Chapter 176: Zhu Quan: Fourth Brother, Why Does Zhu Ying Look So Much Like Xiongying?

Zhu Ying smiled and returned greetings to each of the guests who came to congratulate him, showing perfect courtesy without the slightest neglect.

Guo Ying, seeing all matters settled, waved his hand and announced loudly: “The imperial edict has been delivered; all generals, take your seats!”

“Yes!” The generals responded in unison, their voices resounding loudly.

They then moved orderly to their assigned seats.

Once everyone was seated, Guo Ying’s expression turned stern as he cut straight to the point: “Our army now has only two guard battalions left between us and the Yuan capital.”

“According to current intelligence, the Yuan forces in these two cities number no less than three hundred thousand.”

Guo Ying’s voice was low, carrying a grave tone.

“A direct assault will be a hard and costly battle.”

“What are your thoughts, generals?”

As he spoke, Guo Ying slowly scanned the assembled generals, his eyes filled with inquiry and expectation.

“Nothing else!”

Lan Yu leapt to his feet, his voice booming with confidence: “After months of northern campaign battles, the Yuan forces may still have troops, but their morale has shattered; they are exhausted and worn out.”

“Moreover, the Yuan army is utterly different from ours.”

“Our army fights united for the northern campaign; the Yuan forces are merely temporary coalitions of tribes, each with their own agendas.”

“They won’t fight to the death—they’re too busy preserving their own strength.”

“The way we’ve broken their cities on this march north proves it: though numerically superior, they’re nothing but a rabble.”

“Of the remaining two guard battalions, I’ll lead one force and take one by storm.”

“Within three days, the city will fall!”

Lan Yu stood tall, sweeping his gaze over the generals, radiating arrogance and confidence—as if victory and the city’s fall were already within reach.

“Since the Marquis of Yongchang says so, my second force will attack the other.”

“If we strike simultaneously, we’ll breach these Yuan guard battalions at the fastest possible speed.”

Li Jinglong rose quickly, his face resolute.

Though not as flamboyant as Lan Yu, his words brimmed with fighting spirit.

Of course.

The root of their confidence lay in Zhu Ying.

Seeing both main generals so firmly committed, Guo Ying nodded in satisfaction and wasted no more words: “Good! Then tomorrow, we move against these two guard battalions.”

“After taking these cities, our army will strike directly at the Yuan capital and utterly destroy Northern Yuan!”

“This unparalleled achievement of the northern campaign will belong to us!”

Guo Ying’s voice surged with passion and ambition, stirring and encouraging the generals.

No sooner had he finished than the generals roared in unison: “We obey the Grand General’s command!”

“Enough. With battle imminent, generals, return to your camps and rest.”

The plan was settled.

Guo Ying waved his hand, signaling them to withdraw.

His face showed a hint of fatigue, but mostly anticipation for tomorrow’s battle.

The success of the northern campaign drew ever closer.

“Your servant takes his leave!”

The generals rose in unison, bowed respectfully to Guo Ying, and filed out in orderly fashion.

Once they were gone, the tent held only Zhu Di and Zhu Quan.

“Prince of Ning.”

Guo Ying looked toward Zhu Quan, seated at the right-hand head position, his tone tinged with concern: “For this campaign, you will share a tent with Prince of Yan.”

“Your personal guards will be stationed here as well.”

His words ended.

“Thank you, Grand General, for your thoughtfulness,” Zhu Quan rose with a smile and bowed: “I came chiefly to observe and learn.”

“You’re occupied with many matters; no need to trouble yourself over me.”

“After the northern campaign ends, I must return to Daning.”

Compared to Zhu Di’s mature competence, Zhu Quan still seemed youthful, yet his smile was gentle and humble, deeply courteous.

Among imperial princes, aside from the Emperor’s second and third sons, the rest were manageable.

“After tomorrow’s battle, Prince of Ning, you may seek out General Zhu Ying to learn about Daning Prefecture.”

Guo Ying suggested with a smile, subtly hinting at something deeper.

Zhu Quan immediately nodded: “I shall remember your words, Grand General.”

“General Zhu Ying is young yet extraordinarily gifted; I must learn much from him.”

