Chapter Twenty-Three: Teaching the Father

As Zhou Yushan and the others recounted the events on the streets, the truth gradually became known to everyone in the capital. The anger that had been incited began to subside; those who had participated felt regret, those who had once firmly believed now mocked their own naivety, and those who had always been indifferent remained so.

Outside the city, Xu Huizu and Xu Zengshou rode their horses, leading the capital garrison back to their station. Before leaving, they glanced back at the place where they had grown up, sighed, and sensed the metallic tang of blood still lingering in the air.

The Crown Prince was capable and had never shown the slightest harshness toward his brothers; His Majesty had never even hinted at deposing the Crown Prince. Yet, even so, there were still those willing to risk everything on a gamble.

The result was utter defeat.

“The imperial house is merciless,” Xu Zengshou breathed out a heavy sigh and looked northward with concern.

Walking ahead of him, Xu Huizu immediately rebuked upon hearing this, “Fourth Brother, mind your tongue!”

Xu Zengshou quickly realized his mistake, cupped his hands to Xu Huizu, and apologized, “Elder Brother, I was wrong.”

Xu Huizu glanced around and asked in a low voice, “Has that person gone?”

“Yes,” Xu Zengshou nodded.

“From now on, have no more contact,” warned Xu Huizu. “Our Xu family has no need for gamblers.”

“Yes,” Xu Zengshou lowered his head, tugging at the reins. He, too, understood that their family had no need for reckless gamblers, but with their eldest sister in the north, he simply couldn’t steel his heart.

“By the way, Elder Brother, don’t you think His Majesty’s handling of this affair was a bit too drawn out…”

Reviewing everything in his mind, Xu Zengshou realized that this was not Zhu Yuanzhang’s usual way.

With Zhu Yuanzhang’s temperament, faced with such a situation, he would have immediately sent the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Ministry of Justice to arrest everyone and throw them in prison, then convict them of spreading malicious rumors or plotting rebellion, or simply label them as Hu Weiyong’s co-conspirators and execute them all, including Zhu Yang.

Simple, brutal, and effective. The people would be cowed by the rivers of blood, the officials would not dare show any dissatisfaction, and no one would ever dare stir up trouble over this again.

But this time, Zhu Yuanzhang did not do so. Even Zhu Yang, the one at the center of it all, was still alive and well.

Xu Huizu said, “The matter involves a prince. Perhaps His Majesty softened and wanted to give him a chance to repent…”

“Really?” Xu Zengshou looked at his elder brother with a hint of suspicion, feeling that things weren’t so simple.

“Come on,” Xu Huizu did not answer, but rode on ahead toward the military camp.

...

“What? Prince Qin Zhu Quan and Duke Cao Li Jinglong want to see me?” Zhu Yang, just released from house arrest and back in his small courtyard with the other scholars, pointed at himself in disbelief. “What would they want with me? I’m just a scholar—what’s there to see?”

After the truth came out, everyone involved had been dealt with, except for Prince Qin Zhu Quan and Duke Cao Li Jinglong. The manner of their punishment remained unresolved.

The people whispered about it in private, the officials had submitted numerous memorials, but all had disappeared without a trace.

Zhu Yang understood Zhu Yuanzhang’s hesitation—after all, these two were close relatives: one his son, the other his nephew’s son. Zhu Yuanzhang was a man who valued family deeply.

Understanding was one thing; forgetting the grudge was another. These two had tried to take his life.

Now, Huang Da (Zhu Biao) was telling him that Zhu Quan and Li Jinglong wanted to see him, and that Zhu Yuanzhang had agreed. This made Zhu Yang extremely displeased.

“Just go. It’s only a meeting—no one’s asking you to plead for them,” Zhu Biao tried to placate him, knowing Zhu Yang harbored resentment. After all, Zhu Yang was the chief victim in this affair. Fortunately, his real identity had been uncovered in advance; otherwise, had the matter blown up, Zhu Yuanzhang would have been the first to execute him.

“Just go hear what Zhu Quan and Li Jinglong have to say. This whole affair has created such a stir—even if His Majesty is inclined to let it go, the Crown Prince won’t allow it to be brushed aside so easily!” Zhu Biao continued. “You have to realize this whole plot was aimed squarely at the Crown Prince. He’ll be keeping a close watch…”

Zhu Yang cut him off mid-sentence. “The Crown Prince? Don’t mention him. Just thinking of him makes me angry. He’s such a coward. What kind of Crown Prince acts like that? Those scholars have turned his brain to mush. How can a future emperor act like some mild-mannered gentleman? When his brothers came at him with knives, he hid in the Eastern Palace and didn’t make a sound!”

