Chapter 371: Zhu Di

Gu Shanhe opened the space-time gate and took them to the next dynasty.

Great Ming, Yongle Dynasty.

In the Fengtian Hall.

Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the glazed tiles on the roof, shining exactly on the gold-brick floor in front of the dragon throne.

Zhu Di was bowing his head, reviewing memorials.

He was old, his eyes were blurry, and he had to hold the memorials an arm's length away to see the characters clearly.

He had just finished the third one and was about to flip to the fourth when the light at the palace entrance suddenly dimmed.

He looked up.

Nine people appeared out of thin air in the center of the Fengtian Hall.

The one in front wore white, and of the eight behind him, six wore dragon robes and two wore phoenix robes—

Wait, why does the face of that one in the dragon robe look so familiar?

The vermilion brush in Zhu Di's hand dropped.

The tip left a red mark on the memorial, rolled off the paper onto the floor, making a crisp sound.

"Father?"

The civil and military officials in the hall turned to look at him.

Who dared to call the Emperor "Father"?

Who had the qualifications to call the Emperor "Father"?

Then they followed Zhu Di's gaze and saw that person—

Wearing a bright yellow dragon robe, with a square face, a tuft of short beard on his chin, and eyes as sharp as two knives.

Zhu Yuanzhang.

Zhu Di sprang up from the dragon throne.

He was nearly sixty, but his movement was faster than a young man's; he didn't even bend his knees, springing directly from the chair to the steps below.

He stood in the center of the hall, less than three zhang from Zhu Yuanzhang, his lips moving a few times, the expression on his face changing three times—

First surprise, then guilt, and finally settling into an indescribable awkwardness.

"Father, you're not dead?"

All the civil and military officials in the hall knelt down.

Not to pay respects, but out of fear.

The Former Emperor.

The Hongwu Emperor.

Some of them had seen him, some hadn't, but his portrait had been hanging in the Imperial Ancestral Temple for thirty years; who didn't recognize him?

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at the old man with a face full of wrinkles before him—his son.

The fourth one.

His, Zhu Chongba's, fourth son.

When he left, Zhu Di was only in his early twenties; now, with a face full of wrinkles and half-white hair, wearing a dragon robe and standing before him, he looked like a child caught in the act of doing something wrong.

Zhu Yuanzhang was silent for two seconds.

Then he bent down, reached out, and pulled the boot off his left foot.

Zhu Di turned and ran.

"Father! Let me explain! I became Emperor because my nephew was cutting down the feudal lords—he was too hasty—I had no choice—"

"And you think you're justified?!"

Zhu Yuanzhang chased after him with one foot bare, the boot held high above his head.

"Your eldest brother Zhu Biao died early, and you dared to snatch your nephew's throne?!"

"Father! I didn't snatch it—I was—"

"You were what?! You are an unfilial son!"

Zhu Di ran around the gold pillars of the hall.

He was old, his legs not as nimble as when he was young, but the urge to save his life remained; he zipped around the first pillar on the left and came out from the right.

The civil and military officials knelt all over the floor, their heads buried low; no one dared to stop them, and no one dared to leave.

Zhu Yuanzhang chased him for half a circle; he was old after all, panting heavily, the boot held in mid-air, glaring at him.

Seeing he couldn't escape, Zhu Di turned his head and saw that familiar figure in the crowd.

Zhu Di rushed over and hid behind her.

Empress Ma looked at the white-haired old man with a face full of wrinkles before her—this was her son.

The boy she remembered running around in the military camp, the Zhu Di who was pressed by Zhu Yuanzhang to recite "The Art of War" and beaten when he couldn't.

"Mother, you—you came too?"

Empress Ma reached out and touched his face.

Her hand was shaking.

Then she turned and glared at Zhu Yuanzhang.

"Chongba! The son is already this old; what if you beat him to death?"

Zhu Yuanzhang held the boot, panting:

"Meizi, you don't know, this unfilial son snatched Biao'er's son's throne—"

"I know."

Empress Ma said, "But what's the use of beating him to death now?"

Zhu Di poked his head out from behind Empress Ma's shoulder,

"Father, I did quite well later on; five expeditions to the north, nations coming to pay tribute, compiled the 'Yongle Encyclopedia', moved the capital to Beijing..."

Zhu Yuanzhang glared at him, the boot still raised, but he didn't bring it down.

