Daming: Brother, there is no future for monks, let's rebel

The attacker groaned and stumbled backward, but then flipped over to use the momentum to pull out the silk rope and pounce again.

"This person is no ordinary person." Wei Rou stepped forward and became entangled with the dark figure.

Zhu Han did not move again, but stared intently at the dust that was about to be removed from the mirror door, his expression deep.

boom!
Wei Rou used the move "Startled Swallow Enters the Forest" to knock away the right blade of the black shadow, and sparks flew as the blade struck the stone slab.

A ruthless glint appeared in the man's eyes. He suddenly tried to pull away, but bumped into Zhu Han's outstretched palm.

"I'll spare you," Zhu Han said coldly. "I'll only ask you three questions. If you answer, you may live."

The shadowy figure remained silent, its face covered by a thin human skin mask, blood dripping from its chin.

"Yu Tong is still alive, where is he?"

"I don't know."

"You belong to the 'Mirror Gate' faction. How many people are still in the sect?"

"Less than ten people."

Why has the "Mirror Gate" been reopened?

The man's eyes flickered slightly, and after hesitating for a moment, he said, "It is 'the heart of the Zhu family'."

Zhu Han raised an eyebrow: "What do you mean?"

The shadowy figure remained silent. Zhu Han's gaze turned cold, and he pointed a finger. Without hesitation, Wei Rou struck the figure in the back with a palm strike. The force penetrated to the bone, and the man spat out a mouthful of blood and fainted.

Zhu Han remained silent for a moment, then looked at the towering bronze mirror.

"'The heart of the Zhu family'...is it the Crown Prince, or the Emperor's elder brother? Or me?"

Wei Rou said in a low voice, "It could be one of the three of you, or it could be something else entirely."

Zhu Han looked up, a cold glint in his eyes: "Lock this person in the Eastern Palace's dark prison, and do not show him to anyone. Have someone guard him until I give the order."

"Yes."

The next day, before the morning court session at the Eastern Palace had even begun, Zhu Han had already arrived at the training ground.

Zhu Biao was practicing his battle formation, still covered in sweat. When he saw him arrive, he laughed and said, "You didn't sleep again last night?"

Zhu Han raised an eyebrow: "You're used to me going out at night?"

"Several people in the Listening Wind Bureau secretly call you 'Night Fox,' and you can even recite the tunnel map clearly."

Zhu Han smiled and said, "I did go looking for an old fox last night."

Zhu Biao's eyes narrowed: "Yu Tong?"

"It wasn't him. But it was the door he left behind."

Zhu Han briefly recounted the story of the underground passage in the Imperial Garden, but omitted the three questions and answers.

Zhu Biao's expression turned grave upon hearing this: "Now that the Mirror Gate has opened, Yu Tong will inevitably reveal himself sooner or later. You say he's moved by the 'Zhu Family Heart'... What if I were that heart?"

“You are not.” Zhu Han said firmly.

Zhu Biao was taken aback: "Who is that?"

Zhu Han remained silent for a long time: "What he wants is not you, not my brother, but me."

Zhu Biao paused, his breath catching in his throat: "You?"

Zhu Han nodded, his tone as gentle as the wind: "He knows I've never been a part of this political situation, and only I can break the deadlock from the sidelines. If I stand by your side, he will never have a chance of winning."

Zhu Biao clenched his fist and said in a deep voice, "Then I can't let anything happen to you."

“You don’t need to protect me.” Zhu Han turned around, his gaze as calm as the night. “Just keep moving forward, and I’ll always be behind you.”

Zhu Biao watched Zhu Han's retreating figure, suddenly feeling an inexplicable heaviness pressing down on his chest. He suddenly called out to him, "Royal Uncle."

Zhu Han stopped.

At the lotus pond in the northwest corner of the Imperial Garden, Zhu Han, dressed in a light blue casual suit, leaned against the stone railing, his gaze fixed on the water.

The pond rippled slightly, and a white egret with black feathers and blue legs perched on a small islet in the center of the water. It flapped its wings twice and then stood still.

"Uncle, you're here admiring birds? It's quite a search for you." Zhu Biao's voice came from afar.

Zhu Han turned around and saw Zhu Biao approaching with light steps, a smile on his face, but he couldn't hide the slight fatigue in the corners of his eyes.

