Chapter Nineteen: The Butterfly's Wings — A Father Recognized as a Brother

Imperial Study.

Jiang Huan entered and whispered in Zhu Yuanzhang’s ear, “Your Majesty, Young Lord Zhu has sent someone to ask for an audience with you.”

Zhu Yuanzhang looked up, amusement flickering in his eyes. “At a time like this, that brat doesn’t hide away but instead dares to ask for me? Isn’t he afraid I, as Emperor, might have him killed?”

“Lord Zhu has activated all his hidden agents in the capital. He may have already tracked down Prince Qin by now,” Jiang Huan replied, sidestepping the question.

“Oh? Does he intend to take part in the succession struggle as well?” A dangerous glint flashed in Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes.

Zhu Yang was only a newly minted provincial graduate and already getting involved—how much more so those ambitious ministers in court, who must be forming alliances everywhere.

Zhu Yuanzhang fell silent, deep in thought. It seems I haven’t killed enough. The case of Hu Weiyong—I had thought to let it end there, but perhaps it’s time to put it to use again.

Jiang Huan had no idea what Zhu Yuanzhang was thinking, but still offered an explanation for Zhu Yang’s behavior: “Young Lord Zhu is likely trying to help the Crown Prince. After all, rumors outside say Zhu Yang is the Crown Prince’s illegitimate son.”

“Ah, I’d forgotten that detail!” Zhu Yuanzhang came to himself and ordered, “Fetch me a few sets of clothes. I’ll go see that rascal right now. I hope he doesn’t disappoint me! Also, deploy all our spies in each princely residence. I want to know what every minister is up to at this very moment.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jiang Huan responded with a salute.

...

As Zhu Yuanzhang and Jiang Huan left the palace—

In the Eastern Palace.

Wang Pu, the Crown Prince’s personal eunuch, entered and reported, “Your Highness, His Majesty has just left the palace!”

“Hm?” Zhu Biao put down his book, puzzled. “What does Father’s departure have to do with me? He’s left the palace before—why come to report it specially this time?”

“This time is different, Your Highness. With rumors spreading and not only has His Majesty not punished Prince Qin, but has even gone out to see him—perhaps...” Wang Pu said anxiously.

“Insolence!” Zhu Biao gazed at the eunuch who’d grown up by his side with deep disappointment. “I have treated you with nothing but kindness. Why betray me?”

Although the Embroidered Uniform Guard had already traced the root of the rumors to Prince Qin, only Jiang Huan, Zhu Yuanzhang, and Zhu Biao knew this in the entire palace.

Zhu Yuanzhang would never spread it; Jiang Huan, had he not kept his mouth shut, would have died a hundred times by now. As for Zhu Biao, he would never publicize such a thing himself.

For a eunuch who had never set foot outside the palace to know such a secret, there could only be one explanation: he’d been bought.

“You wish to sow suspicion between my father and me, so that I panic and seek desperate measures, making more and more mistakes, until Father loses faith in me and ultimately deposes me. Or perhaps you want me to do as Liu Ju or Li Shimin did—lead the palace guards to surround the imperial city in a coup?” Zhu Biao said coldly. “Speak. Who bought you?”

“N-no...your servant only wished to remind you, Your Highness!” Wang Pu hastily knelt, forehead pressed to the ground, feigning terror. Yet inwardly, he wondered: Why is the Crown Prince’s reaction so different from what I was told? Wasn’t he supposed to summon the scholars and the three tutors for counsel immediately?

Zhu Biao closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. “Enough. I don’t care to know who’s behind you, and I don’t wish to see you again. Attendants—”

“Your Highness, please, don’t drive me away! I still wish to serve you!” Wang Pu pleaded, sneaking a glance up at Zhu Biao, a trace of triumph in his eyes. As expected, the Crown Prince is soft-hearted. Even now, he’s only expelling me from the palace. But it doesn’t matter. That man promised me that when he ascends the throne, I shall be made supervisor of the Imperial Treasury—and perhaps, one day, reach the Directorate of Ceremonies.

“Heh...” Zhu Biao caught the look in Wang Pu’s eyes and let out a self-mocking laugh. He had always believed that if he acted according to propriety, treated his brothers kindly, they would respect him, and one day become his support, working together for the good of Ming.