Liu Bang fished a handful of melon seeds from his sleeve and walked over while cracking them.

"Old Zhu, I understand, I understand."

"I wanted to beat Liu Ying back then too, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"You're right not to do it; if you beat him to death, you'll still have to raise him."

Ying Zheng stood to the side, adding expressionlessly: "The footprint on the dragon robe is an eyesore."

Zhu Yuanzhang looked down—

When he was chasing Zhu Di just now, his bare foot had stepped on the ground; he had forgotten to put his boot back on.

Zhu Yuanzhang glared at Zhu Di, putting the boot down, but still scolding: "You wait, I'll deal with you later."

Zhu Di breathed a sigh of relief, walked out from behind Empress Ma, straightened his robe, faced Gu Shanhe, and bowed:

"Immortal Master, I failed to welcome you from afar—"

Gu Shanhe waved his hand: "Enough, everyone is watching."

"Dismiss the court first, and let's sit down and talk."

Zhu Di turned and glanced at the civil and military officials kneeling in the hall: "All of you, withdraw."

"Whoever dares to leak half a word of today's events, I will execute their ten generations."

The civil and military officials scrambled up and withdrew with lowered heads and submissive eyes.

Some were still shaking as they walked.

Because they remembered the scene of Fang Xiaoru being executed to the ten generations.

……

Next, Gu Shanhe stayed in the Yongle Dynasty for half a year.

On the first day, he gave Zhu Di a box of blueprints: steam engines, red-clothed cannons, repeating firelocks, high-yield crops—a thick stack.

Zhu Di flipped through the steam engine blueprints and looked up at Gu Shanhe.

"This thing doesn't need oxen to pull or people to push? Just burning coal is enough?"

"Just burning coal is enough."

Zhu Di immediately ordered the best craftsmen in Shuntian Prefecture to be brought over, and they started trial production that very night.

Half a month later, the first steam engine was rumbling in the workshop.

Zhu Di squatted beside it for a long time, reaching out to touch the iron shell; it was hot, but it didn't explode.

Potatoes, corn, and sweet potatoes were planted, and Zhu Di went to the fields himself to check their growth.

He squatted on the ridge, pulled up a seedling to check the roots, and turned to ask Gu Shanhe: "A thousand jin per mu? Is it true?"

"It is true."

Zhu Di didn't speak, looking at the seedling in his hand for a long time.

In half a year, ten thousand firelocks were mass-produced, and eighty red-clothed cannons were equipped for the northern border army.

When the envoys of the Oirat tribe saw the row of black iron tubes on the city wall, they submitted a letter of surrender the next day.

The Tatar tribe, having no confidence, simply moved their homes and ran west.

The Japanese nation also sent envoys to pay tribute and submit.

Zhu Di read the state letter brought by the envoy and said: "If you want to submit, the King must come to court in person."

The envoy went back dejectedly.

Surrounding small nations submitted one after another, and the territory of the Great Ming extended from the East Sea to the foot of the Tianshan Mountains.

The whole of Asia was connected as one.

Zhu Gaochi also lost weight.

Because Gu Shanhe had prepared a low-fat diet for him and made him walk ten laps around the Imperial Garden every day.

At first, he would pant after three laps; two months later, he could walk ten laps without flushing or panting, and his waistline had shrunk by three inches.

Zhu Di began to practice cultivation.

Gu Shanhe taught him the introductory formula; he handled state affairs during the day and meditated at night.

First level of Qi Refining in half a month, third level in three months.

On the day of his breakthrough, he accidentally crushed a teacup in the Imperial Study—

Not on purpose, he just couldn't control his strength.

Zhu Yuanzhang said to him: "You finally didn't lose face for me."

Zhu Di: "Father, you didn't practice cultivation back then either."

Zhu Yuanzhang: "I'm practicing now."

Zhu Di didn't answer.

Li Shimin and Liu Xiu also broke through to Foundation Establishment in these six months.

On the day they broke through, Li Shimin flew a lap around the Imperial Garden, his expression normal when he landed;

Liu Xiu was even steadier, his breathing frequency unchanged before and after flying.

Zhao Kuangyin was at the ninth level of Qi Refining, just one step away.

Another month passed.

Zhu Di prepared to follow his father and Gu Shanhe to practice cultivation, passing the throne to Zhu Gaochi. ===== CHAPTER 372 =====