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

Zhu Biao nodded. When the flute began to play, the crowd fell silent.

After five notes, he put down the flute, but instead of being smug, he said seriously, "I've remembered, I mustn't be greedy."

Zhu Han looked at him, a smile in his eyes.

As night deepened, the fog over Nanshikou once again enveloped the red rope shed.

The lanterns under the awning emitted a warm yellow light, like watchful eyes in the night.

Zhu Han sat behind the table, the bamboo ruler tucked back into his sleeve, his expression calm and composed.

The wooden sign remained on the table, the three characters "Touch the rope first" gleaming faintly with gold under the light.

The wind was a bit chilly tonight, but there was an undercurrent of restlessness, creeping along the streets and alleys little by little.

He looked up and saw a group of yamen runners in green robes hurrying towards him in the distance. Their steps were neat but they couldn't suppress their voices, as if someone was deliberately slowing down their breathing, but they still couldn't hide the urgency in their chests.

"Your Highness," the leading constable bowed and said in a low voice, "outside the east gate of the imperial city, a group of out-of-town porters are causing trouble, saying they are dissatisfied with their ranking in the city and want to break into the city to transport goods. The local officials said that the yamen cannot be opened at night, and asked Your Highness to take charge."

Zhu Han's eyes flickered, landing on the wooden sign, and he tapped it lightly twice with his fingers.

He didn't get up immediately, but asked, "Did they touch the rope?"

The constable was taken aback, then shook his head: "No, Your Highness. Those people were rude, they didn't even respect the city gate guards, they said 'first come, first served' and insisted on forcing their way in."

Zhu Han slowly stood up, put on his outer robe, and said in a calm and unhurried voice, "Then let them touch it."

When he stepped out of the shed, the fog outside the city gate was thick, and the lights made the air seem to be filled with a layer of fine snow.

Dozens of porters, carrying large and small bags, gathered at the door, arguing noisily.

Someone angrily shouted, "I walked for three days and three nights, why should those who came later be in front!"

Someone else shouted, "I'm transporting urgent goods! They belong to the imperial merchants! Do you dare stop me?"

The minor officials in the yamen huddled by the door, afraid of being caught in the crossfire. A yamen runner stepped forward and shouted, "Silence! The Prince has arrived!"

The porters were making a fuss when they suddenly saw Zhu Han wearing a dark brocade robe, with a calm expression and an imposing aura. They all immediately lowered their voices.

Zhu Han didn't speak, but raised his hand, and several attendants immediately brought a long red rope from under the canopy and tied it between the stone pillars and wooden stakes in front of the city gate.

In the night fog, the red rope resembled a dragon lying quietly, its breathing steady.

"Touch the rope first." Zhu Han's voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, as if the fog itself parted to hear it.

Some people disagreed and sneered, "Does Your Highness also want to learn those petty tricks from the marketplace? We rely on our own efforts and hard work, not on touching ropes!"

Zhu Han glanced at the man, his eyes extremely indifferent: "You're right, it depends on both physical distance and mental distance. Feel it for yourself before you speak."

The man hesitated for a moment, then reached out and touched the rope.

The red string was a little damp in the night fog. When I placed my palm on it, the coolness slid down my fingertips and into my hand, as if something had quietly taken away some of the dryness.

He was startled and was about to stop when Zhu Han said calmly, "Stop half an inch."

He froze, his hand not immediately withdrawing, his heart skipped a beat.

Zhu Han looked around: "You have all traveled a long and arduous journey, each with your own hardships. But outside the city gate, it's not about who shouts the loudest, but about knowing your own path. What you carry, what you lift, what you carry on your shoulders are all different. The fog is heavy at night, and if you rush forward all at once and crash, you will only destroy your own strength."

The porters looked at each other, and some of them gradually calmed down.

Zhu Han waved his hand: "Come on, everyone, touch the rope. After you've touched it, we'll talk about who goes first and who goes last."

Dozens of people stepped forward one by one.

