow and sleet covering his shoulders, walked steadily.

A man was standing under an old willow tree ahead, wearing a fox fur shawl; it was the same skinny man from last night.

He tossed a log with one hand, like tossing a child's toy.

"Didn't you bring your crossbow today?" Li Gong asked.

"Bringing one wouldn't help you anyway," the skinny man laughed. "This time I'm bringing a mouthpiece."

"Speak." Li Gong placed the box on the stone stool and tossed over half of the fish-shaped tally. "What you wanted is here."

The skinny man caught the fish tally, squeezed it, and stuffed it into his sleeve. He said in a calm and unhurried tone, "We need to go through three passes. The goods will be exchanged for people at Yanmen, carriages at Juyong Pass, and horses at Zijing Pass. For each exchange, your people only need to watch from afar."

He drawled out the last two words, "From a distance."

"Are you afraid of getting lost?" Li Gong asked.

"I'm afraid you'll get too close," the skinny man said. "If you get too close, my men will lose contact. If they lose contact, you'll have to start looking for people all over again, which is a hassle. I don't like trouble."

Li Gong hummed in agreement: "From a distance."

“There’s one more thing,” the skinny man said in a very low voice.

“I don’t care if you play with fire in the capital. I also don’t care whose property was burned when the fire was set at the Meridian Gate. But if you set fire to the pass—then I will take charge.”

"I'll deliver your line; don't ask me about the city."

Li Gong said calmly, "Don't ask me about this in the city either."

The two exchanged a glance and said nothing more.

The skinny man raised his chin and waved his hand to the right. Two people emerged from behind the reeds, picked up the box, and disappeared into the snow at a leisurely pace.

"You want to see?" the skinny man asked.

“From a distance.” Li Gong brushed the snow off his shoulder. “If it breaks before midnight on the third day, I will know. If it doesn’t—you will know too.”

There was a hint of coldness in his words. The skinny man raised an eyebrow, his smile fading slightly: "Interesting."

Li Gong turned around, not looking at him again, and walked back, stepping on the snow tracks.

He drove sideways, and when he crossed the icy ditch, he paused and looked back.

The skinny man had gone far away, leaving only the fox fur tail swaying in the wind, like a gently brushing pen.

It was midnight in the alley outside the Meridian Gate.

Chen Shu, a censor from the Censorate, held a densely written memorial in his hand, his nose red from the cold.

He trembled twice and was about to knock on the door when a hand reached out from the darkness and pressed down on his hand holding the folding book.

"Who!" Chen Shu gasped in surprise.

"I'll give you a piece of advice," the man said in a low voice, "If you get a single hour or an item wrong during today's Meridian Gate fire inspection, there will be two more sedan chairs waiting in front of your house tomorrow. One from the Censorate and one from the Ministry of Justice."

Chen Shu felt a chill run down his spine: "You...who are you?"

"No need to know." The man released his grip. "Go."

As Chen Shu was about to ask a question, someone came out from inside the door and shouted, "Who's making noise outside!"

He quickly bowed to avoid it and hurried inside.

The hand rolled up its sleeve, revealing a ring of very faint gray around the fingertips, like an invisible layer of ink.

The hand quickly retracted into the darkness, leaving no trace.

At four in the morning, in the study of the Marquis of Nan'an's residence.

Hao Duiying placed a bamboo slip on the table: "The coded message from Yanmen Pass—'Unbroken'."

"Juyong Pass?" Zhu Han asked.

"Not broken."

"Bauhinia?"

"Not broken. — They're all moving."

Zhu Han nodded, stacked the three bamboo slips together, and gently folded them in place. "Good."

“Your Highness,” Hao Duiying hesitated, “Should we just keep observing from afar and not move?”

"Move it here." Zhu Han pointed to the small seal box on the table. "Once the three seals are aligned, we only need to verify them once, and they will know we know. At that moment, they will panic on their own."

"What about in the city?"

“Something’s happening in the city,” Zhu Han said. “Lu Ting’s ‘private talisman’ has been burned, and his hand has been partially removed. He’ll be going to ask someone for help tonight.”

"Who?"

“The Right Chief Secretary of the Imperial Clan Court.” Zhu Han looked out the window. “He has old family genealogies and can trace back to the ‘collateral branches’.”

