On the western shore of Daming Lake stood a stone boat called the Penglai Vessel. Though its name was rather plain, the boat’s deck was spacious, surrounded by fragrant lotus and water chestnuts on all sides. Along the shore stood a garden of Taihu rocks, making it an ideal spot for scholarly gatherings. At this hour, just before noon, there were few visitors near the stone boat. A strange “river dolphin” swam close to the vessel, emerging from a patch of duckweed near its side. First appeared a wooden wheel, then an overturned cart bottom, which, when flipped, revealed five soaking-wet people.
The area was full of craggy artificial mountains, perfect for concealment. They quickly left the lake area, crossed through a fence, and arrived at the back courtyard of an old temple on Seven Saints Street west of the lake. The temple belonged to the Quanzhen Sect and enshrined the Seven Quanzhen Masters, hence the street’s name. When a Taoist priest from the temple came to investigate the noise, he was suddenly seized by the neck by a fierce-looking man covered in wounds and rendered unconscious.
The large man then barred the temple’s main door from the inside and extinguished the incense before the Seven Saints. Meanwhile, the others slipped into the priests’ living quarters.
Wu Dingyuan carefully placed Tang Sai’er on a bamboo couch and examined her injuries. The old woman’s facial wrinkles sagged layer upon layer, her spirit visibly declining by the moment, her lips turning purple. How ironic that the Buddhist Mother, viewed by countless followers as possessing boundless dharma power, now lay dying in a Taoist temple, felled by an unremarkable arrow.
Liang Xingfu kept watch at the temple entrance as usual, while Wu Yulu was sent to boil some water. Tang Sai’er had slightly regained consciousness, her lips moving weakly. Wu Dingyuan knew she was about to give her final instructions, so he stepped aside and gestured to Zuo Yehe across from him.
Zuo Yehe approached the couch, and Wu Dingyuan couldn’t help but stare. Her previously heavy makeup had been washed away in Daming Lake, revealing her natural face. This ruthless woman who had thrown Nanjing into chaos was quite young, her features showing a childlike innocence, not much older than Wu Yulu.
She bent down to bring her ear close as Tang Sai’er struggled to raise her head, each word coming with great difficulty, interrupted by occasional coughs. As Zuo Yehe listened, she dug something red and sticky from her waist and put it in her mouth. It was the jujube powder they had bought by the lake that morning, now smeared all over her belt after being soaked. She didn’t mind at all, persistently scraping every bit from the folds.
For Zuo Yehe, eating seemed to be of paramount importance, something she wouldn’t stop even while receiving the Buddhist Mother’s last words.
Finally, Tang Sai’er exhaled deeply, as if expending her last strength, and lay back down. Zuo Yehe straightened up, her eyes somewhat blank, and said to Wu Dingyuan, “The Buddhist Mother has some final instructions for you.”
Wu Dingyuan raised his eyelids impatiently, “The entire Jinan Guard is hunting down your White Lotus Sect. Shouldn’t you be dealing with that mess instead of talking to an outsider?”
Zuo Yehe swiftly pulled a gleaming short dagger from her boot. Wu Dingyuan’s muscles instinctively tensed, but she turned the handle around and presented it to him: “The Buddhist Mother said that the White Lotus Sect’s involvement in the Two Capitals plot was her doing, and your foster father Wu Buping’s death was also her sin. You may use this dagger to end her life and settle this karmic debt. We, her dharma-protecting disciples, will not interfere.”
Wu Dingyuan frowned slightly, narrowing his eyes. It was unexpected that the Buddhist Mother’s final thoughts would be of such a matter.
Tang Sai’er had previously expressed hope to use his identity as Tie Xuan’s son to gather strength for the White Lotus Sect in Shandong. But the biggest obstacle to this cooperation was Wu Buping’s death. Now she actively offered her life as compensation to resolve this grievance, clearly planning for the sect’s future.
This Buddhist Mother was truly remarkable, maximizing the benefit of her death even in her final moments. Wu Dingyuan suddenly found himself admiring this unremarkable old woman. The White Lotus Sect’s dominance in Shandong for so many years was no accident.
Seeing his silence, Zuo Yehe pushed the dagger forward again. Wu Dingyuan took it with a cold smile, flourishing it in his hand: “Offering charity rice only when it’s spoiled by worms – this favor comes a bit too conveniently. She’s about to die anyway, why think of repayment now?”
Without hesitation, Zuo Yehe stepped forward and thrust out her chest: “If you feel the Buddhist Mother’s life alone is insufficient, you may also take my heart and liver to honor your foster father.”
“You think I won’t?” Wu Dingyuan suddenly thrust the dagger forward, its tip cutting into Zuo Yehe’s collar, severing the ties. But she didn’t flinch at all, her gaze unwavering, clearly prepared to die.
The blade stopped just before piercing her skin. Wu Dingyuan gripped the handle, unsure why he couldn’t strike – perhaps because he hadn’t yet learned the truth about his origins, perhaps fearing some White Lotus trap, or perhaps just because of that smear of jujube paste at the corner of her mouth…
Wu Dingyuan withdrew the blade slightly: “I don’t understand why you’re all so obsessed. What exactly do you want from me?”
