Chapter 587: Wu Keshan Without Limits

You know, the Great Ming Emperor's thoughts were plain to see—he didn't seem to have any intention of hiding them at all.

Once she understood the Great Ming Emperor's intentions, Hailanzhu knew exactly what she was going to face.

And the meaning behind her sister's words was even more obvious—she was clearly trying to get used to things first.

But Hailanzhu still wasn't quite ready. She shook her head and said, "No, let's not. Tonight, let's still sleep separately."

With that said, Hailanzhu turned and hurried away.

Bumbutai watched her sister's retreating figure, smiled softly, and said nothing.

Her sister's last words meant she understood—tonight they'd sleep alone, which meant there would definitely come a time when they wouldn't be sleeping alone, and there would probably be plenty of those opportunities.

Shaking her head, Bumbutai left as well.

Men's minds—what was so good about that sort of thing? Was it really that interesting?

Early the next morning, the sun rose from the east as always. The quiet city of Shenyang bustled to life once more, the streets grew lively again, and everything looked as prosperous as a tapestry of brocade.

Only the undercurrents hidden in the shadows began to surge and churn at this time.

Wukeshan had prepared early and entered the field headquarters to meet the Great Ming Emperor.

News spread quickly.

On the Inner Khalkha side, Zhang Muhe's expression was very grim.

He hadn't expected things to turn out like this, and in his heart, he had already come to hate Wukeshan to the bone.

What kind of nonsense was this? This fellow had absolutely no bottom line!

Glancing at the people from the other four tribes around him, Zhang Muhe said, "You all decide what to do. Wukeshan has already gone to see the Great Ming Emperor. We can't just sit here and watch."

The four representatives also wore grim expressions. One of them looked up at Zhang Muhe and asked, "It might not necessarily come to anything, right?"

He was a middle-aged man in his forties, with a full bushy beard, a burly build, and a knife scar across his face—one look and you could tell he was a fierce and ruthless man.

His face carried a hint of fury, as if he wished he could kill someone.

Zhang Muhe gave him a helpless look.

This man was called Jirigala—the most brainless of the people who had come with him this time. He had plenty of flesh on his bones and could fight, but it was all useless.

Zhang Muhe looked at him and said, "Jirigala, then what do you think Wukeshan is going to see the Great Ming Emperor for at a time like this? Could it be to catch up on old times?"

Upon hearing this, Jirigala fell silent. He understood the meaning behind Zhang Muhe's words.

Wukeshan running off to see the Great Ming Emperor this time was naturally to pledge his loyalty. What else was there worth pledging loyalty for right now? It could only be the matter of joining forces to attack Ligdan Khan.

But not being able to refute that point didn't mean Jirigala couldn't speak.

Jirigala said, "Then we can't walk the same path as them either, right? We didn't even do this when we faced Nurhaci back then. If we really announce something like this, I'm afraid we won't be able to explain ourselves when we get back."

Zhang Muhe glanced at Jirigala and fell silent as well.

On this matter, Zhang Muhe also had a fairly clear-headed understanding.

Unlike the four representatives in Shenyang, the people back home who could make the decisions each had their own ideas, and they completely failed to understand what the Great Ming's tough stance this time signified.

Once he agreed to it, going back would very likely mean he couldn't explain himself. At that point, people like him would be finished.

The key issue was that many people back home were very close to Ligdan Khan. After all, the Great Ming was "not of our kind, so their hearts must differ"—they couldn't trust outsiders. The people back home felt the same way; they didn't trust the cunning and treacherous Ming people either.

After all these years, there were still people opposing trade with the Great Ming, believing it was the Great Ming's way of infiltrating the grasslands. Zhang Muhe couldn't even convince them on that matter, let alone on this current issue.

"Nothing to be done. We wait." Zhang Muhe sat down helplessly.

Jirigala glanced at Zhang Muhe, nodded, and said, "Let's wait for news. Aren't there still those idiots from Ordos? Their Qasar hasn't agreed, so we can't agree either."

Zhang Muhe looked at Jirigala but didn't speak.

This man was an idiot—there was no explaining anything to him.

Ordos didn't agree, so you won't agree?

What kind of tribe was Ordos, and what kind of tribe were we? How could we compare ourselves to Ordos?

Those people were idiots to begin with, and now you want to compare yourself to them?

There was no point in discussing this any further. Even if they didn't compare themselves to Ordos, what difference would it make?

His word didn't count for anything anyway, so all he could do was wait.

Over on Qasar's side, he too had received the news, and his expression was absolutely terrible.

He truly hadn't expected Khorchin to be so lacking in bottom line, and Wukeshan to be so lacking in bottom line! After getting the news, Wukeshan had actually run off to see the Great Ming Emperor at the very first opportunity?

This clearly meant he was going to accept the Great Ming Emperor's proposal. So what did that make him, the one who had spread the news at this time?

