Chapter Four: It's All Over (Part Two)

Although Zhu Yang had bid the scholars good night, he did not return to his own room. Instead, he ascended to the elegant chamber on the second floor of the Scholar’s Tower.

“Ah, I am simply too kind-hearted. With so many grandchildren to choose from, I insist on starting afresh with my own son…” Zhu Yang hid by the window, gazing at the group of scholars below who had fallen into deep thought, unable to help but sigh.

“Kind-hearted? You have the nerve to call yourself kind-hearted?” Zhu Yuanzhang came up the stairs with Jiang Huan. Hearing Zhu Yang’s sigh, his expression darkened at once. He realized this boy, who might well be his eldest grandson, was certainly no innocent.

“Come now, old Huang, don’t talk nonsense. Otherwise I’ll accuse you of slander!” Zhu Yang replied. “Besides, old Huang, it’s getting late. You should head home, or your family will worry about you.”

“Just a moment ago you threatened me with slander, and now you’re trying to chase me out? I knew you were up to no good!” Zhu Yuanzhang said, amused yet exasperated.

“Out with it, tell me—why did you pose those four strange questions?” Zhu Yuanzhang entered the chamber, poured himself a cup of water, and drained it in one gulp. He had eaten too many sunflower seeds just now, and his mouth was dry.

“I’m kind-hearted, you see. I didn’t enforce the wager and make everyone call me grandfather!” Zhu Yang said.

“Enough, I’ve lived long enough to see all sorts. You think you can fool me? Speak, or I’ll tell the Duke of Wei you openly teased his third sister today!” Zhu Yuanzhang threatened.

“Duke of Wei’s third sister?” Zhu Yang asked in confusion.

He knew the Duke of Wei was Xu Hui-zu, eldest son of Xu Da—a renowned general who met his downfall thanks to Zhu Yunwen. After the War of Jingnan, Xu Hui-zu was confined to his mansion by Zhu Di and died there, due to their conflicting loyalties.

“What about his third sister? I don’t even know her. How could I have teased her? Let’s be reasonable here!” Zhu Yang insisted.

“Don’t know her?” Zhu Yuanzhang looked at Zhu Yang with a sly smile. “You claim not to know her, yet you know her maiden name, and even drew a portrait using her name. I saw it with my own eyes. That portrait was identical to the Duke of Wei’s third sister!”

“Nonsense, that was clearly my…” Zhu Yang suddenly recalled an obscure historical account he’d read before his journey. It claimed Xu Da’s third daughter was named Xu Miaojin. After Zhu Di lost his wife, he tried to bring Xu Miaojin into the palace as empress. Yet Xu Miaojin preferred to become a nun rather than accept, spending her life in solitude with only the Buddha for company.

“She… she… is her name Xu Miaojin?” Zhu Yang stammered.

“Yes, Xu Miaojin! Her eldest sister, Xu Miaoyun, is the Princess Consort of Yan. Boy, you’re doomed!” Zhu Yuanzhang laughed heartily.

“I’m finished…” Zhu Yang slumped to the floor, desperate to escape. The poems he composed and the words he spoke today would surely spread through the streets of Ying Tian by morning.

Even with a dozen tongues, he could not explain himself; he would certainly be torn to pieces by the Duke of Wei’s household.

At that moment, Zhu Yang had no idea that Xu Miaojin had been among the crowd when he wrote his poem and painted, hearing everything he said—and she had run home in tears.

…

“How about this: if you tell me why you asked those four strange questions, I’ll help you!” Zhu Yuanzhang offered.

“You?” Zhu Yang glanced at him sidelong. “Old Huang, don’t take it personally, but the Duke of Wei is the greatest noble in Ming. Aside from His Majesty, no one can save me!”

“Hah! So you look down on me? Let me tell you, I am currently His Majesty’s favorite, and I’ll share a secret: His Majesty owes me a favor. If I call in that favor, he will surely agree!” Zhu Yuanzhang declared.

“A favor?” Zhu Yang stood up and circled Zhu Yuanzhang, finding nothing special about him.

“No need for your favor!” Zhu Yang waved him off. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“You don’t trust me?” Zhu Yuanzhang pressed.

“It’s not that. Keep your favor for yourself—it could be useful at a crucial moment!” Zhu Yang replied.

Next year would be the twenty-fifth year of Hongwu, when Crown Prince Zhu Biao would die—a pivotal moment in Ming history.

His death would drive Zhu Yuanzhang to another round of purges. Within a few years, Ming’s prominent civil and military officials would be replaced, and those replaced would pay with their lives. None would escape.

All of this was meant to pave the way for Zhu Yunwen.

Looking at old Huang, Zhu Yang guessed he was one of Zhu Yuanzhang’s veteran companions. He had survived the Hu Weiyong case by sheer luck; if Zhu Yang used up his favor, he would surely be caught up in the Lan Yu case.

At that time, Zhu Yuanzhang would be killing indiscriminately. The Duke of Song, Feng Sheng, was executed despite being innocent. If even a duke could be treated thus, what hope for anyone else?

“All right, old Huang, weren’t you curious why I posed those strange questions?” Zhu Yang changed the subject.

“The truth is, I wanted to disrupt their thinking and see if these Ming elites possessed curiosity!” Zhu Yang smiled.

“Tomorrow is the examination. If these men have no curiosity, they won’t be affected. But if their curiosity is strong, it will impact their performance in the first round—some may even underperform!”

“That’s all?” Zhu Yuanzhang was skeptical, feeling Zhu Yang was hiding something.

“That’s all. I’m here to win the top scholar’s title. If these men falter, it’s to my advantage!” Zhu Yang replied.

…

“Oh…” Zhu Yuanzhang gazed deeply at Zhu Yang, but didn’t pursue further. He sensed Zhu Yang was unwilling to say more.

“I’m leaving now. Tomorrow is the exam—do well. I hope you achieve the top rank!” Zhu Yuanzhang stood, casting a glance at the scholars still lost in thought.

…

“He’s finally gone!” Zhu Yang wiped sweat from his brow. Had Zhu Yuanzhang lingered, he might have revealed his true purpose.

The real reason Zhu Yang had asked those four questions was to plant a seed in Ming. Each question corresponded to a subject: mathematics, physics, biology, chemistry.

He had decided that once he became local emperor in North America, he would compile the textbooks of later generations—elementary, middle, and high school—and secretly bring them to Ming.

If any of these scholars remembered the questions he posed today, they would treasure those textbooks.

Perhaps, then, the Ming dynasty might tread a different path.

…

“Jiang Huan, what do you think of today’s events?” On the way back to the palace, Zhu Yuanzhang asked as he walked.

“I believe Zhu Yang is indeed Your Highness’s grandson,” Jiang Huan replied. “And as for those four questions, the prince did not tell the truth.”

“Mm! I think so too!” Zhu Yuanzhang nodded.

“By the way!” A flash of murderous resolve crossed Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes. “Go and review all the guards who once watched over the mausoleum at Zhongshan, as well as the tomb robbers. I am seventy percent certain Zhu Yang is indeed my eldest grandson, but you must confirm it. This concerns the royal bloodline—and I also wish to know how my grandson has fared all these years.”

“Yes!” Jiang Huan responded.