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

The children picked it up quickly, and soon some of them learned how to walk and look around.

The sugar painting vendor's shouts also changed: "Look at the sugar painting, look at the footsteps, if you can keep your footsteps steady, I'll draw you a big dragon."

"No need for a dragon," the children said in unison. "Draw a drum instead."

The sugar painting vendor was taken aback, then laughed so hard his beard flew up, and in the blink of an eye, he drew them a round drum.

When I returned to the old academy, the sky was already turning west.

There was another pair of shoes hanging on the door; they were women's shoes, delicate, with two small, wind-shaped flowers embroidered on the toes.

Bai Yu jumped up to tie the red rope, but accidentally got his finger tangled in it. Wang Fu laughed at him, saying, "You should stand there for half an hour too."

"I'll stand," Bai Yu retorted. "I'll stand until you submit."

"I disagree." Wang Fu raised his chin. "I only admire Shi Buwai."

"You two are making a lot of noise." Shi Buwai sat on the doorstep, squinting. "It's so noisy I can't sleep."

People dispersed at night. Zhu Yuanzhang did not leave; he stayed under the eaves and asked someone to bring a small square table, weighing down the four corners with stones to prevent it from being blown over by the wind.

Zhu Han placed the wooden signs that read "Stand, Walk, Collect" on the table, and put the signs that read "Give Way" and "Turn" aside.

He didn't speak, but just ran his fingers along the edge of the wooden sign.

The wooden sign bears the sweat and the touch of human hands; the more you touch it, the deeper the valley seems to grow.

"Add one more," Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly said. "'Stop.'"

"Stop?" Bai Zan repeated subconsciously.

“Stopping doesn’t mean not moving,” Zhu Yuanzhang said slowly. “It means stopping when you should stop. If someone stumbles in front of us and we don’t stop, we’ll knock them down; if someone is panting behind us and we don’t stop, they won’t be able to catch up; if we’re too fast-paced, our steps will become erratic. Stop for a moment, take a breath, and then continue moving forward.”

Bai Zan's eyes lit up: "I'll carve it!"

Shi Buwai snorted: "No matter how ugly it is, it's still smarter than yours."

Bai Zan didn't argue with him and skipped to the storeroom with the plaque in her arms.

Zhu Biao, who was watching from the side, suddenly said, "Uncle, I have a good idea of ​​what's going on with the three teams I've seen today."

"Tell me," Zhu Han said, looking at him.

“Wang Fuxin is carefree and easily amused when leading people. Once he’s done laughing, he forgets to stop. I’ve assigned him someone who keeps his mouth shut.”

Zhu Biao gestured with his hands, "Gu Chen is too quick to judge people, he wants to correct them as soon as he sees them, and he gets impatient easily. I'll have him beat a drum first; Lu Yicong is patient, but sometimes he's too cautious, afraid of the weight, and he doesn't dare to take care of the child. I'll have him take care of the child."

"Take care of children?" Zhu Yuanzhang raised an eyebrow.

“Children are the most troublesome,” Zhu Biao laughed. “If he can take good care of children, it will be easier for him to take care of adults.”

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded in satisfaction: "This lad is sensible."

“He is my nephew,” Zhu Han said, feigning pride.

“He’s my son.” Zhu Yuanzhang wouldn’t allow it and reached out to flick Zhu Han’s forehead. “Stop trying to take advantage.”

Everyone burst into laughter. After the laughter subsided, Zhu Han suddenly said, "Brother, I won't be in the city tomorrow."

Zhu Yuanzhang's gaze sharpened: "Where to?"

“Go to the old neighborhood in the south of the city.” Zhu Han tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “The streets there are narrow, there are few shops, and many people are just walking around, mostly outsiders doing manual labor. I’ll go see how they get there.”

"Go by yourself?" Zhu Yuanzhang frowned.

“Take three people,” Zhu Han said. “Wang Fu, Shi Buwai, and Bai Yu. The rest of you stay here.”

