Chapter 47: Flintlock

Three days later, Zhu Xu's carriage rattled slowly out of the palace.

Sitting inside the swaying carriage, Zhu Xu said, "Old Cao, keep a sharp eye out—don't let anyone tail us again."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Cao Wenzhao drove the carriage, now fast, now slow, glancing back from time to time to judge whether anyone was following.

"A mirror would make this much easier."

Watching Cao Wenzhao's laborious efforts, Zhu Xu rested his chin on his hand and murmured thoughtfully to himself.

After a while, Zhu Xu asked again, "Has Feng Zhu left the palace?"

Cao Wenzhao seized the chance to glance back, then said, "He left the palace ahead of us. We'll have to wait a while for Wei Liangqing to go as well."

Zhu Xu nodded slightly. If he finished his business quickly enough, he might still catch up.

After a long time, Zhu Xu asked, "Anyone following us?"

Cao Wenzhao's expression turned somewhat odd. He hesitated, then said, "Your Highness, it's hard to say. Someone is following us from time to time, but it's not the same one as when we left the palace."

Zhu Xu raised an eyebrow, understanding at once. With someone as clever as his Fifth Brother, since he knew his tail had been spotted, he'd likely thought of another method—like splitting his men into segments to take turns following.

Zhu Xu smiled, and said with mischievous delight, "Find a corner to let me off. Then you drive the carriage and take them on a tour of the Forbidden City. My Fifth Brother is probably waiting for me somewhere—find a chance to block their view, then enter a brothel so they think I went in too. Come back at night."

Cao Wenzhao was taken aback, but didn't object. He said, "Your Highness, then what about you?"

"It's fine. I'll have my uncle send me a carriage," Zhu Xu said with a sly grin. "But next time, have more carriages ready outside the palace, and let people take them on a nice little ride."

Cao Wenzhao immediately understood Zhu Xu's intent and chuckled. "Good. I'll arrange it as soon as I return tonight. No worry that Prince Xin's men won't be able to keep up."

Before long, the carriage stopped at a corner. Cao Wenzhao urged hurriedly, "Your Highness, quick!"

Zhu Xu leapt off the carriage like a small whirlwind, then hid behind the wall.

Cao Wenzhao immediately whipped the horses, speeding the carriage up for a stretch before slowing down again—just as before.

After a while, an unremarkable man in grey cloth appeared at the spot where Zhu Xu had gotten off. Gazing from afar at the carriage, he quickened his pace to chase after it.

Zhu Xu waited until the footsteps faded before stepping out. Standing at the corner, watching the man's shadowing figure recede, he smiled faintly, straightened his clothes, and turned toward a teahouse not far away.

"Uncle."

Zhu Xu pushed open the door and addressed Fu Changzong, who was drinking tea.

Fu Changzong hastily stood up to close the door, his face full of worry. "Why so late today? I was afraid you couldn't make it."

Zhu Xu was never one for activity, and being young, his constitution was especially weak. He wiped his sweat as he walked in, sat down, and poured himself a cup of tea. "Fifth Brother, Prince Xin, probably has his suspicions about me. Lately he keeps sending people to tail me."

Fu Changzong already knew about this. He was silent for a moment, then looked up and said, "Mm, I was followed on my way here too, but I dealt with them."

Zhu Xu nodded. "Let's set aside Prince Xin's matter for now. Tell me about the mountain."

Fu Changzong perked up and quickly retrieved a bundle from under the table. "This is one I got from Bi Maokang, using the pretext that His Majesty wanted to see it. Take a look first."

Fu Changzong untied it, revealing a black object longer than himself, quite similar to the modern flintlock muskets of recent times.

Zhu Xu's eyes lit up. He snatched it over eagerly, running his hands over it, turning it this way and that. Clearly, it was still only a half-finished product—many parts hadn't been welded on yet.

Seeing Zhu Xu examine it for a long while, his brow furrowing ever deeper, Fu Changzong couldn't help asking, "Well? Is it what you wanted?"

