A’Lei worked with counting rods, staying up all night using ink lines to draw blueprints. Hu Shanwei couldn’t endure it and fell asleep first. Mu Chun stood guard at the door, his eyes wide as copper bells.
It wasn’t until after the third watch that the blueprints were completed. A’Lei crawled into the warm bed and squeezed in to sleep with Hu Shanwei—it had been a long time since she’d slept with her sister.
Due to the cold, damp weather, sleeping on the floor wasn’t practical. Mu Chun used a painting desk as a bed, sleeping outside. Before he could even lie down, there came a knock at the door.
Mu Chun casually picked up a stone paperweight from the desk, his voice low: “Who is it?”
“It’s me.” Zhu Zhanhe carried two sets of bedding. “I saw the window still had light, figuring you weren’t asleep yet. I’ve come to bring Uncle some blankets.”
Oh, the community committee was delivering warmth to the elderly living alone.
A’Lei guarded against Zhu Zhanhe like a thief, but Zhu Zhanhe had no self-awareness of being a thief, repeatedly approaching and playing around the edges of Mu Chun’s boundaries.
Faced with Zhu Zhanhe’s sugar-coated bullets, Mu Chun opened the door but didn’t let him in, blocking the doorway as he accepted the blankets. “Thank you. It’s late—Your Highness please return.”
Accept the sugar coating, drive away the bullet. Pass through the forest without a single leaf touching you.
Zhu Zhanhe remained cheerful. “Uncle needn’t be polite. When I was in Yunnan before, I often went to Uncle’s house to freeload meals, sometimes even stayed overnight at Uncle’s place. Uncle always received me warmly.”
That was because it was dark and I was afraid something would happen to you on the road! I wouldn’t have been able to explain it!
Just as Mu Chun was about to close the door, Zhu Zhanhe placed a hand on the doorframe. Mu Chun had to stop—otherwise closing the door would crush this dragon grandson’s dragon claw.
Zhu Zhanhe smiled. “I almost forgot something—what do Uncle and Palace Supervisor Hu like to eat? I’ll buy some and bring it tomorrow morning.”
Mu Chun said, “No need to trouble Your Highness. Our family of three will eat out on the street tomorrow—they can buy whatever they want to eat.”
Zhu Zhanhe scratched his head. “You’re right. In cold weather, food gets cold when delivered, which hurts the stomach. Better to eat it while it’s hot.”
Zhu Zhanhe finally withdrew his dragon claw and left.
It rained all night.
The next day Hu Shanwei woke first—she was used to getting up early, having to clock in at the inner palace every day for work. A’Lei had slept too late last night and was talking in her sleep. She turned over and continued dreaming.
Hu Shanwei quietly got up. In the outer room, Mu Chun was curled up sleeping on the painting desk, his long legs having nowhere to rest. Once straightened, his entire lower leg would hang in the air.
Even in sleep, Mu Chun frowned—apparently he hadn’t slept well.
Hu Shanwei extended her hand, using her fingertip as an iron to smooth out Mu Chun’s thick eyebrows.
Mu Chun woke up and, knowing it was his wife, didn’t even open his eyes but grabbed his wife’s hand and held it to his chest.
“Your hand is cold—let me warm it for you.” Like a little dog, Mu Chun rubbed Hu Shanwei’s wrist with his stubbly face from the night before, asking, “Is it still raining outside? If it’s still raining, we can’t go hunting. The mountain paths will be slippery—we must be careful A’Lei doesn’t fall.”
Mu Chun had transferred all the regrets of not having a wonderful father in childhood to A’Lei. I didn’t have a wonderful father, so I’ll become someone else’s wonderful father.
Hu Shanwei looked outside the window. After a night of autumn wind and rain, the earth’s green had basically disappeared. The red maples were like fire—half hanging on branches, half piled under trees. When Mu Chun drowsily asked “is it still raining,” Hu Shanwei thought of Li Qingzhao’s “Like a Dream” and casually said, “Do you know, do you know? It should be red fat, green thin.”
Originally it was “green fat, red thin,” but now in deep autumn, it had become red fat, green thin.
Semi-illiterate Mu Chun didn’t understand the meaning and thought Hu Shanwei’s hand had touched his slightly loose belly. He immediately puffed out his chest and sucked in his stomach, saying, “Winter’s almost here—I’ve gained a little fat.”
Truly casting pearls before swine.