Some people, though clumsy, slowed down the moment they touched the rope; others, who were initially arrogant, became silent in front of the red rope.

The night fog was like a slowly opening pot, steaming out the anger in people's hearts.

Zhu Han stood with his hands behind his back and asked, "Tell me yourselves: who walked the farthest distance along the way; who carried the most easily damaged goods; and who carried the heaviest load?"

The crowd had stopped arguing and began to speak one by one. Someone said, "I come from Huizhou, two hundred li away."

Some people say, "I'm picking salt; it will spoil if it gets damp."

Someone else said, "I'm carrying ironware, a load of 100 jin (50 kg)."

Zhu Han nodded: "Those that are far away go first, those that are easily damaged go second, and those that are heavy go last. When entering the city at night, the former should be quick, the latter steady, and the latter protective. No chaos is allowed."

"What if someone tries to steal it?" the man asked, unwilling to give up.

Zhu Han smiled coldly and pointed at the red rope: "Touching this rope is the rule of the city gate. Whoever crosses it will be in turmoil. And those in turmoil will make mistakes first."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a young porter, defiant of the superstition, tried to go around to the side and stepped into the fog. Unexpectedly, the stone slabs were slippery with wet moss, and his foot slipped, causing him to fall into the ditch next to him with a "plop," getting completely soaked.

The crowd was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter.

Zhu Han said calmly, "When traveling through the city gates at night, the worst thing is to be impatient. Your fall shows what 'chaos' looks like."

The line then quieted down and formed three rows according to the order he had set.

In the fog, the footsteps were orderly and unhurried, like a night procession passing through the city gate and gradually disappearing along the stone-paved road.

Zhu Han watched their retreating figures, then suddenly turned to Zhu Biao beside him and whispered, "Remember this, it's not about using ropes to control people, it's about letting people's hearts decide for themselves."

Zhu Biao's eyes gleamed as he nodded solemnly.

The following morning, an urgent summons arrived from the palace.

Zhu Yuanzhang summoned the officials to the Fengtian Hall, his expression quite somber. Several high-ranking officials stood in the hall, their expressions varying.

Zhu Han and Zhu Biao entered the hall together. Zhu Yuanzhang glanced at them and asked, "I have heard about what happened at the city gate last night. You did a good job."

"Brother, you flatter me." Zhu Han cupped his hands in greeting.

"However—" Zhu Yuanzhang turned around, his gaze falling on the map in the center of the hall, "this method at Nanshikou is called 'Heart Shelter' by the people. Now it's all over the streets and alleys of the capital, causing quite a stir. Some say you're using petty tricks to deceive the masses, while others say this method can stabilize people's hearts. What do you think?"

Zhu Han said in a deep voice: "The art of the mind is not a technique. The rope is not a god, but a 'ruler' that people give themselves. Without a ruler, everything is in chaos."

Minister of War Yang Xian, standing to the side, scoffed, "Your Highness's words are insightful, but there are many trivial matters in the capital. This method of 'heart-shaking' can only solve the problem temporarily, not in the long run. If the people become too chaotic, won't the red rope become a laughing stock?"

Zhu Biao couldn't help but say, "Lord Yang underestimates the common people! I saw the people under the canopy, who went from disbelieving at first to lining up and touching the rope in an orderly fashion. If everyone had a sense of justice, wouldn't that be more effective than sticks?"

Zhu Yuanzhang stared at Zhu Biao, his eyes filled with both satisfaction and a deeper meaning: "Crown Prince, I like what you said. But governing the world cannot rely solely on ropes. Han, do you understand?"

Zhu Han smiled slightly: "Brother, the rope is just a 'trick'. I have a backup plan."

"tell me the story."

“I plan to bring the ‘Method of the Heart’ into all walks of life, not just ordinary people, but also government offices, military camps, and schools. They all need an invisible ‘rope’. But this rope is not something I, Zhu Han, will manage; it is something they will ‘find’ themselves.”

Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes deepened: "You want to...establish a system?"

