Despite his young age, Zhu Zhanhe was quite cunning. Knowing his father would search the world for him, he had his milk brother buy a girl to pose as his wife, disguising them as a family of three – a young couple with their plump daughter traveling to Yunnan to seek relatives.

Along the way, guards at various water and land checkpoints only looked for the five-year-old boy traveling with loyal servants described in their secret documents. They never imagined Zhu Zhanhe had manipulated both the number of companions and gender, successfully bluffing his way through every checkpoint and miraculously reaching Yunnan.

Despite his tender years, everything outside was fascinating to Zhu Zhanhe. Previously, he had only traveled from Beijing to Nanjing. Now he realized how vast the Ming territory truly was. Without this secret escape, even as Prince Han’s heir apparent, he would have been a frog at the bottom of a well.

No wonder eldest cousin Zhu Zhanji always appeared so mysteriously profound – he had truly seen the wide world. Zhu Zhanhe felt even more fortunate to have escaped.

Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu searched everywhere along the route but couldn’t find his son, so he simply went to Kunming’s Prince Mu’s mansion to “wait by the tree stump for his child” – locals simply called it the Mu mansion, named after the first generation family leader Mu Ying’s posthumous enfeoffment as Prince Zhaojing and burial with princely rites. Like his maternal grandfather Duke Zhongshan Xu Da, the Wei Duke’s mansion was also called Duke Zhongshan’s mansion. Unfortunately, eldest maternal uncle Xu Huizu’s blind loyalty led to the Wei Duke title being stripped, still unrestored.

Arriving in Yunnan, Zhu Gaoxu discovered this was a treasure land – guarding the southwestern gateway with fertile soil, abundant products, fierce folk customs, and rich gold, silver, and copper mining resources. Reaching Kunming, he found this city’s prosperity rivaled Suzhou and Hangzhou, forming its own complete world. The Mu mansion here was practically an independent kingdom.

Controlling the Mu mansion meant controlling Ming’s southwest. Recalling how his father emperor had stabilized Duke Qianguo Mu Sheng during the Jingnan Campaign, preventing him from leading troops to Nanjing for imperial rescue, allowing Yan forces to enter the capital unobstructed.

Zhu Gaoxu’s Yunnan journey opened doors to a new world, giving him fresh strategic ideas for the future, with eldest son Zhu Zhanhe as the most crucial chess piece…

Time passed from Dragon Boat Festival to scorching summer with changeable weather. Just as they were about to enter Kunming city, sudden thunder and torrential rain struck, even umbrellas blown away by demon winds. The girl playing the mother role left with her indenture contract. The “father and daughter” saw a corner of roof eaves in the distance and ran frantically seeking shelter.

Dark clouds blocked the sun like a dog devouring it, instantly pitch-black with hands invisible before faces, roads unclear. Only lightning flashes illuminated their path as they charged toward that large courtyard.

Finally reaching the eaves, a thunderclap crashed followed by lightning. Just as the milk brother was about to knock, Zhu Zhanhe pointed at two white lanterns overhead: “This family is holding a funeral.”

The white lanterns bore the character “Sacrifice.”

Lightning and thunder, demon winds, the sudden appearance of a large mansion, white lanterns… everything combined made Zhu Zhanhe, who had read many market novels, think of ghost houses – this mansion was probably a tomb.

The milk brother was accustomed to his young master’s wild imagination from his adolescent syndrome, preferring not to take risks. But Zhu Zhanhe used the sage book covers hiding market ghost story novels he had purchased as leverage, threatening to either take him along (promising future intercession and continued employment) or expose everything, coldly watching father king and princess consort expel him from Prince Han’s mansion.

The milk brother had no choice but to comply. Now soaked by cold rain with even an adult feeling bone-chilling cold, worried about the young master catching cold, he ignored Zhu Zhanhe’s ghost house warnings and knocked on the door.

The gatekeeper, seeing the little girl trembling from cold (or fear), took pity and let the “siblings” into the gatehouse teahouse to wait out the rain.

The milk brother thanked them and gave tips. Soon the gatekeeper brought clean clothes: “Our master sent these. Change quickly to avoid catching cold.”

The milk brother offered payment, but the gatekeeper refused: “Our old master just passed away. The family does good deeds daily to accumulate merit for him – how could we take your money?”

Observing the plump, doll-like Zhu Zhanhe: “These are our young miss’s new clothes. Being in mourning, she can’t wear bright silks. This little girl has a similar build – they should fit perfectly.”