"If the collateral branches want to rise up, they have to suppress the crown prince first." Hao Duiying said bitterly, "Does he dare?"

"Whether he dares to or not is not up to him." Zhu Han put away the seal box. "It's up to us."

How do we stop them?

"Tomorrow at 1:00 AM," Zhu Han said calmly. "At the Fengtian Hall, I will have the Ministry of Rites publicly read a line of the old document from the 'collateral branch' incorrectly."

"Misread?" Hao Duiying was stunned. "This..."

"If you misread a line, you have to go back to the Imperial Ancestral Temple to check it again. If you go back to the Imperial Ancestral Temple to check it again, today's situation can be sustained for another day."

Zhu Han looked at him and said, "Day after day, three days later, the 'collateral branch' will eventually die out."

Hao Duiying then understood and couldn't help but laugh: "Your Highness, you've also made a mark."

"The fire isn't at the Meridian Gate," Zhu Han said, closing the memorial. "It's in their hearts."

At 9:00 AM, at the Fengtian Hall.

The officials stood solemnly, and the Minister of Rites, holding an old genealogy book, read out the branch names as was customary.

When he read the line about "a certain king from a collateral branch", he suddenly paused for half a word, then read the next life of "a certain king" as the ranking of the previous life.

Those who understood immediately changed color, and even those who didn't know something was wrong.

Zhu Han, unhurriedly, raised his hand: "The genealogy is incorrect; we will verify it at the Imperial Ancestral Temple."

"Return to the Imperial Ancestral Temple for verification—" Dozens of voices responded in succession. The Right Chief Secretary of the Imperial Clan Court was ashen-faced, barely able to speak: "Mistake, mistake, mistake..."

"One wrong word can lead to disaster," Zhu Han said calmly. "You should first copy it ten times behind closed doors."

The courtiers bowed and chorused their agreement. Zhu Biao sat firmly on his throne, his eyes displaying only a slit of calm.

After the court session ended, Lu Ting was stopped outside the palace gate by the Minister of Rites: "Prime Minister Lu, do not touch the old documents. Touching them is destroying evidence."

Lu Ting's lips trembled slightly. He bowed and stepped back, feeling as if a piece of his heart had been ripped out.

Evening, in a side room behind Yonghe Hall.

Zhu Biao took his seat on time, lit incense, got up on time, and returned to the corridor on time.

Back inside, he took off his plain clothes and changed back into his everyday clothes, running his fingers over the barely noticeable marks on the door frame as if caressing an old object.

Zhu Han emerged from the shadows, his gaze falling on the tip of his finger: "Got it?"

“I’ve remembered,” Zhu Biao said. “I didn’t take the steps at the middle gate today.”

"Don't leave tomorrow either," Zhu Han said. "The day after tomorrow, after you ascend the throne, enter through the middle gate."

"Was that possible then?" Zhu Biao asked.

“Okay.” Zhu Han nodded. “By then, they won’t be able to count them anymore.”

"Uncle," Zhu Biao suddenly whispered, "if one day I let you enter through the middle gate, would you take it?"

Zhu Han glanced at him, his smile faint: "Let's go."

“I know you won’t,” Zhu Biao smiled, but his smile was even fainter. “That’s why I won’t say that.”

He suppressed his smile. "Uncle, shall we go to the Meridian Gate again tomorrow?"

“Go,” Zhu Han said. “There are still two wooden imprints that Lu Ting needs to see in person.”

"He'll hate you after he reads this."

"Let him hate." Zhu Han closed the door a crack. "If he hates, he won't dare to love anyone else."

Night, north of the city.

A pigeon arrived at Yanmen Pass, its leg bound with an extremely thin red thread. When untied, it revealed four characters: "Returning from all three places."

A pigeon arrived at Juyong Pass and wrote: "Bai San is missing."

Zijinglaige: "The fox fur is missing."

After reading the message aloud, Hao looked up and said, "That skinny guy—"

"He's changed course." Zhu Han folded the paper. "He's not playing anymore." "Should we still follow?"

"Let's watch from a distance," Zhu Han said. "If he doesn't want to play, let him watch us play."

The wind outside the window stopped for a moment, then picked up again.

A faint fragrance wafted in the air—ambergris, a common incense used in the palace. It seemed to drift from some palace, trying to seep into every crack in the window.