Zhu Quan’s tone was full of admiration for Zhu Ying, and his eyes held a quiet longing—for genuine conversation with him.

“Ha! Then I won’t disturb you two princes any longer.”

Guo Ying laughed heartily and let them go without further delay.

“Grand General, we take our leave,” Zhu Di smiled and bowed.

Zhu Quan did the same.

Not long after.

Inside Zhu Di’s tent, Zhu Quan was like a fledgling bird just freed from its cage, curious about everything around him.

Even a simple military tent filled him with wonder; he looked around, eyes gleaming with excitement: “Fourth brother, do you really live in this tent every day?”

Zhu Quan reached out to touch the tent fabric, studied the furnishings closely, and kept murmuring exclamations of awe.

Clearly,

he was a golden cage bird newly released from the capital.

Far from the capital, freed from his father’s stern gaze, Zhu Quan found this freedom deeply refreshing.

Now, he was free.

Yet!

Zhu Di had no interest in idle chatter about such trivialities.

His expression grave, he looked intently at Zhu Quan and asked: “Seventeenth brother, what do you think of Zhu Ying?”

His gaze was deep and sharp, piercing Zhu Quan as if seeing into his soul.

“Think of Zhu Ying?”

Zhu Quan was startled by the sudden question; his face clouded with confusion, brows furrowing as he fell into thought.

After a moment,

Zhu Quan recalled the scene of Zhu Ying in the tent.

Zhu Ying’s calm demeanor, especially his eyes—no, that unsettling familiarity.

It made Zhu Quan unconsciously think of his childhood playmate, Zhu Xiongying.

Zhu Quan instinctively lowered his voice, glanced warily around to ensure no eavesdroppers, then said solemnly: “Fourth brother, don’t you feel it?”

His voice trembled slightly, as if suppressing inner excitement.

“What feeling?”

Zhu Di pressed, his face showing curiosity.

“Zhu Ying—he’s too much like Xiongying.”

Zhu Quan’s voice was low, yet each word struck Zhu Di’s heart like a heavy hammer.

“Though his appearance bears little resemblance to Xiongying’s childhood face, those eyes—they’re identical.”

“If I hadn’t seen Xiongying buried with my own eyes, I’d truly suspect Zhu Ying is Xiongying.”

“So alike—utterly indistinguishable.”

“Exactly the same eyes.”

“And if you look closely, the very shape behind those eyes seems to carry Xiongying’s old contours.”

Zhu Quan’s eyes sparkled with awe and doubt; he now looked at Zhu Di, as if seeking an answer from him.

Hearing Zhu Quan’s words, Zhu Di’s buried suspicions ignited instantly.

Those thoughts he had deliberately forgotten surged back like a tide.

“You too think Zhu Ying resembles Xiongying?”

Zhu Di asked, voice rising slightly, filled with disbelief.

“Xiongying used to play with you often, Fourth Brother—you’d know better than anyone.”

“Those eyes—they were carved from the same mold.”

Zhu Quan nodded firmly, his expression growing more serious.

His words faded.

Zhu Di’s face darkened with complex emotion; he fell silent, lost in deep thought.

“Ah.”

Zhu Quan sighed deeply, eyes brimming with endless nostalgia: “When we were children, Xiongying always took me and the twelve older brothers on adventures.”

“Though young, he had endless clever ideas, always inventing new, fun games.”

“And whenever Xiongying was around, no matter how great our mischief, Father’s anger would vanish instantly.”

“Since Xiongying and Mother passed away, Father became a different man, drowning daily in grief.”

Big brother isn’t as cheerful as he used to be; he’s always weighed down by thoughts.

If Xiongying were still alive, how wonderful that would be.

Saying this.

Zhu Quan’s voice trembled with emotion, his eyes filled with longing and nostalgia for the good old days.

And for the nephew who had grown up and played with him.

Zhu Di listened silently to Zhu Quan’s memories, feeling nothing—instead, his expression grew darker.

His hands clenched unconsciously.

If Zhu Xiongying were truly still alive, wouldn’t his newly kindled ambition become a colossal joke?

As the eldest legitimate grandson, Zhu Xiongying held the moral authority of the Great Ming, the support of court rituals and laws, and the backing of the Huaixi nobles—his position was as solid as a rock, unshakable by anyone.