Zhu Zhanhe politely bowed his thanks. The gatekeeper, finding him adorably plump and white, grabbed some fruits for him to eat.

After changing into dry clothes and sitting in a chair with the milk brother standing behind using a towel to dry his wet hair, the milk brother observed: “From the fabric quality, this family is either wealthy or noble.”

Zhu Zhanhe remained immersed in ghost house fantasies but was still greedy, offering a fruit to his milk brother, who shook his head: “You eat first.”

“You eat first – see if it’s made from cockroaches or rats,” Zhu Zhanhe said.

The milk brother “tested for poison,” quickly eating one: “It’s a fruit made with milk.”

Only then did Zhu Zhanhe devour all the fruits.

Rain continued falling. Kunming city gates closed – they couldn’t enter today. The gatekeeper arranged a guest room for them to leave tomorrow.

The milk brother was exhausted, snoring loudly as soon as his head hit the pillow. Zhu Zhanhe felt no sleepiness – children have abundant energy. He simply got up and pushed open the window. The rain had lightened, falling like fine threads without sound, but he could hear a chorus of frogs.

Besides frog sounds, he heard “rustling” gnawing noises. Zhu Zhanhe took a horn lantern to look – under the eaves was a wet, plump rabbit eating green grass.

Zhu Zhanhe was undoubtedly a mischievous child. He left the room, crept closer stealthily, lifted his wide skirt hem, and pounced. The rabbit heard the wind and tried to flee, running right into his skirt.

The rabbit thrashed violently inside his skirt. Zhu Zhanhe extended his chubby hands, stroking it: “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Rabbits are so cute – I won’t eat you. I just want you to play with me. What’s tasty about green grass? I have milk fruits in my room – fragrant and sweet.”

Carrying the rabbit in his skirt back to his room, he suddenly heard barking behind him. Turning around, he saw an old yellow dog charging at him!

Zhu Zhanhe reacted quickly, rolling on the ground to dodge the old dog’s sneak attack. The rabbit in his skirt escaped during the confusion. Zhu Zhanhe couldn’t worry about the rabbit and ran for his life. The old dog didn’t chase him but pursued the rabbit instead, pouncing and pinning it down.

“Old Yellow, you’re going to scare the rabbit sick.”

A little girl ran over, extracting the nearly heart-attack rabbit from under the old dog.

“Hey, you in front…” The little girl assessed Zhu Zhanhe’s height and build, adjusting her wording: “Big sister, are you hurt?”

“No.” Zhu Zhanhe stopped running, feeling a burning pain in his wrist. Looking down, he saw scraped skin on his wrist.

The little girl approached carrying the rabbit, examining him carefully: “Oh my, your face is scraped too, and your clothes are dirty. Come with me – I have medicine at home. But first we need to return the rabbit to its cage.”

Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu, accustomed to charging into battle and living alongside common soldiers, had raised his eldest son quite roughly. Zhu Zhanhe felt such minor injuries didn’t need bandaging, but curious about the rabbit cage, he followed along.

The little girl walked to a farm. From far away, a strange odor wafted over. Zhu Zhanhe covered his nose – the rabbit looked clean and cute, so why was its nest so dirty and smelly? Truly, you can’t judge a rabbit by its appearance.

The little girl put the white rabbit into an iron cage already containing a gray rabbit: “Little White’s door lock broke and it escaped. I had Old Yellow track its scent to chase it. Tonight you’ll sleep with Little Gray in one room. Tomorrow brother-in-law will fix the door lock, then you can move back. You two don’t fight.”

The little girl chattered away with the rabbits. Zhu Zhanhe, overwhelmed by the rabbit hutch’s stench, wouldn’t go closer but politely didn’t rush her.

Finally, when the little girl emerged, Zhu Zhanhe followed her through a chrysanthemum field to a high wall ahead – apparently where female family members lived. The little girl didn’t take him through the main gate but circled to a narrow opening in the rear wall. The old dog smoothly squeezed through – a doggy door.

“Follow me, keep quiet, don’t let anyone discover us,” the little girl said, expertly crawling through.

Zhu Zhanhe’s curiosity overcame his ghost mansion fears. Following through, he was instantly stunned – artificial mountains and flower gardens, pavilions and towers, exquisite and elegant – this was Jiangnan garden style.

Following the little girl through a window into a room with tall bookshelves reaching the ceiling and abundant books, the little girl covered the window with cloth and lit a lamp: “Wait here. I’ll get medicine and clothes.”