Zhu Han closed the window and turned around: "Let's rest. Tomorrow at the Meridian Gate, the fire will be an inch bigger."

"The fire is still burning?" Hao laughed at Ying. "The Meridian Gate is practically your own personal brazier."

"Burn until they forget who started the fire," Zhu Han said, adjusting his sleeves. "That's enough."

He took two steps outside, then turned back: "Remember, you are only allowed to say one sentence in court tomorrow."

"Which sentence?" Hao asked Ying.

“It’s fake, burn it,” Zhu Han said.

Hao responded to Ying, his smile fading from his eyes.

The morning wind was a bit stronger. The eaves beasts of Fengtian Hall were covered in frost, like a row of cold, hard armored soldiers.

The golden bricks in front of the hall still bore traces of ash from last night's brazier. When water was splashed on them, the ash dissolved and flowed into the cracks.

"Your Highness, the night reports from Yanmen, Zijing, and Juyong have all arrived."

Hao Duiying arrived, her footsteps wet with dew, and lowered her voice, "There's no broken line. The man with the fox fur is gone; he might have returned to Yan."

Whether I return or not is none of my business.

Zhu Han put on his coat and went out from under the eaves, saying, "The fire in the city hasn't been extinguished yet."

"The censor from the Censorate, Chen Shu, circled the Meridian Gate twice at night, and finally wrote down the actual time and items."

Hao Duiying paused for a moment, then said, "Someone in the shadows startled him."

"That's enough for the fright." Zhu Han stopped in his tracks. "Today it's the Imperial Clan Court's turn."

He glanced at the sky: "At the beginning of the day, the registers are opened in the palace; at the middle of the day, the edicts are read; after the day, the official schools perform the sacrifices—these are the three pillars. If any one of them is crooked, we have to start over."

"They worked on that line of text in the genealogy until the wee hours last night."

Hao sneered at Ying, "The Right Chief Secretary is guarding the Ink Pond and refusing to leave, as if he's guarding his life."

“He’s guarding the road,” Zhu Han said calmly. “By pushing the side branches up, the road will widen. — I’ll make the road a little narrower.”

At the first quarter of the hour of Si (9-11 AM), in the Fengtian Hall.

The Minister of Rites stood holding the register, while the Right Chief Secretary of the Imperial Clan Court held the old document, his face as white as paper.

The officials of the Secretariat lined up, the Censorate stood in the west wing, and the Embroidered Uniform Guards changed shifts outside the gate, their sword hilts frosted with a continuous thread.

Zhu Biao has taken his place. He wears a plain court robe, and his jade pendants are silent.

His gaze was calm as he sat down in rhythm with his fingers, his cuffs neatly folded inwards, perfectly positioned at the corner of the table.

"Open the register." With Zhu Han's words, the Minister of Rites lifted the seal. The first line was the lineage of the founding emperor, the second line was the crown prince, the third line was the princes, and then the collateral branches were listed.

The Right Chief Secretary's Adam's apple bobbed slightly: "Your subject... respectfully reads the old document."

He was about to speak when Zhu Han raised his hand: "Wait a minute."

A deathly silence fell over the hall.

"The genealogy was checked once at the ancestral temple, and then again last night."

Zhu Han looked at him and asked, "What did you test?"

The Right Chief Secretary forced a smile: "Your Majesty, I have checked for misspellings, variant names, and incorrect years."

“You forgot the ‘Record of Marrying Abroad’.”

Zhu Han said calmly, "In the records of marriage outside the family, a certain branch mistakenly identified a concubine as the legitimate wife. Once the legitimate wife's order was changed, the order of the collateral branches was also wrong. If you read it this way, the patriarchal system of this dynasty will become a joke."

The Right Chief Secretary's face paled even more: "Your Majesty... Your Majesty, I will verify this again."

"Let's verify it now." Zhu Han pointed. "There's a copy at the Imperial Ancestral Temple; the Ministry of Rites will retrieve it. The Imperial Clan Court will collect the copy on your desk, seal it, and stamp it with their seal."

"Yes, sir." The Minister of Rites bowed and withdrew. Two officials from the Imperial Clan Court stepped forward and sealed the old document in the Right Chief Secretary's hand. Zhu Han then turned around: "Secretariat, draft the document."

