Chapter 21: Memories of Zhu Yuanzhang and His Son!

The imperial palace, Kunninggong!

This palace is now sealed off.

Except for the daily cleaning by palace maids, no one is allowed near this palace.

Because this palace is a forbidden place for the current emperor.

“Your servant pays homage to the Crown Prince.”

The commanding general of the Imperial Guard and his troops immediately bowed.

“Father is inside, isn’t he?” Zhu Biao said with a smile.

“He is inside.”

General Guo Ying replied respectfully.

“Hmm.”

Zhu Biao nodded, looked up at the palace, his face filled with countless thoughts.

Then he stepped inside.

Inside the palace!

Zhu Yuanzhang had changed out of his court robes, his face worn with a sorrowful expression.

His gaze fell upon three spirit tablets placed on the table before the main hall, the incense burner on the table already filled with countless burned-out incense sticks.

For all these years.

The incense in this burner has never been extinguished.

“Father.”

Zhu Biao entered and called softly.

That voice.

Made Zhu Yuanzhang, who had been staring at the spirit tablets, pause slightly, then snap back to awareness.

“Older son is here.”

Zhu Yuanzhang turned his head and smiled faintly: “Light incense for your mother and them.”

“Yes.”

Zhu Biao did not hesitate.

He walked straight to the table, picked up an incense stick, lit it, and placed it in the burner.

As Zhu Biao offered the incense,

the three spirit tablets came clearly into view.

The highest tablet.

Wife, Ma Xiuying’s Spirit Tablet.

On this tablet, Ma Empress’s royal title was not written—no imperial status at all.

Because this tablet was not erected by Zhu Yuanzhang, but by Zhu Zhongba.

What was written here was “wife,” Zhu Zhongba’s wife.

On the side tablets below:

Daughter-in-law, Chang Wan’er’s Spirit Tablet.

Eldest grandson, Zhu Xiongying’s Spirit Tablet.

Without doubt,

the spirits enshrined in Kunninggong were Zhu Yuanzhang’s closest kin—his true family. No, strictly speaking, they were Zhu Zhongba’s closest kin.

“How many years have passed?”

Zhu Yuanzhang stared at Ma Empress’s spirit tablet, his aged face etched with sorrow.

“Father.”

“Mother and Xiongying have been gone six years.”

“Sister Chang has been gone from me ten years.”

Zhu Biao gazed at the three spirit tablets and spoke slowly.

“Time!”

“It truly is a sharp blade.”

“Before we knew it, so many years have slipped away.”

Zhu Yuanzhang sighed.

“The dead are gone.”

“Father, you must take care of your health,” Zhu Biao said gently.

“Today in court, something just reminded me of events from long ago.”

“I still remember when we defeated Chen Youliang—your father-in-law stood before me, saying he’d cut off Chen Youliang’s head and present it to me. That battle—your father-in-law was fearless, killing seventy-eight enemies single-handedly, slaying Chen Youliang’s son, his fame shaking the world.”

“Even after all these years, I can still see your father-in-law’s heroic figure.”

“Too bad… time flows on, and old friends are slowly gone—your father-in-law, your Uncle Xu, sigh…”

Zhu Yuanzhang sighed, revealing a grief he showed only to Zhu Biao.

“Father.”

“Everything is past.”

Zhu Biao spoke gently, unsure how to comfort his father.

After all, his father had reached such an age—now was the time for tender sentiment.

Of course,

even Zhu Biao himself often missed his son, his wife, his mother.

Human nature—how could one call it wrong?

“If our Xiongying were still alive, he’d be fourteen now,” Zhu Yuanzhang murmured, gazing at his grandson’s spirit tablet.

At that moment,

Zhu Biao also froze.

His mind involuntarily recalled the days when his mother, wife, and children were still alive.

In this same Kunninggong,

a little boy, no more than a few years old, was scrambling in panic, surrounded by Imperial Guards and palace maids and eunuchs.

Behind them all ran a young man—Zhu Biao himself—brandishing a rattan cane, chasing after him.

“You little rascal, you skipped class at Daben Hall again?”

“And took your twelfth and seventeenth uncles to steal bird nests?”

“Today, your old man’s going to beat your ass raw.”

“You little brat…”

Zhu Biao chased the boy, cane in hand, scolding all the while.

The palace maids and eunuchs stood respectfully aside, watching the scene with odd expressions.

The boy dashed straight into Kunninggong.

Clearly, he was young Zhu Xiongying.

Seeing Empress Ma at the palace gate, Zhu Xiongying sprinted forward and threw himself into his grandmother’s arms.

“Grandma!”

“Dad’s gone mad—he’s going to beat me to death again, and force me to memorize books! I’m just a kid—he’s always picking on me!” Zhu Xiongying wailed pitifully.

“There, there, Grandma’s here.”

Empress Ma first patted Zhu Xiongying’s back tenderly, then turned a stern face toward Zhu Biao.

“Older son.”

“What are you doing?”

“Xiongying is still so young—why chase him like this?”

“What if he falls?” Empress Ma said indulgently.

“Mother.”

“This brat is lazy, refuses to study, and drags his uncles into mischief,” Zhu Biao glared at Zhu Xiongying, teeth clenched.

But now that he had a protector, Zhu Xiongying hid behind Empress Ma, grinning triumphantly.

“Older son.”

At that moment,

Zhu Yuanzhang stepped out from inside the hall.

“Father, what are you doing here too?”

Zhu Biao saw him and immediately sighed in resignation.

With both his father and mother present, he wouldn’t be able to beat the brat today.

“What, can’t I have lunch with your mother?” Zhu Yuanzhang grumbled.

But when he saw Zhu Xiongying,

Zhu Yuanzhang’s face instantly softened into a tender smile; he crouched down: “Xiongying, come to Grandpa.”

“Grandpa!”

Zhu Xiongying dashed toward Zhu Yuanzhang, calling out sweetly.

“Hah.”

“My grandson’s grown taller and heavier.”

Zhu Yuanzhang held Zhu Xiongying in his arms, his face filled with tenderness—no trace of the founding emperor’s might, only the doting affection of an old man for his grandson.

The bond across generations was fully evident.

His thoughts turned back.

Zhu Biao sighed inwardly: “Mother, Xiongying, Sister Chang, how are you all doing over there?”

…

North of Danning Prefecture, on the northern frontier, within the territory of the Jianzhou Tartars.

Several hundred cavalry surrounded a group of fleeing Tartar stragglers and the Tartar civilians they were protecting.

At this moment.

Many of these Tartars glared at the surrounding Ming cavalry with hatred.

“Surrender and live; those who refuse, die.”

Zhu Ying raised his long blade and shouted lowly.

“Damned Ming dogs.”

“Our sons, we die rather than surrender.”

“Sons, fight them to the death!”

“Our leader will avenge us...”

The lead Tartar soldier shouted, raised his sword, and charged toward the front-line Ming cavalry.

Seeing this.

Zhu Ying showed no hesitation: “Kill!”

A low command.

He spurred his horse.

The warhorse surged forward at full speed.

…

PS: All support is appreciated—thank you, truly.

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(End of Chapter)