Ungrateful, rejecting the Great Ming's goodwill—his father couldn't be enfeoffed as a prince, the tribal alliance couldn't be formed—wouldn't he become a criminal?

You had to understand, although he was one of the stronger among these small tribes, and could even be called the strongest, compared to Khorchin he still wasn't big enough!

Most critically, there were many small tribes out there. Besides him, the Great Ming could choose others. At that point, what would happen to Ordos? Wouldn't that be the end?

Qasar couldn't sit still any longer. He stood up directly and said, "Let's go. Come with me to pay a visit to the Great Ming's Lord Sun."

At this moment, he didn't dare delay any further. Going to the field headquarters to see the Great Ming Emperor was impossible—they wouldn't see him. The Great Ming Emperor wasn't someone someone of his rank could meet just by wanting to.

Secondly, this matter had been brought up by Lord Sun. If he ran off to see the Great Ming Emperor, wouldn't Lord Sun hate him to death?

"I hope we can still make it in time this time." Qasar muttered to himself as he walked out.

At this moment, inside the field headquarters, Zhu Youxiao was eating breakfast.

Last night's good deed hadn't come to pass. He had gone to bed fairly early but hadn't slept very well, so this morning he had gotten up a bit late and was only now eating breakfast.

But today's breakfast was lamb and chive buns—not bad at all. Zhu Youxiao ate with great relish.

He had to say, the lamb here was really good—the lamb of this era was really good, purely natural grass-fed.

Many people in later generations said that farm-raised livestock was healthier, and that free-range animals didn't have better nutritional value than farm-raised ones. Zhu Youxiao believed this and fully acknowledged it.

But there was one point Zhu Youxiao didn't believe, and that was another difference between farm-raised and free-range.

Whether it was farm chickens or other animals, from the moment they entered the farm, they were given all kinds of feed and hormones. Otherwise, why did you think they grew so fast? Why did they have so much meat?

Zhu Youxiao remembered very clearly: when he was a child in the countryside, raising a pig on pure grain and pigweed, that kind of pig would top out at around two hundred-some catties in a year. Fed with commercial feed it would grow fatter, but it could absolutely never reach two hundred seventy or eighty catties in four months. If it was sent to slaughter in four months, what had it eaten?

And those eggs — one a day, some hens even laying one every eight hours. What were those hens fed? Surely no one actually believes it was just ordinary feed?

Of course, there was also the good stuff — pure, natural, green, pollution-free. Unfortunately, the Zhu Youxiao of his past life couldn't afford it.

This life, though, he needn't worry about such things. These fine mutton and chive buns — one bite and it feels wonderful, paired with a proper porridge cooked from genuine Shaanxi yellow millet. The flavor goes without saying.

At that moment, Wei Chao walked over.

Chen Hong was attending to Zhu Youxiao's meal at his side, while Wei Chao had been handling matters outside. For him to come running over now, something must have come up.

Zhu Youxiao didn't even look up, simply asking him: "Is there something?"

Wei Chao dared not be slow, and hurriedly said: "Your Majesty, Wukeshan requests an audience."

Hearing this, Zhu Youxiao was taken aback for a moment, then raised his head to look at Wei Chao, lowered it again to take a bite of his bun, and then said: "He came rather quickly. Seems he's quite invested. Truly a man with ideas. Tell him to wait — wait until I've finished eating."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Wei Chao acknowledged and hurried out to inform Wukeshan.

There was no way Zhu Youxiao would interrupt his meal to see Wukeshan — Wukeshan simply didn't have that kind of status or standing.

In all the world, there was no one who could make Zhu Youxiao do such a thing. How could the august Emperor of the Great Ming lose his dignity?

Upon receiving the news, Wukeshan dared even less to have any objections.

They'd plainly told him: the Emperor is eating, you wait — so wait you must.

After finishing breakfast and changing his clothes, Zhu Youxiao leisurely strolled out from within.

Glancing at Wukeshan, who was about to rise, Zhu Youxiao casually waved his hand and said: "Sit down, no need to stand on ceremony — we're all family."

Hearing these words, Wukeshan's heart stirred.

This was good news. The Emperor of the Great Ming acknowledged that he and Wukeshan were family — which meant he could afford to be a bit more at ease in this matter.

Wukeshan sat back down and said with a smile: "I came today to speak with Your Majesty about a matter."

"Don't rush to talk business — first taste the tea. This is a fine thing I brought from the capital; you likely don't have it on the grasslands." As he spoke, Zhu Youxiao made a gesture of invitation.

On the grasslands, fresh vegetables were often scarce, so they needed tea to supplement vitamins and trace elements. They placed great importance on tea — over the years, tea had been the largest item in the Great Ming's trade with them.

Under such circumstances, they had also developed a habit of drinking fine tea, especially among the upper nobility.

Wukeshan had some knowledge of tea himself. After hearing Zhu Youxiao's words, he sat down and calmly savored the brew.