Chapter 169: It’s Easier To Defeat The Bandit In The Mountains Than The Bandit In The Heart! Please Vote Monthly
Back boils are a bacterial infection that was difficult to treat before the advent of antibiotics.
Of course, this is not to say that there was no way to treat back boils in ancient times.
If the back boil was mild, it could still be treated; the most difficult part was complete healing.
In ancient Traditional Chinese Medicine, back boils were mostly treated with herbal medicine to enhance the body’s immunity, relying on the human immune system to eliminate the bacteria.
This type of treatment often resulted in apparent healing, while the bacteria actually remained latent.
Many famous people throughout history have died from back boils, such as Fan Zeng and Zong Ze.
Legend has it that Xu Da also died from back boils, but according to historical records, this is not the case at all.
Therefore, back boils were considered a severe illness, a terminal disease where it was said that “if pus forms, ten will die and one will live.”
It is also worth mentioning.
Traditional Chinese Medicine treatment for back boils not only involved taking medicine but also surgery, and after recovery, long-term treatment was required to prevent recurrence and life-threatening complications.
According to records in the Ming History, Zhu Biao’s back boil healed in just over ten days, which was almost impossible in ancient times.
Therefore, it can be inferred that his back boil was superficially healed, but the lesion remained latent.
However, he did not stay in the capital to continue treatment but instead traveled a great distance to Shaanxi to perform his duties, which created conditions for the back boil to recur.
Furthermore, Zhu Biao, like Old Zhu, was a workaholic and would disregard his health when busy.
Crucially, he did not have Old Zhu’s robust health; his constitution was rather poor from childhood.
Under these circumstances, the possibility of the back boil recurring was very high.
Perhaps he caught a “cold” on the road, or perhaps he took “poison” he shouldn’t have, but regardless, these were contributing factors; fundamentally, it was the recurrence of the back boil.
Therefore, Zhu Biao’s death was most likely due to the recurrence of his back boil, combined with his high-intensity work, which led to ineffective treatment and ultimately his premature death.
“Hahaha… Heh heh… Hahahahaha—!”
Old Zhu’s frenzied laughter, like a night owl’s cry of blood, echoed madly within the vast Huagai Hall, shaking dust from the beams and pillars.
There was no joy in the laughter, only immense absurdity, bone-chilling sorrow, and a madness born from being cruelly toyed with by fate.
He laughed, throwing his head back and forth, his plump body trembling violently, tears streaming from his eyes.
But his eyes were bloodshot, churning with a wrath that could incinerate everything and a pain that penetrated to the bone.
Yun Ming and all the eunuchs and palace maids standing in the hall were already terrified out of their wits.
They all fell to their knees with thuds, trembling like sieves, their heads firmly pressed against the golden bricks, not daring to breathe.
“Yun Ming!”
The laughter stopped abruptly, and Old Zhu spun his head, staring intently at Yun Ming, who knelt closest. His voice was hoarse and distorted, like sandpaper rubbing together, “Where is my precious sword?!”
“Yes! Yes… this servant will fetch it… will fetch it immediately…”
Yun Ming, terrified, scrambled to fetch Old Zhu’s precious sword, which was simply adorned but had drunk countless gallons of blood.
Old Zhu snatched the precious sword, and with a ‘clang,’ the sharp blade was unsheathed.
The cold gleam of the sword reflected in his bloodshot eyes, which were almost splitting open.
He couldn’t help but murmur to himself:
“With this precious sword in hand, I beheaded countless enemies to establish this Zhu family’s empire…”
“I thought… I thought I could give you all a good life… I didn’t expect…”
As he spoke, he suddenly waved his hand, like a mad tiger.
“Bang—!”
The precious sword, with a whistling sound, ruthlessly struck the hard rosewood imperial desk.
With a loud crash, the corner of the desk was instantly severed, and wood chips flew everywhere.
Memorials, ink and brush, and the Imperial Seal were also sent scattering.
“Why—!”
Old Zhu, like a wounded beast, let out a mournful roar, his bloodshot eyes glaring at the void, as if questioning the merciless heavens, or perhaps scolding his deceased beloved son:
“Why did you hide it from me?! Why did you bear it all alone?! Huh?!”
“You are the Crown Prince! The son of me, Zhu Chongba! The Crown Prince of the realm! If you hurt! If you suffered! You should have told your father!”
“Father will find the best physicians in the world for you! Father will turn the Imperial Hospital upside down to treat you!”
“Why did you believe those nonsensical things!? Why did you secretly take medicine!? Why—!”
As he roared, he madly brandished the precious sword in his hand, striking at anything within reach.
