Because the qilin ate millet bean cakes, Emperor Yongle released it at Xiaoling—since more than two thousand native local deer there also ate the same food. Being able to eat from the same pot made them family, which was convenient for feeding.
Among the local deer herd, the qilin stood out like a crane among chickens, proud as a king, disdaining to compete with the deer for food. Relying on the advantage of its long neck, it monopolized all the tender leaves from treetops throughout Xiaoling.
Since Mu Chun had to remain anonymous, he couldn’t go to Exit 3 of Metro Line 2 to observe the qilin, which made his heart itch. Hu Shanwei, the husband-doting maniac, used her official position for personal gain and opened convenient doors. Mu Chun was able to use her authorization to go to Xiaoling to see the qilin.
Mu Chun went to Xiaoling to “absorb” the qilin’s essence, marveling at this “auspicious omen’s” divine martial aura.
Mu Chun displayed his old skills as the “Devil Incarnate,” climbing like a monkey to the center of a tree and attempting to jump onto the qilin’s back. In life, riding a qilin once would be worth bragging about for a lifetime.
The Kunlun slave specially assigned to care for the qilin wore Ming robes and spoke broken Ming language: “Sir, qilin has wild temperament, cannot ride.”
“Wild temperament can be trained—wild horses are all trained this way.” Light as a swallow, Mu Chun leaped and sat on the qilin’s back, tightly hugging its chimney-like long neck.
The startled qilin stopped eating tender tree leaves and ran on its long legs, trying to shake off the person on its back.
Mu Chun clung to the deer’s neck like a medicinal plaster, shameless and refusing to let go, truly showing the same determination he’d once used pursuing Hu Shanwei.
However, the qilin wasn’t as easy to pursue as Hu Shanwei. Hu Shanwei had been verbally resistant but physically honest—cold and reserved during the day but experiencing various indescribable dreams at night. But the qilin didn’t care about Mu Chun’s life or death and only wanted to shake him off quickly, without any tender feelings.
Seeing it couldn’t shake him off, the qilin began ramming trees, like old men exercising in the park. Its massive body crashed toward large trees with earth-shaking impact. The Kunlun slave was horrified, his dark face looking like a printer running out of ink cartridges. Mu Chun had no choice but to release his grip, grab the tree branches overhead, and climb into the tree like an ape, changing positions.
Seeing this, the qilin sneered coldly—you too have such days! It continued swinging its chimney-like neck to ram the tree, trying to knock Mu Chun down and then trample him to pieces with its long legs.
I’m an officially certified auspicious omen—why should I fear a Devil Incarnate like you?
The Kunlun slave came to the rescue, holding up a piece of millet bean cake to lure it away.
For the sake of food, the auspicious omen followed the Kunlun slave away. The defeated Devil King Mu Chun climbed down from the tree, picked up a millet bean cake from the ground, sniffed it—it smelled quite fragrant. He blew off the dust from the cake and sat under the tree eating it.
Watching from a distance, Zhu Zhanji thought he’d finally found the right person. With Mu Chun’s rogue style, he’d fit seamlessly with his twenty-eight thousand youth army. One thing conquers another—this rabble needed someone like the Devil Incarnate Mu Chun to suppress them.
In the blazing July summer heat, Zhu Zhanji brought a pot of sour plum soup mixed with ice and handed it to Mu Chun, who was competing with the qilin for food under the tree. “Godfather must be thirsty.”
Mu Chun was choking a bit and gulped down several mouthfuls of the sour plum soup, burping comfortably. “Keep the sour plum soup, take back that ‘godfather’—you’re the Crown Prince’s Grandson now, I can’t accept such address.”
Having a favor to ask, Zhu Zhanji said shamelessly, “Once a godfather, always a godfather. How could that change just because the godson became heir apparent?”
Having raised him from age two to eight, Mu Chun understood the little guy’s crooked thinking too well. “What do you want? Speak directly, or I’m leaving.”
Like father, like daughter—A’Lei’s straightforward personality was just like Mu Chun’s.