Zuo Yehe stared at him: “The Buddhist Mother originally planned to invite you to be our sect’s Great Dharma Protector. But with today’s sudden catastrophe, she has just passed down instructions for you to inherit her mantle and lead the White Lotus Holy Sect.”
Wu Dingyuan’s eyebrows shot up as if he’d heard a great joke. With both Great Dharma Protectors present, the Buddhist Mother wanted to pass leadership to an outsider. Moreover, an outsider who harbored a deep hatred for the White Lotus Sect – could anything be more absurd? “I thought only Liang Xingfu was mad, but you’re all insane, every last one of you!” he muttered.
“Who would join the White Lotus Sect if not driven mad by this world?” Zuo Yehe licked the residue from her lips and smiled, the movement revealing two faint lines at the corners of her eyes.
“What are you after?”
“To survive, nothing more.”
“Survive?” Wu Dingyuan hesitated over these words.
Zuo Yehe said, “The White Lotus Sect is just a broken temple where desperate people huddle together for warmth. What we struggle for, what we yearn for, has never changed since the Buddhist Mother first expanded the sect – to survive, simply to survive. When she rose in Qingzhou years ago, it was to survive; when we risked participating in the Two Capitals plot, it was to survive; passing the mantle to you, using your identity as Tie Xuan’s son to lead the White Lotus Sect out of trouble, it’s all to survive.”
“Hmph, fine words, but in the end it’s all about her power!”
Hearing this, Zuo Yehe raised her willow-like eyebrows, revealing a bitter smile: “Young Master Tie, the Buddhist Mother… she… she has long suffered from heart disease, growing worse in recent years. No matter how many doctors we consulted, they all said it was incurable, giving her only a year or two. What use would power be to her?”
Wu Dingyuan finally understood why she had collapsed clutching her chest though the arrow hadn’t struck her – she had an existing condition that couldn’t handle the shock.
“The Buddhist Mother knew her time was short, which is why she risked everything to secure a path of survival for the White Lotus Sect. The Two Capitals plot and you – none of it was for herself, but for the countless followers.”
Wu Dingyuan recalled the Buddhist Mother’s earlier meeting with him at the White Robe Nunnery, where she had rambled on with surprising candor, both frank and abrupt. He had wondered then if she was simply loose-tongued, but now he realized she had been grooming a successor.
“I don’t believe in any of your nonsense, why should I become your leader!” Wu Dingyuan muttered.
Zuo Yehe smiled slightly: “Didn’t the Buddhist Mother tell you yesterday? Throughout history, sect leaders must never be too devout in the teachings. Even she didn’t believe in them.”
“Then wouldn’t you be better suited for the position? You wouldn’t even need to change the title of Buddhist Lord and Lady.”
Zuo Yehe shook her head: “I am merely a Dharma Protector, suited only to assist. To gather respect, settle people’s hearts, and intimidate troublemakers, only Tie Xuan’s son will do.”
Wu Dingyuan sneered, “This sweep of Daming Lake by the Jinan Guard was probably ordered by that noble person through the Shandong Military Commissioner. Putting me at the forefront is just using me as a shield. Why dress it up so grandly?”
“Yes.” She admitted quite readily. “After breaking with the noble person, the White Lotus Sect faces extremely difficult times ahead. We need someone to lead the followers.”
“Fine, let me ask you this: if I take over from the Buddhist Mother, will you all obey everything I say? If I order you to help the Crown Prince now, would you?”
“Whatever the sect leader commands, this servant will respectfully obey,” Zuo Yehe answered without hesitation.
“Even if I ordered you to kill Liang Xingfu?” Wu Dingyuan glanced outside the room, wondering how that madman would react upon learning of the Buddhist Mother’s final wishes – no one would be able to stop him if he went berserk.
“No problem, I can guarantee that,” Zuo Yehe said calmly.
Wu Dingyuan didn’t believe this, but he was curious. What gave her such confidence that she could prevent Liang Xingfu from rebelling after the Buddhist Mother’s death? There must be more to this story. But Wu Dingyuan had had enough of these stories – each truth pushed his emotions closer to the breaking point.
Then Zuo Yehe added: “The Buddhist Mother naming you as successor isn’t about having you accomplish her grand plans. Everyone is different – you can act as you see fit, as long as you help us survive.” At this point, she suddenly showed a smile that was half mocking, half concerned: “But Young Master Tie, have you figured out who you are? Have you thought about what you truly want to do?”
Wu Dingyuan was about to retort but suddenly found he couldn’t. Zuo Yehe’s question had struck him like an arrow through the heart and lungs.
Who am I? This question had been tormenting Wu Dingyuan ever since he discovered he wasn’t Iron Lion’s biological son. His past decade of decline and failure wasn’t so much about loss as it was about losing his life’s purpose. Even after being drawn into the Two Capitals plot, this confusion hadn’t dissipated. He had overcome crisis after crisis through willpower and martial prowess, but it had all been passive, all unwilling. Drifting aimlessly, ineffable.
