Chapter 133: My Acting Was Far Better Than Yours Back Then!

"Little thing, you’re quite good at hiding, aren't you?"

An old Zhu Di appeared abruptly with a grinning face, holding the Emperor’s Sword against the youth's neck.

The Jurchen youth’s expression instantly turned pitiful. He begged in broken Chinese, "Please, spare me. I am Achina, just a slave, not the master of this house. If you take me in, I am willing to work like an ox or a horse to repay you."

"Oh? How pathetic," old Zhu Di remarked with surprise.

"Yes, yes, exactly!" A glimmer of desperate yearning shone in Achina’s eyes as he nodded repeatedly.

"Well, seeing as you’re just a child," old Zhu Di sighed and shook his head. "You may go."

"But if we meet again, I will not be so merciful."

Old Zhu Di sheathed his sword, turned, and walked out, disappearing at the doorway. Sunlight streamed in across the threshold. The newborn world looked so vibrant!

*Hmph!*

Achina collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air as the adrenaline of his narrow escape wore off. Beneath his gaze lay a nearly insane, burning resentment. He clenched his fists and hissed, "Ming people... Ming people! I will not let you off. I will certainly destroy you! I will wipe out your nation and exterminate your lineage!"

*Thump.*

The light at the doorway was blotted out by a figure. Achina looked up instinctively.

Old Zhu Di grinned. "We meet again so soon."

*Squelch!*

A single strike pierced his throat, the blade sinking in three inches deep. Achina’s head lolled to one side, blood gushing out and quickly soaking the floor. His eyes were wide with disbelief.

*Does this count as meeting again!?*

Old Zhu Di shook his head. "My acting was much better than yours back in the day."

Even when wearing a pitiful expression, Achina’s ugly, triangular eyes remained hideous, carrying a natural air of malice; he might as well have had the word "revenge" carved into his forehead.

Old Zhu Di used his sword to flick a flame onto the house, and it quickly began to burn. As he stepped outside, he suddenly turned to look at the roaring fire, feeling a strange sense of familiarity. He muttered softly to himself, "I wonder, did that nephew of mine actually burn to death back then?"

***

Reuniting with Zhu Lao Si, the two, under the protection of their soldiers, completely obliterated the Jurchen lair. Not a single person or beast was left in the Jurchen Left Guard!

...

One day later. Inside a makeshift imperial tent.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat in a chair, surrounded by the emperors and crown princes of the Great Ming dynasty. The emperors were chatting and laughing, while the crown princes whispered among themselves.

Old Zhu Di walked in, his face weathered by the elements. "Father, the count is in. Eight thousand four hundred heads taken. The Jurchen Left Guard has been wiped out!"

Zhu Lao Si added, "The Jurchen Left Guard had about two thousand three hundred households, and there were only a little over one thousand households present. It seems we’ve finished them off completely."

The Jurchen Left Guard was the ancestral lineage of Nurhaci. Eradicating them at the root could be considered clearing the house for the Tong family, though it was a pity they were all dead and could no longer offer a word of thanks.

Nurhaci could be said to have truly "carried forward" the family legacy: he backstabbed his benefactor, the Wanli Emperor, brutalized the descendants of his master, and left the mysterious deaths of his own father and grandfather unexplained. He had murdered the younger brother he had raised himself, killed his own eldest son, and murdered his elder brother only to marry the widow. He recognized his enemies as his father, fabricated a surname, and forced his ancestors to adopt it. Originally, his ancestors all bore the surname Tong, and he was once called Tong Hachi. Not only did he change his own name to Aisin Gioro halfway through, but he changed his ancestors' names along with it.

Zhu Yuanzhang nodded and commanded, "Sound the retreat and march toward the Jianzhou Jurchen Right Guard."

"Yes!"

Zhu Youjian went to gather the troops, sensing the anchor point he had placed on the cavalryman from the day before. He had no acquaintances in Liaodong, so he had marked the soldier to have him rush ahead to the Jianzhou Jurchen Right Guard. After a night of rapid marching, he should have arrived by now. Glancing briefly at the stationary anchor point, he refocused and began to round up the soldiers.

...

"Damn it, what rotten luck!"

Liu Hu sat in his saddle, chewing on a piece of steamed bread while staring daggers at the several dozen Jurchen horsemen opposite him. His horse shifted uneasily, backing away step by step.

Not far away was the camp of the Jianzhou Jurchen Right Guard. This squad of Jurchens was fully equipped with bows and animal nets; clearly, they were just about to set out for a hunt.

The Jurchens did not act rashly. They pointed their whips at Liu Hu, shouting and screeching incessantly. Liu Hu listened, frowning deeper by the second. He shouted, "Speak human! I don't understand your gibberish!"

The Jurchens looked at each other, then suddenly circled him on horseback. A dozen ropes were thrown from all directions, binding him and his horse tight!

"Hey, you bastards, this is rebellion!" Liu Hu struggled, glaring with fury.

"Ooh-ooh-ooh!"

The Jurchens cackled, dragging him and his horse back to their camp.

A short while later, a burly man reeking of rancid oil walked in, speaking broken Korean.

Liu Hu smiled broadly. "So, you grandson thinks I'm Korean? Can't understand me, huh? Just wait, our Emperor will wipe you all out soon enough."

"Stop your jabbering. I’m just trying to figure out how to kill you first."

The Jurchen shook his head, cursing under his breath as he walked out. Another expressionless old Jurchen walked in and kicked him. "You can speak the language of the Great Ming."

"I can speak plenty of big lies, too!" Liu Hu bared his teeth.

The old Jurchen was clearly stunned. He had understood the words, but not the meaning. Frowning, he raised his cane and struck Liu Hu across the face. "The Ming Emperor sent you, didn't he? Where is the imperial decree? Hand it over."

The Haixi Jurchens were currently uniting with the Huligai tribe and parts of the Jianzhou Jurchens to raid supplies along the Ming border. For the Ming Emperor to send someone here at such a time—was he supposed to go to the Liaodong camp for "education" like Dongshan, only to be beheaded?

"Are you out of your mind? I told you, I am here on the secret decree of His Majesty to plow through you Jurchen barbarians and exterminate your entire kind!" Liu Hu grinned, glaring at him intensely. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth; he spat out a glob of blood and spoke without hesitation.

"Nonsense!"

The old Jurchen pressed his staff against Liu Hu’s chest, pushing it down slowly, and hissed, "Give us your Ming Emperor..."

"Who is looking for the Emperor?"

Zhu Youjian’s figure appeared abruptly in the room. The nauseating smell of rancid oil hit him, causing him to frown instinctively. He looked up to see a gaunt, withered old Jurchen prodding Liu Hu with a wooden stick, leaving the poor kid with a mouth full of blood.

Without a word, Zhu Youjian sent a small bolt of lightning, leaving the bewildered Jurchen even more stunned.

"Your Majesty!"

Liu Hu lowered his head in shame. He hadn't expected that while he was just eating bread and singing, he would suddenly be ambushed by Jurchens—it was embarrassing just to talk about it.

"You're not bad, kid, charging into a Jurchen camp all by yourself. You saved us the trouble of laying siege." Zhu Youjian patted his shoulder with a smile. "Go ask your Emperor for a reward later."