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

Zhu Biao's expression was complicated. He turned his head and looked deeply at Zhu Han before slowly kowtowing: "Your subject thanks Your Majesty on behalf of the ancestral temple."

Zhu Han chuckled softly: "No need to thank me, I just did what I was supposed to do."

He rose and looked up at the layers of palace steps, the cold glint in his eyes slightly diminishing, leaving only one sentence:
"Today's clearing of obstacles is merely to smooth out the path beneath your feet a little more."

Inside the Eastern Palace, Zhu Han sat at his desk in the Prince's study, where a stack of poems, lyrics, and memorials were laid out.

Huang Qi entered through the door, his expression grave.
"Your Highness, we have received a secret report: the staff of the Prince of Yan's and Prince of Wu's mansions drank together last night, and when the soldiers dispersed, they secretly made a vow to take advantage of the Qixi Festival to disturb the guards of the Eastern Palace and undermine the Crown Prince's prestige."

Zhu Han raised his eyes slightly and slowly closed the memorial: "They are testing us again. If we let this go unchecked, the gates of the Eastern Palace will once again be guarded by different people."

Huang Qi said in a low voice, "Your Highness once said, 'Stillness is the best policy.' Could you set up another scheme this time to use stillness to control movement?"

Zhu Han pondered for a long time, then turned his gaze to the melting snow and clear skies outside the window: "No, this was not my doing. The purpose is for the Crown Prince to set up camp himself to intimidate the other princes, not for me to draw my sword again."

Having said that, he took out a vermilion seal, stamped it with "Eastern Palace Secret Guard," and turned to give the order:

"Order Gu Qingping and Du Shiqing to split up: one of them should secretly sneak into the banquet hall of the Prince's Mansion and secretly hang the seal of the Crown Prince on his sleeve; the other should order the guards of the Crown Prince's Palace to take advantage of the Qixi Festival to visit the garden and set up positions at the three main roads of the North Garden, West Garden and Imperial Garden, in the name of 'Secret Guards of the Crown Prince's Palace' to intimidate rebellious officials and spies."

Upon receiving the order, Huang Qi immediately bowed and went to carry it out.

Zhu Han turned to Huang Qi and said, "This move allows all the princes and brothers to see the Crown Prince's power, but they will not see my hand."

Huang Qi nodded: "Yes, let the Crown Prince use intimidation to subdue the enemy, and my assistance will become invisible."

On the day of the Qixi Festival, Crown Prince Zhu Biao, dressed in a blue robe with a white collar and light makeup, took Gu Qingping to the Ten-Mile Pavilion in the Imperial Garden.

In the pavilion, women skillfully weave handkerchiefs, while servants scatter flower petals, and a fragrant breeze warms the air.

Zhu Biao remained silent, observing everyone. Gu Qingping stood beside him, pouring him fragrant tea, and said softly, "Your Highness, are you celebrating the festival?"

Zhu Biao smiled faintly: "The virtues of the Crown Prince are not meant to be found in romantic moments under the moon. I have things to do today."

Before the words were finished, more than thirty riders wearing silver armor and with the seal of the Eastern Palace attached to their waists suddenly appeared in the garden, taking advantage of the gap in the flower market to quickly leave the long pavilion.

However, the knights did not attempt the assassination. Instead, each holding a command token, they quickly lined up along the side of the flower path and shouted:

"The Crown Prince's secret guards are here. Be careful, everyone."

The courtiers were taken aback, and the wine, song, and dance in the flower market came to an abrupt halt.

Some scholars exclaimed in surprise, "What is the meaning of the Crown Prince's secret guards?"

Zhu Biao slowly rose to his feet, his voice booming like a bell: "Although the Eastern Palace has set up a flower market and banquet, outsiders are not allowed to disturb it! Anyone who dares to assassinate a secret guard is either friend or foe!"

The thirty riders instantly raised their shields and stood at attention, startling the soldiers and weeds. The six characters "Eastern Palace Secret Guard" resounded like a drumbeat, and the flower market was instantly filled with a chilling atmosphere.

Gu Qingping stepped forward and said softly, "This move was indeed intimidating; they all changed their demeanor."

Zhu Biao strolled to the front of the cavalry formation, his gaze sweeping over the knights' masks, which were now only inlaid with silver sand. Behind them, three imperial guards stood holding seals as if on command.

The crown prince's gaze lingered on one of them, and he nodded slightly.