Wu Dingyuan suddenly recalled Su Jingxi’s words in the darkness: “A boat without a compass, facing headwinds in all directions.” Now his night-sailing vessel was tossing in the wind, directionless. Iron Lion’s son, Miebang’s son, wild mongrel, the Crown Prince’s good brother, Tie Xuan’s son, White Lotus leader… One must understand who they are before knowing what to do. Wu Dingyuan tried to sort out his existence but found that the more he pondered, the more contradictory it became. The various identities clashed with each other – the deeper he thought, the more painful and contradictory it became.
“Ah…”
The intense pain struck again. With a clang, the blade fell to the ground as Wu Dingyuan clutched his head and collapsed in agony. Wu Yulu, who was just returning with a bowl of hot water, saw her brother sprawled on the ground and thought he was having another seizure. She hurriedly set down the water bowl and went to help him up. Zuo Yehe stepped forward to assist Wu Yulu in supporting Wu Dingyuan, pressing his tiger’s mouth point as she softly said to her: “Sister Yulu, I’ll take care of your brother. There’s something you need to do now.”
“Huh?” Wu Yulu was in a state of panic.
“Take this dagger.” Zuo Yehe picked up the short blade and placed it in her hands. “Do you know? The Buddhist Mother is about to enter nirvana. But she has one karmic debt still unresolved. Her dharma body cannot attain pure liberation and return to the Crystal Heaven.”
Wu Yulu’s eyes immediately filled with tears: “What can we do?”
“Only you can help her now. Go, plunge this dagger into the Buddhist Mother’s chest.”
Wu Yulu was horrified – what kind of help was this? Wasn’t this murder? But Zuo Yehe’s expression turned solemn as she said in an uncompromising tone, “Your father Wu Buping died because of the Buddhist Mother. This karmic debt must be settled by you.”
“But, but, the Buddhist Mother…” Wu Yulu was too nervous to speak. Zuo Yehe pushed her forward, “You can ask the Buddhist Mother yourself, but hurry. If we delay her ascension to heaven, both our merits will suffer.” Wu Yulu glanced at her brother, still struggling on the ground, then reluctantly gripped the dagger and crouched before the Buddhist Mother.
Tang Sai’er barely opened her eyes, her voice barely a whisper: “Good child, you’ve come.”
“Sister Zuo, Dharma Protector Zuo wants me to… to kill you with this knife.”
Tang Sai’er used all her strength to nod: “I’ve met with great catastrophe, and only this karmic debt remains unresolved, preventing my ascension… Come, recite the Maitreya Sutra with me. You remember how I taught you, don’t you?”
Tears streamed down Wu Yulu’s face as she nodded “mm.” Tang Sai’er gathered her final strength and began chanting softly, with Wu Yulu following through her tears. Tang Sai’er contentedly stroked her hair, then gazed through the roof toward the sky. Once Wu Yulu could recite on her own, she murmured in the faintest voice, “Lin San, Lin San, this old woman is coming to find you at Nanwang’s Fish Mouth…” Her eyes slowly closed.
Amidst the chanting, Wu Yulu slowly raised the dagger with both hands.
Zuo Yehe watched over Wu Dingyuan nearby. She didn’t turn to look, but slightly closed her eyes, scraping more jujube paste from her belt and putting it in her mouth to chew. As the chanting grew clearer, she chewed more forcefully. Suddenly there was a “thunk” behind her, and Zuo Yehe’s lips twitched as if she’d bitten her tongue, a trace of blood seeping out.
Soon after, Wu Dingyuan’s headache subsided and he regained consciousness. When he raised his head, the first thing he saw wasn’t Zuo Yehe, but his sister sitting cross-legged beside the Buddhist Mother, devoutly chanting sutras, while Tang Sai’er lay motionless with a short dagger in her chest. A legendary figure, gone so suddenly.
“You…” Wu Dingyuan glared at Zuo Yehe, understanding what had happened.
Zuo Yehe said calmly, “Isn’t it natural for a daughter to avenge her father?”
Wu Dingyuan was suddenly struck speechless. Indeed, what was wrong with Wu Buping’s blood kin taking the Buddhist Mother’s life? What right did he have to interfere?
Wu Dingyuan gazed at the Buddhist Mother’s corpse and realized he was caught in an absurd web: He couldn’t avenge Iron Lion because he was Tie Xuan’s descendant; because he was Tie Xuan’s descendant, he shouldn’t be protecting the Crown Prince but should join the White Lotus Sect against the court, but he had no desire to join the White Lotus Sect because Iron Lion’s revenge remained unsettled… and so it came full circle.
The Wu family, Tie family, and White Lotus Sect formed an unbreakable cycle, trapping Wu Dingyuan in contradiction no matter what he chose. The frustration in his chest was so thick he could barely breathe. How he wished he had a jar of the strongest, most potent heated wine to drink in one gulp and forget all this confusion and anxiety.
