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

Zhu Han nodded and said, "Downstream. I would like to go and see the situation on the river."

Commander Luo didn't ask any further questions and quickly said, "This subordinate will go and make preparations immediately."

Soon, three light boats were ready.

The boat is not large, but it is very fast. Its streamlined hull makes it very agile in the river breeze.

The boatmen were all veteran sailors from the shipbuilding camp; they were experienced and knew the situation on the river like the back of their hand.

Zhu Han boarded the ship with more than a dozen Imperial Guards.

A river breeze blew in my face, carrying a faint scent of the river, which invigorated me.

The ship quickly left the shore, and Longjiang Shipyard was gradually left behind.

The river widened and the boat sped eastward with the current.

On the distant river, there were many boats, some large merchant ships, like moving castles; others small cargo ships, like busy little bees, busily shuttling on the river.

Zhu Han stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes fixed on the front, not missing a single detail.

Suddenly, the boatman whispered, "Your Highness, there's a boat ahead."

Zhu Han looked in the direction he pointed and saw a medium-sized cargo ship on the river. Its sails were half-furled and its hull was hunched low, as if it were carrying a heavy burden.

Zhu Han narrowed his eyes, a hint of doubt rising in his heart, and said, "Get closer."

The three small boats slowly accelerated. The river wind was strong, and the sails were taut, making a "whooshing" sound.

Soon, the small boat caught up with the cargo ship.

The people on the boat also noticed them. A man stood at the bow and shouted, "What are you doing?"

The Imperial Guard immediately flashed his badge and loudly proclaimed, "Imperial Guard!"

The people on the boat immediately turned pale, as if they had seen a ghost; some panicked, while others tried to escape.

Some people wanted to unfurl the sails and speed up their escape, but Zhu Han raised his hand and decisively said, "Move closer."

The small boat, like an arrow released from a bow, quickly caught up with the large ship.

The Imperial Guards were swift and agile, like nimble cheetahs, and jumped onto the boat one after another.

The people on the boat didn't dare to resist and obediently surrendered.

The cabin was opened, revealing neatly stacked grain sacks, densely packed and stretching as far as the eye could see.

Zhu Han went inside, squatted down, and opened a bag. He saw that the rice grains were white and plump, exactly the same as those found in the city.

He turned to look at the boat owner, his eyes sharp as swords, and asked, "Where did you come from?"

The boat owner, pale-faced and with trembling lips, said, "It was received at Jiangkou."

Zhu Han then asked, "Who sold it?"

The man lowered his head, avoiding Zhu Han's gaze, and said, "I don't know, I really don't know. We just received the goods as instructed, and we know nothing else."

Zhu Han didn't ask any more questions. He walked out of the cabin. The wind on the river was strong, making his clothes flutter.

Two more boats sailed downstream in the distance, leaving trails of white foam on the river.

Zhu Han glanced at it and said, "Take him back to Longjiang."

The Imperial Guards immediately took action, subdued the people on the ship, and then turned the ship around.

Three small boats led the way, and the cargo ship slowly made its way back, like a captured prey helplessly heading towards Longjiang Shipyard.

The river continues to flow eastward, as if telling the story of this chase.

An hour later, the boat returned to Longjiang.

The soldiers on the riverbank all saw it and gathered around, whispering and discussing among themselves.

Commander Luo stepped forward and asked, "Your Highness, what's going on?"

Zhu Han pointed to the boat and said, "Investigate. Bring all these grain sacks ashore and examine them carefully to see if there are any other clues."

The grain sacks were quickly carried ashore; there were more than five hundred sacks in total, piled up into a small mountain.

People along the riverbank were watching, and some whispered among themselves, "How come there's so much grain?"

"The one escorted by the Embroidered Uniform Guard must have a problem."

"These people are incredibly audacious to transport grain on the river."

But no one dared to approach; they all stood at a distance, afraid of getting into trouble.

Zhu Han stood on the bank, looking at the pile of grain sacks, his brow furrowed, pondering: Who is behind this? What is their purpose in transporting the grain? Suddenly, he said, "There's more on the river."

Commander Luo was taken aback and asked, "What does Your Highness mean?"

Zhu Han looked at the river. The distant boat shadows were still moving, like stars in the night sky, twinkling uncertainly.

He said, "There's more than one ship going downstream. They must have other ships transporting grain."

Commander Luo frowned and said, "Should we seal off the river? Block off the river so they have nowhere to escape."

Zhu Han shook his head and said, "Don't seal it off. Sealing off the river now will only alert them and make them more prepared. We need to play the long game and see where they're actually going to transport the grain."

Commander Luo was stunned, but seeing Zhu Han's determined eyes, he didn't ask any more questions.

Zhu Han turned around and said, "Return to the city."

