Chapter 59: Zhu Biao, You Need to Work Out

Gu Cheng and Sun Shiba held their master in profound admiration, marveling at how a simple outing for a meal could yield a profit of forty strings of cash.

Having closed his door, Gu Zhenglchen lay on his bed with lingering palpitations. Dealing with individuals of Mu Ying and Zhu Biao's caliber was truly mentally exhausting, as he constantly feared that a single wrong word might invite disaster. After all, standing behind them was Zhu Yuanzhang, an unpredictable and unfathomable monarch.

From today's encounters, Zhu Biao was indeed "filial, benevolent, and kind." Instead of putting on the arrogant airs of a crown prince, he was mild-mannered and treated scholars with utmost courtesy.

As for Mu Ying, he rarely smiled, yet he was not a man of few words. He possessed sound judgment, though his temperament was not overly stern. When excited, he had a habit of grabbing people by the shoulders and shaking them—something that warranted maintaining a slight distance next time.

By evening, Liang Jiajun finally waited for Gu Zhenglchen to emerge, stepping forward with a beaming smile to inquire about various matters, his underlying sentiment being: "In times of wealth and honor, do not forget each other." Translated more plainly: Give your brother a helping hand.

Gu Zhenglchen glossed over the details with a vague explanation: "That's how it is. Mu Ying wanted to trade martial arts instruction for medical techniques. Just think, if I mastered martial arts and carried a precious sword at my waist, encountering bandits or salt smugglers in the future..."

"You? A martial arts prodigy?" Liang Jiajun laughed with blatant insincerity.

With a physique like yours, someone who couldn't even walk four miles in one breath, you want to learn to be a chivalrous swordsman?

Gu Zhenglchen took full responsibility upon himself: "If Brother Liang wishes to study martial arts together, I can help arrange an introduction."

Liang Jiajun shook his head repeatedly: "I'd better stick to reading the Four Books and Five Classics."

The next day, at the Mu Estate's martial training ground.

Mu Ying pointed to the weapon rack: "Sabre, spear, sword, axe, bow. Which martial art do you wish to learn? Forget the bow; that small bow was taken back by my son, and whoever touches it makes him cry."

Gu Zhenglchen scrutinized the rack. It was impossible to get by without a few self-defense moves; the Great Ming dynasty wasn't entirely safe, and public security work still needed attention.

An overbearing sabre? Forget it; neither of them had an overbearing presence.

The spear, the king of weapons? That wasn't bad, but it required brute strength, and given his own arms and legs...

An axe? That was even further out of the question; his profession wasn't chopping firewood or melons, and besides, the weapon was far too violent.

Gu Zhenglchen walked up to the weapon rack and picked up a sword.

It had a black-lacquered scabbard and bat-shaped crossguard. The sword tassel was red, and the hilt was wrapped in black cord.

*Clang—*

The sword cleared its sheath, flashing a blinding, cold light.

His pupils constricted slightly as frosty patterns became visible across the blade. The sword was three feet long, its sharp edge gleaming menacingly.

"For ten years I honed this sword, its frosty edge yet untried. Today I show it to you: who shall right the injustices of the world?"

Gu Zhenglchen drew the long sword, held it vertically before his chest, and said with a solemn expression: "The scent of books and the gleam of a sword—that is the true essence of a man. If I am to learn, I shall learn this swordsmanship!"

Mu Ying nodded slightly and glanced at Wu Rong: "Teach him."

Wu Rong stepped forward, took the sword from Gu Zhenglchen's hand, and said sternly: "Watch closely."

Just as Gu Zhenglchen nodded, Wu Rong moved with light steps, his sword already flashing through the air as he chanted: "Where the sword points, the body's momentum follows! The sword moves with agility, unblocked, unparried, advancing without contact!"

Sword lights flickered, the movements were fierce and sharp, and the footwork was agile. It was clear that Wu Rong was an expert.

Wu Rong finished his routine, stood still with his sword drawn, then walked over to Gu Zhenglchen, handed him the weapon, and said, "Practice."

Gu Zhenglchen stared in astonishment: "You're done teaching?"

"Done."

"What was the first move again?"

"I..."

"Was it the left leg or the right leg, and where should the sword point?"

"Careful with that sword! Tell you what, shall we start by learning with a toy sword instead?"