He stumbled over to pull Wu Yulu’s arm: “Yulu, come with me.” Wu Yulu didn’t move, her hands clasped together: “I sent the Buddhist Mother off myself. Her dharma body hasn’t been verified yet, and I haven’t finished reciting the Maitreya Sutra a thousand times. I can’t leave.”
Wu Dingyuan had never heard his sister speak so firmly. He tugged at her but couldn’t move her. His emotions shattered in that instant, and he panted heavily, desperate to escape this gloomy, cramped space. Wu Dingyuan stood up from beside Wu Yulu, wordlessly striding toward the door. He didn’t care if Liang Xingfu was outside, or the Jinan Guard – he just wanted to leave this place quickly. As he passed Zuo Yehe, she watched him calmly, showing no sign of stopping him. Only when Wu Dingyuan crossed the threshold did she speak: “When you figure it out, we’ll be waiting at the White Robe Nunnery.”
A tired sneer escaped Wu Dingyuan’s lips. He staggered out of the room, not hearing Zuo Yehe’s final words: “We all went through this.”
Wu Dingyuan stumbled out from the back hall into the main hall. He made no effort to hide his noise, thinking that if Liang Xingfu attacked him, it would be a welcome release. But Liang Xingfu remained unmoved – he had probably heard of the Buddhist Mother’s death and was facing the corner, head bowed, muttering some scripture.
Wu Dingyuan had no interest in what Liang Xingfu was doing. Since no one stopped him, he lifted the doorbar himself and stepped into the street. He didn’t know where to go or what to do, wandering south like a lost ghost.
The chaos at Daming Lake hadn’t yet reached this side of Seven Saints Street, but the atmosphere on the street was noticeably tense. Pedestrians quickened their pace, and street vendors lowered their voices. After wandering for a while, Wu Dingyuan looked up and saw a tavern ahead. He dove in without hesitation, chose a street-side table, and ordered the waiter to bring a large jar of heated wine. When it arrived, he didn’t bother with the strainer, pouring bowl after bowl, dregs and all, into his mouth. Drowning sorrows in wine had always been his expertise.
Northern heated wine differed from its southern counterpart – southern wine was redistilled with wine lees, while northern used sorghum, clear as water but fierce as fire. Used to southern wine, Wu Dingyuan couldn’t handle the northern strength. Combined with his terrible mood, he was drunk before finishing half the jar. The waiter noticed something wrong and asked him to pay first. Wu Dingyuan, having been kidnapped by the White Lotus Sect from Huai’an to Jinan, had no money at all, and quickly got into an argument with the waiter.
Seeing someone trying to drink without paying, the waiter grew furious, rolling up his sleeves as he and several other servers surrounded Wu Dingyuan. The wine had gone to his head, and with nowhere to vent his frustrations, a fight broke out. Though long dissipated, Wu Dingyuan still had his martial arts skills and quickly sent the servers sprawling. Seeing the situation deteriorating, the proprietor hurriedly sent someone to alert the authorities.
As luck would have it, with the Jinan Guard operating at Daming Lake, the Jinan Prefecture’s constables and guards were on high alert. Hearing about a tavern disturbance, these bailiffs rushed over, first throwing a fishing net over his head, then beating him with their clubs. Wu Dingyuan lay on the ground, accepting the beating without a sound. The proprietor searched the drunk but found nothing, then angrily slipped the bailiffs several strings of paper money, saying he wanted to press charges and let this mongrel suffer in jail.
Having received their bribe, the bailiffs cheerfully led Wu Dingyuan by a rope around his neck, dragging him like a dog to Government Office Street. The Jinan Prefecture’s prison was here – with just a note from the criminal office, they could throw him straight into jail.
Just as the bailiffs reached the prison entrance, a woman suddenly blocked their way. Though she wore only a common horse-face skirt, her bearing and manner were extraordinary. The bailiffs couldn’t quite place her. The woman pulled at Wu Dingyuan, saying this was her husband, prone to drunken trouble-making, who had acted up again today and begged their forgiveness.
The bailiffs all clicked their tongues in wonder – such a worthless drunk had married such a proper, virtuous wife. The proprietor jumped up saying he’d drunk a jar of wine without paying! The woman took out a pearl from her bodice, paid the proprietor in full, and gave each bailiff some copper coins for their trouble.
She handled everything perfectly, speaking just right. The proprietor and bailiffs couldn’t well pursue it further, so they untied the rope, cursed a few times, and dispersed. The woman helped Wu Dingyuan to a nearby teahouse, where the kind owner brought a bowl of sobering tea and helped her pour it down Wu Dingyuan’s throat.
“Wu Dingyuan! Wu Dingyuan!”
Wu Dingyuan heard a very familiar voice calling beside his ear. He shook his head and struggled to open his eyes, finding the blurry figure before he somewhat resembled Su Jingxi. His remaining rationality told him this was impossible. But the voice grew clearer with each call, accompanied by bitter tea washing into his stomach, gradually clearing his drunkenness. Suddenly, Wu Dingyuan felt a sharp pain between his big and second toes on his right foot, as if pierced by a silver needle. The intense pain instantly blew away his remaining confusion, throwing him back to reality from the bottom of a deep well. The scene before Wu Dingyuan finally became clear: a smooth forehead, straight nose, a small mole by the lips, and those crescent-moon eyes that seemed to see through to the heart.