The carriage sped along, the sound of hooves echoing on the stone-paved streets of Yingtian City, finally stopping in front of the solemn and majestic palace gate.

Zhu Han dismounted, straightened his clothes, and strode towards the Wuying Hall.

Inside the Wuying Hall, the candlelight flickered, casting shadowy images of the furnishings.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat upright behind the table, his posture tall and his gaze deep and sharp, as if he could see through all the conspiracies and schemes in the world.

Zhu Biao stood quietly to the side, his posture as upright as a pine tree, his face calm, exuding an innate composure and elegance.

On the table, a brand-new map of the river was unfolded, with mountains, rivers, towns and passes clearly marked.

Zhu Han strode into the hall with steady steps, each step exuding an innate majesty and confidence.

Hearing footsteps, Zhu Yuanzhang slowly raised his head, his gaze sharp as he looked at Zhu Han, his voice deep and powerful: "Have you caught him?"

Zhu Han nodded slightly, his expression calm and resolute: "We caught them, five hundred bags."

Zhu Biao frowned slightly, pondering the complex situation hidden behind the scenes.

Zhu Yuanzhang simply smiled slightly, a smile that carried a hint of approval and expectation, as if everything was under his control.

Zhu Han continued, "Jiang Shang has already started walking."

After saying that, he walked straight to a chair and sat down, his demeanor calm and composed.

Upon seeing this, the palace maid hurriedly stepped forward and carefully served a steaming cup of tea.

Zhu Han picked up the teacup, blew on it gently, and then took a sip. The aroma of the tea spread in his mouth, causing him to squint his eyes slightly.

"Two were released," Zhu Han said slowly, setting down his teacup.

Zhu Biao was taken aback, a look of confusion on his face.

Zhu Yuanzhang laughed again, his laughter hearty and unrestrained, echoing throughout the hall: "Good, let's follow the clues!"

Zhu Han nodded slightly, his gaze firm: "Exactly."

Zhu Yuanzhang stood up and walked steadily to the map.

His fingers moved slowly eastward along the Yangtze River, as if touching the lifeline of the Ming Dynasty.

"Two hundred li downstream."

He said softly, pointing eastward, "Further east is Zhenjiang."

At this point, his finger stopped, and his gaze was fixed on that location on the map, as if he wanted to see through everything there.

The hall fell silent instantly, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Zhu Han stood quietly in front of the map, his gaze following the direction Zhu Yuanzhang was pointing, pondering the enormous power that might be involved behind it.

After a long silence, he slowly said, "If someone is collecting grain, the area won't be small." Zhu Yuanzhang nodded slightly, his expression growing increasingly solemn.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the hall, breaking the silence inside.

A member of the Imperial Guard strode into the hall, knelt on one knee, and said in an urgent yet respectful voice, "Your Majesty."

Zhu Yuanzhang raised his head, his gaze shooting like lightning at the Imperial Guard: "Speak."

The Imperial Guard knelt on the ground, his body trembling slightly, clearly bringing important news: "Another warehouse has been discovered in the south of the city."

Upon hearing this news, Zhu Han's gaze instantly fell upon the Imperial Guard, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes: "Where?"

“The old post station in Hexi,” the Imperial Guard hurriedly replied.

The hall fell silent again, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Zhu Yuanzhang smiled slowly, a smile tinged with mockery and disdain: "It seems we haven't finished searching for grain in the city yet."

Zhu Han smiled, his smile revealing determination and resolve: "Then let's keep looking."

After saying this, Zhu Han turned around and strode out of the Wuying Hall.

Outside the hall, the sunlight was intense and bright, casting a long shadow on him.

He mounted his horse, gave it a tug on the reins, and the horse neighed loudly as it galloped south of the city.

When Zhu Han arrived at the old post station in Hexi, it was nearly noon.

The scorching sun beat down relentlessly on the earth, baking the streets until they were scalding hot.

As soon as his horse turned into the street corner, the Imperial Guards guarding there immediately knelt on one knee and shouted in unison, "Prince Han!"

Zhu Han did not stop, and his horse galloped all the way to the old post station gate.

The post station gate stood there crookedly, its doors half-old and half-new, the paint peeling off in patches, clearly indicating that it had been hastily replaced recently.

A dozen or so Imperial Guards stood at the entrance, dressed in black flying fish robes, with embroidered spring knives at their waists, their expressions cold and serious.

There were also several soldiers from the Five Cities Garrison, dressed in ordinary military uniforms, holding long spears, and vigilantly watching their surroundings.

Upon seeing Zhu Han, the commander leading the group quickly stepped forward and knelt on one knee, saying, "Your Highness."

Zhu Han dismounted, tossed the reins to the attendant beside him, and then looked up at the plaque above the door.