“Your Highness is so diligent in your duties that you can’t even take a short break. In this weather, why don’t you learn from me and take a rest to avoid heatstroke?” Zhu Han smiled and gestured to the side, “Sit down and let’s talk.”

Zhu Biao shook his head and smiled bitterly, but still sat down next to him and pointed to the egret in the pond, saying, "It comes here every afternoon and hasn't left for three days in a row. It looks like it has something to hold it back from."

Zhu Han looked in the direction he was pointing and said calmly, "People are the same."

Zhu Biao remained silent for a long time before finally asking, "Has that person from last night woken up?"

Zhu Han's eyes flashed, and he said slowly, "He's awake, and he talks more, but he's also more confused."

"What did you say?"

“He said that there is a ‘real scroll’ hidden behind the mirror door.” Zhu Han paused and said in a low voice, “It is about a game of chess that once took place in this palace—that game of chess determined the life and death of many people, and also holds the reason why the Yu Tong lineage is immortal.”

Zhu Biao frowned: "What do you mean by that?"

Zhu Han's gaze was deep and unfathomable, as if looking through the waters of the deep palace: "Thirty years ago, before Yu Tong had made his mark in the court, someone played a game of chess in the years before my brother ascended the throne. That game of chess began in Jinling, but there was more than one player who made the moves. Yu Tong was just one of those pieces."

"So, is he still on the chessboard now?" Zhu Biao asked.

“No.” Zhu Han shook his head. “He has already become a man who holds hands with his wife.”

"Since the Mirror Gate is the pivot of the game, what exactly is he plotting?"

Zhu Han slowly uttered two words: "Continue the game."

Zhu Biao suddenly stood up and exclaimed, "He wants to continue that murderous scheme?"

Zhu Han nodded: "And this time, it's you on the chessboard."

Zhu Biao's face darkened, and after a moment he slowly sat down and said in a low voice, "I'm not afraid of being plotted against, but I'm afraid... of someone shielding me."

Zhu Han chuckled and said gently, "You are the Crown Prince, the future pillar of the nation. Someone should protect you."

“But I don’t want my royal uncle to go and shield me from those quagmires and bloodshed.” Zhu Biao turned to look at him, his eyes revealing a composure and tenderness rarely seen in a young man. “These days, you have worked day and night for me, and I remember it all.”

Zhu Han remained silent, only raising his hand to pat his shoulder: "It's good to remember, but don't overthink it. If I don't stop you, who will?"

That night, Zhu Han entered the underground palace again.

Before the mirror, the dust on the bronze mirror had been swept away, revealing a smooth, water-like surface.

At this moment, Zhu Han, with Wei Rou by his side, stood side by side with another person.

The man was tall and thin, with a gaunt face and eyes like those of a night owl.

It was "Leng Yu" whom Zhu Han had secretly taken in years ago. This person was knowledgeable in formations, mechanisms, and ink techniques. He grew up in a folk Taoist family and was taken in by Zhu Han as the head of a secret police force three years ago, in charge of underground affairs.

"This bronze mirror is both a mechanism and the key to the formation." Leng Yu raised his hand and gently touched the mirror surface, and circles of pale golden light spread out from his fingertips.

"Is it solvable?"

“Difficult. There seems to be a sealing technique behind the mirror. It’s not a single mechanism or lock, but multiple seals. We must use our sect’s techniques to break it.” Leng Yu frowned.

"If Yu Tong wants to open the Mirror Gate, what method should she use?"

“If he is the one who sets up the mirror, there must be a corresponding incantation. I can set up a trap to lure him, and use external force to shake open the mirror door by half a foot, so as to glimpse a glimpse of what lies behind it.”

Zhu Han nodded: "It's feasible, prepare it quickly."

"It takes one day to prepare."

"I'll give you half a day."

Leng Yu's eye twitched, and he replied in a low voice, "Yes."

Zhu Han's gaze was deep: "Start filming tomorrow afternoon."

This night is destined to be sleepless.

Zhu Han returned to his sleeping quarters from the underground palace and was about to rest when he heard hurried footsteps outside.

"Your Highness, Commander Zhao Hu of the Embroidered Uniform Guard urgently requests an audience."

Zhu Han was slightly surprised: "Zhao Hu?"