“Doctor… Doctor Su?”
He felt somewhat happy but was too weak to muster any strength. Su Jingxi gripped his hand firmly, like grabbing a dry piece of wood floating on water: “Quickly, quickly, the Crown Prince is in danger!”
Wu Dingyuan’s brightened eyes suddenly dimmed again. Though he couldn’t remember anything before age six, once the truth about the Tie and Zhu families was revealed, it couldn’t be ignored.
“Sorry, I can’t help you.”
He answered hoarsely, a complex emotion flashing across his face. Su Jingxi frowned: “What exactly happened to you in Jinan?”
She keenly sensed that Wu Dingyuan must have experienced something dramatic. Whenever he encountered difficulties, he habitually turned to alcohol to escape, but this time his eyes avoided even the mention of “Crown Prince” – could this dramatic change be related to Zhu Zhanji? What old grudge could a small constable from Nanjing have with the Crown Prince of Beijing? Even if there was a grudge, what did it have to do with Jinan?
“What exactly happened to you?” Su Jingxi rarely repeated a question.
Wu Dingyuan leaned heavily against the chair back: “Doctor Su, you always say being honest feels better. Fine, I’ll tell you honestly, and then please stop bothering me.”
Without waiting for Su Jingxi’s response, Wu Dingyuan began speaking. Still recovering from his drunkenness, his tongue and mind were stiff, making his story jumbled. Even so, Su Jingxi listened in astonishment. These twists and turns truly exceeded the limits of imagination. After Wu Dingyuan finished speaking and Su Jingxi had digested it for a while, she finally looked up and said: “It seems… the true root of your trauma was the shock you received in the Entertainment Bureau prison at age six. You’re Tie Xuan’s son?”
“So don’t try to persuade me to go to Linqing. What reason do I have to save the grandson of my father’s killer?” Wu Dingyuan said venomously.
Su Jingxi said calmly: “You’ve got at least one thing wrong.”
“Hm?”
“The Crown Prince isn’t in Linqing.”
Wu Dingyuan was startled by this. He only now noticed how strange it was for Su Jingxi to appear before him. Why had she come to Jinan seeking help? And how had she so coincidentally encountered him drunk and arrested on the street? With his sharp instincts, he should have noticed something was wrong as soon as he saw Su Jingxi.
Su Jingxi said: “It’s simple. The Crown Prince is here in Jinan. He came to save you.”
Wu Dingyuan felt as if stung by a hornet. He couldn’t help shouting: “Don’t deceive me! How would Big Ca- the Crown Prince know I’m in Jinan Prefecture?”
Su Jingxi then recounted the Crown Prince’s discovery in Huai’an, their parting at An Mountain Lake, and the Crown Prince’s strategy to test Jin Rong. Wu Dingyuan sat there as if struck in the chest by a firearm, paralyzed and unable to move for a long while.
“What madness has possessed him? What could be more important than returning to the capital? What about Yu Qian? Didn’t Yu Qian stop him?”
“Yu Qian was sent to meet with Zhang Hou in Linqing,” Su Jingxi said. “The Crown Prince was adamant this time, even Yu Sishi couldn’t dissuade him. He was determined to save you, saying if he couldn’t even save you, he didn’t deserve to be a ruler.”
“He said that?”
“Yu Qian said an emperor must keep the realm in his heart, and he replied that he wasn’t emperor yet, so needn’t be bound by that title. That pair of ruler and minister, they’re quite interesting.”
“Brainless fool!” Wu Dingyuan cursed, then after a moment’s stupor seemed to remember something, “Where is the Crown Prince now?”
Su Jingxi pointed toward a distant gate: “He went to the Regional Military Commission office almost an hour ago, with no news since. I was watching from this teahouse when I happened to see those bailiffs bringing you in.”
Government Office Street was mostly an official building, with the Jinan Prefecture Prison just dozens of steps from the Shandong Regional Military Commission. From Su Jingxi’s position in the teahouse across the street, she could see both locations. Given this layout, their encounter was almost inevitable once Wu Dingyuan started drinking in despair.
The Crown Prince had been inside for an hour without movement – the implications needed no explanation. Wu Dingyuan’s drunkenness had completely faded, but his body still trembled. Save him or not? He didn’t know, yet he had to know.
Su Jingxi watched this man caught in tremendous conflict and softly sighed: “I’ve experienced confusion like yours. When news of Jinhu’s death reached Suzhou, I was also at a loss. We weren’t related by blood or marriage, her family didn’t even care, so who was I to her? With revenge, you must first understand who you are, then everything becomes clear.”
“How did you…”
“If you’re Wu Dingyuan, then storm back to the White Lotus Sect and make them pay for Wu Buping’s death; if you’re Tie Fuyuan, then watch the Zhu family destroy itself, maybe add your knife thrust to avenge the entire Tie clan; but if today we set aside ruler and subject, father and son, past grievances, and just treat each other as friends… what would you do when a dear friend is in mortal danger?”