The paint on the three characters "Hexi Post Station" had peeled off by half, making it look particularly dilapidated in the sunlight.

Zhu Han frowned and asked, "How many people are inside?"

The commander quickly replied, "Thirteen have been caught."

"Where is the grain?" Zhu Han's gaze swept across the post station, his eyes revealing an undeniable air of authority.

"It's still in the warehouse," the commander said.

Zhu Han nodded slightly: "Lead the way."

The gate to the post station was pushed open with a jarring creak.

Inside was a narrow courtyard paved with blue bricks. Due to years of disrepair, many weeds grew in the cracks between the bricks, swaying gently in the breeze.

Two oxcarts were parked in the corner of the yard, their tracks still fresh, indicating they had been used recently.

Several bound men knelt in the courtyard. They were dressed in ordinary merchant clothes. Some were pale and their foreheads were covered in cold sweat; others had their heads down and dared not look at anyone, their bodies trembling slightly.

Zhu Han ignored them and walked straight to the back.

Behind the courtyard was a row of warehouses, the doors of which had been pried open, and several Imperial Guards were struggling to carry out sacks of grain.

Bags of white rice were piled up in the yard, growing higher and higher, like a small mountain.

Zhu Han walked to the warehouse door. The warehouse was dimly lit and filled with a faint aroma of rice.

He stepped inside, his feet sinking into thick layers of rice husks that made a rustling sound as he walked.

The granary was piled high with grain sacks, all the way up to the beams and pillars, leaving only a narrow passage.

He casually grabbed a bag and saw that the rice grains were white and plump, exactly the same as those he had caught in Longjiang.

Zhu Han stood there, quietly observing everything around him.

After a while, the commander whispered, "Your Highness, this warehouse contains about eight hundred bags."

Zhu Han remained silent, his gaze sweeping across the warehouse.

Suddenly, he noticed several wooden crates in the corner of the warehouse. The crates had been pried open, and their contents were scattered around.

He stepped forward and found that it contained account books.

Upon seeing this, the Imperial Guards quickly handed over the account books.

Zhu Han took the ledger, opened it, and saw that the pages were very new, with only two words written on them—"received" and "disbursed"—but the dates were clearly written.

He quickly flipped to the last page, where it read: Three days ago, the ship set sail—seven.

Zhu Han closed the ledger, a chill running through his eyes: "Where are they?"

The commander immediately waved his hand, and the thirteen people kneeling in the courtyard were brought over.

A middle-aged man was pushed to the front, his face covered in sweat, his eyes revealing a hint of fear and panic.

Zhu Han glanced at him, his voice deep and authoritative: "Who is in charge?"

No one spoke; the courtyard was completely silent, save for the gentle sound of the breeze.

Seeing this, the Imperial Guard kicked the middle-aged man in the back of the knee, and the man immediately fell to his knees, his body crashing heavily to the ground with a thud.

"Speak," the Imperial Guard said coldly, his sword slightly drawn, its blade gleaming in the sunlight.

The man fell to his knees, his body trembling, his voice trembling with a sob: "This humble subject... was merely a granary watcher."

Zhu Han stared intently at him: "Where did the grain come from?"

"A grain store in the city," the man quickly replied.

"Which one?" Zhu Han pressed on.

The man hesitated for a moment, a hint of doubt in his eyes.

The Imperial Guard's sword was already fully drawn, and the glint of the blade flashed before his eyes. He was immediately terrified, his face turning pale. He quickly lowered his head and said, "Dexing... Yufeng... and... there are three more."

Zhu Han nodded slightly: "Who gave you permission to accept it?"

The man fell silent, head bowed, body trembling slightly, unable to answer.

Zhu Han looked at him, asked no further questions, and simply handed the ledger to the Imperial Guard: "Take it back."

The Imperial Guards immediately put away the ledgers and stood aside, watching their surroundings warily.

The grain sacks piled up in the yard, becoming visible all over the street.

Nearby residents peeked through their windows, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity, but no one dared to speak.

Zhu Han walked to the door and suddenly stopped.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats came from afar, growing clearer and clearer as it approached.

A troop of cavalry was approaching quickly, led by Lan Yu.

Lan Yu, clad in armor, rode a tall warhorse, exuding a heroic and dashing air.

Upon seeing Zhu Han, he quickly dismounted, strode up to Zhu Han, and knelt on one knee: "Your Highness."

Zhu Han nodded slightly: "Has the south of the city been investigated?"

Lan Yu stood up and said, "We've checked four streets." He pointed into the distance, "There are still two warehouses left."

Zhu Han asked, "Is there plenty of grain?"

Lan Yu smiled, a hint of confidence on her face: "Even more than that."

Zhu Han nodded slightly: "Go take a look." (End of this chapter)