Chapter 73: Wanting to See Zhu Yuanzhang, But You Don’t Want To

Without knowing that Zhu Yuanzhang was actually Huang He, Zhang Yi could never be completely at ease with Zhang Zhengchang’s entry into the palace.

At its core, this matter was nothing less than a political investment by Mount Longhu. Though in his heart, Zhang Yi wished to use the advantage of his transmigration to leave something behind for this world.

He had prepared thoroughly for this visit to the palace, considering every possibility. He knew the Ming dynasty was short on capable people in its early years, and that Zhu Yuanzhang, having just seized the realm, faced a north not yet subdued—he needed something to win the hearts of men.

Mount Longhu could offer the emperor considerable value; Zhang Yi was eighty percent certain that Zhu Yuanzhang would accept the formulas he presented and spread them widely.

Yet, even with such confidence, Zhang Yi was still uneasy. This was Zhu Yuanzhang, after all. If one were to rank the emperors of history by the difficulty of dealing with them, Zhu would be at least in the top five, if not the very first.

He had instigated this affair, and if it brought disaster upon Mount Longhu...

He drifted into a restless sleep, only to awaken suddenly, startled and wide-eyed.

Looking around in confusion, he noticed the moon already hung high outside his window. The room was dimly lit, but voices could be heard from outside.

“Father, brother, they’re back...”

Recognizing their voices, Zhang Yi sprang from his bed.

Opening the door, he found Zhang Zhengchang and Zhang Yuchu, father and son, reciting and discussing medical matters beneath the moon.

Things like parasites, bacteria, and microorganisms were truly beyond the ancient mind’s comprehension. Even though Zhang Yi described them as “creatures invisible to the eye” and tried to write the medical text in terms the ancients could grasp, the doctrine of microbes was wholly different from the traditional yin-yang and five phases medicine—it was an alien concept, hard to fathom without the foundation of later knowledge.

Were it not so, Zhang Zhengchang would not have dragged Zhang Yuchu into the study with him.

A child’s worldview is not set so quickly; their minds are more open to novel ideas. Moreover, Zhang Yuchu had a talent for learning, and in discussing with the old man, he was in fact helping him understand.

“Father, brother!”

Zhang Yi’s call interrupted their study. Zhang Zhengchang looked up and smiled.

“You’re awake? Why not rest a little longer? Since you’re up, come here quickly. I can’t make sense of this part...”

“Why isn’t a virus considered alive?”

“Uh... That’s hard to explain...”

Zhang Yi naturally joined in, and with his participation, Zhang Zhengchang and Zhang Yuchu’s understanding of the “Record of Micro Worlds” advanced rapidly. An hour passed, and at last Zhang Yuchu exclaimed:

“The microscopic world is so fascinating! Much more interesting than the Way of Cultivation. I don’t want to be the Celestial Master anymore!”

He had barely finished when the old man’s palm landed on the back of his head.

“Our family already lost one Celestial Master. If you dare shirk your duty too, I’ll beat you to death!”

Zhang Yuchu clutched his head, tears welling up. The old man always claimed not to play favorites, but why could his second brother quit and he could not?

Now it was clear: Zhang Yi was always the old man’s first choice for Celestial Master.

Seeing Zhang Yuchu suffer, Zhang Yi laughed heartily.

“Zhang Yi, I’ll get you for this...”

In his grief and indignation, Zhang Yuchu tried to assert his dignity as the elder brother with his fists.

Their playful bickering filled the temple with life, and the old man laughed heartily. In his memory, this was perhaps the first time he’d enjoyed such lively company with both sons together.

“All right, enough fooling around!”

After a while, the brothers finally settled down.

“Let me tell you what happened in the palace...”

Zhang Zhengchang had long since grown accustomed to treating Zhang Yi as a peer and fellow scholar rather than looking down on him as a father to a son.

Zhang Yi was eager to hear of the palace as well, and nodded.

“When we arrived, we encountered the Kong family...”

Zhang Zhengchang recounted the story of Kong Xixue and Kong Kejian, causing Zhang Yi’s brow to furrow.

Kong Kejian was ill?

Could the old rascal be feigning illness?

In Zhang Yi’s memory, Kong Kejian was most unwilling to come to Ming.

First, when Xu Da invited him, he pretended to be ill and sent only Kong Xixue to Yingtian. Old Zhu gave Kong Xixue a harsh humiliation, but the old fellow continued to feign illness upon his return.

Later, Zhu Yuanzhang issued a stern imperial edict to Qufu. Yet before the decree arrived, Kong Kejian was already on his way to Yingtian—not out of righteousness, but because the Ming had already taken Dadu and defeated Toqto’a, who saw Kong Kejian as the Yuan dynasty’s last hope. Realizing the Yuan’s fate was sealed, Kong Kejian switched sides.

Thus, Zhang Yi had little respect for Kong Kejian. Never mind serving different masters—when the Yuan fell, Kong Kejian fled faster than anyone.

Knowing this history, Zhang Yi highly suspected that Kong Kejian was again feigning madness.

The ancients had played such tricks countless times; Zhang Yi was eighty percent sure.

When he voiced his suspicions, Zhang Yuchu and Zhang Zhengchang were dumbfounded—he had guessed it?

Zhang Zhengchang pressed on with his story.

He recounted how the rhetoric Zhang Yi had supplied moved the Hongwu Emperor. Zhu Yuanzhang immediately ordered Xu Da that wherever the Ming army marched, all must pay respects to the ancestors of the northern expeditions. Zhang Yi could not help but exclaim in praise.

Zhu Yuanzhang was truly Zhu Yuanzhang. Whatever opinions one might hold of him, there was no denying he was among the greatest rulers in Chinese history.

Such mastery of timing was beyond the reach of ordinary men.

“I also think Uncle Emperor is remarkable!” Zhang Yuchu chimed in, fearful of being left out.

Zhang Yi said, “The greatness I see differs from what you two praise. You admire the emperor’s attitude; I perceive the imperial cunning behind his actions...”

He explained, “The words my father spoke were ones I improvised for him to add, yet the emperor instantly seized upon them, issuing this military order—a genius move!

The Ming’s northern campaign required not just victory, but the winning of hearts. By establishing this order, His Majesty emphasized legitimacy and the righteousness of the Ming army. It’s the finest means of propaganda for the northern war, a way to win the allegiance of the Han people in the north!”

Zhang Zhengchang suddenly understood. If Zhang Yi hadn’t mentioned his sense of historical mission to Old Zhu that day, he might never have considered this.

Now, in hindsight, it made perfect sense.

To mend the rift of centuries between north and south, every possible method should be tried. Evoking shared ancestors to kindle northern Han identity was just one such means.

The loss of the people’s hearts over hundreds of years could not be restored in a day, but to win them back bit by bit was always the right course.

Recalling Zhu Yuanzhang’s response, Zhang Zhengchang was full of admiration for the emperor.

“To be born in this era but never meet the Hongwu Emperor—what a pity!” Zhang Yi sighed. Though he’d never met the man, just hearing his father’s account allowed him to sense the monarch’s charisma.

Yet as he spoke, Zhang Zhengchang and Zhang Yuchu exchanged odd looks.

You may not want that—at least, after meeting the emperor, you’d surely regret it!

The two silently lit candles for Zhang Yi in their hearts, and—without a trace—shuffled a little farther away from him.

(The end of this chapter)