"Indeed," Zhu Han cupped his hands in greeting. "This method can be implemented on a large scale or on a small scale. If you are willing, brother, I can begin by testing it in the military camp." A murmur rippled through the courtiers. Some were uneasy, some excited, and some doubtful.

Zhu Yuanzhang glanced at everyone, and they immediately fell silent. He pondered for a moment, then smiled and said, "Very well. The trial run will be conducted in the military camp, and the Crown Prince will accompany you."

A few days later, in the camp outside Beijing.

Before the morning mist had dissipated, the bugle call sounded like a dragon's roar. A thousand soldiers stood in formation, their swords and spears gleaming coldly.

Zhu Han and Zhu Biao rode their horses slowly into the camp and placed a thick red rope, ten feet long, in the center of the drill ground.

The soldiers looked at each other, confused.

"Sir! We're practicing with swords and spears, not children's games!"

A centurion shouted loudly, which drew laughter from the crowd.

Zhu Han dismounted, walked to the red rope, and calmly asked, "What do you rely on to fight?"

"Rely on courage!" "Rely on strength!" "Rely on formations!"

Everyone chimed in, their voices ringing out in a powerful and enthusiastic manner.

Zhu Han suddenly countered, "What about relying on the heart?"

Everyone was taken aback. Zhu Han suddenly pulled out a bamboo ruler and slammed it against the red rope: "Form ranks, touch the rope!"

Although the soldiers did not understand, they stepped forward one by one at the command of their general.

Some people slapped it roughly, some stroked it gently, and some were indifferent.

Zhu Han, seeing this, suddenly shouted: "Seventh Company of the Left Battalion, step forward!"

He was a tall soldier who was agitated when he touched the rope and left as soon as he touched it.

Zhu Han asked, "What were you thinking when you touched the rope?"

The man hesitated for a while before finally saying, "I was thinking of finishing up as soon as possible so I could go eat."

"Alright." Zhu Han smiled faintly. "If you were this impatient on the battlefield, your blade would miss its mark by half an inch. Do you know what half an inch is?"

The soldier shook his head.

Zhu Han inserted the bamboo ruler into the mud, missing it by half an inch, and stepped on it, causing his center of gravity to tilt slightly: "Half an inch, that's life or death."

The camp fell silent instantly.

Zhu Han turned around and shouted to the entire camp: "What you're touching today isn't ropes, it's your lives! Form ranks from the beginning!"

With repeated rope-touching training, the soldiers' breathing gradually became more even, and their gazes became more focused.

Zhu Biao, watching from the sidelines, was filled with excitement and couldn't help but whisper to Zhu Han, "Uncle, this method... can it really govern the army?"

A sharp glint flashed in Zhu Han's eyes: "If the mind is not steady, the formation will be in chaos. When the formation is in chaos, a thousand soldiers are like headless flies; when the mind is steady, even ten thousand horses can remain as still as a mountain."

This statement spread throughout the entire camp.

A light rain at night left a faint dampness on the gray bricks of the city wall.

Under the awning at Nanshikou, the red rope, moistened by the rain, looked even fresher, like a quietly lying vein.

"Good morning, Your Highness." The blind man walked out of the rain, his clothes wet but his steps steady, still holding the bamboo cane in his hand. The little boy had grown a finger's length taller and was still holding the end of the bamboo cane, his eyes bright.

"Good morning." Zhu Han gestured for him to sit down, glancing at the blind man's shoes. "The road is slippery, so you landed on your heels first. Your heart is still steady."

The blind man laughed and said, "Yesterday, the prince was inspecting troops in the camp, and I listened for half a day under the bridge. Some feet landed with the soles of their feet like drums, while others landed with their heels like bells. If the two could land one after the other, the music would be perfect."

Zhu Han nodded, and was about to ask another question when someone suddenly carried an object covered with an oilcloth outside the shed. The person walked quickly, but deliberately suppressed their breathing.

The blind man's ears twitched, and he whispered, "My feet slipped, my heart tightened, as if I were smothering a fire."