However, Hu Shanwei was used to playing the zither for this bovine Mu Chun to hear. She didn’t mind that the old ox couldn’t understand. Following the momentum, she grabbed Mu Chun’s slightly fatty belly. Mu Chun curled up like a shrimp to avoid it, but unfortunately, while his belly escaped disaster, a certain part fell into Hu Shanwei’s clutches.
Hu Shanwei grabbed and held it firmly.
Mu Chun lay on the painting desk like a piece of meat on the butcher’s block in the morning market for people to choose from—lean where you want lean, fat where you want fat. Take your pick freely—this thing most stirs lovesickness.
Dong dong dong!
The door sounded.
The married couple looked at each other.
Zhu Zhanhe’s voice came from outside the door: “Are you up? I’ve come to bring hot water for you to wash with.”
Mu Chun’s identity was confidential—sending someone else wasn’t safe, so Zhu Zhanhe personally made a trip.
The community committee was delivering warmth again.
Mu Chun quickly got up from the desk, rolled up the blanket with one hand, opened the door, handed the still-warm blanket back to Zhu Zhanhe, took a bucket of hot water, and whispered, “A’Lei hasn’t woken up yet—keep your voice down.”
Zhu Zhanhe nodded and walked away holding the blanket.
Hu Shanwei looked at the steaming bucket of water and whispered, “His Highness is thoughtful—be a bit nicer to him.”
Mu Chun poured the hot water into a basin, tested the temperature, and had his wife come wash her face first. “This kid has grown up and has bad intentions toward our A’Lei.”
Hu Shanwei was bending over to wash her face and nearly choked on the hot water upon hearing this. “What are you saying? He’s still so young.”
Daughter-protecting maniac Mu Chun said, “Better to wrongly kill a thousand than let one escape. I’d rather be a petty person once and judge His Highness’s intentions.”
Mu Chun carelessly wiped his face with the water his wife had used. A’Lei woke up. Hu Shanwei, who was combing her hair, said, “It’s still early—sleep a bit more.”
“I won’t sleep anymore.” A’Lei stretched and sat up. “Aren’t we going hunting today? Once we start playing, I won’t be tired.”
To save time, all three family members ate breakfast in the carriage. When they reached the suburbs at Ox Head Mountain, they changed to horses as mounts. Mu Chun filled his quiver with arrows, while A’Lei abandoned bow and arrows, carrying several Frankish flintlock muskets. She skillfully oiled the flintlocks, cleaned the long, narrow barrels, and polished them to a shine.
Of course, these were also things Eunuch Zheng He had brought back to the Great Ming from his voyages to the Western Seas. He had already sent a chest of such new weapons to the gunpowder factory for in-depth research (copying). The latest prototypes had been manufactured and were about to be delivered to the Divine Engine Battalion for trial use.
“Oh, nowadays fire guns don’t need match cords anymore.” Mu Chun curiously picked up the Frankish flintlock.
The Great Ming army currently used matchlock guns, about half a person’s height in total length. Each use required lighting an external fuse like setting off firecrackers. If encountering strong wind and heavy rain, matchlock guns could basically only be used as iron clubs—they simply couldn’t be lit.
A’Lei pointed to the trigger at the end. “Pull this mechanism—there are flints inside that collide and create friction, which can ignite the gunpowder in the gun.”
Mu Chun felt somewhat dejected. He had once been a general charging into battle, often bellowing “bring me my Frankish cannons.” Now, having retreated from the battlefield for just over two years, he was already unable to keep up with the Great Ming army’s advancing steps.
I’ve probably become an outdated old thing, just like the matchlock gun.
A’Lei handed him the flintlock. “If brother-in-law likes it, this flintlock is yours.”
Hearing this, Mu Chun immediately turned from sorrow to joy. This daughter wasn’t raised in vain—she knew how to care for her old father.
This was true warmth delivery. Mu Chun gripped the cold flintlock but felt warmth to his heart. He patted A’Lei’s head. “Such a good girl.”
Mu Chun decided that no matter how late it was in the future, he would still wait at home to eat dinner with A’Lei—at worst, he could eat a little something first to tide himself over.
Mu Chun used bow and arrows, A’Lei used the flintlock, and Hu Shanwei wasn’t skilled at mounted archery and brought no hunting equipment. Her joy came from following behind Mu Chun and A’Lei to collect the prey.
Mu Chun hadn’t touched bow and arrows for a long time and was a bit rusty—his first three arrows all missed. However, A’Lei, holding the flintlock and pulling the trigger with crackling sounds, got a fat rabbit.
Is Lian Po old—can he still shoot? For the first time in his life, Mu Chun began to doubt himself.
