Chapter 38: Back from the Brink of Death!

Cracking open the wax seal, a jet-black, lustrous pill appeared, exuding a rich medicinal fragrance that made one’s mouth water involuntarily.

“Elixir of immortality!” Old Zhu Di’s eyes went wide, his mouth smacking with desire. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He pulled over his virtuous grandson standing nearby and, smiling broadly, said, “Come here, Zhanji, open your mouth—ah~”

“Ah!” Zhu Zhanji obediently opened his mouth, and the pill shot straight in.

Old Zhu Di watched closely for a while. After confirming there was nothing amiss, he impatiently cracked open another An Gong Niu Huang pill for himself. The moment he swallowed it, he felt his whole body grow lighter, as if he had returned to his prime.

“Everyone, please wait for a moment. I must visit the Hongwu era and bring Great Ancestor here,” Zhu Youjian said, raising his hand. Instantly, the hall fell silent. Even old Zhu Di sat upright, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Zhu Gaochi and Zhu Zhanji exchanged glances, each seeing panic in the other’s eyes. The Yan branch had risen to power through rebellion; though old Zhu Di seemed to have weathered that ordeal, for these two, meeting Zhu Yuanzhang was still like entering a den of demons.

“Zhanji, my eyes seem to be blurry. Come help me take a look,” Zhu Gaochi quickly said, half-covering his face.

Zhu Zhanji dutifully turned his back to the crowd, speaking with concern, “Where, Father? Let me blow on it for you!”

“Cowards, the both of them,” muttered old Zhu Di, at a loss.

Zhu Youjian shook his head with a wry smile, then vanished from the Chongzhen throne.

...

The fifteenth year of Hongwu.

First day of the fifth lunar month.

The capital of Yingtian was in chaos. Palace maids and eunuchs hurried back and forth, a tense and grim atmosphere pervading every corner.

Kunning Palace.

The fierce, domineering roar of Ming’s founding emperor, Zhu Yuanzhang, thundered through the Forbidden City:

“Quacks, nothing but quacks!”

“A mere fever, and you call it incurable? If anything happens to my grandson Xiongying, I’ll have you all executed for fraud!”

Over thirty imperial physicians, along with a dozen famed doctors from the city, knelt trembling, cold sweat soaking their robes, not daring to breathe.

“Useless! The whole lot of you!” Zhu Yuanzhang bristled, glaring at those who claimed to be the Hua Tuo of their age, then stormed into the inner hall.

The physicians cried out in shock, “Your Majesty, you mustn’t! The crown prince’s fever is highly contagious—your imperial person must not be exposed!”

“Out of my way!” Zhu Yuanzhang, in a rage, would hear none of it. Besides, Empress Ma, Crown Prince Zhu Biao, and Princess Consort Lü were all inside; he had nothing to fear.

He flung open the palace doors.

...

“Father!” Zhu Biao stood at the bedside, eyes red and swollen, haggard beyond words, and managed a feeble bow.

Empress Ma’s face was drained of color. Her trembling hands kept trying to feed water to the barely-breathing child, Zhu Xiongying, though most of it spilled from the boy’s lips, soaking the blankets.

Without turning, Empress Ma kept murmuring, “Chongba, the imperial physicians say there’s nothing more to be done. Whether this child survives now is up to fate. Don’t trouble the doctors further—if they cannot save your grandson, you can’t have them all executed.”

Zhu Yuanzhang fell silent for a moment, then changed the subject, asking the crown prince, “Where are those Miao, Mongol, and famed folk doctors? How much longer until they arrive?”

“The earliest will take three more days,” Zhu Biao replied, hesitating before finally asking, “Father, has the great-grandson from the Chongzhen era visited the Hongwu court lately?”

Empress Ma’s hand paused, her eyes lighting up as a surge of energy straightened her posture. She grabbed old Zhu’s hand, pressing anxiously, “Yes, the great-grandson is a divine being—he must have a way to save Xiongying! Chongba, do you have any means to summon the great-grandson?”

During this time, old Zhu hadn’t boasted of any visits. She had already guessed the great-grandson hadn’t come; otherwise, given old Zhu’s nature, he’d have gone on about it for at least two hours, describing the marvels of his day with a celestial being.

So she asked only whether he had any way to find this miraculous great-grandson.

Zhu Yuanzhang opened his mouth, then muttered gloomily, “No.”

At this, Empress Ma sighed and returned to the bedside, while Zhu Biao’s expression dimmed.

