Chapter 131: Old Zhu Di: Me? Young and Vigorous?

The old camp of the Jurchen tribes lay in ruins.

"In the third year of Chenghua, in the tenth month, the Korean commander Kang Sun and the general Yu Youzhao destroyed the various strongholds of the Jianzhou Guard’s Wumi Prefecture, razing their settlements before returning."

Zhu Youjian traced the characters carved into a towering tree and recited them silently.

Zhu Jianshen added, "Those two led their troops to behead over eight hundred, and for that, the imperial court rewarded them with fifty taels of silver." That sum was equivalent to the monthly salary of a first-rank official.

Zhu Youjian found it laughable. If even Korea could suppress the Jianzhou Jurchens at will, forcing a tribe of fewer than three thousand households to suffer eight hundred casualties in a single engagement, then all the boasts about being "invincible under heaven once ten thousand are gathered" were nothing but hot air. They were practically freezing to death in the north, yet they still had the gall to brag. Such self-aggrandizing talk was good for a laugh, but only a fool would believe it.

"That little hill ahead must be their new stronghold. To dare raid the borders with such meager numbers—who gave them the courage?" Zhu Yuanzhang remarked, looking at the distant camp with a speechless expression. It was nothing more than an oversized bandit den.

Zhu Jianshen added, "Great Ancestor, the ones raiding the border are the Huligai and the Haixi Jurchens..."

"To us, they are all just wild savages." Zhu Yuanzhang waved his hand and commanded, "Grandson, bring out the troops. Make sure they are surrounded tightly; remember, do not let a single savage whelp escape!"

"Understood." Zhu Youjian nodded, his figure vanishing on the spot.

Soon, fifty thousand elite troops from the Chenghua era formed an oval, splitting into twelve divisions to surround the Jurchen strongholds from all sides, sealing them off completely. Panic erupted within the camp. Before long, a dozen Jurchens rushed out, clashed with the Ming soldiers, and two were immediately executed on the spot; only then did the rest quiet down.

Zhao Fu stepped forward. The leader of the Jurchens, a man with a partially shaved head and a braid at the nape of his neck, dropped his armor and weapons, rode his horse forward, and demanded in shock and fury:

"I wish to ask the Emperor of the Great Ming, why have you sent such heavy forces to surround my tribe for no reason? You attack without a just cause—is this not a great power bullying a small state?"

"Your Jianzhou Jurchens raided the border..."

Before he could finish, Shi Baoqi shouted back in protest: "Bullshit! That was the Haixi Jurchens! They are the ones who raided the border, why are you Ming people attacking my Jianzhou tribe!?"

"Jurchen is Jurchen! Barbarian savages who know no civilization have no need for such rules!"

Zhao Fu rode forward, expressionless. "The Jurchens have repeatedly raided the border passes. I have received the Emperor’s decree to sweep through the Jurchen tribes, root and branch, and extinguish their kind! I am acting under orders; you would do well to comply obediently!"

He did not consider the Jurchens worth a second thought, but since the ancestral emperors had descended to personally oversee the annihilation, he gave it his absolute focus.

"Comply? With you?"

Shi Baoqi was consumed with rage. Pointing his iron spear at Zhao Fu’s nose, he roared, "You Ming are arrogant! Do you take my tribe’s three thousand Batou warriors for nothing?"

Zhao Fu ignored him entirely, turned his horse back to camp, and brought the army closer, proving with his actions that he truly did not consider them worth a thought. Shi Baoqi was struck by a mix of shock and fury, his horse snorting uneasily as it backed away step by step.

"Waya ya! I am so angry I could burst!"

"Shi Baoqi, come back quickly!" the panicked Jurchens shouted from afar.

BOOM!

A bolt of lightning as thick as a barrel struck from a clear sky. Shi Baoqi and his horse were instantly reduced to ash, obliterated into nothingness!