“I summoned my princes and brothers with the pleasures of the flower market, but secretly controlled their internal troubles with the secret guards. Today’s actions have not moved me, but have made the world fearful.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the first advisor from the Prince's mansion was alarmed. He wanted to say something, but dared not cause any more trouble.

In the long pavilion, all the flowers have faded, leaving only the chill of the flute playing.

Transferred to the Emperor's presence.

Zhu Yuanzhang listened to the report with his eyes closed in the Shou'an Hall. His attendants reported on the unusual activities during the Qixi Festival.

His Majesty continued sipping his tea, and after a moment, slowly announced: "Order the Crown Prince's Secret Guard to be incorporated into the Imperial Guards and issued new seals and insignia to demonstrate their authority!"

All the officials kowtowed and said, "As you command!"

Late at night in the back garden of the Prince's Mansion.

Zhu Han arrived carrying a secret report, and Huang Qi and Du Shiqing greeted him.

"Zhou Heng and his ilk have been intimidated," Huang Qi reported. "They have made no further moves tonight."

Zhu Han sighed softly: "If he makes another move, he will reveal his true colors; if he doesn't move, we will know his true intentions. This situation is already broken."

Du Shiqing asked, "Does Your Highness have any backup plans?"

Zhu Han's expression was calm and solemn: "They want to disturb the Crown Prince with the joy of the festival. All things in the Ming Dynasty celebrate together, but they have forgotten the power of the people's hearts. On the first day of the following month, I order the Eastern Palace to set up a 'New Year's Day Political Discussion', instructing all officials to speak frankly about their thoughts and strategies in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, at the time of bidding farewell to the old year and welcoming the new, and to discuss politics with the Crown Prince."

"This move will surely make all the officials in the world realize that the Crown Prince is not only a gentleman who enjoys romantic moments, but also a ruler who establishes the court and makes decisions."

Huang Qi praised, "It complements the Martial Arts Grand View perfectly, truly adding the finishing touch."

Zhu Han nodded: "Furthermore, at this time, all officials are indebted to the emperor. If they cannot submit memorials to discuss politics, they will have nothing to do, and the court's loyalty will naturally be solidified. What I am doing now is merely allowing the Crown Prince to use the festival as an excuse to carry out his plans in late autumn."

Before the Golden Palace, rosy clouds gathered. The officials of the Eastern Palace lined up before the court, and Zhu Biao personally led the scholars of the strategist's platform, with civil and military officials arrayed along the central axis.

All the princes and marquises, both inside and outside the capital, came to pay homage, and the golden pillars were all illuminated by the morning glow.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat on the dragon throne, the golden rays of the setting sun bathing the palace in its light.

Zhu Biao stood beneath the Qianqing Gate, clad in a purple robe, his crown tassels solemn, his gaze piercing.

Zhu Yuanzhang began, “Today, I will hold the annual court session to discuss state affairs. I will not take the memorials from various departments, nor will I follow the elaborate court ceremonies. I will only speak frankly about state affairs with you, my son and the crown prince.”

The courtiers held their breath. Several ministers spoke in turn, some discussing the deployment of the million-strong army, others debating the weight of land taxes, and still others recounting the hardships of the people.

Zhu Biao listened attentively, sometimes nodding, sometimes asking questions in return, every word spoken with composure.

Ji Fu said, “Local officials are governed by rules and regulations, but the taxes levied on the people are still excessive and low. I hope that Your Highness will establish a method of levying taxes and corvée labor that is light and easy at the beginning of spring plowing.”

Zhu Biao responded: "A dispatch office can be established so that the corvée labor of able-bodied men can be raised locally, and the surplus grain can be allocated by the Crown Prince, so as not to make the corvée labor too heavy."

The ministers nodded.

Zhao Rang, Minister of Rites, advised: "The Ministry of Rites often speaks of the old system, but today the common people are eager for simpler rites. I wish that the Crown Prince would create new rites so that the people can feel grateful for the court's benevolent rule in addition to the etiquette."

Zhu Biao then replied: "The strategists can continue the discussion and select three rites and one custom, so that scholars and commoners can easily perform the rites without losing face."

The ministers nodded again.

During this time, the princes and dukes were also allowed to speak and inquire about how the military and political orders of the Crown Prince should complement each other.

Zhu Biao did not shy away from the challenge and answered in a clear and resounding voice.

The hall was finally empty until sunset.

Zhu Yuanzhang stroked his beard and smiled: "I observe that you gentlemen today speak very fluently about politics. The dignity of the Crown Prince lies not in his title but in his talent and virtue."

"Retreat from the court."

The ministers shouted in unison, "Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!"

