Deep into the night, Zhu Di's central army tent was still brightly lit.
Zhu Zhanjun yawned as two solemn-faced eunuchs "escorted" him inside.
"Grandfather, it's the middle of the night. Why aren't you asleep? What did you call me here for?"
Rubbing his bleary eyes, Zhu Zhanjun complained, "I still have to lead the troops back to the capital tomorrow. I need to get enough rest."
Zhu Di said nothing. He merely sat in the seat of honor, watching him expressionlessly.
The atmosphere inside the tent was oppressive.
Besides Zhu Di and Zhu Zhanjun, a Commander of the Imperial Guard in a Flying Fish Robe stood in the shadows like a statue.
"Zhanjun, come over and take a look at this."
Zhu Di pointed at the person at his feet, whose head was covered with a burlap sack and whose body was bound up like a rice dumpling.
"What's that?"
Curious, Zhu Zhanjun walked over and nudged the man with his foot.
"The commander of Prince Han's Manor's personal guards."
Zhu Di's voice was as cold as ice.
"Our men just caught him. He was about to leave camp and deliver a message to the Oirats."
Zhu Zhanjun's gaze instantly turned cold.
"What did the letter say?"
"It listed your route back to the capital, your troop deployments, and... the blueprints for the Shenbi Crossbow you're carrying."
Zhu Di looked at him and spoke each word distinctly.
Zhu Zhanjun smiled.
"My two dear uncles really are... in a hurry."
"They don't just want you dead. They want me dead as soon as possible, too."
A trace of grief and fury flashed in Zhu Di's eyes. "I'm not even dead yet, and they dare conspire with a foreign enemy under my very nose and plot against the Imperial Grandson!"
"What do you plan to do about it?" Zhu Zhanjun asked.
Zhu Di did not answer him. Instead, he gave the Commander of the Imperial Guard a meaningful glance.
The commander understood at once. He drew the Spring Sword at his waist and walked over to the bound guard captain.
Whoosh!
A flash of steel.
A head rolled to the ground.
Blood splattered across Zhu Zhanjun's trouser leg.
The whole thing was swift and clean, without the slightest hesitation.
Yet Zhu Zhanjun didn't even blink. He simply bent down, took out a handkerchief, and wiped the blood from his trouser leg with a look of distaste. Then he raised his head and looked at Zhu Di.
"Grandfather, what are you doing? Killing a chicken to scare the monkeys?"
"I'm teaching you to see clearly what the imperial household is—and what power means!"
Zhu Di's voice suddenly rose, filled with imperial authority and weariness.
He stood from his seat and walked step by step toward Zhu Zhanjun. His once all-conquering eyes were now bloodshot.
"Zhanjun, I don't have much time left."
"Your father, Zhu Gaochi, has more than enough kindness, but not enough ruthlessness."
"He's a good man, but that doesn't mean he'll make a good emperor."
"He can maintain the status quo, but with your two uncles watching like tigers from within and the Timurid Empire stirring beyond our borders, he won't be able to keep them in check!"
"Your Elder Brother, Zhu Zhanji, is learned, but he's too soft-hearted. He's cut from the same cloth as your father."
"If he has to deal with your two uncles, who are as ravenous as wolves and tigers, they'll devour him until not a bone is left!"
"Only you!"
Zhu Di planted both hands heavily on Zhu Zhanjun's shoulders. A final glimmer of light burst from his eyes.
"Only you have the bearing I had in my younger days! You're ruthless, clever, and resourceful—and you have strength beyond anything the others could ever hope to reach!"
"Zhanjun, tell me: if I entrust Great Ming's realm to you, do you dare accept it?"
Zhu Di's words crashed into Zhu Zhanjun's heart like a succession of heavy blows.
Was this... his deathbed charge?
And not just the throne, but the future of all Great Ming!
He actually wanted to bypass his own son Zhu Gaochi and his Elder Brother Zhu Zhanji and pass the throne directly to him!
Looking into his grandfather's eyes, filled with hope and pleading, Zhu Zhanjun was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.
Was he moved?
A little.
But more than anything... he was annoyed.
I treat you like my grandfather, and you want me to become emperor?
Zhu Zhanjun grumbled furiously to himself.
He had finally dealt with the mess in Mobei and was getting ready to return to the capital, where he could go back to his carefree, pleasure-seeking life.
But even on the brink of death, the old man still had to saddle him with a problem this huge.
Become emperor?
What a joke!
He'd have to get up before dawn every day to attend court and deal with every petty little matter.
Someone would taste his food for poison, guards would watch over him while he slept, and even when he went to the toilet, there'd be a whole line of people standing nearby.
All year round, he'd do nothing but read memorials and read more memorials.
How was that any different from being in prison?
"Grandfather, don't joke around."
Pulling a long face, Zhu Zhanjun tried to remove Zhu Di's hands from his shoulders. "That job's too exhausting. I can't do it."
"Just let my father take the throne."
"Do you think this is a matter of whether you want the job or not?"
Zhu Di shook his head, a trace of sorrow flashing in his eyes. "Do you think you can refuse today and go back to being your carefree prince?"
"I'm telling you, that's impossible!"
"Your Second Uncle and Third Uncle already know how frail my health is."
"They also know that you're their greatest threat."
"Today, I can help you kill one guard captain."
"But once I'm dead, who will protect you?"
"Your father can't protect you! Your Elder Brother can't protect you either!"
"When that happens, they'll use every means at their disposal to come after you! Even with a great army at your command, you won't be able to guard against them!"
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