Chapter 34: The Ming Prince's Transformation Journey

Hearing his second brother, Zhu Di looked in the direction indicated and spotted a monk not too far away.

The monk was taking some of the food he had obtained through alms from his bowl and giving it to a child who was crying from hunger. With a kind smile, he reached out and gently patted the head of the child, who was devouring the food.

Zhu Di felt a slight stir in his heart. Over the years, he had seen many monks who would go to any lengths to solicit incense money, and many who wandered about begging for alms. But this was the first time he had ever seen a monk take food from his own bowl to feed someone else.

"That monk is quite something. He is very different from most others," Zhu Di said, his voice tinged with emotion.

Zhu Shuang, the Prince of Qin, felt nothing of the sort. He had only pointed the monk out to his younger brother because the crowd they had been traveling with consisted entirely of ordinary migrants. A bald man in monastic robes appearing in their midst was as conspicuous as a donkey wandering into a flock of sheep—it was simply a novelty.

"What’s so special about him? The food in his bowl was begged from others in the first place. He’s just using other people’s things to play the benefactor," remarked Zhu Gang, the Prince of Jin, habitually contradicting Zhu Di.

"That in itself is rare. Regardless of how the food got into his bowl, once it is there, it belongs to him. He could have chosen to eat it himself instead of giving it away. But he didn't."

"Pah!" Zhu Gang curled his lip. "Let’s get moving. Instead of staring at monks, we’d be better off settling down and getting to work!"

Zhu Di raised one hand in a gesture of respect toward the monk from afar, then picked up his pack and followed the others forward.

The monk, Daoyan, happened to glance over and, seeing this, returned the gesture from a distance. Withdrawing his gaze from the young man in the crowd, Daoyan stood there, continuing to watch the many migrants disembarking from the ships.

It was only natural for these migrants, who had left their homes and traveled from afar, to feel uneasy. Daoyan knew clearly that for most of them, the arduous journey to Linhuai County or other areas near Fengyang did not mark the end of their displacement or the beginning of a new life. Instead, a much harder life awaited them.

He wondered how many among them would end up disabled, how many would die, and how many families would be torn apart. The current Central Capital was a hell that devoured human lives. Of those who had walked straight into this trap, how many would meet a good end? Especially the strong and able-bodied among them.

He only wondered how Zhu Hongwu would resolve this situation...

He shook his head slightly, feeling that he should not harbor any expectations. There were only two possible outcomes. Either Zhu Hongwu would be completely deceived by Li Shanchang, remaining oblivious to how the Central Capital was being built, and proceed with the relocation happily; or Zhu Hongwu would know the truth, and whether he cared or not, he would be unable to change the result and would simply pretend not to know as he continued with the relocation.

Regardless, no matter how many people died, the capital would certainly be moved to the Central Capital. The faction of Huai-Xi meritorious officials, led by Li Shanchang, was simply too powerful. Even Zhu Hongwu could not contend with them, let alone truly break with them.

The Huai-Xi faction could be said to be one with the Emperor; they were the very foundation of Zhu Hongwu’s power. To strike at Huai-Xi was to cut flesh from his own body. It was easy to wield a blade against an external enemy, but once the blade was turned inward, it was truly difficult to strike.

Moreover, the current Great Ming was not a monolith. The Huai-Xi nobles and the troops under their command remained the strongest cards in Zhu Hongwu’s hand. If he were to move against them, it was highly likely that the entire realm would fall into chaos. Even if Zhu Hongwu possessed the resolve and courage to turn the blade inward, he dared not do anything to Li Shanchang or the Huai-Xi nobles at this moment.

Daoyan had considered this matter for a long time. He had thought it over repeatedly, yet could find no way to break the deadlock. This time, there was only one path for Zhu Hongwu: to be forced by Li Shanchang to swallow his pride.

...

The migrants were guided by officials to an open area three miles away to be registered. Officials from Linhuai County were in charge of the process. Nearby, seeds, plow oxen, and farming implements were waiting to be distributed.

In the final years of the Yuan Dynasty, the two Huai regions and the northern lands had suffered constant natural disasters and incessant warfare. Every industry had collapsed, the population had withered, and fewer than one in ten remained. For instance, Yangzhou, once a city of such prosperity that it was said to be the destination of those with a fortune of a hundred thousand strings of cash, had been left with only eighteen households by the early Hongwu years!

When Zhu Yuanzhang brought Zhu Biao on a northern inspection and saw such desolation, he had wondered if he had come to the wrong place. What he had envisioned as a majestic tour like that of the First Emperor had become a heavy burden. On the spot, Zhu Yuanzhang had resolved to vigorously restore the people's livelihood. The grand migration of the Hongwu era thus began.