"I'm not at ease," Zhu Yuanzhang said after a moment of silence. "I'll have someone follow them from a distance."

"I don't care who you send," Zhu Han laughed, "but don't let them beat the drums."

"I know," Zhu Yuanzhang smiled, but his eyes remained calm. "Be careful."

"I'm not going to fight a war," Zhu Han joked. "I'm going for a walk."

On the third day, just as dawn broke, Zhu Han led the three of them out of the city gate.

The streets in the old neighborhood of the city are narrower, the eaves are low, the walls are mottled, and the ground is uneven, like a piece of paper that has been crumpled and then flattened.

Each of the three carried a small drum, and Bai Yu also carried a bundle of short wooden poles.

Shi Buwai lowered the basket even further, as if afraid of waking Lu, who was fast asleep.

The first place we encountered was a stall selling rough porcelain.

The stall owner was a young man with a tired look on his face and worn-out fingers.

He pushed a rough porcelain bowl onto the table, squinting as he looked you over: "Are you one of those people who walk around the city?"

"Yes." Zhu Han smiled. "You're leaving too?"

"It doesn't matter whether I leave or not," the young man said calmly. "I have to look at money every time I look up."

Shi Buwai snorted: "If you don't look at the feet, you won't see the money."

The young man was about to lose his temper, so Zhu Han spoke first: "Come on, take three steps. If you can walk steadily, I'll buy ten bowls from you."

The young man was surprised that someone would buy his bowl, and a hint of hesitation flashed in his eyes.

He gritted his teeth and took three steps, but the third step was a bit messy, so he stopped.

He stood still, as if afraid to move, or as if he was afraid that these three steps would sell him out.

"Ten." Zhu Han nodded, then beckoned to Bai Yu, "Give me the money."

Bai Yu smiled and placed the money on the stall. The young man opened his mouth, wanting to say "no," but then looked up at Zhu Han and ultimately didn't say anything.

He wrapped the ten bowls in straw and stuffed them into the small basket on Bai Yu's back: "Don't drop them."

"Look at you." Shi Buwai examined the abrasions on his fingers closely. "Your hands...do you polish porcelain at night?"

"We have to polish it," the young man said with a wry smile. "If we don't polish it, it won't shine, and if it doesn't shine, no one will buy it."

"Did you soak it in water?" Shi Buwai asked.

"Soak it," the young man whispered, "and your hands will wrinkle."

“Wrinkled means stable.” Without waiting for a reply, Shi Buwai grabbed his hand and guided it through his basket. “Feel the pebbles, feel the rough ones, the smooth ones, the sharp ones, the round ones. Once you feel them, your heart will know which way to go.”

The young man was both amused and exasperated, but he did as instructed anyway.

When he withdrew his hand, his palm was red, but his eyes calmed down a little: "I understand."

As I walked along, I came across a mother and daughter selling vegetables.

The little girl hung the basket too far out, with the opening facing the ground, and the cucumbers were rolling around inside.

Wang Fu shook his head as he watched, then walked over and tightened the basket rope: "Don't let your clumsy dog ​​run away. If it runs away, you'll chase after it, and you'll get anxious when you do."

The little girl smiled and softly hummed in agreement. Her mother thanked Wang Fu, her eyes filled with genuine gratitude.

Walking to the center of the old neighborhood, there was a cloth shed providing shade.

A dozen or so people were gathered around a bare wooden stake under the shed, discussing what they would use it for.

Some people said they would use it as a clothes rack, some said as a doorpost, and others said as a beam.

They argued fiercely, but neither side could convince the other.

"Stop arguing." Shi Buwai threw the basket to the ground, sat on the post, and said, "Stop."

Everyone was stunned: "What?"

"Stop." Shi Buwai held up a finger. "You've been arguing here for so long, and people who want to leave are going around you. As they go around, they end up crowding onto the side of the street."