In front of Zhu Han's independent hall, the firelight illuminated his robes. Gu Qingping entered with a table of documents and said softly, "Your Highness's three grand ceremonies have all concluded, receiving high praise from the court and the public. The Crown Prince's influence is even greater."

Zhu Han nodded slightly: "He has combined the three ceremonies of martial arts, etiquette, and politics into one event, making the whole world submit to the Crown Prince."

Gu Qingping asked softly, "What should we do next?"

Zhu Han turned around, his eyes as black as ink: "Next, we must make sure the Crown Prince has no memory of the word 'Prince' in his heart."

"Although the Prince of Yan's faction has retreated, they may not be truly convinced; although the other princes and lords have submitted, it is unknown when they will rise again." "At this time, the only way is to ensure that the Crown Prince is truly connected with the officials, soldiers, and people. That path will no longer be within the palace walls, but in the open fields."

His tone softened: "In the chilly spring, when the oxen are plowing the fields, and the imperial edicts are being implemented, the Crown Prince must lead his generals to the fields to observe the farming and inquire about the yield in order to win the hearts of the people."

Gu Qingping's eyes crinkled with a smile: "Are you planning a journey for the Crown Prince to mend the Emperor's ways?"

Zhu Han smiled faintly: "Exactly—let him perceive the suffering of the people at the beginning of spring and implement benevolent governance. Simply consolidating his authority in the palace is not enough to ensure his long-term stability."

A system notification appears:

[Side quest "The Emperor's Will and the People's Opinions" progresses: The annual court lecture is completed]

[Reward: Popular support +25, Imperial support +20]

On the ninth day of the second lunar month, the warm sun appeared, the ice and snow melted, and the grass and trees began to sprout.

In the western suburbs of Kyoto, on vast fields, farmers are already carrying plows and harrows, calling to their oxen and dogs, preparing for the planting season in full swing.

In the still chilly weather of early spring, a procession of crimson guards moved slowly by, their banners unfurled, yet their imposing presence was undeniable.

Zhu Biao was dressed in plain clothes, with no jade pendant at his waist, only a white silk ribbon binding him. His gray cloak could not conceal the nascent grandeur between his brows.

Zhu Han followed behind, his cloak still on, his horse's hooves not yet galloping, a smile he could not hide on his lips.

Gu Qingping rode alongside, asking softly, "Your Highness, does the Crown Prince truly intend to personally cultivate the land on this journey?"

Zhu Han did not answer, but pointed to a vast field in front of him: "If he does not hold the plow himself, how can he know how the people live? If he wants to sit firmly on the dragon throne, he must leave his footprints in the soil."

The sound of gongs and drums came from ahead, and a local prefect, his robes disheveled and his face beaming with joy, rushed to greet the emperor: "Your humble servant Zheng Feng greets Your Highness the Crown Prince and Your Highness the Prince of Han!"

Zhu Biao dismounted and, without waiting for an announcement, went straight to the edge of the field, laughing, "No need for formalities. Today I am Zhu Biao, not the Crown Prince."

Zhu Han followed him off his horse, his eyes filled with a meaningful look: "He's right. Today he is a farmer, but he is also the son of the emperor. He must also lay a hoe on this land."

The official was about to pay his respects when Zhu Biao waved his hand to stop him, saying, "Summon the village heads and elders from the nearby villages to come and see me."

A moment later, several gray-haired farmers led a group of young farmers to the scene. The leader had a dark complexion, a hunched back, but sharp eyes.

"I am Liu, the head of the western village of Qianmo Village. I am over sixty years old. Greetings, Your Highness." He bowed with his hands clasped.

Zhu Biao returned the greeting: "Uncle Liu, please don't stand on ceremony. I've heard that this land has been cultivated by four generations. Would you be willing to teach me how to start hoeing?"

Liu Zhuangtou paused for a moment, then replied, "I am willing to plow the land for the Crown Prince, but this land is mud, not brocade; plowing it will only bring pain, not fragrance."

Zhu Biao laughed: "If I were afraid of pain, I wouldn't dare come here."

Zhu Han remained silent, merely watching the scene unfold, a sense of relief rising within him: he had led his nephew step by step to this point, and now they had finally reached the moment to tread this muddy path.

Before long, Zhu Biao changed into plain clothes, rolled up his sleeves, and went into the fields.

With his feet sinking into the mud and the wind blowing in his face, the prince, who was used to a life of luxury, felt the weight of the mud for the first time.

