Chapter 341: Empress Ma's Birthday Celebration

Leaving Cao Guo Gong Fu, it was already afternoon.

Zhu Yong rode his horse through the street, feeling considerably more at ease.

He didn't know whether this medicine could save Li Wenzhong, but at least there was a sliver of hope.

Back at Wu Wang Fu, Guanyin Nu was teaching Zhu Qiongjiong how to recognize characters in the courtyard.

Zhu Qiongjiong lay on the stone table, pen in hand, his face smeared with ink.

"Dad!" Seeing Zhu Yong return, Zhu Qiongjiong dropped his pen and rushed over.

Zhu Yong bent down, lifted him up, and laughed, "Still not writing properly?"

Zhu Qiongjiong pouted, "The characters are too hard to write; I don't want to write."

Guanyin Nu came over, helplessly shaking her head, "This child is just like you when you were young—can't sit still."

Zhu Yong smiled faintly and said nothing.

When he was a child? He hadn't even touched a pen as a child; after being recognized as a descendant, Zhu Biao taught him hand‑by‑hand.

"Dad, where did you go today?" Zhu Qiongjiong asked.

Zhu Yong patted his head, "I went to see your uncle."

"Has your uncle recovered?"

"Almost."

Zhu Qiongjiong nodded and asked, "Dad, when will you take me to battle?"

Zhu Yong chuckled, "You're so young, what war could you fight?"

Zhu Qiongjiong puffed out his little chest, "I'm not little anymore; I can eat three bowls of rice and lift a hundred‑jin Stone Lock!"

"When you're older, Dad will take you to the battlefield to see," he said with a smile.

Zhu Qiongjiong's eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously.

The eighteenth year of Hongwu, the eighteenth day of the seventh month.

Empress Ma's birthday.

In Kunning Palace, lanterns and ribbons were strung, and more than a dozen banquet tables were set with wine.

Princes, grandsons, princesses, and consorts all arrived.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat on the Main Seat, dressed in a dark red formal robe, looking vigorous.

Empress Ma sat beside him, wearing a festive red palace outfit, a smile on her face.

Zhu Biao sat on the left with Chang Wan and the children, while Zhu Yong sat on the right with Guanyin Nu and the children.

Zhu Gang, Zhu Di, Zhu Zhen, and Zhu Fu, who had been stationed abroad, all hurried back this year.

The hall was bustling, with voices, laughter, and children's clamor blending together.

Zhu Biao stood, raised his cup, "Father Imperial, Mother Imperial, your son offers a toast to both of you, wishing Mother Imperial blessings as vast as the Eastern Sea and longevity as the Southern Mountains."

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded, and Empress Ma smiled and drank.

Zhu Yong also stood, "Dad, Mom, I too toast both of you."

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at him and laughed, "Yong Er, you've toiled abroad these past two years; today, have a few more drinks."

Zhu Yong smiled, "Dad, I can't drink much."

Zhu Yuanzhang waved his hand, "Even if you can't, you must drink; it's rare for the whole family to gather together."

Zhu Gang, standing nearby, jeered, "Second Prince, you mustn't deny Father Imperial face!"

Zhu Di also laughed, "Exactly, Second Prince, you have to drink three cups today!"

Zhu Yong looked at his younger brothers, smiled and shook his head, lifted his cup and drained it in one gulp.

"Good!" Zhu Gang clapped.

Zhu Yong set down his cup and looked at Empress Ma, "Mother, I brought you a gift from the Timur Estate."

He pulled a brocade box from his bosom and handed it over with both hands.

Empress Ma took it, opened it, and saw a piece of white jade Guanyin, warm and delicate, exquisitely carved.

"This was carved by a master craftsman over at the Timur Estate, using Hetian jade. I thought Mother was a Buddhist, so I brought it back," Zhu Yong said.

Empress Ma looked at the jade, her eyes slightly reddened.

"Good, good, Mother likes it," she said, pulling Zhu Yong's hand and gently patting it.

Zhu Gang leaned in, "Second Prince, you brought Mother such a fine gift; what did you bring for the younger brothers?"

Zhu Yong smiled, "I have them all."

He had Zhang Wu bring the gifts inside.

For Zhu Yuanzhang, it was a large Damascus steel sword, its scabbard inlaid with ruby and turquoise, utterly magnificent.

For Zhu Biao, it was a set of Persian miniature albums depicting the customs of the Timur Empire, exquisitely beautiful.

For Zhu Gang, it was an Arabian steed, jet‑black all over, its four hooves snow‑white, a truly magnificent mount.

For Zhu Di, it was a set of Persian armor, forged from fine steel, its surface engraved with delicate patterns, both light and sturdy.

For Zhu Zhen and Zhu Fu, each received a large Damascus steel curved blade, razor‑sharp.

There were also gifts for the nephews and nieces: a box of gems per person and a Persian carpet each.

The hall was extremely lively.