A’Lei and Hu Shanwei crouched on a boulder. “…Look through the small hole on top for aiming. Try closing one eye and opening the other. When aiming, don’t shake.”
A’Lei was teaching Hu Shanwei how to use the flintlock. The prey was a wild pheasant.
Hu Shanwei said, “It’s not that I want to shake—this gun is so heavy.”
A’Lei: “Then try not to shake as much as possible. Adjust your breathing. When you feel confident, fire.”
Bang!
The flintlock’s recoil was like a hard punch to Hu Shanwei’s left shoulder socket. This shot naturally missed, and the pheasant was scared into fleeing desperately.
Mu Chun nearby drew his bow and shot an arrow, hitting the ground—successfully hunting with the most primitive method.
“I’m done playing, done playing.” Hu Shanwei rubbed her shoulder. “If I keep playing, I’ll nearly play away my old life.”
Hu Shanwei was forty-seven years old this year—in this era, she was considered an “elderly person” with earth already halfway up to her waist.
A’Lei considerately massaged Hu Shanwei’s shoulder. “Sister isn’t old at all.”
At this moment, Mu Chun rode back to collect the pheasant. “Tonight we’ll stew this chicken to get revenge for your sister.”
“A gentleman’s revenge should be immediate—no need to wait until evening.” A’Lei pointed to the clear spring at the foot of the mountain. “Let’s roast our prey and eat it.”
Daughter-spoiling maniac Mu Chun naturally went along with A’Lei. The three went to the stream. Mu Chun carried the prey to gut and clean it, Hu Shanwei piled stones as a temporary stove, and A’Lei went into the woods to collect branches for a fire. The division of labor was clear and cooperation seamless—this was what they used to do frequently in Yunnan.
The atmosphere was relaxed and harmonious, like returning to the leisurely times of their secluded life in Kunming.
Having rained all night, it was hard to find suitable wood. A’Lei simply picked up oval-shaped pine cones from the ground—these contained oils and burned quite well.
As A’Lei gathered pine cones, a rustling sound suddenly came from behind her. A’Lei immediately became alert, worried about wild beasts. She took the flintlock from her back, quickly turned around, and aimed the muzzle.
“Don’t shoot—I’m on your side.” The person was actually Zhu Zhanhe.
A’Lei breathed a sigh of relief and lowered her gun. “Weren’t you going to the palace to hide from your father? How did you end up at Ox Head Mountain?”
Zhu Zhanhe familiarly helped gather pine cones and sighed. “I just left the tiger’s den to enter the wolf’s lair. I went to the palace and went to the Rouxian Palace where Imperial Grandmother’s coffin is kept. I happened to encounter the Crown Prince offering morning incense to Empress Ren Xiao and changing offerings. When he saw me arrive, the Crown Prince took my hand and chattered on and on—sometimes asking what books I’d been reading lately, sometimes saying the Emperor was on campaign and wondering about where they’d probably reached by now. Later he wanted me to stay in the palace for dinner.”
Zhu Zhanhe helplessly shrugged. “Big cousin brother went with the Emperor on campaign, so I had no one to talk to in the Eastern Palace. Chatting with adults like the Crown Prince is exhausting. I made an excuse saying Father and Mother were still waiting for me at the mansion and left the palace early.”
Going home was impossible—that would be jumping from the wolf’s lair to the tiger’s den. Zhu Zhanhe remembered Mu Chun mentioning they were going hunting at Ox Head Mountain last night, so he came here to find peace and quiet.
A’Lei sympathized deeply. “How did you know we were here?”
Zhu Zhanhe pointed at the flintlock A’Lei carried. “I followed the gunshots to find you.”
The two used their clothes to carry pine cones back to the stream. Mu Chun had already threaded the prey on wooden sticks and set up a roasting rack—everything was ready except the firewood.
Seeing the persistently haunting Zhu Zhanhe, Mu Chun’s smile disappeared.
Zhu Zhanhe piled the pine cones nearby and explained the situation. “…The Crown Prince has been talking much more than before lately—more than even my father.”
Hu Shanwei knew the Crown Prince was letting himself go and said, “Children shouldn’t gossip about adults behind their backs.”
The old Zhu family members all went to extremes. Imperial Grandson Zhu Zhanji was tight-lipped, saying nothing—his mouth was tighter than a river mussel’s.
Zhu Zhanhe, on the other hand, said everything, like flowing river water, endless and continuous.
Zhu Zhanhe patted his chest and stubbornly said, “Palace Supervisor Hu, I’m not small anymore.”