Zhu Biao was speechless. I did speak up, and I’m not a coward!

“Is being a gentleman so bad?” Zhu Biao asked meekly.

“Bad? Nonsense! There’s no such thing as real gentlemen in this world. Take Confucius, the sage of the Confucians—was he perfect? Did he ever rule an empire? To use the sayings of someone who was never an emperor to educate a future sovereign is utterly laughable!” Zhu Yang went on, “Look at the history books. The emperors praised by the Confucians, like Emperor Wen of Han and Emperor Renzong of Song—what did they actually accomplish? They never defeated the Xiongnu, sent princesses as tribute every year; never beat the Liao, failed at reform, and let Western Xia grow strong…”

“Contrast that with the emperors the Confucians call tyrants—ambitious, greedy for military glory, despised by the scholars. Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, or Tang Taizong who killed his own brother. Qin Shi Huang unified the six kingdoms and laid the foundation for our nation. Emperor Wu struck north against the Xiongnu and made the Han name known. Tang Taizong forced the foreign tribes to kneel and call him ‘Heavenly Khan’…”

“These are the emperors admired by all. Now look at our dynasty’s Crown Prince—praised by officials as merciful, gentle, loving to his brothers… Do you know what that means?”

“What does it mean?” Zhu Biao looked at Zhu Yang. These were indeed the very words officials often used to praise him.

“It means that when I, as an official, make a mistake, the Crown Prince is supposed to turn a blind eye; a major offense becomes a minor one, a minor one gets off with a docked salary, or is simply ignored. When his brothers err, however angry the Crown Prince gets, he must endure it; otherwise, he’s accused of lacking brotherly love…” Zhu Yang explained.

“This…” Zhu Biao stared at Zhu Yang in astonishment. “Is that really what those words mean? That’s twisted logic!”

“Twisted? Hmph, you underestimate the shamelessness of the bureaucrats!” Zhu Yang sneered. “Take this affair. If I hadn’t used a ruse to bring the truth to light, if I’d let His Majesty unleash a bloody purge and bury the truth, when the Crown Prince ascended the throne, if he played along with the officials, kept out of trouble, then the official histories would record that before his accession, the Crown Prince mingled among the people to understand their lives, won their favor, and even had a maiden promise herself to him…”

“But if he didn’t follow the officials’ lead, if he tried reforms that threatened their interests, then the records would say that before his accession, the Crown Prince was licentious, addicted to masquerades, even forcibly seized women, leading to a scandal exposed by his brother Prince Qin at the examination, bringing him into disrepute, and that his father, to preserve his son’s reputation, committed bloody massacres of innocents…”

“Nonsense! You’re spouting nonsense!” Zhu Biao’s worldview seemed to shatter. Since birth, he had been taught by renowned scholars; later, Zhu Yuanzhang, fearing he might go astray, continually selected upright men to serve as officers in the Eastern Palace. He had always been surrounded by orthodox Confucians and, while acting as regent, the officials, cowed by Zhu Yuanzhang, never dared play any tricks on him.

In Zhu Biao’s mind, officials could not possibly be so devious—at worst, they were greedy or lustful, but greed and lust were human nature, understandable!

“I’m spouting nonsense? Heh…” Zhu Yang curled his lip, tempted to cite Zhu Yuanzhang as an example.

Not to mention anything else—just look at how Zhu Yuanzhang’s appearance was recorded, all thanks to Qing-dynasty officials.

Some say it was because those in power ordered them to do so.

But Confucius himself, thousands of years ago, warned his disciples: “To know what you know and know what you do not know, that is true knowledge.”

A bunch of people who never even saw Zhu Yuanzhang insisted on making him look like a donkey; later generations even deliberately made up for it in TV dramas, all under the pretense of “respecting historical facts.”

“If you don’t believe me, ask your father. He’s lived through so many years and served in court for so long—he knows best the true faces of officials!” Zhu Yang waved his hand dismissively. “As for those two, I won’t see them. The fact that I didn’t embellish the story is already mercy enough. If not for my fear of His Majesty, I would have made sure their names stank for a thousand years!”

“And another thing, Huang Da, go and tell the Crown Prince: while there’s still time, either live well, or focus on raising the next generation. Since the Han dynasty, no dynasty has survived over three hundred years. If, one day, the Ming falls, make sure it doesn’t fall to foreign hands… Otherwise, our people will suffer untold hardship… Even the history of the Ming will be…” Zhu Yang didn’t finish, but Zhu Biao understood. If aliens write the history of the Han, what good could come of it?

After all, not every official possesses… well… integrity.