Several rough-clothed men lifted the tarpaulin, revealing a shiny black plaque with two large, gold-embossed characters: "Public Shed".

The man greeted him with a fawning smile: "Your Highness, the district head has come to present a plaque. He said this shed is related to justice, so he's bestowing a name upon it."

Zhu Han glanced at it, didn't reach out to take it, and said indifferently, "This plaque cannot be hung."

Everyone froze. The leader blushed and hurriedly said, "Your Highness, we meant well..."

Zhu Han raised his hand and pointed to the wooden plaque on the table: "The reason this shed was erected is not because the word 'public' is on the plaque. It's because you and I touched the rope first. When the plaque is hung up, people look at the words first and wonder who 'bestowed' it on them. Then they touch the rope, and there's a barrier in their minds. Once there's a barrier, the rope won't work."

As he spoke, he picked up a bamboo ruler and lightly tapped the back of the plaque. “The wood is too light, the characters are too heavy. Take it back and replace it with a solid piece of wood—don’t write on it, polish it, and hang it on the beam so it reflects people’s faces.”

The men looked at each other, not daring to say anything, and quickly wrapped the plaque up again, carrying it away.

The blind man beside him laughed and said, "What a wonderful 'reflecting a person's face'!"

Zhu Han smiled without saying a word. The little boy timidly approached and pointed at the wooden sign, reading, "First... touch the rope."

He read slowly, each word as if it were falling on a rope, carrying weight.

Just then, another person hurried along the alley entrance, a wet cloak draped over their shoulders, raindrops still rolling down their face.

The newcomer was no more than thirty years old, with a cold look in his eyes, a sword at his waist, and a white cloth wrapped around his right arm.

As soon as he entered the shed, he instinctively touched the rope, slowly running his palm along the red rope, a hint of surprise appearing in his eyes.

Then he cupped his hands and said, “Your Highness, Yao Jin of the Embroidered Uniform Guard has been ordered to report this secretly. Last night, several fake stalls appeared in the city, with red ropes hanging around them, claiming ‘touch the rope first, then talk,’ but in reality, they were using the opportunity to extort money. When someone sought help, the ‘stall owner’ would collect the money and then deliberately let two families bump into each other, taking advantage of the chaos to send people to steal. There have already been several cases, and someone was even injured last night.”

The blind man's expression changed slightly, and he whispered, "The fire in the footsteps, so that's where it is."

Zhu Han lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, and the sound of a tear falling from his heart finally settled, clear and crisp: "Sign-in: Received 'Dark Ruler'."

He didn't look at it, nor did he show any unusual expression. He just silently recited it in his mind. It was as if there was a faint, almost imperceptible texture around his ear, as if he could hear a little more of the breath between words, whether it was real or feigned.

He looked up at Yao Jin: "What kind of ropes did they use to hang them?"

Yao Jin said, “The thick vines are dyed red, and the color is rather dark. They feel rough to the touch. The worst part is that they also put up a wooden sign that says, ‘Touch the rope first.’”

Zhu Han laughed, but his laughter was cold: "To steal my methods, one must first steal my heart. Your arm is injured?"

“During my patrol last night, someone in the commotion hid a short hook, and I blocked it,” Yao Jin said calmly. “It’s nothing.”

Zhu Han didn't ask any more questions, his gaze falling on Zhu Biao's face as he just managed to lift the curtain and enter: "Perfect timing. Your Highness, today you will come with me to dismantle the shed."

Zhu Biao's eyes lit up, and he nodded in agreement.

In less than an hour, a crowd had gathered in front of the "shed" in Rice Lane in the south of the city. It was a shed erected by the river, with red ropes that were thicker and longer than those at the South Market, and two red lanterns hanging at both ends, making it look arrogant.

A middle-aged man in a blue cloth robe and a white headscarf was waving and shouting in front of the stall: "Touch the rope first! Touch it first, then we'll talk! We have important guests today, whoever can touch it steadily, I'll make the decision for them!" (End of this chapter)