Seeing Wu Dingyuan still silent, Su Jingxi took a copper coin from her bodice and held it out flat: “If you’re still uncertain, leave it to heaven’s will. If you see the characters for ‘Yongle,’ then the Tie and Zhu families’ feud cannot be resolved; if you see the blank side, then help your friend, regardless of everything else.”
Wu Dingyuan silently took the coin from her palm and tossed it up. The coin spun several times before landing with a “pat” on the tea table. Both looked – the characters “Yongle Tongbao” were visible in regular script.
Su Jingxi wordlessly stood to leave. But Wu Dingyuan grabbed her sleeve: “Ahem, that was too hasty, I… I haven’t officially tossed it yet.” Su Jingxi made a sound of agreement and sat back down. Wu Dingyuan’s expression grew solemn as he tossed again, but this time before the coin could land, he reached out and slapped it hard against the table, unwilling to lift his hand for a long while.
Su Jingxi stared at the back of his hand, watching it almost lift then press down again, a helpless smile touching her lips. These foolish men are all equally clumsy. She placed her hands gently over Wu Dingyuan’s: “You’ve tossed twice now – do you need heaven to decide what’s truly in your heart?”
From the moment Jin Rong stepped into the prison, Zhu Zhanji felt extremely uncomfortable.
Jin Rong was famous in the military for his dignified bearing, with his long face and beautiful beard earning him the nickname “One-eyed Guan Yu.” When this “Guan Yu” approached the Crown Prince, he showed neither joy at his scheme’s success nor guilt at harming his sovereign, didn’t even avoid eye contact, but wore an expression of righteous dignity, as if he were Guan Yu meeting Cao Mengde after Xuzhou’s fall.
Zhu Zhanji tried hard not to appear too panicked, straightening his back: “Jin Four! I never imagined even you would participate in this usurpation!”
Jin Rong clasped his hands and bowed. He didn’t even bother to disguise anything – in fact, there was no need for pretense. When he arrested Zhu Zhanji earlier, both sides’ positions had become crystal clear, no need for theatrics.
“This servant hadn’t expected Your Highness to appear in Jinan. In haste, I can only invite you to move from the Military Commission office to the South Camp prison.” Jin Rong looked around, “This is south of Jinan city, below Mount Li, where the Jinan Guard’s field camp is located. Your Highness need not worry about your whereabouts being leaked.”
Hearing Jin Rong’s words, Zhu Zhanji’s mouth twitched, regret gnawing at his heart like insects. Only now did he realize how wise Yu Qian’s advice had been – “You never know who’s a traitor, so never reveal your identity to anyone.”
But he couldn’t figure out where his plan had gone wrong. The Jinan Guard had launched a pursuit of the White Lotus Sect – that couldn’t have been faked. If Jin Rong was with the usurpers, why would he strike so hard against his allies? Jin Rong seemed to read the Crown Prince’s thoughts and said disdainfully: “Mere ants, presuming to plot with tigers – they should expect to be crushed.” From these words, Zhu Zhanji vaguely gleaned some information. But before he could think it through, Jin Rong clasped his hands again: “Jinan Prefecture has many delicacies. What would Your Highness like to eat? I’ll have the cook prepare it tonight.”
Zhu Zhanji’s face changed – this was clearly a last meal, meaning Jin Rong couldn’t wait to send him on his way tonight. The Crown Prince instinctively glanced at the prison’s air window, feeling utterly desperate.
Su Jingxi was watching at the Military Commission office in the city, while he had been moved to the South Camp. Even if she sensed something wrong, she wouldn’t know his whereabouts. All she could do now was rush to Linqing to seek help from Yu Qian and his uncle. It would take at least three days from Jinan to Linqing – by the time reinforcements reached Jinan, his seventh-day memorial service would probably be over…
Beg for mercy, ask him to delay? A humiliating thought flashed through his mind.
Meaningless – even if Jin Rong showed mercy, what then? Today was already the twenty-seventh. If he didn’t head north tonight, he absolutely couldn’t reach the capital before the third of the sixth month, equally doomed either way. No matter what, the traitors’ chances of success were nearly certain – damn it! The Crown Prince felt his inner fire growing stronger, almost breaking through the bonds of reason.
Jin Rong showed no interest in the Crown Prince’s changing mood and was about to leave when Zhu Zhanji’s curse suddenly came from behind: “Jin Four, you faithless, disloyal dog!”
Hearing these words, Jin Rong, who had been about to leave, suddenly stopped. He slowly turned back, the light in his single eye growing sharp: “Your Highness, you say I’m faithless and disloyal?”
“Are you not?” Zhu Zhanji couldn’t contain his anger and raised his voice, “You were promoted to Shandong Military Commissioner and received the court’s favor, yet you conspire with villains to first harm the Emperor, then plot against the Crown Prince – where’s the loyalty! Where’s the righteousness? And you style yourself after Guan Yu? Laughable! The real Guan Yu would at least blush!”