A moment later, inside the hall.

Zhao Hu, clad in night-clothes armor, had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Behind him stood a pale-faced young man, his clothes tattered, his eyes filled with terror, staring intently at Zhu Han. "Who is this?" Zhu Han frowned slightly.

Zhao Hu clasped his hands in a fist and bowed: "Your Highness, this man is a junior apprentice at the painting shop in the East Market, named Wu Ce. He was kidnapped by Yu Tong's former subordinates a few days ago, but escaped tonight and went straight to the Embroidered Uniform Guard camp. After I found out the reason, I brought him here immediately."

Zhu Han nodded, gesturing for the young man to come closer.

Wu Ce knelt down with a thud, trembling as he said, "This humble one dares not deceive... Yu Tong... he, he is in the palace."

Zhu Han narrowed his eyes: "The palace? You've seen it?"

“I saw him. He was wearing a mask, burning incense and chanting incantations in front of an altar, saying he wanted to awaken the ‘Mirror Spirit’—saying something about ‘the blood has not been exhausted, the soul has not been dispersed, the grudge of thirty years has been resolved, it’s time to awaken’…”

"Mirror Spirit?" Zhu Han murmured.

“Yes.” Wu Ce nodded repeatedly. “He also said that he wants to use the ‘blood of the Zhu family’ as a key to open the mirror… He might be looking for Your Highness…”

Zhu Han stood up, his robes fluttering in the wind. He spoke slowly, his tone steady yet sharp.

"Zhao Hu, lay in wait and monitor all unusual activity in the palace. Order your Left Army to lay the Heavenly Shuttle Net before midnight tonight, sealing all entrances and exits within three miles northwest of the Imperial Garden."

"Yes!" Zhao Hu accepted the order and left.

Zhu Han turned to Wu Ce and asked, "Does anyone know the route you took to escape?"

“No one was there. My subordinates kidnapped him along with me, but he took a blade for me, which allowed me to escape.”

"Who is that person?"

Wu Ce said in a low voice, "Yes... he was an old man who swept the floor in the palace, and he called himself 'Wei Er'."

Zhu Han was taken aback.

"Wei Er?" His eyes flickered slightly. "That man... is he dead?"

Wu Ce nodded, still looking shaken.

Zhu Han closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath: "Keep this matter under wraps. No one is allowed to spread it. Wu Ce, from now on you will be my mole and remain under Leng Yu's command."

"Yes, yes, Your Highness, I am willing to go through fire and water for you!"

The following afternoon, Leng Yu had completed his formation in front of the Mirror Gate.

Incense and candles were lit in all directions, talismans were flicked, and a faint silver light shone on the bronze mirror.

Leng Yu silently chanted an incantation, made a hand seal, and suddenly struck the mirror with his palm.

boom--

The bronze mirror trembled slightly and slowly sank inward, revealing a half-foot-long black slit.

Zhu Han narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "It's open."

Leng Yu shook his head: "Once the door is opened, the aura will be emitted. If Yu Tong is here, she will appear soon."

“That suits me perfectly.” Zhu Han smiled faintly. “I’ll wait for him to make his move.”

Beyond the mirror door lies not a stone wall, but a sloping downward passageway. The reliefs on both sides depict the Vermilion Bird treading on fire and the White Tiger roaring in the wind. Unidentified spiritual oil remains on the walls, and the dim light carries a faint blue glow.

Zhu Han held a bronze lamp and walked forward step by step, with only Leng Yu, Wei Rou, and Zhao Hu behind him.

“This place… doesn’t seem to have been built by ordinary people,” Wei Rou whispered. “It looks like a magic palace.”

“No ordinary Taoist school.” Leng Yu glanced at the mural, his fingertip pointing to a spot under a Vermilion Bird's fiery feather. “Look at the brushstrokes here. They don’t follow the style of the Central Plains school. They seem to be from a secret passage in the western frontier… It’s a pity the lineage has been severed.”

Zhao Hu looked around: "Your Highness, are we chasing a person or searching for something?"

Zhu Han said calmly, "People can hide things, but objects can't. We're looking for the 'genuine scroll' first."

At the end of the passageway, there is a bronze archway with two lines of seal script engraved on it: "With a mind free of delusions, one can glimpse the secrets of heaven."

