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

He stared intently, as if he wanted to carry the red rope on his back.

After the procession had passed, he suddenly caught up with Zhu Han and grabbed him, saying, "Your Highness, I want to leave too."

“Let’s go,” Zhu Han said. “Take three steps.”

The knife sharpener stepped onto the bluestone, his foot landing as steadily and smoothly as if it were on his whetstone.

He took five steps, then laughed to himself, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: "Hey, I thought all I knew was how to sharpen knives."

“You’re a pain in the neck,” Shi Buwai interjected from behind, “you polish yourself until you shine.”

The knife sharpener paused, then suddenly stopped laughing and nodded seriously: "That makes sense."

The procession stopped at the corner of the long street.

Ahead was a butcher shop, with curtains hanging in front and behind it, and the floor was shiny with oil.

Two burly men were carrying out a wooden bucket, the water inside shaking violently.

Upon seeing the rope team, the burly men hesitated slightly, one of them saying impatiently, "You're blocking the way."

“We’ll walk through the gap, so we won’t block the way.” Zhu Han walked over and pointed to the narrow gap by the curtain. “Let’s borrow your shadows for a bit.”

The burly man glanced down and sneered, "It's your skill if you can get through."

The crowd fell silent. Li Yu hugged the drum tightly, tapping his fingers against the center of his palm, as if laying an invisible plank for the people in front of him.

Zhu Biao stepped forward without saying a word. He first rubbed the soles of his shoes lightly on the ground to wipe off some of the oil before stepping out.

The first step was to steady himself, the second step was to be light, and on the third step, his shoulders suddenly sank slightly, suppressing the floating air in his upper body.

After he passed through the narrow gap, he turned back and smiled at the burly man: "Excuse me."

The burly man was stunned and couldn't help but click his tongue: "Not easy."

"You guys should give it a try too," Zhu Han said.

The burly man snorted, and the man carrying the bucket put it down first. He casually lifted the curtain halfway and, imitating Zhu Biao, gently wiped the oil off the soles of his feet.

He took three steps, and almost slipped on the third step, but luckily he had a strong waist and caught himself.

When he reached the end, he laughed to himself: "It wasn't my feet that slipped, it was my heart that slipped."

“Yes.” Zhu Han nodded. “When you get back, wipe the water in front of your stall so that others won’t slip on it.”

"I'll ski myself to save money."

The burly man said arrogantly, but then scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Thank you."

As the crowd grew, the sounds along the long street became increasingly complex.

In the distance, there was the creaking of wheels rolling over stone slabs; nearby, someone was hawking steamed buns, a child was crying, and then being comforted by a sugar cake vendor.

Those red ropes, like tiny flags, stood in narrow, winding, and crowded places.

Li Yu's drumming was sometimes soft, sometimes quiet, and sometimes it would leave a blank beat so that people on both sides could pass each other.

"Uncle," Zhu Biao said in a low voice as he looked at the text, "I want to add one more word to 'stand, walk, collect, yield'."

"Which one?" Zhu Han asked.

“‘Turn,’” Zhu Biao said. “There are too many corners, and it’s easy for people to bump into each other if they walk straight. We need to teach them how to turn.”

"You teach me," Zhu Han laughed. "You're in charge today."

Zhu Biao responded and walked to the front of the line: "Listen to me, everyone. I'll teach you a 'turn'—it's not your feet that turn first, it's your mind that turns first. Observe which way the person in front of you is slumping their shoulders, and use the shadow of their shoulders to switch feet. Don't let your toes cross the line, and slowly bring your heels over. If anyone can't turn, stop for a moment, don't rush."

"I'll go first!" Wang Fu was never afraid to try. He turned around, lifted his heels, and looked like a plump crane, clumsy yet agile.

"Wait." Zhu Biao reached out and pressed his shoulder. "Your shoulders are too high. Lower them by a bit, that'll help."

Wang Fu followed the same method, and he succeeded the second time.