The Imperial Secretary stepped forward, laid out the paper, ground the ink, and the brush trembled slightly.

After hesitating for a long time, the Right Chief Secretary finally managed to say, "Your Highness, doing this in public... may damage my integrity as a subject."

"In whose room were you writing last night?"

Zhu Han ignored him and asked, "When will you finish writing?"

The Right Chief Secretary's eyelids twitched, and he knew that the other party knew everything.

He pressed his knees: "At midnight, Prime Minister Lu reviewed it."

“You showed him that it was you who hurt his integrity,” Zhu Han said calmly. “It wasn’t me.”

The Right Chief Secretary made a "gulp" sound in his throat, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of hard snow.

The Minister of Rites quickly returned, bringing a copy of the ancestral temple document.

When the two copies were compared, the difference was immediately apparent—the name of a certain prince from a collateral branch had been mistakenly moved, and a thin red circle had been added to the side of the page, around which were the words "second son".

"Who circled it?" Zhu Han asked.

The Right Chief Secretary did not answer. Someone coughed from the Censorate.

Zhu Han turned his head: "Does the censor have something to say?"

The official's fingers trembled slightly inside his sleeve as he stepped forward with a forced smile: "...I believe that genealogy should not be debated in the palace."

“Yes.” Zhu Han nodded. “That’s why I only asked ‘who circled it.’ If you don’t tell me, I’ll take your case.”

Chen Shu's lips turned white, and he finally shut his mouth. The Right Chief Secretary, as if whipped, suddenly knelt down: "Your subject—Quan."

"Why circle?" Zhu Han asked.

"Prime Minister Lu instructed that this be kept for future reference." The Right Chief Secretary almost gritted his teeth. "Your subject dares not disobey."

"Very good." Zhu Han took the page down and placed it on the table.
"Ministry of Rites, make a new copy based on the one made at the Imperial Ancestral Temple, and correct any errors in the collateral branches. The Right Chief Secretary of the Imperial Clan Court shall be suspended from his post immediately pending further instructions."

Two Imperial Guards stepped forward and restrained the Right Chief Secretary.

The Right Chief Secretary struggled for a moment, but finally succumbed and lowered his head, and was taken away.

When he reached the entrance of the palace, he turned back and glanced at Zhu Biao, his eyes filled with turmoil.

"Read the document." Zhu Han withdrew his gaze. "According to the copy from the Imperial Ancestral Temple."

The Minister of Rites cleared his throat and read on in a level tone.

The atmosphere in the hall returned to a steady rhythm, like the smoothing of silk as it unfurled.

After reading it, Zhu Han said, "That's enough for today. — Disperse."

He calmly returned to Zhu Biao's seat and whispered, "Go down and walk along the corridor, don't go through the middle gate."

Zhu Biao grunted in acknowledgment, stood up, kowtowed towards the ancestral tablet, and then stepped out of the hall.

In the afternoon, the brazier at the Meridian Gate was lit again.

It wasn't a big deal; it was just about burning two old private tallies that had been collected from the Imperial Clan Court's desk. The fire-maker's hands moved the fork steadily and slowly.

Lu Ting glanced at it from afar, his eyes seemingly coated with a layer of white.

"My lord," the young boy beside him asked tremblingly, "shall we go back?"

Lu Ting didn't move. After a long while, he exhaled and said, "Go to the Imperial Clan Court."

"The Right Chief Secretary is not here."

"Find the Left Deputy Chief Secretary," Lu Ting said in a low voice. "Have him copy the 'collateral branches' section, change a small note in one line, and don't use red circles, use gray ink instead."

"Gray ink is not accepted."

"It's best if they can't get in," Lu Ting sneered. "It'll prevent them from catching us."

The child didn't dare to respond.

The two had just walked a short distance from the Meridian Gate when a person suddenly appeared from the corner of the alley. He was wearing a dark cloak with the brim of his hat pulled low, but his steps were extremely steady.

As soon as the person arrived, he flicked his cloak, revealing half of his face.

"Prime Minister Lu," Zhu Han said in a low voice, "Don't go out at night."

Lu Ting was slightly taken aback: "Your Highness's meaning—"

"The Censorate will issue an imperial edict on your account tonight." (End of Chapter)