Chapter 98: Old Zhu's Backstab—He Still Intervened

Zhang Yi—the injuries on the Crown Prince’s face were undoubtedly inflicted by him.

A father knows his son best. Given Zhang Yi’s reckless nature and his ignorance of Zhu Biao’s true identity, it was more than likely—it was certain—it was him!

How outrageous!

Zhang Zheng felt a chill run down his spine recalling the emperor’s inexplicable reward and his harsh judgment of Zhang Yi as “ill-mannered.” In this era where the sovereign was heaven itself, Zhang Yi’s behavior warranted the severest punishment—even extermination of his entire clan would be justified.

Before Zhang Zheng’s eyes, the bloody scenes of Mount Longhu flashed again. He had barely found peace for a few days, and now this upheaval again?

“Master Zhang, are you truly all right?” Prince Wang hurried over to support him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine… I’m way too fine!” Zhang Zheng’s face twisted with anguish.

“Prince Wang, please proceed as you wish. I must be going!” Zhang Zheng climbed into his carriage and shouted to his disciples, “Immediately head to Qingxin Temple, quickly!”

His disciples hurried without delay toward Qingxin Temple.

Upon arrival, Zhang Zheng dismissed them and, clutching his peach wood sword, prepared to confront Zhang Yi.

“Father!” Zhang Yi and Deng Zhongxiu were practicing Tai Chi behind the temple when Zhang Zheng stormed in wielding the peach wood sword. Although initially pleased, Zhang Yi bolted at the sight of the weapon.

What a joke—over the years at Mount Longhu, Zhang Yi had become adept at shifting with the wind.

“Come back here!” Zhang Zheng shouted.

“I won’t!” Zhang Yi had already begun scaling the temple walls, intent on reaching the roof.

“Only if you tell me why you hit me will I stop chasing you!”

It had been a long time since Zhang Zheng had been so stern with him; his hands trembled from disuse.

Zhang Zheng took a deep breath. “You beat the young master of the Huang family?”

“Yes!” Zhang Yi admitted boldly. “I did it for his own good!”

Both Zhang Zheng and Zhang Yuchu inhaled sharply, for they knew Zhu Biao’s true status.

Zhang Yuchu trembled all over, suddenly realizing the gravity of Zhang Yi’s transgression. Despite his youth, he sensed the scent of death looming. Having such a brother was incredibly nerve-wracking.

“Father, maybe we should sever ties with him…” Zhang Yuchu looked at Zhang Yi with resentment, no longer wanting him as a brother.

“Father, you’re worrying too much. I’m on good terms with Huang family’s eldest brother; what’s there to fret about?” Zhang Yi climbed onto the roof, no longer fearing punishment, and calmly reasoned with his father.

Zhang Zheng was furious. Did the Crown Prince’s forgiveness mean he must also forgive Zhang Yi? If not, the Zhang family graves at Mount Longhu would be overgrown with three feet of grass by now.

In his anger, Zhang Zheng threw the peach wood sword onto the roof. Zhang Yi grinned and dodged.

“Dad, I’ll help you pick it up…” Like a little monkey, Zhang Yi climbed down.

“Be careful, that sword isn’t worth much…”

Though he wished to strike this unruly son dead, Zhang Zheng felt an inexplicable pang of tenderness as Zhang Yi jumped down.

Zhang Yi moved swiftly, retrieved the peach wood sword, and handed it to Zhang Zheng. Zhang Zheng’s face shifted from pale to flushed; neither accepting nor refusing felt right.

Finally, he sighed: “Forget it. Since young Master Huang doesn’t mind, why should I be angry with you? Just don’t act so lawlessly from now on; it will bring great disaster!”

The emperor’s “punishment” of sending Zhang Yi to the Imperial Academy to study showed that the matter had been settled in the sovereign’s mind.

Yet the emperor’s reasoning was sound: although Zhang Yi had a celestial destiny, he lacked proper discipline and needed a good teacher to guide him.

“All right, come with me. Zhongxiu, you go out and keep watch!” Zhang Zheng dismissed Deng Zhongxiu and sat down.

“Father, I’m sure the emperor rewarded you for this trip. With the matter of our family’s smallpox inoculation method concluded perfectly, from now on, whenever future generations mention smallpox inoculation, they will think first of our emperor, and second of Mount Longhu. This is a chance to be remembered in history!”

Hearing this, Zhang Zheng’s face brightened. Aside from his deepest personal desires, the promotion of the smallpox inoculation method alone would secure Mount Longhu’s place in the annals of history.

Now, north and south of the Huai River, who doesn’t read the “Supreme Treatise on the Subtle Laws of the Microscopic World”?

Throughout history, Buddhism and Daoism have vied for the spiritual allegiance of China. Daoism had long struggled against Buddhism’s dominance, especially after the famous Buddhist-Daoist debate presided over by Kublai Khan of the Yuan dynasty, where Daoism was soundly defeated—a group of Quanzhen Daoist leaders even had their heads shaved by others. The Zhang family gradually came under the rulers’ scrutiny.

Since then, Daoism had not produced a seminal scripture that could spread far and wide.

But now, the name of the “Supreme One” outshone even Bodhisattvas like Cihang and Zhunti...

By that measure, Zhang Yi was a great hero of Daoism. In the forty-two generations of Mount Longhu’s lineage, few Celestial Masters could boast such achievements.

If ever someone compiled a history of Daoism, the “Supreme Treatise on the Subtle Laws of the Microscopic World” and Zhang Zheng himself would be unavoidable.