Zhu Han raised his eyes and gave a slight, cold laugh: "Is it a delusion for me to think about the rise and fall of all living beings?"

Having said that, he tossed the bronze lamp in his hand, which landed squarely in the crescent-shaped groove in front of the door. With a "click," the bronze door slowly opened.

Behind the door was an octagonal hall with a dome covered in star patterns. In the center of the floor, there was a blue stone desk with a half-rolled, tattered book on it, its surface glowing faintly.

Everyone held their breath. Zhu Han stepped forward and placed his palm over the tattered scroll.

As the book was turned, a cold wind suddenly swept out from it, extinguishing all the firelight in the hall.

In the darkness, Zhu Han whispered, "Leng Yu."

“Here.” Leng Yu flicked his finger, and sparks of light spilled from between his fingers, like fireflies reigniting.

Zhao Hu had already drawn his sword: "Someone's coming."

Outside the bronze door, extremely light footsteps sounded. The sound was like someone walking barefoot in the snow, silent yet not hidden.

Immediately afterwards, a white figure appeared in front of the door, dressed in black robes and wearing a golden mask, smiling before speaking.

"Prince Zhu Han, you are in high spirits, coming in person to retrieve this fragment of the scroll."

Zhu Han's eyes narrowed, and he said coldly, "Yu Tong."

"Ah...you still remember me." The golden-masked man's voice was low and soft as he slowly stepped into the hall. "Thirty years ago, you were not here...but thirty years later, you have come."

Zhu Han tossed the scroll aside, and the tattered scroll transformed into a ball of fire, disappearing into his sleeve: "The fact that you didn't leave any trace of your aura in this scroll shows that you're afraid I'll get it."

“Afraid? No.” Yu Tong shook her head and chuckled, “It’s to welcome Your Highness into the game.”

"A game?" Zhu Han looked at him, his gaze sharp. "You've already lost."

Yu Tong stepped forward: "Your Highness, what lies behind the mirror gate is merely a corner of the chessboard. You have not seen the whole picture."

Zhu Han remained unmoved: "Tell me about it."

"Do you know that what is written on this tattered scroll is not just a struggle for imperial power?"

"Anything else?"

Yu Tong slowly removed the golden mask, revealing an utterly unfamiliar face. It was not the Yu Tong Zhu Han remembered.

“You are not him.” Zhu Han’s tone was calm, but carried a hint of coldness.

“He’s long dead,” the man smiled. “I’ve just been using his name to do things for thirty years.”

"Purpose."

"Looking for something."

"What is it?"

"keel."

A cold glint flashed in Zhu Han's eyes: "Madman."

“No.” The man pointed to the stars in the sky. “Although the Ming Dynasty is prosperous, it is destined to suffer a calamity. What I am planning is only to avoid this calamity.”

"Using the Mirror Gate as the array's core and the Crown Prince's blood as the key—you intend to use the dragon bone to change your fate?"

Zhu Han sneered, "I think you're just trying to defy fate because your life is coming to an end!"

Instead of getting angry, the man laughed and said, "Who decides fate? Since you're here, I'll tell you the truth."

Zhu Han looked at him coldly.

"Zhu Biao will not die...if you are willing to help me."

“If he wasn’t meant to die, why would he need your help?” Zhu Han shook his head. “You’re wrong. I won’t help you. You can’t get out of this mirror gate.”

"Then let's give it a try." The man flicked his sleeve and retreated, his figure flashing like a ghost as he flew away.

"Zhao Hu!"

"Here!" Zhao Hu rushed out instantly, slashing at the man's back with his sword.

The knife missed its target. The figure flashed from the ground and vanished into a shimmering pool of water.

Leng Yu's expression changed drastically: "Mirror Technique Clone!"

Zhu Han said coldly, "He has entered the Star Chart territory. Seal the gate."

“But Your Highness…” Wei Rou frowned, “If that person can transform into a mirror, wouldn’t he be able to move freely?”

"Not necessarily." Zhu Han looked at the tattered scroll and whispered, "He came before; his presence is already reflected in the mirror. If we're looking for him... we don't need to leave this door again."

Night had fallen. Zhu Biao sat alone in his study in the Eastern Palace, perusing the *Tongdian* under the lamplight, when suddenly he heard light footsteps. (End of Chapter)