It was only Zhu Shuang, who is in Australia, who didn't come back; otherwise he would have known that without his own gift he must

Zhu Gang stroked the black horse, unable to part with it, and said, "Second Prince, this horse is superb! Far better than those I rode in the Eastern Seas!"

Zhu Di donned the Persian armor, walked a circle in the hall, and laughed, "It's light, much lighter than our iron armor, and its protection is still decent."

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at his sons, smiled and shook his head, "Look at you all, each looking like a proper adult; none of you have that little monkey look from childhood anymore."

Zhu Gang chuckled, "Father Imperial, I wasn't mischievous as a child."

Zhu Yuanzhang glared at him and said, "You're not being mischievous; you forgot the time you were a child carrying a stick to fight crickets and got your hand slapped by your Second Prince?"

Laughter erupted in the hall.

Zhu Gang rubbed his nose and sat down sheepishly.

Zhu Yong looked at his younger brothers and suddenly felt a vague, indescribable complex emotion.

It had been more than ten years; they had all grown up.

Zhu Gang, in the East, kept the place under tight control, and the Gold and Silver mines yielded more each year.

Zhu Di, in the Western Regions, pacified those tribes so they obeyed, and the trade routes ran smoothly without obstruction.

Zhu Zhen, in Goryeo, governed the Korean manor so that the people lived in peace and prosperity.

Zhu Fu, in the South Sea, gradually developed those islands, planting rubber and spices, reaping abundant profits.

And Zhu Shuang, who was in Australia—though he hadn't returned—had sent a gift: a pair of kangaroo‑skin boots, said to be for the Imperial Father.

The little brats who used to shout "Second Prince" behind his backside are now great figures who can handle matters on their own.

After three rounds of Wine, Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly asked, "Yong Er, have you gone to see Wen Zhong's illness?"

Zhu Yong nodded and replied, "I have, Father. I sent the medicine over."

Zhu Yuanzhang was silent for a moment, sighed, "Wen Zhong, that child, has been with us fighting the world, full of wounds; sometimes when I think of him, my heart feels uneasy."

Empress Ma whispered beside him, "Zhong Ba, don't overthink it; Yong Er delivered the medicine, Wen Zhong will recover."

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded, lifted his wine cup and said, "Come, drink."

When the longevity banquet dispersed, it was already the Hai Hour.

Zhu Yong led Guanyin Nu and the children out of Kunning Palace; Moonlight flowed like water, illuminating the palace path.

Zhu Qiong Jiong lay on Zhu Yong's back, already asleep.

Zhu Huanhuan stayed by her mother's side and whispered, "Father, will cousin‑uncle's illness get better?"

Zhu Yong was silent for a moment and said, "It will get better."

Zhu Huanhuan nodded and asked no more.

Returning to Wu Wang Fu, Zhu Yong settled the children, then sat in the study, lost in thought.

He recalled the history of his previous life: Li Wenzhong had died in the seventeenth year of Hongwu.

But now it was the eighteenth year of Hongwu, and Li Wenzhong was still alive.

The medicine he sent—could it take effect?

He did not know.

But he knew there was at least a sliver of hope.

Outside the window, the moonlight was just right.

In the distance, the faint clang of a husband's gong could be heard.

The eighteenth year of Hongwu, July 15th.

Zhu Yong was in the study reading the documents sent from Tie Mu Er's manor when Zhang Wu entered to report.

"Prince, someone from Cao Guo Gong Fu has arrived, saying Cao Guo Gong has awakened and wishes to see you."

Zhu Yong set the documents aside and stood up.

When he hurried to Cao Guo Gong Fu, Li Wenzhong was leaning on the bed, eating porridge.

His complexion was much better than a few days ago; though still thin, there was some color in his face.

"Prince!" Seeing Zhu Yong, Li Wenzhong put down his bowl, his eyes reddening again.

Zhu Yong walked over, sat at his bedside and said, "Cousin, how do you feel?"

Li Wenzhong clasped his hand, his voice trembling slightly, "Prince, this life of mine was given by you."

Zhu Yong shook his head, "Cousin, don't say that; just focus on recovering."

Li Wenzhong nodded, then said, "Prince, in this lifetime, serving His Majesty to conquer the world and serving you to guard it has been worth it."

Zhu Yong patted his hand and said, "Cousin, you're still young; there are many years ahead."

Li Wenzhong smiled, his smile carrying relief and gratitude.

"Prince, when I'm well again, I'll go with you to visit Tie Mu Er's manor."

Zhu Yong smiled, "Alright, I'll be waiting for you."

Leaving Cao Guo Gong Fu, the sky was already darkening.

Zhu Yong rode his horse through the streets, feeling much lighter at heart.

The medicine took effect.

Li Wenzhong's life was saved.

He looked up at the sky; the setting sun painted the whole Yingtian Prefecture golden.

In the distance, the temple bells rang, long and tranquil.

The summer of the eighteenth year of Hongwu was about to end.