After this endeavor, Zhang Zheng would be remembered as a divine figure in history.

Thinking of this, Zhang Zheng’s mood lifted as he shared news of Yangzhou Prefecture with Zhang Yi.

Zhang Yi was delighted—but his joy stemmed from a different source. He wasn’t worried whether the smallpox inoculation method would spread. What thrilled him was that his “pseudo-scripture” recording the microscopic world’s realities might be disseminated.

Whether his “Micro Records” would survive was uncertain, but Zhang Yi was confident the “Supreme Treatise” would endure.

Although common folk might not understand bacteria or microbes, the scripture would subtly impart essential hygiene knowledge.

Moreover, centuries hence, when foreign devils claimed to have discovered bacteria, China’s descendants could confidently retort:

“Since ancient times, our land has recorded knowledge of microorganisms. Don’t try to steal credit... Don’t believe me? Look it up in the Daoist Canon!”

This secret rewriting of history felt quite satisfying.

“The emperor is very pleased with Mount Longhu’s recent actions and has entrusted me with another task—to visit the northern regions and pay respects to the heroic spirits buried there! After returning from Yangzhou and witnessing the people’s suffering, I was deeply moved. The trip north was my own suggestion, but His Majesty supports it... Moreover, he granted me special privileges—I may even visit the military...”

The northern journey had political significance as a show, but as a Han Chinese, Zhang Zheng did not reject Zhu Yuanzhang’s mission.

Especially after his experience in Yangzhou, Zhang Zheng seemed to have gained much insight.

Reuniting north and south was the mission Zhu Yuanzhang bore as emperor, and it was now something Zhang Zheng was willing to undertake.

“You might even see Xu Da and Chang Yuchun in the army?”

“If necessary...” Zhang Zheng said meaningfully.

After Zhu Yuanzhang’s explanation, Zhang Zheng learned that Zhang Yi had predicted Chang Yuchun’s death.

The emperor’s directive to visit the north came with similar considerations.

“What a coincidence!” Zhang Yi became uneasy upon hearing Chang Yuchun’s name.

He had met the Chang family and foretold Chang Yuchun’s demise—he had even tried to alter that fate, though he never believed he could save the great general.

Neither the Chang family nor Huang and his son could do this.

Yet Zhang Zheng casually informed him he would soon journey north with a chance to meet military personnel. Zhang Yi hesitated.

Should he intervene once more in the course of history?

Just a little...

“What’s the matter? Do you have something to tell me?” Zhang Zheng, noticing Zhang Yi’s silence, deliberately broached the subject.

“I wonder how long Father plans to travel, and where in the north?”

Zhang Zheng replied, “Since it is to honor our Han heroes buried in the north, I will naturally follow behind the Ming army. Wherever our Han sons lie is where I will go. As for the duration, one or two years.”

In ancient times, such journeys were common.

Zhang Yi looked at his father deeply.

“If Father Emperor welcomes Chang Yuchun’s return next year, you can meet him. If you earn his trust before then, Father can try to save his life.”

“You say General Chang will die?”

Zhang Zheng’s expression darkened.

“On the seventh day of the seventh month next year, at Liuhe River, after Chang Yuchun lays down his armor, he will suddenly die. This is a vision I glimpsed of the future... His death might be caused by several possibilities: first, a stroke; second, heart disease; third... I believe these are the ways we can attempt to save him...”

Zhang Yi told Zhang Zheng everything he knew without reservation.

Neither Huang and his son nor the Chang family had mentioned these matters.

Zhang Zheng’s heart surged with waves of shock. This boy’s knowledge of the future was indeed far more profound than he appeared.

“If you can save Chang Yuchun, Father, your merit would be immense. But after this, it’s best not to get too close to him...”

After instructing Zhang Zheng, who nodded to show he understood.

Serving under Zhu Yuanzhang required caution—best to emulate Xu Da and avoid forming factions or overly close ties.

“I’ll send your eldest brother back later. Soon after, I’ll be leaving on my journey. He’s watched over at Mount Longhu, and you must take care of yourself in the capital!”

Zhang Zheng’s parting words carried a tinge of sorrow. Zhang Yi nodded in silence.

“Remember, if you can, drink boiled water along the way—that can save your life... Also...”

Zhang Zheng listened quietly to Zhang Yi’s advice without impatience.

When all was said and done, he said:

“By the way, there’s one more thing. The emperor gave me a reward. Want to know what it is?”

“What?”

“The emperor felt pity for your idleness in Yingtian Prefecture and, out of kindness, found something for you to do. Tomorrow, you’ll report to the Imperial Academy. From now on, you’ll study there...”

Zhang Yi’s face fell as if struck by thunder.

“Father, what did you say? I didn’t hear you clearly!”

Seeing Zhang Yi’s mournful expression, Zhang Zheng felt inexplicably pleased and feigned ignorance:

“The emperor’s gift is to send you to the Imperial Academy to study! Such is the grace of His Majesty...”

Zhang Zheng exaggerated his expression, while Zhang Yi was on the verge of tears.

He could accept anything except those dry, scholarly things. He had no interest whatsoever in Confucian classics.

Oh Zhu Yuanzhang, I don’t even know you. If you want to reward my father, fine—but don’t drag me into it!

“I won’t go!” Zhang Yi angrily refused outright.

But seeing the amused yet stern gazes of Zhang Zheng and Zhang Yuchu, Zhang Yi relented.

“Fine, I’ll go, alright?”

(End of chapter)