Volume One, Chapter One: Zhu Yuanzhang Has Passed Away

Year twenty-five of the Hongwu reign, ninth day of the ninth month, night.

“Your Highness, Your Highness! Something terrible has happened…”

In the city of Ying Tian, at the residence of the Prince of Ning.

A tall eunuch, his face filled with panic, rushed into the bedchamber of Prince Zhu Quan.

Zhu Quan paused, his brow furrowing slightly, and asked in a deep voice, “Sanbao! What has happened? Why are you so flustered tonight?”

Sanbao swallowed hard, his face flushed as he replied, “It’s… it’s His Majesty! News just came from the palace—His Majesty has… has passed away.”

Thunk.

The ship model Zhu Quan held slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, yet he seemed not to notice.

Father… Father has died?

The shock of the news was overwhelming. Just three months earlier, Crown Prince Zhu Biao had died from a fever, and now Old Zhu was suddenly gone as well?

Zhu Quan clearly remembered that the history books recorded Zhu Yuanzhang’s death in the thirty-first year of the Hongwu reign—six years from now. Was this the butterfly effect brought by his own crossing into this world?

The thought flashed through Zhu Quan’s mind, and his gaze abruptly sharpened.

As a transmigrant, Zhu Quan knew all too well who would ascend the throne after Zhu Yuanzhang’s death.

It would be his elder nephew, Zhu Yunwen, later known as the Jianwen Emperor, son of the Eastern Palace.

And what his nephew would do after claiming the throne was even clearer in Zhu Quan’s mind.

Others, when curbing the power of princely clans, merely reduced their military authority. But his nephew not only demoted the royal uncles to commoners, he even forced them all to relocate to remote, desolate regions like Yunnan and Lingnan.

To achieve this, he went so far as to slander the honest Prince of Xiang, Zhu Bo, accusing him of forging currency, which led the old prince to prove his innocence by setting fire to his residence and perishing with his entire family.

No! Zhu Yunwen must not be allowed to take the throne. Though I have been quietly preparing for the campaign of Jingnan these years, it would be best not to stir up trouble unless absolutely necessary.

Zhu Quan made his decision at once, a ruthless gleam rising in his eyes.

Had he not returned to the capital for Zhu Biao’s funeral, and delayed his departure for other reasons, he might have missed this crucial moment.

If he missed it, stranded far away in Danning Prefecture, even with extraordinary abilities he could only watch helplessly as Zhu Yunwen ascended the throne, then follow the course of history four years later, joining the rebellion with the Fourth Prince.

Thinking of Prince Yan, Zhu Di, Zhu Quan could not help but shake his head and mutter, “The Fourth isn’t much better. This time, the throne is out of the question. You’d best content yourself with being my General of Northern Expeditions.”

“Your Highness, what are you saying?” Sanbao asked, his expression puzzled.

Zhu Quan would never reveal his innermost thoughts, not even to Sanbao, the eunuch he had brought to his side ten years ago and who would one day achieve great feats for Ming.

He smiled lightly and shook his head, “It’s nothing. By the way, is the news confirmed?”

“It is,” Ma Sanbao replied, his gaze steady. “The information came from our agent, delivered by carrier hawk.”

“What’s the current situation in the palace?” Zhu Quan nodded, pressing further.

He had indeed placed agents in the palace, all recruited years ago—unremarkable eunuchs and palace maids.

At first, Zhu Quan simply pitied them. But as their status rose, they became an invisible force.

Eventually, Zhu Quan followed Wu Zetian’s example, organizing these maids and eunuchs into a secret intelligence group called the Lijing Gate.

As Zhu Quan moved out to his fief, Lijing Gate grew stronger, rivaling even the Ming secret police, the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Ma Sanbao’s face clouded with worry, a hint of frustration in his tone. “Reports say His Majesty died an hour ago. But after his passing, Jiang Huan did not inform the imperial harem or the ministers; instead, he went straight to the Eastern Palace.”

“To the Eastern Palace?” Zhu Quan’s eyes narrowed instantly. “That treacherous dog—he’s scheming well.”

“Trying to curry favor with Zhu Yunwen while the news is still contained, giving him a window to take control?”

“Heh! A clever plan, but I am not so easily outmaneuvered.”

In that moment, Zhu Quan saw through Jiang Huan’s intentions.

As the saying goes, each emperor brings his own court. For officials and generals, their fate depends on the emperor’s favor—especially the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Without imperial support, even Jiang Huan, feared by all as the commander of the Guard, could become a mere pest, crushed at will.

So Jiang Huan sought to win the new ruler’s favor, hoping his loyalty would allow him to keep command of the Guard.

Unfortunately for him, his choice was flawed…

With that thought, Zhu Quan stood abruptly, his face turning stern and resolute.

The past was past. Since he was here, he would not allow Zhu Yunwen to ascend, nor give Zhu Di a chance to rebel.

The sons of Han have suffered enough; they must not endure the calamity of war again.

“Your Highness, where are you going?”

Seeing Zhu Quan stride toward the door, Ma Sanbao asked in confusion.

“To the palace,” Zhu Quan replied, not looking back, his voice drifting to Ma Sanbao’s ears.

“Immediately inform Ji Gang. Have him take control of all Embroidered Guards in the capital with a rank of hundred households or higher. Also, monitor all noble residences—no one is to leave tonight without my written order.”

Ji Gang was the man who now helped Zhu Quan manage Lijing Gate.

After a few more steps, Zhu Quan added, “And have Deng Zhen bring all the palace guards to accompany me to the palace.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Ma Sanbao bowed, hurrying off to carry out the orders.

Soon, as Zhu Quan reached the gates of the prince’s residence, Deng Zhen was already waiting with five hundred guards.

Anyone with eyes could see that Deng Zhen’s soldiers were tall and imposing, each radiating a fierce aura—without doubt, elite warriors.

Indeed, Zhu Quan’s guards were not only elite soldiers.

Most were chosen from the Three Guards of Doyan; even the weakest among them had taken hundreds of lives.

As for Deng Zhen…

He was an underestimated commander, his talents rivaling Lan Yu and Chang Yuchun.

His father, Deng Yu, was Ming’s founding Duke of Weiguo, posthumously named King of Ninghe by Zhu Yuanzhang.

Originally, Deng Zhen should have died in the Hu Weiyong case, but Zhu Quan’s arrival and a youthful wager changed his fate.

When Zhu Quan moved to his fief, Deng Zhen gave the title of Duke to his younger brother Deng Ming, following Zhu Quan north to Danning as a commoner.

“Your Highness!”

Upon seeing Zhu Quan, Deng Zhen and all the guards saluted, their right fists thumping against their left chests.

Zhu Quan merely nodded to them, then mounted a horse—its body black as night, its four hooves white as snow.

Seated on the Snow-Stepping Black Steed, Zhu Quan swept his gaze across his guards, his voice low and thunderous.

“Deng Zhen.”

“At your command.”

“Follow me to the palace.”

“Yes!”

…