Two "tsk tsk" sounds came from the crowd; some imitated it, while others laughed.

Shi Buwai grumbled from the side, "Stop scrambling, take turns, one by one. What's the rush? Those who rush will just get confused themselves."

"Who are you calling a liar?" Bai Yu retorted.

“I’m talking about you.” Shi Bu glanced at him sideways. “You get excited as soon as you see a solution, and when you get excited, you get anxious.”

Bai Yu stuck out her tongue and gripped the short wooden stick in her hand even tighter: "I'm not in a hurry, I'm excited."

"Excitement can also knock people down," Shi Buwai snorted.

After the group turned a corner, there was a small downhill slope ahead, with a shallow puddle at the bottom of the slope, which was right at the intersection of two stone slabs.

The sky was reflected in the water like a shattered mirror. Several children jumped around the puddle, splashing water everywhere.

Upon seeing the crowd, they stepped aside, but were unwilling to leave.

"Don't chase them away," Zhu Han said. "We'll walk through the water."

"Your shoes will get wet." Wang Fu felt sorry for his newly changed straw sandals.

"It'll dry after it gets wet once," Zhu Han laughed. "People who are afraid of getting wet will only ever stand by a puddle."

He was the first to step into the water. The water was chilly to the touch, and the soles of his feet tightened, but he laughed instead.

Li Yu gently struck the drumstick, and the crowd followed suit.

The children were so engrossed in watching that they suddenly stopped jumping and started imitating them, slowly landing in the water with one foot, then two feet.

A child stepped on the water too hard, splashing water on his face. He paused for a moment, wiped it off, and then laughed.

"Your Highness," the knife sharpener caught up, holding up his newly sharpened knife, "I also crossed the water."

"Knives should not be exposed to water," Manager Liu chimed in from behind.

“I have oil,” the knife sharpener retorted. “After the water comes out, I’ll wipe it clean again.”

"Don't argue." Gu Chen laughed. "You two, you're working together today—he cleans, you collect."

"What do you want to buy?" Manager Liu asked.

"Stop walking in front of your shop."

Gu Chen said, "Your shop's entrance is the slipperiest, so hang a small wooden sign with the word 'Slow' written on it. Next to the knife sharpener's stall, hang a sign that says 'Let's Go.' Since your two shops are next to each other, keep an eye on each other."

Manager Liu was about to retort, but he swallowed his words and finally hummed, "Fine."

By the time they reached the end of the long street, it was nearly noon. Zhu Yuanzhang opened the cloth bag, inside which were small cakes, thinly sliced ​​meat, and a few dates.

He had the white hairpin distributed to everyone.

Wang Fu didn't grab it; he waited until he finally got a piece of cake, and then he grinned from ear to ear.

Li Yu sat on the threshold, munching on a pancake, with a drum resting on his knees, his fingers tapping against the edge of the drum.

"Which hand is steadyer?" Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly asked.

Li Yu was taken aback: "Right hand."

"Then let the left hand go first," Zhu Yuanzhang laughed. "Let the steady hand wait a bit, give the unsteady hand some time."

Li Yu stared at him blankly, then nodded: "I'll remember."

After a short rest, Zhu Han divided the people into three groups.

Zhu Biao carried one, Gu Chen carried one, and Wang Fu carried one.

Each pole has a red rope at the front, a small drum at the back, and short wooden poles scattered in the middle.

Shi Buwai carried his basket, heading towards whichever side was making the noise, muttering to himself, "Slow down, slow down even more, whoever is in a hurry can go back and start over."

The three teams are like three thin rivers: one flows north, one flows east, and one winds back to the old academy.

They walked through the streets, some people watched, some laughed, and some even tried to take three steps along.

Some people impatiently squeezed past, but they didn't get angry. They simply moved the red rope to the side, made a small step back, and then took the racket back.

As the sun began to set, the three rivers converged again at the entrance of the old academy. The three pairs of shoes from yesterday hung on the gate, with another pair added beside them, the red rope longer, hanging down with a small knot at the end.