Princess Consort Lü, eyes brimming with tears, sobbed, “The crown prince and I have always done good—we’ve never committed evil. Xiongying is so young—how could he be struck by such a dreadful illness? My poor child, oh…”

“You’ve suffered during these days,” Zhu Yuanzhang said, glancing at her with a sigh.

After Chang Yuchun’s daughter passed away, Lü was established as crown princess three years later, becoming the nominal stepmother of Zhu Xiongying and Zhu Yunshuo.

All these days, she had kept vigil by Zhu Xiongying’s bedside, anxious day and night, fearful that... that the child’s illness would suddenly improve.

“It’s what I should do,” replied Lü, forcing out tears and playing the part of the loving mother, though inwardly she was secretly overjoyed: her own son, Yunwen, now had a real chance at the throne.

Since Chang’s death, Zhu Biao had been preoccupied with court matters. The young Zhu Yunshuo had been raised by her, and under her careful ‘nurturing,’ had become arrogant and vicious—a complete write-off.

This angered Zhu Yuanzhang to no end.

But Zhu Xiongying, though also young, was under the close watch of Zhu Yuanzhang, Empress Ma, and others. His every need and lesson were fit for an emperor, leaving Lü without opportunity.

To her, Xiongying’s fever was a gift from Heaven. If all went smoothly, her own son Yunwen would inherit the title of crown prince—and become future Emperor of Ming.

Suddenly—

A cheerful voice rang out in the hall.

“Great Ancestor… is this Xiongying?”

Zhu Youjian had just appeared and was momentarily stunned, surveying the scene. Judging by the timing, this must be the day Zhu Xiongying was supposed to die.

“Great-grandson, you’ve finally come!” Zhu Yuanzhang exclaimed, rushing forward to seize his hand and drag him to the bedside. Rubbing his palms in anxiety, he pleaded, “Can you save Xiongying?”

...

Empress Ma quickly stepped aside, so nervous she could barely stand, murmuring, “Great-grandson, take your time—there’s no rush.”

Zhu Youjian studied the child carefully but saw nothing he could discern. Still, he offered reassurance, “Let me try.”

With that, a glossy, aromatic black pill appeared in his hand—the enhanced An Gong Niu Huang pill, famed for its life-saving powers against fever and poison. Even at a glance, it was clearly no ordinary medicine.

Once the pill entered the child’s mouth, Xiongying’s fever faded swiftly, his breathing grew steady, but he showed no sign of waking.

Even Zhu Yuanzhang grew anxious. Princess Consort Lü, more anxious still, craned her neck, jaw clenched so hard it seemed her teeth would break. Yet she dared not intervene, lest she draw everyone’s ire.

After all, she had seen with her own eyes this dragon-robed man materialize out of thin air—she could only hope this so-called immortal was not quite so miraculous.

“Why hasn’t the child woken up?” Zhu Yuanzhang fretted, “Summon those imperial physicians inside.”

The doctors hesitated, pushing one another forward. Only after a scolding from old Zhu did they finally approach, trembling, to feel the boy’s pulse.

“Huh! The crown prince’s fever has broken?”

“Physician Liu, don’t be ridiculous—let me check. With such a high fever… wait, it really is gone!”

Several more physicians examined the child, and soon their faces broke into delighted smiles. Bowing in unison, they declared, “Congratulations, Your Majesty! The crown prince is blessed by Heaven. He is out of danger and will fully recover with a few months’ rest!”

“Why hasn’t he woken?” Zhu Yuanzhang frowned.

“Your Majesty, after so many days of fever, the crown prince is exhausted and has simply fallen into a deep sleep,” Physician Liu replied.

Zhu Youjian felt embarrassed—this child had a big heart indeed. Even with the highest ranks of the Hongwu court gathered around, he could still sleep so soundly.

“Everyone may withdraw,” Zhu Yuanzhang said, his brow finally relaxing as he waved them away. His heart, at last, was at ease, and he said nothing about rewards.

The physicians, having survived with their lives, weren’t about to ask for any reward—they knew full well that old Zhu would give them an earful: “Xiongying was cured by my great-grandson’s immortal pill—what did you quacks do? Still want payment? Count yourselves lucky I don’t have your heads. Out, all of you, out!”

Soon after—

Zhu Xiongying, a boy of about eight or nine, fluttered his lashes and opened his eyes, his voice weak as he said, “Grandpa Emperor, you’ve come.”

He greeted Empress Ma, Zhu Biao, and Lü in turn. Though he didn’t know who the dragon-robed stranger was, he nodded politely to Zhu Youjian—a model of obedience and sense.

Lü was left utterly hopeless, managing only a few forced words of congratulation before claiming exhaustion and withdrawing.

...