Jin Rong strode back to the bars, reached his long arm through the gap, and grabbed Zhu Zhanji’s neck, speaking each word clearly: “I never considered that fat Hongxi my sovereign. My merits were earned helping Emperor Taizong in battle; my rewards were bestowed by Emperor Taizong’s hand – what do they have to do with you, father and son?”
Zhu Zhanji hadn’t expected Jin Rong to harbor such hatred for them, even directly calling the Emperor “fatty.” He couldn’t help retorting: “You kill his son, kill his grandson, yet dare speak his temple name?”
Jin Rong’s single eye suddenly flashed with light, his grip tightening: “Emperor Taizong’s grace runs deep – I, Jin Four, dare not forget it for a moment. What I do now is precisely to repay his kindness!”
Zhu Zhanji’s face turned red from the choking, his breathing difficult, both hands flailing helplessly. Jin Rong realized he was losing control and slowly released his grip. The Crown Prince collapsed to the ground, coughing incessantly. Jin Rong looked down at the Crown Prince, his long beard swaying on his chest as if he’d been holding back for a long time: “That fat Hongxi, his head full of intestines. Emperor Taizong paid such a price for the Jingnan Campaign to achieve today’s situation, and what did he do? With one edict he pardons all those Jianwen remnants – where does that leave us military officials? Emperor Taizong spent his life planning to move the capital to Beijing, and before his bones were cold, he wanted to move the capital back to Nanjing – what filial piety is that! As for you, you may have Emperor Taizong’s face, but none of his spirit, spending your days in pleasure – neither you nor your father deserve to sit on that dragon throne, don’t deserve to inherit the great enterprise he built! Neither of you is fit to be ruler!”
Those words “not fit to be ruler” struck Zhu Zhanji’s deepest pain. He had heard this too often – it had become a thorn in his heart. Why say I’m not fit to be ruler? What must I do to satisfy you? All the anger and confusion long accumulated in the Crown Prince’s heart erupted violently at this provocation.
He transformed into a raging beast, lunging fiercely at Jin Rong. Jin Rong didn’t dodge, just bent his long leg and kicked, striking the Crown Prince squarely in the chest, and sending him flying back. With a “thud,” Zhu Zhanji’s back slammed hard into the prison’s earthen wall, seeing stars. Several clods of earth fell, showing the force of the impact.
Jin Rong said contemptuously: “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. The Yongle Emperor spent his life in warfare, yet produced such a useless waste. I don’t know how Zhu Buhua let you escape Nanjing.”
The Crown Prince’s chest ached terribly from the kick, leaving him unable to stand, but his mouth remained defiant: “Don’t mention Imperial Grandfather! You’re just satisfying your ambitions – don’t act righteous while playing the villain!”
Jin Rong entered the cell, slowly crouched before Zhu Zhanji, brought his face close, and spoke word by word: “My ambition? By participating in the Two Capitals plot, I, Jin Rong, have already put personal honor and disgrace aside. My loyalty isn’t the small loyalty of blindly kneeling to an incompetent ruler, but the great loyalty of returning the realm to Emperor Taizong’s laws. Even if I must bear the evil name of regicide, I accept it willingly.”
Jin Rong struck his chest with his fist, his single eye blazing with righteous intensity, momentarily giving the Crown Prince the bizarre impression that Jin Rong truly believed this was great loyalty, and that he was the villain. The Crown Prince hissed: “Aren’t you afraid Imperial Grandfather’s spirit will strike you treasonous rebels dead with lightning!”
A trace of fanatical excitement crossed Jin Rong’s face: “Of course, Emperor Taizong will show his spirit. Without his protection from the nine springs below, how else would you have traveled thousands of li to Jinan, right into my net? The late emperor’s true intention was never with you, but with his real successor, the True Dragon!”
Zhu Zhanji’s lips moved, but no sound came out.
Jin Rong enjoyed the Crown Prince’s dispirited appearance and waved his sleeve: “Still, I should thank you. Every time I went to court and saw your father’s greasy fat face, I wanted to rush up and give it a good pounding. Unexpectedly, I can somewhat fulfill that wish today – consider it your merit. Now think about what you want for dinner – you can’t meet the late emperor on an empty stomach. This is the only loyal service I’m willing to do for you.”
Just then, a personal guard ran in, interrupting this humiliation. He whispered something in Jin Rong’s ear. Jin Rong made a sound of acknowledgment, and cast a sideways glance at the Crown Prince with slight regret, but said nothing and turned to leave.
The entire prison had been cleared beforehand, so when Jin Rong left, the vast cell suddenly held only Zhu Zhanji. He slumped weakly against the corner as a voice rose in his mind: “You have no hope. Wu Dingyuan’s whereabouts are unknown, Yu Qian is far away in Linqing, and Su Jingxi is isolated and helpless – who can save you? You’re bound in a heavy prison, powerless to do anything. Better to quietly await death…”
“Silence!” Zhu Zhanji cut it off with a low roar before it could finish.