"Four pairs today?" Bai Yu counted. "Whose are they?"

“One of them is Li Yu,” Zhu Biao said. “He plays the drums very steadily.”

Li Yu hurriedly waved his hands: "I...I can't."

"You're good," Zhu Biao laughed. "You didn't cause any trouble today."

"What about the other pair?" Bai Yu asked again.

“The knife sharpener,” Gu Chen said. “He cleaned the water, and when he came back, he even helped me clean the drum.”

"I didn't clean it very well," the knife sharpener said apologetically. "Please don't mind."

“I find it disgusting,” Lu Yicong suddenly interjected, but with a smile on his face. “You can wipe it again tomorrow.”

“Okay.” The knife sharpener replied hastily.

The night wind rose again. The group sat under the eaves and ate a pot of noodle soup cooked by Bai Zan.

Wang Fu ate quickly, Gu Chen ate slowly, and Lu Yicong picked up the noodles, put them down, picked them up again, and put them down again, as if he was adjusting the rhythm.

Shi Buwai drank a bowl of wine, but didn't get drunk. He cursed a couple of times, and then started laughing at himself.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat to the side, looking at the group of people with a light in his eyes, as if the fire from many years ago had been reignited.

“Tomorrow,” Zhu Han put down his bowl, “we’ll go to that long street in the west of the city.”

“I’ll go,” Zhu Biao replied immediately.

“You’re not going,” Zhu Han shook his head. “You stay here. Go through the people in the three teams you led today, one by one, and see who is restless, who is hesitant, and who is lazy. Remember their thoughts. Anyone can walk a road, but people are different.”

"Yes." Zhu Biao stopped smiling and became serious.

"I'm going to the west of the city," Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly said.

Everyone was stunned for a moment. Zhu Han looked at him: "Royal Brother—"

"I'll go first," Zhu Yuanzhang said with a slight smile. "I'll take three steps, and everyone else will follow three steps. You'll stay behind and keep an eye on things."

"Okay." Zhu Han didn't refuse anymore.

“Your Highness.” Bai Zan neatly stacked the empty bowls, then suddenly raised her hand. “Tomorrow I plan to put up a sign at the intersection in the west of the city. It won’t be a sign with words written on it, but a wooden board with four shallow indentations: ‘Stand, Walk, Keep, Give Way.’ Whoever passes by can touch it with their finger and remember it.”

"Alright." Zhu Han smiled. "Go and carve it."

"My carving is ugly," Bai Zan said guiltily.

“Even ugliness has its admirers.” Shi Buwai yawned. “Human hands are the best teachers. Touching them, they are etched into your heart.”

The next day, just as dawn broke, there weren't many people on the west side of the city street.

The stone slabs there were older, with deeper cracks. Those carrying water, peddlers, and cart pushers walked with a lingering weariness from the night. Zhu Yuanzhang walked to the street, not in a hurry.

He glanced back at the group, his gaze sweeping across the faces of Wang Fu, Gu Chen, Lu Yicong, Li Yu, Shi Buwai, and Bai Yu, finally stopping at Zhu Han as if shaking hands.

"Let's go," he said.

The first step lands lightly on the edge of the crevice. The second step steps steadily over the protrusion.

The third step involved using the shadow of a nearby door to stop the movement, a deep, resonant sound. Li Yu's drumbeat wasn't loud, but it was like a thin thread pulled out from under the emperor's feet and stretched forward.

The people behind them unconsciously followed suit, putting their feet into that invisible line.

"Who are you?" A man pushing a cart stared at them blankly. "You only take three steps?"

"Let's start with three steps," Wang Fu laughed. "Walking too much will get tiring, so let's start with three steps."

"What can you do by taking three steps?" the man asked, unconvinced.

"You go first." Gu Chen held onto the handlebars. "I'll let go after you walk three steps without getting out of breath."

The man was skeptical, but after taking three steps, he wasn't out of breath.