Liu Zhuangtou handed over a wooden plow: "Your Highness, press the plow handle with your left foot and hold the rope with your right hand. Don't move your feet before the ox moves."

Zhu Biao did as he was told. The ox moved slowly, plowing through the furrows and splashing mud and water everywhere.

He tilted to the side and almost fell into a puddle.

Gu Qingping cried out in fright, "Your Highness!"

Zhu Biao stood up with a smile, his robe stained with mud, and said without any hesitation, "It's alright. If I don't do it well, I'll do it again."

Zhu Han stood with his hands behind his back and said loudly, "If I, the Crown Prince of the Great Ming Dynasty, cannot even plow a single plow steadily, how can I hold the plow of the world?"

Everyone laughed, and the tense atmosphere immediately dissipated.

Zhu Biao readjusted his posture and finally, on the third attempt, steadily pulled out a flat ridge, the mud churning and the water rising, the line as straight as a bow.

The village head nodded repeatedly: "His Highness the Crown Prince's skill is more reliable than that of any of the lads in our village."

Zhu Biao, covered in mud, smiled freely and looked at Zhu Han: "Uncle, if I were to abandon my official robes, would I be able to get a meal from you?"

Zhu Han nodded with his hands behind his back, a smile in his eyes: "If you can really grow grain, I will not only provide you with food, but also wine."

After this farming season, the crown prince did not rush back to the capital. Instead, he chose a place to set up a simple shed and ate with the farmers.

As the smoke rose from the chimneys, Zhu Biao sat down on the ground, took a bite of his coarse rice bun, frowned as he chewed it, and then smiled:

"This taste is bitter, but it's comforting."

Liu Zhuangtou sighed, "If Your Highness could do this every year, the people of the world would know that the Crown Prince not only looks at the country from the Golden Palace, but also looks at the harvest in our own land."

Zhu Biao stood up solemnly and bowed to the villagers, saying, "I will come again next spring for plowing."

The farmers were all deeply moved by the sight and returned the greeting, saying, "Respectfully seeing off Your Highness the Crown Prince!"

Zhu Han stood behind the crowd, not uttering a word, only gazing at the plowed field, silently thinking: "If you can keep the soil in your heart, then the throne will not float."

On the way back to the capital, Zhu Biao rode alone with Zhu Han. The night wind was slightly chilly, and the fragrance of the fields still lingered.

Zhu Biao spoke up: "Imperial Uncle, I only realized today that the hardest things to obtain in this world are a meal and a piece of clothing."

Zhu Han smiled and said, "You must remember that no matter how high the court is, if you forget this land, you will only be standing on empty air."

Zhu Biao nodded and then asked, "If Father Emperor knew about my trip, what would he think?"

Zhu Han said calmly, "He knew you would go. He asked me to secretly make arrangements for the safety of the countryside—just because he didn't say anything doesn't mean he didn't see it."

Zhu Biao remained silent.

After a long silence, he whispered, "And what about you?"

Zhu Hanlue tilted his head slightly: "Me? I'm seeing if you're truly willing to take off that brocade robe."

Zhu Biao smiled: "I'm willing."

On the third day of the third lunar month, a gentle breeze caressed the willows, and the flowers in the outskirts of Beijing were in full bloom.

An imperial edict was issued from the Eastern Palace: "The Crown Prince will set out a test at the Imperial Academy, and three days later, a trial of the wise will be held at the Wenchang Hall."

Students, successful candidates in the imperial examinations, those who passed the provincial examinations, and those from humble backgrounds with ambition are all welcome to answer questions.

The news caused a sensation. The Crown Prince was recruiting talent without regard to convention, asking questions without considering background or social status.

This move was like a thunderclap in spring for scholars. In an instant, students from both the north and south flocked to the capital, paper became scarce in the East Market, and bookstores were packed with people.

While devising a plan, Zhu Han quietly left the palace, taking Huang Qi and two guards with him, and went to the outskirts of Tongzhou Village.

This is no coincidence.

"Your Highness, this place was once a granary and agricultural settlement. The current stabilization of grain prices is largely due to this," Huang Qi reported.

Zhu Han rode slowly, looking down at the boundless wheat field: "What you learn from books is never enough. The mud on this ground is more real than ten memorials from the capital."

He suddenly reined in his horse and his gaze fell on a group of children not far away.

It was a low-ceilinged schoolhouse, its doors worn and its window paper tattered. A dozen or so children were reciting the *Great Learning* aloud. The teacher, with his thinning hair and beard, spoke with a clear and resonant voice. (End of Chapter)