Zhu Zhanji explained the difficulty of training the youth army: “…I heard Godfather once subdued Jiangxi bandits and Zhouzhi mountain brigands, even cultivating bandit leader Chen Xuan into Ming’s Earl Pingjiang. Earl Pingjiang has managed Ming’s grain transport for years and is also a great contributor to clearing the canals, skilled in water management.”
The flattery was quite enjoyable. Mu Chun waved his hand. “Ha, a hero doesn’t boast of past glories. Chen Xuan’s later success was mainly his own effort, nothing to do with me.”
Zhu Zhanji continued flattering: “And there was the Yingyang Guard—all pampered sons, but after a few months under Godfather’s training, they were completely transformed and displayed our military might during Great Ancestor’s grand review. Godfather was only seventeen then—truly a young hero.”
Hearing this, Mu Chun became spirited. “Everything comes down to prescribing the right medicine. If they’re rogues, you must be more roguish. If they’re shameless, you must be more shameless. If they don’t obey, find various ways to torment them. Good soldiers come from strict discipline, but when it’s time to reward, never be stingy—reward generously so they know following you means having meat to eat and fortune to enjoy.”
Zhu Zhanji seized the opportunity to invite Mu Chun: “Zhu Zhanhe and I only know theory from books. Please come out of retirement today and guide us from behind the scenes so the youth army can mature quickly.”
Mu Chun refused: “I won’t meddle in you young people’s affairs. Besides, I’ve been dead for fifteen years.”
Zhu Zhanji said: “Godfather is fifty this year, and your appearance is different from before. If you grow a beard, even fewer people would recognize you. Besides, Godfather would only guide Zhu Zhanhe and me from behind the scenes without showing yourself publicly.”
“Godfather, with all your abilities, you personally established the new Yunnan. Even during these fifteen years of feigned death, you helped His Majesty ascend the throne, end civil war, and twice campaign in Jiaozhi to protect the borders. You’ve never stopped using your talents. Having accomplished these great deeds, training the youth army is just a small matter that certainly won’t stump Godfather.”
Mu Chun was recovering from his serious illness and had been resting for a year. Recently, he was indeed bored to the point of pain. Not only did Hu Shanwei leave early and return late, but even A’Lei went in and out of the palace daily with her sister to make Emperor Yongle’s custom clocks. He was so bored he came to Xiaoling to harass the qilin, and his heart was indeed itching.
Zhu Zhanji pressed his advantage: “Godfather, I truly have no other options and can only shamelessly ask for your help. The youth army is currently the capital’s laughingstock, with so many people mocking and pointing fingers behind our backs. His Majesty gave me one year, and now two months have passed with the youth army in chaos like a duck pen. Besides Godfather, no one can control them.”
After all, this was someone he’d personally raised. Mu Chun felt inclined to help and thought it over: “My words are useless—I must first ask the family (wife).”
Zhu Zhanji knew his godfather listened to Palace Superintendent Hu. Being clever, he said: “Whatever the result, I thank Godfather. I’ll keep today’s events secret for Godfather’s lifetime.”
“What events?” Mu Chun was puzzled.
Zhu Zhanji pointed at the half piece of millet bean cake in Mu Chun’s hand: “Godfather forcing himself to climb trees and ride the qilin while still recovering from serious illness. If Palace Superintendent Hu knew, she’d certainly worry about Godfather.”
Not just worry, but also a thorough scolding, banishment from the bedroom to sleep in the study for half a month, and old grievances that must be rehashed with every argument.
This godson was truly thoughtful.
Returning home, Mu Chun explained Zhu Zhanji’s request and asked for his household leader’s opinion.
Hu Shanwei sat in the courtyard’s gauze curtain pavilion enjoying the cool air, eating watermelon, with Mu Chun fanning her—quite comfortable.
From Mu Chun’s attentive attitude, she could see he really wanted to deal with the infamous youth army. This task was interesting and challenging for him.
