Zhu Zhanjun's lazy voice rang through the great tent, but it landed like a resounding slap, striking Prince Han Zhu Gaoxu and Prince Zhao Zhu Gaosui squarely across the face.
What?
The Great Snow Dragon Riders?
Had carved through an army of two hundred thousand?
And saved no one at all?
Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui were both dumbstruck.
"You... What nonsense are you spouting?!"
Zhu Gaoxu was the first to recover. He pointed at Zhu Zhanjun's nose and rebuked him furiously. "What Great Snow Dragon Riders?"
"With your measly talent for cricket fighting, you carved through an army of two hundred thousand?"
"Are you still dreaming?"
"Father!"
He turned to Zhu Di, his face full of anguish. "Just look at him! Not only did this brat fail to protect you, he dares to boast shamelessly and claim military merit that isn't his!"
"Such conduct is utterly shameless! He must be punished severely!"
"That's right, Father."
Zhu Gaosui chimed in as well. "The battlefield is perilous, and blades have no eyes."
"Second Brother and I led our troops day and night, rushing here to drive back the Oirat and Tatar alliance."
"This brat hasn't accomplished a thing, yet he wants to steal credit for an enormous victory. His heart is crooked!"
The two of them still clung to their version of events.
In their deeply rooted understanding, Zhu Zhanjun was a good-for-nothing.
How could a good-for-nothing possibly achieve such an extraordinary feat?
It had to be false!
It was a lie he'd made up to cover up his failure to protect the emperor!
At last, Zhu Di couldn't take it anymore with these two clownish sons of his.
He said nothing, only waved a hand at Duke of England Zhang Fu.
Zhang Fu understood at once. He cleared his throat and stepped forward.
He recounted everything that had happened over the past few days, from Zhu Di being trapped, to Zhu Zhanjun's Divine Soldiers descending from heaven, to how the Great Snow Dragon Riders had punched through the enemy camp and used the Shenbi Crossbows to shatter the hundred thousand Oirat troops, and finally how they had pursued Arutai and Yesen... He told the whole story, exactly as it had happened.
Zhang Fu's voice was not loud, but every word struck Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui's hearts like a heavy hammer.
Their expressions shifted from disdain, to doubt, to shock, then disbelief, until at last they were left utterly blank and ashen-faced.
It was especially when they heard that Zhu Zhanjun's three thousand "household troops" had, with a repeating crossbow, single-handedly routed a hundred thousand elite Oirat cavalry on the open battlefield that they felt their entire worldview had been turned upside down.
H-How was this possible?
Was this still a war fought with cold weapons?
Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui looked at each other, and saw deep fear in each other's eyes.
What they feared wasn't the invincible Great Snow Dragon Riders.
They feared the man who commanded that army: Zhu Zhanjun!
A nephew who had pretended to be a good-for-nothing for more than a decade, yet possessed such terrifying strength and cunning...
If he wanted to deal with them, then...
At the thought, they both shuddered in unison.
"So... what do you think, Second Uncle, Third Uncle?"
Looking at their ghost-struck expressions, Zhu Zhanjun walked over with a grin and patted Zhu Gaoxu on the shoulder. "Do you still think I'm claiming false military merit?"
Zhu Gaoxu's body stiffened abruptly.
The hand Zhu Zhanjun had placed on his shoulder didn't seem to weigh much, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand catties, pressing the breath from his lungs.
"You..."
He opened his mouth, but couldn't get a single word out.
Admit he was wrong?
Where would that leave Prince Han's dignity?
But if he denied it, he'd be lying through his teeth and making himself the enemy of the entire army!
"Enough."
At the crucial moment, Zhu Di spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.
"This matter ends here."
He spoke calmly, but his tone brooked no argument.
"Gaoxu, Gaosui, your eagerness to rescue me is commendable."
"But from now on, think before you speak."
"Yes, Father."
The two men bowed and hurriedly retreated to one side, as if granted a new lease on life. They didn't dare say another word.
Having dealt with his two sons, Zhu Di turned his gaze to Zhu Zhanjun once more.
This time, his eyes were razor-sharp.
"Zhanjun."
"Yes, Grandfather. Your grandson is here."
"Hand over the training methods for your Great Snow Dragon Riders, along with the blueprints for those repeating crossbows."
Zhu Di's tone was not a request, but a command.
As a great ruler, he understood better than anyone what this army and this weapon meant to a nation.
They meant that Great Ming would possess an army invincible beneath the heavens!
They meant that he could finally resolve the border troubles that had plagued the Central Plains dynasties for centuries!
Therefore, this technology had to—and could only—be in the hands of the imperial family!
The atmosphere in the great tent grew tense once more.
Everyone watched Zhu Zhanjun, wanting to know how he would respond.
Handing them over meant losing his greatest advantage.
Refusing would mean defying the emperor's order, with unimaginable consequences.
"Hand them over?"
Zhu Zhanjun blinked, as if he hadn't understood Zhu Di. Then he asked, utterly unruffled, "Why should I?"
"I spent more than a decade working my fingers to the bone, pouring countless riches into making these."
"Why should I give them to you?"
His words sent a shock through the entire tent.
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