Even if, as Yao Guangxiao claimed, Crown Prince Zhu Biao’s lifespan was short, as long as Zhu Xiongying lived, nothing would change.

Could it be that Zhu Ying and Xiongying are truly connected?

Now, when someone again said Zhu Ying resembled Zhu Xiongying, Zhu Di felt an inexplicable unease rise within him.

The more he thought, the more terrifying it became; that unease grew stronger.

Fourth brother, why is your face so grim?

Did you catch a chill?

Zhu Quan snapped out of his memories, looked up, and saw Zhu Di’s dark expression—immediately, worry surged in his heart.

He stepped forward tenderly, reaching out to feel Zhu Di’s forehead.

Zhu Di finally came to his senses, stepped back, and forced a faint smile: “It’s nothing. I was just lost in thought.”

Hearing you speak of Xiongying, I too recalled many past memories.

Zhu Di’s smile looked stiff, and a trace of worry still lingered in his eyes.

Sigh, I’d only dare say this to you, Fourth Brother.

In Yingtian, even before Mother, I never dared mention Xiongying.

After all, it’s a taboo for Father and Big Brother.

Whoever carelessly brings it up is bound to be punished.

Zhu Quan sighed, helplessly shaking his head.

It was clear.

Even mentioning his father made him betray fear—he still seemed shaken just from speaking of it.

When Father sent you to your fiefdom, did he say whether Liaodong Prefecture would fall under your command?

And how is the military authority over Danning Prefecture arranged?

Zhu Di suppressed his inner turmoil, changed the subject, and asked with a smile.

His gaze appeared casual, but upon closer look, one could detect hidden tension and anticipation.

The fifty thousand border troops of Danning Prefecture should be under my command.

Zhu Quan replied honestly: “But I’m unclear about Huizhouwei and the two guard battalions in Liaodong Prefecture.”

Moreover, Father hasn’t yet issued the official command.

I don’t even know whether I’ll command Danning Guard or Huizhouwei.

Zhu Quan frowned slightly, looking puzzled.

He himself didn’t know much about how he’d command Danning Prefecture or its military authority.

Of course.

Even though he didn’t fully understand the situation yet.

Before Zhu Di, Zhu Quan revealed everything he knew without reservation.

He was simple-minded by nature; he came to his fiefdom only to carry out Father’s decree, solely focused on governing Danning Prefecture well.

Though a prince, he knew clearly that all finances and military authority ultimately depended on imperial court orders, directly under the Ministry of War.

The greatest power of a border prince was the flexibility to mobilize troops swiftly against foreign invasions and respond to crises.

Zhu Yuanzhang had meticulously designed the border prince garrison system—interlocking, defending the Great Ming while maintaining mutual checks.

Yet!

Zhu Yuanzhang never anticipated that this system would trigger chaos in its original historical future.

“It seems Father will still send another prince to garrison Liaodong Prefecture.”

From Zhu Quan’s words, Zhu Di keenly deduced this.

Liaodong Prefecture was vast and guarded by a hundred thousand troops; Zhu Yuanzhang would never entrust it entirely to Zhu Quan alone.

Every border prince’s military authority was limited.

Not too great.

This helped the court control and manage them.

“Liaodong Prefecture is too important—it will surely have another prince sent.”

Zhu Quan nodded in agreement, then added: “I just wonder if any capable general will serve under me.”

If Zhu Ying could remain in Danning, that would be perfect.

With him, I won’t worry about barbarian invasions.

He became Marquis of the Champion at under twenty—he’s truly talented and admirable.

When mentioning Zhu Ying, Zhu Quan’s eyes sparkled with admiration; he had full confidence in Zhu Ying’s abilities.

Of course, he also hoped Zhu Ying would continue commanding troops in Danning Prefecture.

After this northern campaign ends, his rank will surely rise another level.

Zhu Di affirmed.

He knew his father and brother’s ways—having bestowed Zhu Ying such heavy rewards, ennobling him as Marquis of the Champion and publicly proclaiming his achievements,

once the northern campaign succeeded, Zhu Ying’s promotion was inevitable.

“Indeed.” Zhu Quan nodded in agreement without hesitation.