“Boom!”
A enamel-glazed vase, half as tall as a person, was struck and fell onto the golden bricks, shattering into pieces.
“Crack!”
An exquisite screen was cut in half.
The hall was instantly in disarray, as if swept by a hurricane.
All the eunuchs and palace maids huddled together in terror, their cries and pleas suppressed in their throats, filled only with endless fear.
Old Zhu seemed to have exhausted most of his strength, leaning on the precious sword, his chest heaving, gasping for breath.
But the madness in his eyes had not subsided; instead, it shifted to an extreme, icy ferocity.
After a long while, Old Zhu slowly raised his head, his gaze once again sharp as a knife, looking towards the Imperial Prison.
Zhang Biao…
You guessed it long ago, didn’t you?
You said I killed Biao’er, right?
If I hadn’t urged Biao’er to go to Shaanxi, if I hadn’t put so much pressure on him, he wouldn’t have ended up like this, right?
You deliberately spread the “suspicion of the Crown Prince’s death” to force me to find this result? To watch me lose composure and suffer like this today, right?
An unspeakable rage and killing intent surged within him once more.
But this thought only flashed by.
He had more important matters to attend to now.
This truth must never be made public!
The Crown Prince’s reputation must be protected! The dignity of the imperial family must not be tarnished!
He suddenly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Song Zhong, who was kneeling on the ground, trembling like falling leaves in the autumn wind.
“Song Zhong!”
These two words were ground out from between his teeth, carrying the taste of blood.
Song Zhong felt an icy chill rush from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, almost making him faint. He could only kowtow desperately, “This subject… this subject is here… Your Imperial Majesty, forgive my sins… Your Imperial Majesty, forgive my sins!”
“Forgive sins?”
Old Zhu walked up to him step by step, his shadow completely engulfing Song Zhong. His voice was terrifyingly low, like demonic music from hell:
“This ‘truth’ you uncovered… who else knows?”
“No… no one else!”
Song Zhong was beside himself with fear and quickly said, “This subject… as soon as this subject reached this conclusion, he did not dare to delay for a moment, nor did he dare to speak to anyone. He immediately came to report to Your Imperial Majesty!”
“Liu Chun of the Imperial Hospital… this subject has already had him placed under guard, but he… he does not know this subject’s final deduction…”
“Very good.”
Old Zhu’s voice revealed no emotion, but the precious sword in his hand slowly rose, its blade placed at Song Zhong’s neck.
The shadow of death instantly enveloped Song Zhong.
He closed his eyes in despair, awaiting the final judgment.
However, the precious sword did not cut his neck.
After a long while, Old Zhu’s icy voice rang out again:
“You, return immediately. Seal all related files, confessions, and physical evidence, and classify them as top secret!”
“Without my imperial order, no one is allowed to access them!”
“Liu Chun of the Imperial Hospital, and all other involved individuals who are aware of this, are to be secretly confined and strictly guarded!”
“Do not allow him to die, nor allow him to see anyone!”
“Anything that happens in the hall today, if even a single word is leaked…”
Old Zhu’s gaze swept over all the trembling eunuchs and palace maids on the ground, finally fixing on Song Zhong: “All of you, along with your nine generations of relatives, will be executed!”
“This subject… this subject obeys the imperial edict! Thank Your Imperial Majesty for sparing my life!”
Song Zhong felt as if he had received a great amnesty. He retreated from the main hall, crawling and scrambling, his back already soaked with cold sweat.
Old Zhu watched Song Zhong’s retreating figure and then looked at the mess on the ground and the kneeling servants. The madness in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a profound, unsettling calm.
But beneath that calm was an icy coldness more terrifying than the previous rage.
He slowly walked back to the dragon throne, sat down dejectedly, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.
The hall was deathly silent, save for his heavy breathing.
All the pain, all the absurdity, all the responsibility, could only be borne alone by him, the father, the Emperor.
And certain people… those who may have been unintentional but indirectly contributed to this tragedy… would have to pay a price.
A glint of extreme cold ruthlessness flashed in Old Zhu’s eyes.
He said Biao’er secretly used forbidden medicine himself? Couldn’t bear the pain?
Nonsense! All nonsense!
That was my Biao’er! The Crown Prince I cultivated with all my heart! How could he be so foolish!? How could he use those potent drugs to harm himself?!
His suspicious nature, like a poisonous vine, grew wildly, instantly overturning Song Zhong’s seemingly reasonable deduction.
Why did he secretly take medicine? Because he was in pain! Why was he in so much pain that he needed to take medicine secretly? Because the imperial physicians were incompetent! Why were the imperial physicians incompetent? Because someone wanted them to be incompetent!