Gu Chen smiled and let go. He took three more steps, getting more and more comfortable with each step. After ten steps, he laughed to himself, "Turns out I've been running around aimlessly all day."

"Running around is tiring," Gu Chen said. "Walking steadily is not tiring."

"I remember." The man scratched his head. "Are you coming again tomorrow?"

"Come here," Wang Fu said loudly, "but not necessarily here."

The man asked dejectedly, "Then where can I find you?"

"Listen to the drums," Li Yu whispered.

“Listen to the wind,” Zhu Han said.

The man paused for a moment, then suddenly realized and nodded emphatically.

People often carry water back and forth on one side of the street, the buckets on both ends of the wooden carrying pole bobbing close to their shoulders.

Shi Buwai, displeased, pointed and said, "Your carrying pole is too long; you might bump into someone and not even realize it."

The water carrier glared at him: "I've been carrying water for ten years."

“If you pick it for ten years, your shoulders will be crooked for ten years too.” Shi Buwai showed no mercy. “It will be one inch shorter.”

Just as the water carrier was about to argue back, Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly walked over and took the load from him without saying a word.

The person carrying water was startled and quickly reached out to grab it, shouting, "Put it down, put it down—"

"Watch this." Zhu Yuanzhang pulled the carrying rope in half an inch, changed the angle of his shoulder, took three steps, and then put it back. "This way, carrying things for half a day won't make your skin ache."

The water carrier stared blankly for a long time before whispering, "You...you've done manual labor before."

"We all did it when we were kids," Zhu Yuanzhang laughed. "We all did it. We just forgot about it later."

The water carrier gave an "oh," then his eyes suddenly reddened. He turned his face away and muttered, "I'll come stand here tomorrow too."

“Come here,” Zhu Han replied.

After walking through two alleys, there is another narrow slope, at the end of which is the entrance of an old ancestral hall.

The steps at the entrance had been worn down into crescent-shaped gaps, making them slippery.

A servant was carrying a pile of bamboo baskets out from inside when his foot slipped on the edge, and he almost tumbled down with the baskets.

Li Yu lightly tapped his drumstick, and the people in front instinctively slowed down. Zhu Han stepped forward and took one of the bamboo baskets: "Slow down."

The servant was so frightened that his face turned pale, and he nodded repeatedly, "Thank you... thank you..."

"Don't thank me." Zhu Han handed the basket back to him. "When you come out tomorrow, wipe the soles of your shoes first. There's a missing piece of wood by the door, so put a plank under it."

"I...I have to ask the manager," the servant said timidly.

"You pay first," Zhu Han said calmly. "If the person in charge scolds you after you pay, tell him to come find me."

The servant stared at him blankly, then suddenly gritted his teeth and said, "I'll fill it."

The group descended the steps and arrived at a tea stall. The old man selling tea tapped his teapot on the wooden table, the steam rising from it: "Have some water before you go."

Zhu Yuanzhang took a bowl, smiled but didn't drink it, and handed it to Li Yu: "The drummer drinks first."

Li Yu caught it with both hands, but before he could even put it to his mouth, Shi Buwai slapped his hand on the back: "Hot! Be careful."

Li Yu stuck out his tongue, laughed, and blew on the bowl.

Gu Chen picked up a wooden spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and stirred it gently, as if he were tuning a piece of music. Wang Fu handed two bowls to the man pushing the cart, whispering as he did so, "Don't drink it all at once, take your time."

"I know." The man suddenly felt that he also understood the meaning of "slow," and his heart warmed for a while.

After finishing their water, Zhu Han led the group back. He wasn't in a hurry to return to the hospital and deliberately chose a different route with more people.

At the intersection, there were vendors selling sugar paintings, their sticky faces swarming around the children like bees; sedan chair bearers stopped in the shadows to rest their shoulders; and a lame yellow dog lay dozing against the wall.

"Make way." Bai Zan stuck the red rope against the wall and said to the children with a smile, "Look at the sugar painting in three steps, and watch your feet in three steps." (End of Chapter)