Zhu Zhanjun's impervious attitude made all of Fang Bin's schemes fall flat.
He felt like he had nowhere to turn his strength, and the frustration nearly choked him.
"Fine! Fine! Fine!"
Fang Bin laughed in fury, repeating the word three times.
"Zhu Zhanjun, you're something else!"
"Just you wait! We'll meet in the Imperial Court tomorrow!"
After making his threat, he prepared to sweep out of there.
He had already decided: he would let his son go for now and endure it for one night.
Tomorrow, at court, he would join forces with all the censors and impeach Zhu Zhanjun until he was finished!
If he couldn't bring him down, Fang Bin would write his own name backward!
But just as he turned around, an unexpected voice rose from the crowd.
"Isn't that... isn't that His Highness Prince Zheng?"
A man in a short jacket rubbed his eyes and spoke uncertainly.
One of his companions immediately retorted, "How could that be? His Highness Prince Zheng is so exalted. Why would he appear in a place like this?"
"No! It's him! I've seen his portrait!"
Another voice rang out, sharp with excitement and admiration.
"A few days ago, when the Northern Expedition Army returned in triumph, I went to watch the procession. His Highness Prince Zheng's portrait was hung at the city gate. It was him—exactly the same!"
"It really is His Highness Prince Zheng!"
"The Prince Zheng who defeated fifty thousand with just three thousand men and captured the Oirat khan alive?"
"The living bodhisattva who saved more than a hundred thousand Great Ming soldiers during the cold snap in Mobei?"
"My heavens! I've actually seen His Highness Prince Zheng in person!"
"Long live His Highness Prince Zheng!"
Someone started the chant.
In an instant, thunderous cheers resounded across all of Zhuque Avenue.
"May His Highness Prince Zheng live for a thousand years, a thousand years, and a thousand thousand years!"
"Great Ming's God of War! Mighty!"
Thump! Thump!
The commoners, who had only gathered to watch the excitement, now knelt in a vast, dark mass.
Their eyes fixed on Zhu Zhanjun, filled with the most sincere reverence and the most fervent admiration.
To ordinary people living beneath the Son of Heaven's gaze, the emperor was far away, and officials were too imposing.
But Zhu Zhanjun—a young prince who had saved Great Ming's fate with his own strength in its darkest hour—was the true hero in their hearts, the God of War who protected their peaceful lives!
Fang Bin and the Shuntian Prefecture runners he had brought along were dumbstruck.
They stared at the breathtaking sight of thousands upon thousands of people kneeling before them, their minds completely blank.
Fang Bin felt his hands and feet turn icy cold.
The man he had just threatened to impeach was... a God of War with such terrifying prestige among the people?
He suddenly recalled hearing a few days ago that the Northern Expedition Army had survived the White Hair Wind in Mobei only because His Highness Prince Zheng had somehow brought forth a divine army and sent them a vast supply of grain and cold-weather provisions.
At the time, he had assumed it was a story made up by the army to exaggerate its achievements and paid it no mind.
Now, it seemed... it was actually true!
A chill climbed up his spine.
Impeach an Imperial Grandson who was like a deity in the people's hearts?
Was he tired of having such a comfortable official post?
Zhu Zhanjun was a little stunned by the scene before him, too.
He knew his reputation was high now, but he hadn't expected it to be this high.
Looking at the system panel, where his reputation points were rocketing upward at a rate of hundreds of thousands per second, he was overjoyed.
This was all money!
Still, he put on a humble expression and raised a hand toward the crowd.
"Good people, please get up."
"Protecting our homes and defending our country is every soldier's duty. What merit have I?"
"Please, everyone, get up. The ground is cold."
The more he spoke this way, the more the commoners felt that this prince was approachable and unassuming, and the deeper their affection for him grew.
Only after Zhu Zhanjun urged them three times did the crowd reluctantly rise, though their eyes still burned with admiration.
After calming the people, Zhu Zhanjun turned his gaze once more to Fang Bin, whose face had gone ashen.
He walked up to Fang Bin with a warm smile, but every word he spoke struck like a knife.
"Minister Fang, didn't you just say you'd impeach me in the Imperial Court?"
Fang Bin's lips trembled. He couldn't utter a single word.
Impeach him?
Would he dare to do that now?
If he dared say a single bad word about Prince Zheng in court, the people of the entire capital would tear down his front gate the very next day!
"Why so quiet?"
Zhu Zhanjun's smile widened.
"Minister Fang, as I recall, my father—the Crown Prince—was attacked a few days ago, wasn't he?"
Fang Bin's heart lurched. He didn't know why Zhu Zhanjun had suddenly brought that up.
"The crossbow the assassin used was a military-issue repeating crossbow. The arrowheads were coated with aconite poison, which kills with a single drop of blood."
Zhu Zhanjun's voice wasn't loud, but every person there heard him clearly.
"Those things should have been properly stored in the Ministry of War's arsenal."
"But they appeared in the Eastern Palace, in an assassin's hands, and nearly cost my father his life."
He stepped forward, closing in on Fang Bin, his gaze turning sharp.
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