Who told him those strange incenses, those so-called ‘elixirs,’ could relieve pain?!
Who delivered those things to him?! Who offered him this fatal ‘poisoned wine’ when he was most in pain and vulnerable?!
Second Prince! Third Prince! Fifth Prince! And those seemingly loyal dogs! You are all implicated!
This was not self-harm! This was a more sinister and hidden murder using Biao’er’s illness! It was killing by praise! It was chronic poisoning!
Old Zhu’s thoughts, amidst extreme grief and anger, veered towards an even more paranoid and dark direction.
He refused to accept the fact that his son had “self-destructed” and had to find an external “killer” onto whom he could vent his rage and hatred.
Only in this way could he alleviate his gnawing guilt and helplessness.
After all, no father could accept the fact that he had “indirectly caused his son’s death.”
The guilt of not noticing his son’s pain, the despair of being unable to save his son’s life, completely consumed Old Zhu’s heart.
He suddenly stood up from the dragon throne again.
But instead of continuing to hack madly in the hall, he held his precious sword and, like a god of death returning from hell, strode out of the Huagai Hall towards Fengxian Hall.
Fengxian Hall housed the ancestral tablets of the Great Ming ancestors and Empress Ma, and it was also where Crown Prince Zhu Biao’s spirit tablet was temporarily placed.
He was going there! To the spirit tablets of his son and his wife!
Along the way, all the palace maids, eunuchs, and guards he encountered, seeing the Emperor in such a state, were terrified and prostrated themselves on the ground, trembling, not daring to even lift their heads.
Old Zhu paid no heed to any of this; his world contained only boundless rage and the piercing truth.
“Bang—!”
The heavy door of Fengxian Hall was kicked open by Old Zhu.
He walked up to Zhu Biao’s spirit tablet, holding his precious sword.
Looking at his beloved son’s name on the tablet, his body trembled violently, and tears finally poured out uncontrollably.
“Biao’er… my son…”
He extended his trembling hand, caressed the cold tablet, and his voice was hoarse and broken, “Father… Father is sorry to you… Father didn’t protect you…”
But in the next second, endless sorrow was replaced by even more fervent killing intent.
He abruptly turned around, planted the tip of his sword firmly on the ground, and let out a vow-like roar at the empty hall, at the ancestral tablets:
“Ancestors above! Empress! You all watch me!”
“I, Zhu Yuanzhang, swear here! I will not let Biao’er die in vain!”
“All those who killed him! All those involved! I will not let any of them go! I will make them pay with their blood—!”
The roar echoed in the hall, carrying sky-high resentment and the Emperor’s paranoia.
After venting, Old Zhu’s emotions seemed to have calmed slightly, but his eyes became even colder and more menacing.
He wiped the tears from his face and transformed back into the ruthless Hongwu Great Emperor.
“Yun Ming!”
“This servant is here!”
Yun Ming quickly crawled in and knelt on the ground.
Old Zhu’s voice was frighteningly calm, yet contained a storm: “Convey my imperial edict.”
“Immediately summon Prince Qin Zhu Shuang, Prince Jin Zhu Gang, and Prince Zhou Zhu Su to Fengxian Hall to see me at once!”
“Tell them, I am waiting for them… before the ancestral tablets and their elder brother’s spirit tablet!”
“Anyone who dares to delay… will be punished for disobeying the imperial edict!”
He wanted to personally interrogate his three sons in Fengxian Hall, under the watchful eyes of his ancestors and his deceased son.
He wanted to see who, at his son’s most painful moment, had offered him that fatal ‘poisoned wine.’
He did not believe in coincidence or accident; he only believed in the knife in his hand and the bloody ‘truth’ that was about to arrive.
“Yes! This servant obeys the imperial edict!”
Yun Ming scrambled out to deliver the edict.
Inside Fengxian Hall, the candlelight flickered, illuminating Old Zhu’s unyielding and resolute back, as hard as stone.
A tragic drama of suspicion between father and son, and fratricide, to be held before the ancestral tablets, was about to begin.
…
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Prison, Room Jia Zi San.
Jiang Huan stood outside the prison gate, staring at Zhang Biao, who was leaning against the wall. He said in a deep voice, “Zhang Biao, you have seen the Emperor’s sincerity.”
“The court is in an uproar, and the princes are entering the capital; the imperial family’s affairs have been brought to a head. Now, it is time for you to show your sincerity. Regarding the events in Shaanxi and the Crown Prince’s death, write down all that you know.”