But he had forgotten: there is no true brotherly love in the imperial house. He could act the elder brother, but could younger brothers, with their eye on the throne, ever truly submit? On the surface, perhaps, but in secret, they must be hoping for his early death.

“If you refuse to leave, then be caned to death,” Zhu Biao declared softly. “Right at the gate of the Eastern Palace.”

Zhu Biao disliked Zhu Yuanzhang’s habit of killing, but he disliked killing by his own hand even more. He never suspected others of ill will; when handling state affairs, he would have the Ministry of Justice and the High Court repeatedly verify evidence before executing a prisoner. Only those guilty of heinous crimes would he order put to death; the rest were sentenced to exile or hard labor.

Zhu Biao had always believed in the innate goodness of man.

But as he listened to Wang Pu’s wailing, Zhu Biao wondered if perhaps he had been too naive.

...

Outside the palace walls, a young eunuch came running.

He approached Zhu Yuanzhang. “Your Majesty, the Crown Prince has just had his personal eunuch, Wang Pu, caned to death!”

This eunuch was Zhu Yuanzhang’s own spy in the Eastern Palace—not to monitor Zhu Biao, but out of a father’s concern. Knowing that his own views often clashed with his son’s, Zhu Yuanzhang feared Zhu Biao might take things to heart, so he stationed a eunuch to keep an eye on him. If Zhu Biao seemed upset, he could rush over and clear up any misunderstandings between them.

Zhu Yuanzhang was silent for a moment, then sighed. “It’s hard on my Biao’er.”

“Convey my message,” Zhu Yuanzhang instructed. “Tell Biao’er to change his clothes and come with me to meet Zhu Yang.”

...

In a small courtyard, Zhu Yang listened to Liu Yuan’s report, learning that Prince Qin was behind the rumors and realizing how to break the deadlock—but it would require Old Huang’s help.

“I hope Old Huang is up to the task and can persuade Zhu Yuanzhang,” Zhu Yang prayed silently. Otherwise, he could only watch as Zhu Yuanzhang massacred the rioters.

“You brat, what do you want me here for? Don’t you know I’m busy?” Zhu Yuanzhang bellowed as he entered the gate. “I hear you ranked first in the provincial exam—congratulations!”

“Congratulations? What’s there to celebrate? If not for that, would I be trembling in fear here?” Zhu Yang shot Zhu Yuanzhang a glare, then caught sight of the middle-aged man beside him. “Who’s this? Your son?”

“Yes, that’s my son, Huang Da,” Zhu Yuanzhang replied.

Zhu Biao’s mouth twitched at the name, thinking: Father, in front of my own child, could you have picked a better alias? Where’s my dignity?

“Huang Da? That’s a pretty random name,” Zhu Yang snorted, but his eyes were keenly assessing Zhu Biao.

“Tsk, there’s actually someone in this world who looks as handsome as I do!” Zhu Yang circled Zhu Biao, marveling. “It’s like seeing myself in my thirties.”

“Hey, that’s true!” Zhu Yuanzhang pretended to be surprised, glancing back and forth between Zhu Yang and Zhu Biao before saying mischievously, “Didn’t you once ask me at the Scholar’s Tower why people resemble their close relatives and not, say, the guy next door—unless, of course, that man is your father? Now you and my Huang Da look so alike—could you two be related?”

No sooner had Zhu Yuanzhang spoken than Zhu Biao felt oddly nervous. If Zhu Yang acknowledged me now, should I give him a hug or a jade pendant? Oh no, did I bring the best one with me?

Zhu Yang rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just say your son is my fath—”

Zhu Biao quickly interrupted, “Ah, my dear son—”

Zhu Yang: ...What’s with this man? Is he trying to take advantage of me?

Zhu Biao: ...Is this an acknowledgement or not? Why does it feel ambiguous?

Zhu Yuanzhang: ...What are these two up to? Do they know each other’s identities? Why am I lost here?

Jiang Huan: ...I’m just a backdrop. I know nothing, I see nothing. Mustn’t laugh. Hold it in!

Liu Yuan: ...Oh heavens, what am I witnessing? Has young master found his real father?

...

“Ahem, Brother Huang, you’re being shameless. Just because we look alike, don’t think you can take advantage of me!” Zhu Yang faked a cough to break the silence.

Zhu Biao apologized, crestfallen. “It’s just, I haven’t seen my eldest son in so long—I miss him.” So he hasn’t recognized me after all. I’m being foolish. I could cry.