Mu Ying raised a hand to massage his forehead. *Sigh, here we go again, time to go coax a child.* Shortly thereafter, Mu Sheng started crying again. *Which jerk stole my wooden sword this time? Will this never end...*

An hour later, Wu Rong looked in sweat-drenched exhaustion at Mu Ying, who was leisurely sipping tea. This fellow simply had no talent for martial arts; he couldn't even remember which foot went where, and only wanted to wave the sword around to look cool...

Mu Ying lowered his head to read military treatises, ignoring him. Whatever the case, the other party had already handed over miraculous life-saving knowledge, so he had to be taught at least a move or two. As the head of the guards, if Wu Rong didn't do it, who would? Was he expected to do it himself?

Wu Rong had been through battlefields and killed his share of Tatars, but he rarely felt as exhausted as he did today. After teaching for two hours, he was mentally and physically drained.

Gu Zhenglchen gritted his teeth and persevered. There was no way he could fail to learn even a single routine; Juyong had too many mountains, and in case a bandit or a local bully suddenly appeared...

Never mind, he needed to master at least one combo.

After lunch, under the pretext of feeling unwell, Wu Rong dragged over a bodyguard named Zhang Pei, telling him to instruct a "martial arts prodigy." Zhang Pei was overjoyed, thinking it was a fine assignment.

Half an hour later, Zhang Pei was already contemplating flight. He had never seen anyone so utterly uncoachable. A martial arts prodigy? Pah, even trash wasn't this useless.

Gu Zhenglchen was equally depressed. Clearly, he had understood it when watching, but his hands stubbornly refused to cooperate...

Learning martial arts was no easy task, especially since Gu Zhenglchen couldn't even keep up with basic physical conditioning and was relying purely on sheer willpower.

Returning the next day, his footwork remained chaotic, and his sword handling was terrifyingly awkward...

Returning on the third day, even little Mu Sheng began to despise Gu Zhenglchen. Standing far off in the distance, he watched the man who had first stolen his bow and then his sword...

On this day, at the Huagai Hall.

Song Lian, Hanlin Reader-in-Waiting, holding a scroll in hand, paced slowly and said to Zhu Yuanzhang, who was listening intently: "The imperial court is the foundation of the realm. The ruler is the foundation of the court. And the mind, moreover, is the foundation of the ruler. If the ruler can rectify his mind so that it is pure and clear, untroubled by external things, then his edicts and commands will invariably be just, and the court will be upright..."

Zhu Yuanzhang listened closely, receiving the instruction with utmost care. When a passage struck a chord within him, he picked up his brush and wrote it down.

Governing the nation and managing state affairs differed from conquering territory during the founding of a dynasty; what it required was wisdom. And the best way to acquire wisdom was to read books, listen to lectures, master the experiences of predecessors, and use history—along with the rise and fall of previous dynasties—as a mirror in order to properly govern the Great Ming.

Zhu Yuanzhang laid his brush down heavily.

He hadn't read extensively, nor was his cultural background profound. Many scholars looked down on him, considering service in the court a disgrace to their status. Expressions like "Princes endure prolonged humiliation, while servants ascend together" were merely veiled insults implying he was a slave who had risen to power.

There were others still waiting for a Yuan dynasty counterattack, hoping his empire would be crushed by the Tatars so they could return to the Yuan.

The Inspectorate reported that Xia Boqi and his nephew, Confucian scholars from Guixi County in Jiangxi's Guangxin Prefecture, had each severed their own left thumbs so they would not be forced to serve the Ming dynasty!

Splendid! You all acknowledge the Yuan dynasty as the Mandate of Heaven, yet refuse to recognize the Great Ming as such!

You would rather kneel at the feet of the Yuan Tatar barbarians than be of use to me, Zhu Yuanzhang. Since that is the case, you are not loyal subjects of the Great Ming, nor are you the subjects of Zhu Yuanzhang!

Your parents could give you life, but your destiny belongs to Me!

If you refuse to obey the commands of the Great Ming, then die!

Off with your heads, and confiscate your property!

Seeing that Zhu Yuanzhang's thoughts had wandered afar, Song Lian had no choice but to lower his voice: "Your Majesty, today's Classic Seminar has concluded."

Zhu Yuanzhang snapped out of his reverie. Looking at the slightly aged Song Lian, he stood up and said, "Today is My fault; I actually let my mind wander during the seminar. I shall eat one less bowl of rice today as a form of self-punishment."