A brief silence fell in the prison cell.
Zhang Biao had his eyes half-closed, appearing bored.
Upon hearing Jiang Huan’s words, he slowly raised his head. Far from showing any emotion or gratitude, a piercingly mocking and disdainful cold smile appeared on his face.
He even lazily picked at his ear, as if what he had just heard was some unbearable noise.
“Sincerity?”
Zhang Biao scoffed, his voice filled with deep sarcasm, “Commander Jiang, you call this sincerity?”
He slowly stood up, paced to the prison gate, and looked at Jiang Huan through the bars, his eyes as if looking at a naive fool:
“Placing a few broken drums at the Meridian Gate and having a bunch of nameless riffraff beat them, is that called sincerity?”
“Summoning your few useless sons back, confining them to the courtyard to read and calm their minds, is that called a thorough investigation?”
“Are Fu Youwen and Ru Chang, those old worms, still being kept in the Imperial Prison with food and drink?”
“Are the real big fish behind them still alive and well outside, perhaps even watching the show in secret, thinking how to get rid of both you, Commander Jiang, and me, Zhang Biao?”
His speech quickened, his tone becoming sharper, each word like a poisoned dagger, stabbing fiercely at Jiang Huan, and through Jiang Huan, at Old Zhu in the deep palace:
“Does Old Zhu think that by creating this stir, putting on a show of ‘eliminating relatives for justice’ and ‘opening up avenues for speech,’ he can fool me like a three-year-old child?”
“And that I will be grateful and hand over my life-saving trump card?”
At this point, Zhang Biao suddenly slammed his hand on the prison gate bars, making a loud ‘clang,’ which startled Jiang Huan.
The flippant expression on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a ferocity bordering on madness:
“Go back and tell Zhu Chongba!”
“His so-called ‘sincerity,’ which feels like a mere tickle, I can’t even be bothered to acknowledge!”
“I want to see the heads of Fu Youwen, Ru Chang, and their ilk hanging from the city gates!”
“I want to see the princes hidden behind them, the real manipulators of events, brought to justice and publicly executed!”
“I want to see a true ‘scraping the bone to cure the poison’ cleansing of the Great Ming court from top to bottom!”
He stared intently at Jiang Huan, his eyes burning with a mad fire, and roared word by word:
“If that Zhu Chongba is old, can no longer wield the blade, and lacks the resolve to be ruthless…”
Zhang Biao’s lips curved into an extremely cruel and eerie arc, his voice suddenly lowered, but with a bone-chilling finality: “Then don’t blame me for doing it myself!”
“Even if I, Zhang Biao, have only one breath left, I will use the wall dust of this Imperial Prison to write their death warrants! With the blood of this dying man, I will curse them to never be reborn!”
These words struck like thunder, exploding in the deep Imperial Prison.
Jiang Huan, startled by Zhang Biao’s sudden outburst and naked threat, took half a step back, his face instantly becoming extremely unsightly.
He had not expected that even after the Emperor had gone to such lengths, Zhang Biao would still dare to be so arrogant, even threatening the Emperor in return.
“Zhang Biao—!”
Jiang Huan shouted sternly, “You are presumptuous!”
“Presumptuous?”
Zhang Biao laughed heartily, his laughter filled with sorrow and exhilaration:
“I am a dying man, what fear do I have of being presumptuous? Jiang Huan, you had better deliver my words to Old Zhu, word for word!”
He restrained his laughter, his eyes becoming cold and profound, as if they could pierce through everything:
“Tell him to stop playing these superficial tricks.”
“Either, show the boldness and ruthlessness befitting an Emperor, tear open the sky, let what should be seen come to light, and let those who should die, die!”
“Or…”
Zhang Biao paused, his tone carrying a deadly calm:
“Then wait and see how I, this ‘madman,’ will, in my own way, perform this final act, one hundred times more spectacularly than he imagines!”
Having said this, he no longer looked at Jiang Huan and walked back to the corner, sat down again, and closed his eyes, as if nothing had happened.
Jiang Huan was left standing there, his face ashen, his chest heaving violently, unable to calm down for a long time.
He knew that Zhang Biao was not bluffing.
This madman was truly capable of doing something even crazier!
And how furious the Emperor would be upon hearing this ‘reply’…
Jiang Huan dared not think further and could only leave the Imperial Prison with a heavy and uneasy heart.
Because after so many visits to the Imperial Prison, he had vaguely come to understand one thing: the person Zhang Biao wanted to deal with, from beginning to end, was only Zhu Chongba.
Or rather, the person Zhang Biao wanted to communicate with was only Zhu Yuanzhang.