At this moment!

Zhu Quan felt a wave of fatigue, yawned, stretched, and smiled: “Fourth Brother, we’re attacking the city tomorrow. I’m exhausted from the journey.”

I’ll return to my tent to rest. I’ll come see the assault tomorrow.”

Zhu Quan waved casually and turned toward the tent entrance. His steps were heavy—he was utterly worn out.

After Zhu Quan left, Zhu Di stared at the empty tent and spoke slowly, his face heavy with unmistakable gravity: “Do you think Zhu Ying could truly be Zhu Xiongying?”

His words faded.

The tent fell silent.

Long after, a faint sigh echoed: “Your Highness, you’ve become attached to this idea.”

The dead cannot return. You think too much.

The voice seemed to come from within the tent’s inner layer, filled with resignation and counsel.

When I first saw him, I too felt the same—like seeing Zhu Xiongying.

Today, when Seventeenth Brother mentioned it, the thought I’d buried rose again.

I truly fear—if Zhu Ying is truly connected to Zhu Xiongying, then… do I still have a chance?

Zhu Di’s voice was thick with anxiety and unease; his expression showed inner struggle.

Though I know it’s nearly impossible, a strange, persistent worry lingers in my heart.

Zhu Di’s brow knotted tightly, as if trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.

“Since Your Highness has this concern, you must already have a plan.”

Yao Guangxiao’s voice returned, calm and deep.

“I don’t want him to return to Yingtian.”

Zhu Di’s eyes flashed with ruthlessness: “Whether or not he’s connected to Zhu Xiongying, if he won’t serve me, he’s my greatest enemy.”

Perhaps this is why I’m truly uneasy—if I can’t control him, I’d rather destroy him.”

Zhu Di clenched his fists as if crushing his fears and anxieties into nothing.

“Then, I have a strategy that may fulfill Your Highness’s wish,” Yao Guangxiao said slowly, solemnly.

“What strategy?” Zhu Di asked eagerly, full of anticipation.

“The Great Ming’s northern expedition has reached Yuan Capital City; it will fall soon.”

“The Yuan Emperor will flee north,” Yao Guangxiao said calmly: “The greatest achievement of this campaign is the complete destruction of Northern Yuan, shattering it—this is precisely what the Emperor desires.”

“So… when the Yuan Emperor flees, Guo Ying will order pursuit.”

Yao Guangxiao grew increasingly serious, as if he’d already foreseen all subsequent events of the northern campaign.

Zhu Di’s mind stirred—he seemed to understand.

“Zhu Ying’s Danning border troops are all cavalry, nearly forty thousand strong.”

“To pursue, Zhu Ying will be first in line. Once he ventures deep into the northern frontier, he won’t easily escape.”

The Northern Yuan heartland is grassland and desert—easy to get lost, and the tribes’ home ground.”

Zhu Di continued, his eyes brimming with murderous intent.

“If we leak just a little intelligence to the Northern Yuan tribes—say, Zhu Ying’s location—how could they pass up the chance?” Yao Guangxiao’s voice turned cold.

Hearing this, Zhu Di’s face twisted in conflict: “Northern Yuan remains our Great Ming’s greatest enemy.”

“If Zhu Ying vanishes deep in the northern frontier, that’s his fate.”

"But to leak information to the Northern Yuan and sacrifice the lives of our Great Ming soldiers—I cannot do it."

He said no more.

Zhu Di, however, spoke with firm resolve: "After all, I merely fear him."

"His death alone will suffice."

Under Yao Guangxiao’s influence, driven by that white hat, Zhu Di—though ambitious—still held to his own moral boundary before the cause of righteousness.

"It was merely this monk’s suggestion."

"Whether Your Highness accepts or rejects it rests entirely with Your Highness," Yao Guangxiao said calmly.

"Of course, the northern frontier deserts are full of the unknown."

"Your Highness could test Zhu Ying—if he can be won to Your Highness’s side, it would be ideal."

Yao Guangxiao’s words carried a faint smile, as if hinting at something.

"Naturally."

Zhu Di nodded heavily, yet his expression remained grim: "Brother treated him with such great kindness—how easy would it be to win his allegiance?"

…

(End of Chapter)