His former self might have lost all fighting spirit and resigned himself to fate. But the journey from Nanjing to Jinan had taught the Crown Prince the most important lesson from his companions – never give up. Whether escaping the palace, setting fire to the Back Lake, breaking out of Guazhou’s water prison, or facing the Huai’an dam, they had always wrested a chance of survival from desperate situations – why should Jinan Prefecture be any different? He wasn’t dead yet, was he?
Zhu Zhanji slowly raised his left hand and struck his right shoulder hard. The arrow wound there was mostly healed, but the arrowhead hadn’t completely worked its way out. The strike sent electric pain through him, instantly awakening his sinking consciousness. He needed to keep his mind occupied – if his thoughts idled, the demons would return. Fortunately, Jin Rong had been too excited earlier and, while humiliating the Crown Prince, had revealed considerable information.
Most importantly was a term Jin Rong had inadvertently mentioned.
True Dragon?
This “True Dragon” was the deepest planner behind this Two Capitals plot, the ultimate beneficiary of the struggle for the throne. But who was he?
Yu Qian had analyzed earlier that only two blood brothers were qualified to compete with Zhu Zhanji for the throne: the Third Brother the Prince of Yue and the Fifth Brother the Prince of Xiangxian. But from Jin Rong’s words, that bastard showed intense reverence for the Yongle Emperor while despising the Hongxi Emperor – he couldn’t possibly show any favor to his offspring.
Could it be that this True Dragon he served wasn’t from the Hongxi Emperor’s line, but from a royal clan branch that split off during the Yongle Emperor’s time… Zhu Zhanji closed his eyes, and another name inexplicably floated up in his mind: Zhu Buhua.
Zhu Zhanji had never understood why Zhu Buhua would rebel. As a Mongolian who had risen to Imperial Stable Superintendent Eunuch, he had already reached life’s peak. What did he hope to gain by joining the Two Capitals plot?
After Zhu Buhua’s death at Back Lake, Zhu Zhanji thought he’d never understand. But Jin Rong’s behavior just now made him realize that Zhu Buhua, like Jin Rong, might not have been motivated by wealth and glory, but by some loyalty – an absolute loyalty that made them unhesitatingly throw themselves into rebellion.
These two men’s backgrounds, personalities, and career paths were vastly different, sharing only one thing: both had participated in the Jingnan Campaign. Realizing this, Zhu Zhanji’s spirit lifted. As it happened, Imperial Grandfather had told him many stories about the campaign during military expeditions, and he knew the details by heart. If he spent some time searching his memories, he might discover something.
The Crown Prince quickly immersed himself in memories in the silent, empty cell.
At the beginning of the Jingnan Campaign, Li Jinlong led 600,000 troops to attack Beijing, while the Prince of Yan met them with 200,000 men at the White Canal River. In this great battle, both Zhu Buhua and Jin Rong belonged to the elite vanguard cavalry, critically breaking through Southern army commander Zhai Neng’s forces, reversing the entire situation and allowing the Yan army to triumph despite being outnumbered.
In the subsequent Battle of Dongchang, the Prince of Yan was surrounded by Cheng Yong’s army and nearly lost his life, saved only by the desperate rescue efforts of Zhang Yu, Jin Rong, and others. In this battle, Zhu Buhua fought in the rear guard wing until the Prince of Yan safely withdrew.
In the fourth year of Jianwen’s reign, at the Battle of Puzikou, the Prince of Yan was locked in an unfavorable engagement with the Southern army. It was Jin Rong who led an advance riding force to the rescue, turning defeat into victory for the Northern army.
Throughout the Jingnan Campaign’s series of battles, both men had established brilliant military achievements, hence one becoming Imperial Stable Superintendent Eunuch and the other Shandong Military Commissioner afterward. Their loyalty to the Yongle Emperor was beyond doubt. But they had appeared together on the battlefield only at White Canal River and Dongchang. Suggesting some connection seemed rather forced.
Zhu Zhanji endured the pain and went through it all again meticulously. As he thought, his eyebrows suddenly lifted as he discovered these two men’s true common ground should be hidden in the military sequence.
Whether the elite vanguard cavalry at White Canal River, the rear guard wing at Dongchang, or the advance riding force at Puzikou – these three forces were one unit, just under different designations at different times. This force naturally served Zhu Di but was also directly commanded by one general.
Zhu Buhua and Jin Rong’s loyalty was very likely dedicated to this direct superior.
The moment Zhu Zhanji recalled that general’s name, his heart suddenly cramped as if constricted by an invisible thorned whip. It was a name people dared not discuss deeply, a curse the Ming royal family couldn’t shake off. Many questions found their answers through this, yet the answers bred new fears. If that person had planned the Two Capitals plot, the situation in the capital was likely ten times more perilous than imagined, nearly irreversible.
The light through the air window still moved slowly – it was now the hour of the Snake, but the Crown Prince’s eyes had quickly dimmed. The despair he had struggled to ignore rapidly crept up from his feet again. This time he didn’t try to resist, allowing himself to be submerged in fear…