Therefore, he had to report back to the Emperor, who was equally stubborn and ruthless, about this completely collapsed ‘transaction.’
Meanwhile, in the prison cell, Zhang Biao listened to Jiang Huan’s receding footsteps, and a cold smile silently formed on his lips.
As the saying goes, it is easy to break a mountain thief, but difficult to break a thief in one’s heart.
Old Zhu! Only one step left! Let me see how deep, and how cruelly unfeeling, the Hongwu Great Emperor’s love for his son is.
Otherwise, I will have to take matters into my own hands…
…
Meanwhile, at Xiao Mausoleum Si Guo Yuan.
“Damn it! How long are you going to keep this prince locked up?!”
“I said! I didn’t do anything! Father, why don’t you believe me?”
Cursing, Zhu Shuang rushed towards the Imperial Guards guarding the entrance, roaring, “This prince wants to see His Imperial Father! Wants to see my dad! Hurry up and inform him!”
“Your Highness Prince Qin, without an imperial edict from His Majesty, you cannot request an audience!” an Imperial Guard coldly reminded him.
“Bang—!”
Zhu Shuang kicked him, enraged, “What do you think you are?! Just a dog under Jiang Huan? How dare you be presumptuous before this prince? How dare you speak of my Imperial Father’s decree!”
As he spoke, he glared at the other Imperial Guards, “Where is Jiang Huan?! This prince wants to see him! Go find Jiang Huan quickly!”
The Imperial Guard who was kicked in the abdomen painfully got up from the ground, his face grimly staring at Zhu Shuang, still speaking coldly,
“Without the Emperor’s command, no one can see Your Highness Prince Qin; you can only reflect on your faults within Si Guo Yuan!”
“Reflect on your mother’s faults!”
Zhu Shuang, annoyed, kicked over a stool and was about to continue venting his anger.
Just then, the voice of an Edict Announcing Eunuch suddenly rang out, “His Imperial Majesty has an edict: Summon Prince Qin Zhu Shuang to Fengxian Hall to have an audience immediately!”
Rumble!
Upon hearing the eunuch’s sharp pronouncement of the edict, Zhu Shuang was struck as if by lightning. He froze in place, as if immobilized.
“Feng… Fengxian Hall? Before Elder Brother’s spirit tablet?”
He repeated in a daze, his raging anger instantly replaced by immense fear, the color draining from his face at a visible rate.
Even if he were more foolish, he would know what it meant to be summoned by his father in such a place.
This was not a simple questioning; it was an interrogation!
It was his father demanding a confrontation with him before the ancestors!
“Imperial Father… how could Imperial Father…”
His legs went weak, and he almost collapsed, but was quickly supported by a nearby Imperial Guard.
Then he heard the Imperial Guard who had been kicked earlier, sneer and step forward, “Your Highness Prince Qin, didn’t you want to see His Majesty? We will ‘escort’ you there now!”
“I”
Zhu Shuang opened his mouth, wanting to speak but hesitating.
His previous arrogance had completely vanished, leaving only a quivering like a sieve.
His mind frantically replayed the misdeeds he had committed in Shaanxi, especially those few times he had presented “specialties” to his elder brother Zhu Biao. Could there really have been something inappropriate mixed in? Or was it Third Prince or Fourth Prince framing me?
Meanwhile, in Da Ben Tang.
Zhu Gang’s finger, which was turning a page, trembled violently upon hearing the edict, tearing a small slit in the page.
He slowly raised his head. His expression remained calm and placid, but his pupils contracted slightly.
“This son… obeys the imperial edict.”
He responded with a steady voice and even tidied his robes.
However, beneath his lowered eyelids, his thoughts were racing.
Fengxian Hall… spirit tablet… it has indeed come to this.
He knew that the greatest test had arrived.
His father’s suspicion had reached its peak.
He had to be extremely cautious; every word, every expression, could lead to eternal damnation.
He quickly decided on his strategy.
Show weakness, gain sympathy, and skillfully divert any suspicion that might point to him towards “unintentionality” or “being misled,” especially… towards that hot-tempered Second Prince.
As for the old Prince Zhou’s Mansion.
Upon hearing the words “Fengxian Hall,” Zhu Su collapsed to the ground with a “thump.” Tears and snot instantly streamed down his face, and he cried incoherently,
“I won’t go! I won’t go! Imperial Father… is Imperial Father going to kill me? I didn’t harm Elder Brother! I really didn’t harm Elder Brother!”
He was almost dragged and half-carried out by the Imperial Guards guarding him, his entire being like a lost soul.
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