Having rarely come out to play, Hu Shanwei didn’t want to bring the undercurrents of palace struggles here. She deliberately changed the subject: “Yes, yes, yes, you’re not small. You’re a mature man. Can you help light the fire? I’m a bit hungry—when can we eat the fragrant roasted meat?”
Zhu Zhanhe then used a flint to start the fire, puffing out his cheeks to blow. The flames quickly spread. Pine cones were oily, highly flammable and explosive, making crackling sounds.
A’Lei sat by the fire cleaning her gun—if the barrel wasn’t clean, it could easily explode, and some unlucky people would have half their face blown off.
Hearing the noise from the pine cone fire, A’Lei felt unsafe. She casually grabbed Zhu Zhanhe by the back of his collar and pulled his head back. “Stay away from the fire—be careful sparks don’t hit your eyes.”
Mu Chun was sprinkling salt on the meat chunks. Seeing A’Lei caring for Zhu Zhanhe, her fingers even touching his neck, he immediately felt upset. The salt seemed to be scattered in his heart, bringing up all kinds of feelings.
“I’ll tend the fire.” Mu Chun unleashed tremendous strength, single-handedly lifting the kneeling Zhu Zhanhe away from the fire and setting him aside. “There aren’t enough pine cones—go to the woods and gather some more.”
Zhu Zhanhe touched his neck, not angry at all, laughing cheerfully as he went to gather pine cones.
You can’t hit someone who’s smiling. Seeing Zhu Zhanhe’s innocent and pure appearance, Mu Chun felt somewhat guilty, wondering if he was overthinking things. Zhu Zhanhe was someone he’d watched grow up—a simple big fellow without much cunning.
Mu Chun decided to give Zhu Zhanhe an extra piece of meat during the meal.
Everyone performed their duties, working hard for lunch, not knowing someone in the forest was secretly observing the four of them.
It was Prince Han, Zhu Gaoxu.
Speaking of Prince Han disciplining his son—with his father on campaign and no one to interfere with his son’s education, his words became harsher and he even used his hands, forcing Zhu Zhanhe to run away from home.
Zhu Zhanhe had been pulling this trick since age five. Prince Han was used to it. Princess Han felt sorry for her son and advised Prince Han: “He’s grown up now and wants face. With you hitting and scolding him, how can he bear it?”
Prince Han naturally said “loving mothers spoil many sons.” Princess Han wouldn’t have it and retorted, “Your Highness always compares Zhanhe to Zhu Zhanji from the Eastern Palace, but has the Crown Prince ever hit or scolded Zhu Zhanji? Zhu Zhanji is still outstanding in everything, surpassing Zhanhe. If the son isn’t taught properly, it’s the father’s fault. Your Highness should reflect on your wrong educational methods.”
Prince Han was so angry he was speechless. He sulked in the mansion and ordered the steward not to look for Zhu Zhanhe that night—let him go as he pleased.
The next day, palace informants reported that Zhu Zhanhe had entered the palace and encountered the Crown Prince at Rouxian Palace. The Crown Prince had spoken with him at length, and so on.
Whenever it involved the Crown Prince, Prince Han became energetic. He wanted to call his son over to recount word for word what the Crown Prince had said to him. So he sent people to wait for his son at the palace gates and follow Zhu Zhanhe to Ox Head Mountain.
Prince Han only wanted to find his son but didn’t expect to unexpectedly encounter the Hu sisters—and a mysterious man.
Due to the distance, the face seen through the telescope was very blurry, and Prince Han couldn’t clearly identify who this man was.
However, the man was very intimate with Palace Supervisor Hu. The man was lighting fires and blowing on them, his face covered with dust and ash from the smoke. When he went to the stream to wash his face, Palace Supervisor Hu took a handkerchief, dipped it in stream water, and wiped the man’s face.
After washing clean, the man held Palace Supervisor Hu’s hands and rubbed them, even placing her hands at his neck to warm them!
This scene was too shocking. The eavesdropping Prince Han could hardly believe his eyes. He rubbed them and continued looking. This look was extraordinary—he saw the man kissing Palace Supervisor Hu’s cheek!
So Palace Supervisor Hu’s scandals weren’t groundless rumors. A female official, instead of staying peacefully in the palace, entered and left the court daily. It turned out that going home to care for her sister was false—meeting with men was the truth.
Who was this wild man that Palace Supervisor Hu kept in a “golden house”?
Moreover, from his son’s behavior, his son should know this man.