Through semi-compulsory measures, the government moved people from densely populated areas where land was scarce to regions devastated by war. This both eased the land-population conflict in the south and promoted development in the north. Zhu Yuanzhang’s ancestral home was naturally included in this resettlement plan, which had been ongoing for years. In addition to commoners, after the decision was made to build the Central Capital, he had followed the Western Han dynasty's system of imperial mausoleum relocation, moving over a hundred thousand wealthy households from the south to populate the city.

The three brothers—the second, third, and fourth, who had renamed themselves Wu Tian, Wu Xing, and Wu Jian—mingled in the crowd. They went through the official identity verification, filled out new household registration papers, and were assigned to live in Niujiawan. They were then led to collect their farming tools, as well as three months' worth of rations and seeds.

While this helped put the other migrants at ease, it left the three brothers anxious. Hadn't their father told them to act as undercover agents to observe the situation in the Central Capital? Why were they being settled here in Linhuai instead of being sent to the capital? If they were truly trapped here, how could they go to the Central Capital, display their talents, fulfill their father's mission, and earn his recognition?

As the three brothers worried in secret, the other migrants felt a sense of joy and anticipation for their new lives, seeing that the government was indeed providing rations, seeds, tools, and livestock as promised. Then, the unexpected happened.

The bailiffs and soldiers from the Ministry of Works, who had been standing nearby without taking action, stepped forward.

"By order of the Ministry of Works, you are drafted as laborers to build the Central Capital!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the migrants erupted into an uproar.

"Official, is... isn't it true that migrants are exempt from two years of corvée labor?" a gray-haired old man asked, bowing and smiling as he gathered his courage.

"Yes," the armored man in charge nodded. "But this is not corvée labor; this is building the Central Capital for the Emperor—a blessing earned over several lifetimes."

The mention of the Emperor silenced everyone. Yet, they knew in their hearts that something was wrong. This was clearly corvée labor, just under a different name. The man, however, had no patience to explain further and began pointing at people one by one. Any man who looked fit enough to work, regardless of age, was selected. Even some sturdy women were chosen.

Some of those selected tried to resist or argue, but they were met only with violence from the bailiffs and soldiers. Had it not been for the specific instructions from Commander Ding to treat the laborers as a precious resource and avoid bloodshed unless absolutely necessary, they would have certainly killed a few to serve as a warning.

The people said nothing, but in their hearts, they cursed the Emperor, blaming him for most of their grievances.

Zhu Shuang, Zhu Gang, and Zhu Di, clearly being strong men, were not overlooked. Listening to the weeping and sensing the profound unease of the migrants, the three brothers, now escorted by soldiers toward the Central Capital, were much more silent than they had been on the boat, their excitement for the journey having vanished.

...

"Go on now. Follow them to your assigned areas and begin your new lives. Live well; once your families finish building the Central Capital, they will return to be reunited with you." A magistrate from Linhuai County watched as the group of migrants shrank by nearly half, offering these words of comfort.

He knew in his heart, however, that of those taken to build the Central Capital, perhaps half would never return. Those left behind were mostly the old, the weak, the women, and the children; without the able-bodied laborers, surviving would not be easy.

But what could he do about it? The orders came from the Ministry of Works, which was backed by Li Shanchang, the Duke of Korea. Here, Li Shanchang’s orders were more effective than the Emperor’s.

...

"Magistrate Zheng, are you not going to oversee the migrant resettlement?" asked Xu Sima, the newly appointed Commander of the Fengyang Guard, dressed in crimson military robes, as he looked at Zheng Shiyuan, the Magistrate of Linhuai.

*What is the point of overseeing it?* Zheng Shiyuan thought. *No sooner were the supplies distributed than the Ministry of Works snatched the men away to be laborers. Should I go to witness the arrogance of the Ministry of Works? To watch the suffering of the people? To display my own incompetence?*

Zheng Shiyuan kept these words to himself. The man was a third-rank general, and he was a seventh-rank civil official. The other was the Emperor’s foster son, while he himself had once forced the Emperor to kill his own nephew. Now, the one behind all this was the Duke of Korea, whom the Emperor called his Xiao He, and what was being built was the Emperor’s own Central Capital. What could he say? He could say nothing!

"The county has handled these matters many times; they can do it well without me," Zheng Shiyuan said, shaking his head. "Rather than going there and adding to the chaos, I would prefer to spend my time here building more irrigation canals."

Xu Sima was not surprised. He looked at Zheng Shiyuan and said, "However, among the new batch of migrants, there are the Emperor’s own sons. The Prince of Qin, the Prince of Jin, and the Prince of Yan are all among them."

Zheng Shiyuan: ???!!!