The Jurchens in the distance were stunned for a moment before falling from their horses, only to be immediately beheaded by the Ming soldiers, who grabbed their braids and tied them to their belts. The Ming soldiers were full of praise for the Jurchen hairstyle; it seemed specifically designed to make counting heads easier.

"Still, fighting Jurchens is the most satisfying. Once you chop off their heads, you can just tie the braids to your belt. It’s so convenient when it comes time to trade them for military merit!"

"You said it. Those bald ones in the west just give me a headache. You can't carry many of them, so you have to settle for ears!"

"Cutting ears is easy enough, but the commanders always deduct them, claiming we're killing innocent people to fake merit. Who the hell would do such a beastly thing? They just want to skim off the top. Let's see who dares deny my merits now."

Several Ming generals in the front row rode large steeds, thrusting their four-meter-long lances from one end of the camp to the other as if they were riding on flat ground.

"Kill!"

"Damn the Ming people! Fight them to the death!"

These Jurchen savages could do nothing but scream and curse; they had no means of resistance. The disparity in equipment was too immense. Hunters were no match for a regular army. The Ming generals and cavalry were clad in fine armor and wielded four-meter lances with half-meter-long blades. The Jurchens, by contrast, carried homemade bows and crudely crafted iron spears. They were simply not in the same league.

...

On a small hill not far behind, the wind whistled, ruffling the robes and hair of the Ming emperors and the crown prince.

"Grandson, why did you intervene?" Zhu Yuanzhang asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shi Baoqi, the fourth-generation ancestor of Nurhaci—who else would he strike? The man looked like a joke, and he had assumed they were just cannon fodder sent by the Jurchens.

Zhu Youjian muttered to himself, then laughed: "How does the saying go? 'Showing off leads to being struck by lightning.' I just thought it would be fitting."

Zhu Yuanzhang shook his head and chuckled. To use such divine power on these savages was truly a waste. Still, it was the mindset of a child.

"Great Ancestor, Ancestor, would you like to try casting the lightning technique yourselves?" Zhu Youjian asked with a smile.

Though only he could use the lightning, he could sense whom the ancestors wanted to strike through the anchors he had placed on them, and could simply strike for them.

Zhu Yuanzhang was about to shake his head with a smile when he suddenly paused, astonished. "What! You want us to use this immortal art?"

"It is to cast it!" Zhu Youjian corrected.

"Then what are you waiting for, you little brat? Tell us how to use it!" Zhu Yuanzhang urged excitedly. Old Zhu Di and Zhu Lao Si stared at him with glowing, expectant eyes.

Zhu Youjian mused, "Focus on the target and recite: 'Avada Kedavra'."

"Good, good, good! Let us try it." Zhu Yuanzhang squinted, locking onto a Jurchen who was fighting a Ming soldier with great arrogance.

He whispered the incantation.

BOOM!

The man was instantly reduced to dust!

Fun!

Zhu Yuanzhang’s smile became increasingly mischievous. He kept chanting the incantation, and the Jurchens were struck down one after another—over twenty had been killed in this short time. The Old Emperor grinned from ear to ear, having the time of his life.

Zhu Di and Zhu Lao Si also struck down a dozen or so, but then stopped because Zhu Yuanzhang scolded them.

"You’re all grown men, in the prime of your youth! If you want to fight the Jurchens, pick up your blades and charge!"

In the prime of my youth? Me?

Old Zhu Di opened his mouth, but yielding to the pressure of bloodline, he could only laugh bitterly and, along with Zhu Lao Si, mount his horse, preparing to charge into the camp to slaughter the enemy.

From afar, their bickering could still be heard:

"It’s all your fault! If you hadn't stolen that kill with your lightning, I could have played longer!"

"Alright, alright, stop splitting hairs. We are one and the same. If you're really that mad at me, just slap yourself a few times to vent." Old Zhu Di gave a guilty, perfunctory excuse.

Behind them, the stout Yongle Emperor stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, his eyes red with envy as he muttered to his two sons, "Wasn't it supposed to be 'Jiji Ru Lüling'? Youjian’s spell doesn't seem authentic!"