Zhu Xu shook his head, setting the thing on the table as he studied it. "This is a matchlock musket that came over from the wokou pirates. Not much improvement."

Fu Changzong neither disliked nor particularly cared for such clever contraptions. He paused, then said, "Then what kind do you want?"

Zhu Xu earnestly tried to recall the flintlock muskets of later ages, but truly had no impression—he'd studied archaeology, not weaponry fandom.

"Here's the thing, Uncle," Zhu Xu said. "Tell Bi Maokang that the current matchlock muskets are too troublesome to use. My requirements are simple: soldiers form up in two or three ranks—one rank fires, then kneels to reload while the next rank stands and fires, repeating in turn. The current matchlocks are a hassle to reload, and one rainstorm ruins them. Most importantly, the range needs to be long."

In truth, Zhu Xu wanted to use flintlock muskets against the Manchu cavalry. Under the Ming's current military system, relying on Shanhai Pass, they could only defend to the death—they had no capacity to counterattack at all.

Red-cloth cannons, flintlock muskets, forts, trenches, and barbed wire—that combination would be a nightmare for cavalry.

Fu Changzong naturally had no idea what Zhu Xu was thinking. He earnestly noted down his words, then said, "Good, I understand. This is what you asked for." With that, he pulled a stack of papers from his bosom and handed them to Zhu Xu.

Zhu Xu opened it up—especially when he saw the big vermilion seal of the Minister of Revenue at the back—and couldn't help laughing. "Uncle, you must have bled yourself dry this time, didn't you?"

Fu Changzong's expression didn't change. Looking at him, he said, "I only treated him to a round of drinks. This seal—I stamped it in secret."

"What?"

Zhu Xu stared at Fu Changzong in astonishment. He knew this uncle of his had always been timid and cautious—since when had he grown so bold?

Fu Changzong picked up a cup of tea, and before drinking, looked up at Zhu Xu and said, "He can't find out. Bring it back to me when you're done."

If Zhu Xu had been drinking tea, he'd have sprayed it all over Fu Changzong's face. Was this about destroying it after use, leaving no evidence to contradict him?

Was this still that overcautious uncle of his?

But then his mind stirred. If Fu Changzong truly had ability, shouldn't he not be wasted in the position of Bureau Secretary in the Ministry of Revenue?

After thinking it over, Zhu Xu looked at Fu Changzong and probed, "Uncle, do you want to move up?"

Fu Changzong was startled, then quickly grasped Zhu Xu's meaning, and couldn't help frowning. In his years as an official, he'd gained considerable insight, and believed himself fully qualified for a promotion to Vice Minister. But in the end, he shook his head. "My status isn't suited for officialdom to begin with. Any further promotion would draw too much attention. Besides, things are fine as they are—not many people notice me. It's more convenient for working on your behalf."

Zhu Xu could naturally hear the reluctance in Fu Changzong's words, yet he also agreed with what he said.

The Great Ming governed its princes, imperial in-laws, and clansmen extremely strictly. Though Fu Changzong was nearly invisible among the Ming's imperial relatives—one of those without power or influence—strictly speaking, he was still the maternal uncle of the Taichang Emperor, a state uncle. His position as Bureau Secretary in the Ministry of Revenue was already conspicuous enough.

Still, since the Taichang Emperor and Zhu Xu's birth mother had both passed away, and Zhu Xu, a prince at just seven years old, still lived in the palace—this being the Tianqi Emperor's care and favor toward the orphaned Zhu Xu—neither inside nor outside the court would press the matter too hard.

But if he were placed in a position like Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, then impeachments of Fu Changzong for "imperial relatives meddling in governance, violating ancestral regulations"—and even dragging in Zhu Xu, or his deceased birth mother—would very quickly become reality.

Zhu Xu nodded and didn't raise the matter again. He then discussed the money shop business with Fu Changzong. Having served in the Ministry of Revenue for many years, Fu Changzong naturally offered plenty of advice—though even more warnings.

(Third update of the day, begging for collections and recommendations~~~)