The husband-doting maniac Hu Shanwei nodded: “However, for safety’s sake, you need to disguise yourself.”
Three days later, the youth army got a new instructor. This person was somewhat thin, with a terrible scar running from his left forehead to his right chin like a black centipede crawling across his face.
His left eye wore a black eyepatch, suggesting how dangerous that blade had been—it destroyed his left eye and nearly split his face in half.
When the new instructor arrived, he was like a tiger entering a flock of geese. He divided the twenty-eight thousand youth army into units of a hundred, practicing martial arts during the day and drawing lots at dusk to determine opponents for platform fights. Winners got to eat and sleep; losers got no food and had to wash dishes and clean latrines.
The rules were simple and brutal—survival of the fittest, which even illiterate people understood. Those who couldn’t stand it were given travel money to leave—absolutely no forced retention—while recruitment offices continuously added new soldiers.
There were cultural classes daily, but they didn’t teach classical literature. They just posted the hundred-man unit names on walls and had everyone recite them together with their centurions morning and evening. After a month, even a donkey could recognize these characters.
One year later.
In the fourteenth year of Yongle’s reign, Emperor Yongle reviewed the youth army.
The youth army displayed clear banners and disciplined movements. Individual skills like mounted archery and combat showed some gap compared to regular troops, but not significantly.
Emperor Yongle was very satisfied and had the youth army take turns garrisoning the front half of the imperial palace for patrol, beginning to fulfill the Imperial Front Guard’s responsibilities.
When this group, still carrying mud from their legs and marketplace atmosphere, entered the imperial palace, they were immediately awed by the towering walls and blinding glazed tiles.
Their ambitions were ignited—every one wanted to stay here rather than leave.
Mu Chun felt he’d completed his mission and requested dismissal from Zhu Zhanji: “They now have military spirit. From here on, standard military training methods will suffice—I needn’t continue administering strong medicine. If Ming has any bandit suppression, pirate elimination, or other small-scale military operations, Your Highness can take them to test their mettle. Soldiers who haven’t truly seen blood aren’t good soldiers—no amount of drilling is useful.”
Zhu Zhanji was infinitely grateful: “Many thanks for Godfather’s guidance.”
Zhu Zhanhe rushed over to hug Mu Chun, unwilling to let him go: “Stay another half year, all right? If not, one month?”
Mu Chun smiled: “Young birds need freedom to fly. The rest depends on yourselves. If I continue helping, I’ll only harm you. You’re all dragon sons and grandsons with your own abilities—don’t rely too much on me.”
Having satisfied his addiction to training new recruits, Mu Chun didn’t want to continue. When the job was done, he would depart like a Buddha, hiding his identity deeply.
While Mu Chun was finished, A’Lei’s custom ship clock continued—client daddy Emperor Yongle’s requirements were too high.
A’Lei looked up from a pile of blueprints, feeling her eyes were about to blur. She removed her glasses, rubbed her somewhat sore nose bridge, and casually walked outside to clear her head.
She saw Hu Shanwei seeing off more than ten female officials: “…Thank you all for your hard work on this trip. Strict oversight, and when you return I’ll certainly request credit and rewards for everyone.”
The female officials agreed and departed the palace by carriage.
A’Lei was curious: “Sister, where are they going?”
Hu Shanwei said: “To various vassal princes’ residences, of course. You’re busy making clocks all day, deaf to outside affairs. His Majesty has decreed the selection of talented women from various regions for the palace.”
A’Lei thought of the two embracing figures on the ship clock: “His Majesty… wants to select new consorts?”
That wasn’t right—Emperor Yongle could practically be called sexually abstemious.
Hu Shanwei said: “Not for himself, but for others. The Crown Prince’s Grandson is sixteen now and needs a Crown Prince’s Grandson Consort selected. Other imperial grandsons are also reaching marriageable age and need their marriages arranged. Great Ancestor established the rule of selecting beauties from among the people and forming marriages with commoners, so the palace is sending female officials to oversee preliminary selections at various vassal residences.”