How could this little rascal Zhu Zhanhe stay put? With only one lonely lamp for company and faintly hearing intermittent voices, he felt afraid and followed the lamp toward where the little girl had disappeared, getting lost among numerous rooms and corridors.

Now he couldn’t even find the study.

Was this really a ghost house?

Just as Zhu Zhanhe buzzed around like a headless fly, a man appeared before him. Wearing coarse hemp mourning clothes, he grabbed Zhu Zhanhe: “You’re that injured little sister? I thought A’Lei had imagined another playmate.”

“Let me go!” Zhu Zhanhe struggled vigorously, but the man’s hands were like iron clamps, unmoving.

“Oh, facial injuries too. Little girls must be careful not to scar. I’ll take you to clean your wounds.” The man ignored his struggles: “Don’t be afraid. I’ve sent someone to call your father to pick you up.”

The man carried him to a brightly lit room. The little girl from before came over: “Big sister, it’s her! This little sister – I didn’t lie.”

Seeing the little girl, Zhu Zhanhe felt secure and stopped struggling.

A woman in heavy mourning took the little girl’s hand, half-kneeling to apply medicine to his face and wrist: “Your body is too dirty. Take a bath and change into clean clothes. You can’t get water on your injuries – keep your wounded hand raised while I help you wash.”

“I won’t bathe,” Zhu Zhanhe’s eyes darted around. “My father said not to let strangers bathe me.” Undressing would expose everything.

The woman smiled, not forcing him, wrapping the medicine and clean clothes in a bundle: “Take everything with you. You can’t let strangers bathe you, and you can’t run around with strange children either. Fortunately, you met us.”

Such a beautiful, plump little girl – if she’d encountered kidnappers, unthinkable consequences.

Zhu Zhanhe sighed in relief, took the bundle, and thanked them. Children from imperial families maintained proper etiquette everywhere, their bearing quite attractive.

The man watched Zhu Zhanhe’s retreating figure, feeling something was wrong. Just then, the milk brother arrived to collect this little ancestor. Seeing the milk brother’s appearance clearly, the man’s mind suddenly blazed like lightning: “Wait… are you going to Kunming’s Mu mansion?”

Kunming, Mu mansion.

Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu waited by the tree stump for three full days, finally receiving his self-delivered son.

Duke Qianguo Mu Sheng brought the Prince Han heir apparent, now changed to male clothing: “Yesterday’s storm – the heir apparent happened to shelter at an old friend’s estate in the suburbs. The rain washed off the milk brother’s facial disguise, and the friend recognized them, sending them over this morning.”

Mu Sheng returned the goods intact, fearing responsibility if anything happened to Prince Han’s heir apparent in Yunnan territory. He only hoped to send this little plague god away quickly.

Who knew Prince Han had no intention of taking his little rascal home, even winking at Zhu Zhanhe: “The riding and archery master you’ve been longing for stands before you – why not kneel and worship?”

Zhu Zhanhe half-knelt on the ground, clasping his hands: “Please teach me the three simultaneous arrows technique, Duke Qianguo. I’ll definitely practice hard without slacking.”

Prince Han went with the flow: “This child has made up his mind, crossing thousands of mountains and rivers to visit Duke Qianguo. Fortunately, our ancestors protected him – he arrived in Kunming safely. If I forcibly take him away, there’ll probably be a next time. Better to leave him in Kunming to study, returning after completion. This is the apprenticeship gift.”

Prince Han winked, and his subordinates quickly presented a substantial gift list – formal apprenticeship!

Prince Han had his own calculations. This fat piece of meat called Yunnan was truly tempting – he very much wanted to win over Mu Sheng. But as a prince, he couldn’t conveniently associate with frontier officials lest his father emperor become suspicious. However, having his grandson apprentice at such a young age would at most be considered youthful ignorance and willful mischief.

The older generation generally favored grandchildren over children – generational affection meant strictness with sons but tolerance with grandsons. Leaving his son in Kunming for a year or two would first establish master-disciple bonds between son and Mu Sheng, helping future great endeavors. Second, Prince Han would have opportunities to plant personnel and arrange informants in Kunming under the legitimate pretext of protecting and educating his son – perfectly justified, killing two birds with one stone.