“Your eldest son isn’t at home?” Zhu Yang asked.

“Ah...sigh...it’s my fault. I lost him!” Zhu Yuanzhang, seeing the dejection in Zhu Biao’s eyes, patted his back and said, “Those human traffickers are hateful. I just turned around for a second and my eldest grandson was gone.”

“How about this,” Zhu Yuanzhang suggested. “You look so much like my Huang Da. Why don’t you recognize me as your god-grandfather? I’ll have another grandson, and when you become an official, I’ll have someone to watch over you.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll fight your real grandson for the inheritance?” Zhu Yang teased.

In Ming, some adopted sons were mere household servants, while others could stand as equals to real sons.

“What’s to fear? My estate is big enough for all!” Zhu Yuanzhang declared grandly.

“Forget it. The bigger the estate, the more trouble,” Zhu Yang waved him off. “Look at the Emperor’s vast holdings. All his sons but the Crown Prince have been enfeoffed, and still, some aren’t content and seek to snatch more.”

“Come to think of it, His Majesty is truly prolific. As emperor, busy as he is, he still managed twenty-six sons and sixteen daughters. Remarkable! If he weren’t emperor, but a rich man with nothing to do but father children, he could populate an entire nation!” Zhu Yang sighed. “But alas, such fecundity isn’t necessarily a blessing—the people will suffer for it.”

Both Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao looked up at him.

Zhu Yuanzhang said, “That’s a new perspective. Isn’t it good for the imperial house to flourish? Haven’t the ministers always prayed for royal heirs in abundance?”

“Prosperity is one thing, but don’t let that prosperity become a burden on the people,” Zhu Yang countered. “Your Majesty enfeoffs the princes, and they in turn have sons. Suppose each of the twenty-five princes has five sons—that’s 125 more. The legitimate heir inherits the title, the rest become county princes, and so on. Each son must marry, take concubines... Within three generations, the princely estates will be too crowded. Either the palaces must be expanded, or the non-heirs sent away...”

“Worse, all these royals draw stipends—from where? The people’s taxes. How much revenue does Ming collect each year? Likely, half of it goes to support the imperial clan. And can you guarantee all these princes are upright? If one is greedy and abuses his stipend, seizing land—remember, their land is tax exempt.”

“As tax-exempt land grows, Ming’s tax revenue shrinks. The people? Without land, they starve. The officials, unable to collect enough taxes, squeeze the remaining peasants harder—moving their quotas onto those who still have land. And so the cycle continues... What will become of Ming then?”

Zhu Yang’s words plunged Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao into deep thought.

“Is there a solution?” Zhu Yuanzhang asked, sensing that his original plan to enfeoff princes for security may have been a mistake.

Zhu Yang shook his head. “A solution? Ha... How could I have one? Your Majesty values kinship—who would dare propose a fix? This must be left to future emperors. Let’s hope that one is both able and wise, and that capable ministers stand ready to assist. Reform always comes at a price.”

Zhu Yunwen tried to curtail the princes’ power, but rushed and friendless, he failed, and Zhu Di’s rebellion succeeded.

Zhu Di, upon taking the throne, also reduced the princes’ powers, but only their military and administrative rights. Their influence remained. Perhaps, fearing another Zhu Di, he dared not go further.

“If a price must be paid, then...” Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao both looked intently at Zhu Yang. As eldest grandson, as son, this burden shall be yours.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Zhu Yang felt the weight of their gaze—a sense of impending doom.

“Nothing. Just do your best!” Zhu Yuanzhang clapped Zhu Yang on the shoulder.

“Indeed. But don’t worry—your godfather will help you!” Zhu Biao, aping Zhu Yuanzhang, patted Zhu Yang’s other shoulder.

Zhu Yang looked at the two father and son, bewildered. “Do my best? Help me? I know the words, but what do you mean?”

“Wait—who said I agreed to call you godfather?” Zhu Yang exclaimed. “It’s our first meeting, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Since we look alike, we must share an ancestor. Better we swear brotherhood!”

“Brotherhood?” Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao’s faces darkened in unison. They glanced around—where’s my cudgel? I must thrash this unfilial scoundrel today.

Jiang Huan kept his head bowed, struggling not to laugh, succeeding only in part.

Damn, why did I ever agree to be commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard? Heaven help me!