If you place this stake in the middle of the road, people coming from the front will slow down and pull back when they see it; people coming from the back will also know to give way.

"If you don't write, just use this stick; let someone touch it and remember the word 'stop.'"

The crowd looked at each other, and after a while, the oldest man nodded: "That makes sense." He told two people to carry the stake: "Don't make it too high and thin, make it a little lower and thicker, it'll be more stable."

“Yes!” Shi Buwai chuckled. “You guys are smart.”

Zhu Han stood aside, watching the people of the old workshop erect the stakes, and then watching them spontaneously carve shallow marks on the stakes.

Each scratch is like a finger lingering on the wood. As the crowd disperses, the wooden post in the middle of the road stands like a silent drum, reminding one to reflect.

"Your Highness," Bai Yu said softly, "should we leave something behind too?"

"Leave it," Zhu Han said. "I won't leave any words, just a pair of shoes."

Bai Yu immediately understood.

He took out a pair of the most stable straw sandals from his basket, the ones with fine stone patterns on the soles, and hung them at the entrance of the old neighborhood with a red rope.

When the wind blows, the straw sandals sway gently, as if greeting people.

It was nearly dusk when we got back to the city.

A group of people had already gathered in front of the old academy, waiting to line up the three teams again.

Zhu Biao stood under the door, his eyes red-rimmed, but he was in excellent spirits.

He held up a piece of paper for Zhu Han to see—it wasn't writing, but rows of fingerprints, some deep and some shallow.

"What is this?" Zhu Han laughed.

“A human hand,” Zhu Biao said.

“I don’t use words. I have them put their hands on it. They do it three times: the first time they can’t stand steadily, the second time they can stand steadily, and the third time they can walk. I can tell who is confused and who is calm by looking at the marks.”

"Your method is good," Zhu Han nodded. "It's more honest than words on paper."

"I think it looks beautiful," Li Yu whispered from the side. "It looks like a leaf."

"Like a flag." Wang Fu didn't understand leaves, but he understood flags.

In the dim light of the day, five pairs of shoes hung on the door today, the red ropes rustling softly in the wind.

The knife sharpener washed his hands thoroughly, stood under the door and secretly watched for a long time before leaving.

The flower seller came again, his load much more steady; the water carrier shortened his load by an inch, his smile genuine; the sauce seller closed the stove a little, saying, "A smaller fire keeps my mind calm."

Zhu Yuanzhang stood outside the crowd, without saying a word.

He watched people come and go, watched the drum be passed from one hand to the other, watched the red rope move from one place to another, and watched the shoes go from the feet to the door.

He suddenly reached out and pressed down on Zhu Han's shoulder: "Little brother."

"Ok?"

"I've been sleeping better than usual these past few days."

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at the shoes on the door and thought, "It's as if I can hear an invisible melody."

“That’s the heartbeat of the city,” Zhu Han laughed. “When they’re all in one place, they don’t get chaotic.”

“Tomorrow,” Zhu Yuanzhang said slowly, “you can continue your journey. I won’t stop you. But remember, don’t let anyone know how far you’ve gone—let them only remember how many steps they’ve taken.”

“I remember,” Zhu Han nodded.

As night deepened and the lights went out, people dispersed like a tide.

Zhu Han walked to the wooden sign, placed the small "Stop" sign next to the "Give way" sign, and pushed the "Turn" sign up so that it was close to the "Go" sign.

He stepped back, as if looking at a line of soldiers standing in the wind.

The wind pressed down from the roof ridge, slipped under the lintel, and whistled through the gaps in the soles of shoes, as if saying, "Tomorrow."

The next morning, two things appeared at the entrance of the old academy: a small wooden box and a tattered felt blanket.

The wooden box had two words written on it: "Borrowing Shoes".

The felt had two characters written on it: “Sun-drying the bottom”.

The handwriting was crooked and slanted, like a child's. Bai Yu patted his chest and said, "I wrote it."

"It's good that it's ugly." Shi Buwai laughed heartily, "It looks more approachable."