Mu Sheng had received Ji Gang’s secret letter requiring him to maintain the deception, tacitly acknowledging that Crown Prince’s eldest son Zhu Zhanji had spent these five years under his protection. He quickly declined: “Absolutely not! This remote backwater would only delay the heir apparent’s studies. Previously, when outside turmoil made the Crown Prince’s eldest son shelter here, it was desperate necessity. Now with peaceful seas and clear rivers, the world at peace, the capital full of talent – please find another worthy teacher.”

Prince Han insisted on forcing the arrangement: “However Duke Qianguo taught the Crown Prince’s eldest son, teach him the same way. After the Crown Prince’s eldest son returned to the capital, his literary and military accomplishments were truly stunning – His Majesty praised him greatly. My son has dull qualifications – he need only learn half the Crown Prince’s eldest son’s abilities.”

Zhu Zhanhe quickly offered tea to his teacher. If Duke Qianguo didn’t drink, he wouldn’t get up.

Thus, Zhu Zhanhe forcibly remained in Kunming. Prince Han returned to the capital, reporting the matter to Emperor Yongle, who already knew the whole story through the Jinyiwei. With his second grandson safe, he was relieved. He also didn’t worry about his second grandson going astray given Mu Sheng’s capabilities and character. Moreover, with the Mu family’s hereditary garrison of Yunnan, Emperor Yongle hoped the Zhu family could grow closer to the Mu family.

After all, Emperor Yongle had exterminated Mu Sheng’s maternal grandfather Geng Bingwen’s entire family the previous year.

Of the entire Geng clan, only Mu Sheng’s mother, Duke Qianguo’s dowager Lady Geng, was specially pardoned by Emperor Yongle for being a married daughter.

There was no choice – who told Geng Bingwen to be Emperor Jianwen’s trusted minister? Moreover, Geng Bingwen refused to acknowledge Emperor Yongle’s legitimate claim to the throne. Emperor Yongle couldn’t possibly spare the Geng family.

Leaving his second grandson in Kunming could also ease relations with the Mu family… However, this wasn’t enough. The southwestern gateway was too important – he couldn’t let the Mu family dominate alone. He needed to send a reliable person to balance against the Mu family.

Emperor Yongle was currently implementing “Northern Prince Southern Transfer” political adjustments: after the dynastic change, imprisoned princes recalled to the capital had their titles and freedom restored and were preparing to return to their respective princely mansions with children and dependents.

Other princes in the central heartland could return home without problems, but what about the Hongwu reign princes guarding Ming’s nine border regions with strong troops and horses?

Letting them return to continue border defense meant returning their original military authority – otherwise, how could they defend? With love?

Emperor Yongle himself had seized the throne as a rebellious prince – he definitely didn’t want to release tigers back to mountains and repeat history.

So what to do? Emperor Yongle conceived the “Northern Prince Southern Transfer” solution: using princely mansion repairs as pretext, he first kept the nine border princes in the capital, treating them well with gifts of wealth and land, making them comfortably wait for renovated mansions.

Then, he modified the princes’ fiefs, transferring northern border princes to safe southern locations, thus justifying stripping princes of their armies.

Hence, Prince Han was relocated to Pingliang, Prince Shen to Luozhou, Prince Liao to Jingzhou, Prince Gu to Changsha, and the most powerful Prince Ning relocated to Nanchang.

No need to return to old princely mansions – the emperor had built brand new ones in prosperous Jiangnan! Surprising? Exciting? Fourth brother really loves you younger brothers!

Previously, princes guarded borders – now central appointee generals directly defended them, centralizing power under Emperor Yongle alone.

Prince Han leaving his son in Kunming still wasn’t enough for Emperor Yongle. Taking advantage of the “Northern Prince Southern Transfer” project, he transferred his book-writing younger brother Prince Zhou Zhu Shu’s fief from Kaifeng, Henan to Kunming, Yunnan, conveniently having second grandson Zhu Zhanhe move to Prince Zhou’s mansion for protection and care.

Prince Han had intended to use this to establish roots and plant chess pieces in Kunming, but Emperor Yongle intercepted midway, enfeoffing younger brother Prince Zhou to Yunnan, instantly “severing” Prince Han’s attempted Yunnan layout.

Prince Han felt somewhat afraid – was father emperor’s move coincidental or a warning?

Prince Han’s intestines turned green with regret: too clever for his own good, ultimately making wedding clothes for father emperor while losing his eldest son. Why did this child insist on running to Yunnan? Truly sabotaging his father!

Prince Han never reflected on why he named his eldest son Zhu Zhanhe – “he” means water pit. If not sabotaging you, who else?