Song Lian quickly said, "Your Majesty carries the burden of state affairs; how can you reduce your meals?"

Zhu Yuanzhang waved a hand and walked toward Song Lian: "Master Song is the Crown Prince's Mentor and Grand Preceptor, bearing the duty of instruction and supervision. Over the past half year, how do you assess the Crown Prince's performance?"

Without panicking, Song Lian replied slowly: "His Highness studies diligently and already embodies the demeanor of a scholar. He treats others with sincerity, treats scholars with courtesy, possesses strong opinions, and excels at recognizing his own shortcomings to correct them diligently..."

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded with satisfaction: "The Crown Prince has made remarkable progress, and I am deeply gratified. You teachers of the East Palace have applied yourselves well. The Mid-Autumn Festival is in three days; you should drink and celebrate with your families."

Song Lian expressed his gratitude: "This old subject thanks Your Majesty for the blessing of reunion."

"You may withdraw."

Zhu Yuanzhang walked toward the dragon desk to attend to state affairs. Seeing the eunuch attendant Wang Wangjin step forward with tea, he asked, "Where is the Crown Prince?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, he went to the Mu Estate."

"To see Mu Ying? Those two brothers are certainly close."

"Your Majesty, I hear the Crown Prince went to the Mu Estate specifically to observe a juren scholar learning martial arts."

Zhu Yuanzhang raised his head, somewhat amused: "Observe a juren learning martial arts? If I recall correctly, Gu Zhenglchen is merely a scholar."

Wang Wangjin lowered his head and replied softly: "Perhaps that is precisely why it is worth watching..."

Zhu Yuanzhang understood and burst into laughter. He stood up and said, "Change Me into casual attire; let us go to the Mu Estate to take a look as well."

At the Mu Estate.

Zhu Biao was laughing so hard he could barely contain himself. While Gu Zhenglchen was exceptionally talented at studying, he truly possessed not an ounce of talent for martial arts.

He had been practicing for five full days now, yet he still couldn't execute a single combo. While he could hold the sword, his footwork failed him entirely, leaving massive openings. If he were to duel someone for real, he'd be cut down with a single stroke.

Looking at those chaotic steps, it truly was a case of managing his hands while completely losing control of his feet.

Noticing several wooden stakes erected inside the training ground, complete with a pit dug underneath covered by a fishing net, a balance-beam-style plank not far away, and further south, a wooden wall alongside several high and low parallel bars, Zhu Biao asked Mu Ying in bewilderment: "Why are there so many miscellaneous contraptions in this training ground?"

Mu Ying glanced at them and sighed helplessly: "Gu Zhenglchen believes his poor swordplay stems from inadequate physical fitness. These were all requested by him, claiming they would strengthen his body."

"Hasn't it occurred to him that he simply isn't cut out for martial arts?" Zhu Biao asked curiously.

Mu Ying lowered his voice: "Your Highness, he has a very stubborn disposition. Look, the bodyguards assigned to teach him have already been rotated eighteen times, yet he refuses to give up. If we told him outright, I'm afraid he couldn't take it. Let's just pretend we don't know. Besides, he'll be heading to Juyong as the magistrate after the Mid-Autumn Festival anyway; there are only a few days left..."

Zhu Biao thought about it and agreed. Scholars cared deeply about their pride; telling him he was useless would be tantamount to slapping him in the face.

Although Gu Zhenglchen lacked talent for martial arts, he was an exceptional civil official. Over the past couple of days, discussing antiquity with him had proved immensely rewarding. Moreover, unlike other East Palace officials who constantly flattered and exercised excessive caution, Gu Zhenglchen spoke directly, which was quite refreshing.

Seeing Gu Zhenglchen put down his sword, Mu Ying said to Zhu Biao, "Watch, he's starting his special training."

Zhu Biao was just about to nod when he saw Gu Zhenglchen look over and shout, "Brother Dalang, come over here and train with us."

"Calling me?" Zhu Biao froze.

Gu Zhenglchen wiped the sweat from his brow and stretched his wrists: "Yes, you young man need to exercise your body..."

"Hiss." Mu Ying drew in a sharp breath. *You actually dare to speak to the Crown Prince of the Great Ming like that? You—you are far too bold...*