Those who come should first take off their shoes, stand on the felt for three breaths, and then put them back on.

Those without shoes could borrow a pair from the box, reinforcing the soles with the straw ropes they had walked on the previous day.

The straw sandal seller was like a little scholar, holding a coarse needle and fine thread, able to tell at a glance which pair was loose and which was tight.

"Your Highness!" Gu Chen ran over excitedly, "I've thought of a method—"

"explain."

"I want people to remember their first step."

Gu Chen said, “It’s not three steps, it’s not thirty steps, it’s just the first step. Many people are afraid of the first step, as if they were afraid of a deep ditch. I give them a board with a line drawn on it, and tell them to step over it and then look back at the line—that line is just like their yesterday.”

"You do it," Zhu Han laughed. "Don't use words, use lines."

Gu Chen took two steps, then turned around: "Your Highness, look—am I becoming more and more like you?"

“Yes, like,” Zhu Han nodded, “but you have to be like yourself.”

Gu Chen was taken aback, then smiled and said, "Yes."

In the afternoon, the city sun was gentle, and the air smelled of noodles.

Li Yu sat by the door, his eyes half-closed, his fingertips lightly tapping the drum surface.

He suddenly heard someone sit down beside him, breathing very lightly.

He turned his head and saw Zhu Biao.

"I...I'll knock a little longer," Li Yu whispered. "Aren't you bothered by the noise?"

"Don't make a sound." Zhu Biao sat down against the pillar. "Knock on it for me."

Li Yu nodded, the drumbeats sounding like a thin stream.

He suddenly said, "Your Highness, you are walking more and more steadily."

“I have you all,” Zhu Biao laughed. “With you watching me, I’m not afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” Li Yu said in a low voice. “I used to be afraid that people would laugh at me for my stuttering, but now I’m not afraid. When I’m playing the drum, people hear the drum, not me.”

"What others hear is you."

Zhu Biao shook his head, "You're just hiding yourself behind the drum. When you can play that tune without the drum one day, then you can give the drum to someone else."

Li Yu paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Okay."

As evening approached, a series of disordered footsteps suddenly echoed along the long street in the east of the city.

Bai Yu ran to the door and saw a man in red carrying a bamboo pole rushing over, panting, "Your Highness, Your Highness—"

"Don't rush." ​​Shi Buwai pressed down on his shoulder. "Stand still for three breaths."

Zhu Biao struggled to steady himself before saying, "In that alley in the east of the city, someone carrying a sedan chair almost bumped into someone carrying loads, and a crowd has gathered around. Could you...could you go and take a look?"

"Go." Zhu Han stood up, grabbed the small signs that said "Let" and "Stop," and said, "Take the red string with you."

"I'll go ahead." Zhu Yuanzhang had already appeared inside the door at some point. His voice was not loud, but it brooked no argument.

The group quickly walked to the entrance of the alley in the east of the city.

Sure enough, a sedan chair was parked in the middle of the alley, the porter's stick was swaying, the shoulder of the porter was red and swollen, and his eyes were full of anger.

People on both sides stood around, and neither side was willing to back down.

"Make way." Zhu Han stuck the red rope into the ground. His voice wasn't loud, but it made people involuntarily move half a step away.

Without asking who was right or wrong, he walked to the side of the sedan chair and placed his hand on the sedan chair pole: "Lift it up a bit, let me hear the sound from your shoulder."

The sedan chair carriers were puzzled, but they did as instructed.

Zhu Han closed his eyes, placed his fingers on the wood grain, and pressed lightly: "Your paces are out of sync, one is fast and the other is slow. The one who is slow is resentful and is deliberately dragging his feet."

The slower one blushed and was about to argue when Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly lifted the sedan chair pole, slumped his shoulders, and took three steps forward.

He didn't walk fast, but he brought everyone's rhythm with him.

Once he stopped, the man carrying the load was no longer angry. (End of Chapter)