Chapter 9: Am I Capable of Being a Good Emperor?

To accuse the emperor of being petty was an offense punishable by death. Zhang Yi had only spoken casually just now, but seeing Zhu press the matter, he hesitated and turned his gaze toward his father to seek his opinion.

The emperor also turned to look at Zhang Zhengchang. The others wore strange expressions, all focusing their attention on him.

The head of the Zhang family wished nothing more than to depart this mortal coil and avoid these worldly troubles, yet he had to force a smile and say, “Your Uncle Huang is my closest confidant, absolutely trustworthy! Say whatever you wish!”

“Oh!”

Since his father had repeatedly emphasized Uncle Huang's trustworthiness, there was nothing to fear.

Zhang Yi pondered for a moment, then said, “In truth, every person’s upbringing shapes their entire life, and the character of a founding emperor often shapes a whole dynasty. The current emperor rose from humble beginnings and endured countless hardships to reach his position. He undoubtedly possesses greatness. Yet, the sense of inferiority borne from his original family inevitably affects his manner of rule.”

There was a heavy silence in the room—even Zhu Biao dared not utter a word.

Although the emperor had just declared that Zhang Yi’s words could be taken as the innocent ramblings of a child, or perhaps the utterances of an immortal, to be called “inferior” to his face was a grave accusation, especially in the presence of the emperor himself.

Such defiance, such irreverence…

At this point, not only Zhu himself, but even the guards behind him could hardly contain themselves. They wished only to flee, to avoid hearing such reckless words.

“All of you, leave!” The emperor’s face betrayed no emotion as he waved the guards away.

Relieved, the guards hurried out.

Now, only Zhu Biao and Zhang Zhengchang remained.

“Go on,” Zhu Yuanzhang said, his tone calm, though his heart was far from tranquil. The two words ‘sense of inferiority’ seemed to lay bare the darkness within him that he most wished to conceal. People spoke of what kind of man he was, but who had ever considered that an emperor might also feel lost?

From a penniless beggar to where he stood today—even he found his life’s journey fantastical. In public, he was a sovereign, a father, a husband; never permitted to display his inner frailties to the world. Perhaps only Empress Ma, who had shared all his hardships, could glimpse that hint of insecurity within him.

Even so, she would never mention it for fear of wounding his dignity. And as for others—who could truly understand him?

“These feelings of inferiority stem from his birth. If we speak of the origins of our Ming emperor, there is none like him in all of history. He reads books, hears tales, and finds not a single sovereign whose story is more legendary than his own! Yet such legend only amplifies what lies in his heart—he fears he will not be a good emperor, so he strives all the harder to prove himself to the world…”

Simultaneously, he worries: if he could become emperor, might others begin to harbor ideas they should not?

Zhang Yi cleared his throat and continued, “Such suspicion towards his ministers can lead this emperor to act with a certain ruthlessness. Though his abilities are unmatched, some might say his heart is not broad enough.”

Zhu Yuanzhang instinctively leaned back, his face betraying neither anger nor joy, though a glint of murderous intent flickered in his eyes.

Who would be pleased to have their most unspoken vulnerabilities so openly laid bare? Who among mortals can confront the darkest side of their own heart—let alone a sovereign?

“Immortal Zhang, in the end it seems you blame the emperor for treating the Zhang family so harshly…”

At those words, Zhang Zhengchang seemed to sense the scent of blood in the air and nearly fell to his knees to beg for forgiveness. If not for fear of rousing the emperor’s wrath, he would surely have done so.

In his terror, the old man could only berate Zhang Yi: “You unfilial child! How dare you speak so of His Majesty! If you wish to die, do not drag the Zhang family down with you!”

“Zhang, how can you blame a child for the words of an immortal?” Zhu Yuanzhang had regained his composure. Seeing Zhang Zhengchang stir up trouble, he patted him on the shoulder. Zhang Zhengchang’s face twisted, but he finally suppressed his fear and nodded silently.

“My uncle was wrong,” Zhang Yi said. “I do not think our ancestor blamed the emperor. On the contrary, he hoped the emperor would curb the Zhang family’s arrogance! The Zhang family itself is a small matter, but the interests it represents should indeed be checked. Perhaps, after being reined in, the Zhang family might endure a bit longer. But if we were to receive imperial favor again, we might face ruin.”

Zhang Yi spoke these words from the heart. Though he was but a traveler from another world, he belonged to Dragon-Tiger Mountain.

On that lonely mountain, where he had been so isolated as a child, he still had his parents and siblings.

His elder brother, Zhang Yuchu, never looked down on him for their father's disfavor; instead, he always tried to protect his younger brother with a childlike innocence. His younger brother, Zhang Yuqing, would even take the blame for his mischief when their father punished them.

Though Zhang Yi had never felt true familial warmth from his father, he had experienced it through his mother and brothers. Thus, he was fond of Dragon-Tiger Mountain.

As a traveler through time, he could see the problems inherent within the Zhang family.

His elder brother Zhang Yuchu, destined to be the forty-third Celestial Master and a renowned Daoist in history, would ultimately lose the position to his younger brother Zhang Yuqing. The story behind that transfer was a cautionary tale.

Bringing calamity to the region, punished by the emperor, and ultimately stripped of his title—Zhang Yi could scarcely imagine the brother who had always protected him turning into such a person. Yet, upon reflection, it was not so strange.

Within a hundred miles of Dragon-Tiger Mountain, the Zhang family was as mighty as the heavens themselves.

It is all too easy for men to lose themselves amid such power.

And this was a Zhang family that had already experienced Zhu Yuanzhang’s suppression. Even after that, in later times, a few scoundrels still emerged.

If the Zhang family were to bask in imperial favor once more, might it not degenerate into something even the emperor could not tolerate?

After all, though both were ancient lineages, unlike the Kong family, the Zhangs did not possess an invincible talisman of protection; the emperor might easily replace the Quanzhen sect—why not extinguish the Zhang family altogether?

Zhu Yuanzhang stared fixedly at Zhang Yi, but saw only steadfastness in his expression—he clearly agreed with the ancestor’s view.

The flames of anger in his heart subsided a little.

Yet, he still felt stifled. If Zhang Daoling’s criticism had been born of selfish motives, Zhu would have had somewhere to vent his rage.

But Zhang Yi—or the immortal of his dreams—displayed such selflessness that the emperor found himself unable to strike back.

Fortunately, he did have some measure of magnanimity and managed to suppress his fury.

“So, in the eyes of the old immortal, the present emperor is not entirely without merit!”

“You are mistaken, Uncle Huang. Our ancestor spoke truly when he called His Majesty narrow-minded, but that is only because, due to his origins, the emperor’s thinking still carries traces of the peasant’s mentality.”

Old Zhu’s expression grew more peculiar at this new charge of being a “peasant,” but Zhang Yi continued untroubled, “Yet, aside from the influence of his upbringing, our Ming emperor is truly a great sovereign—worthy of being called a ruler for the ages!”

The phrase “ruler for the ages” was uttered again, and Zhu Yuanzhang’s heart gave a tremor.

Having just been battered by Zhang Yi’s criticisms, he was now handed the highest of accolades. His mood soared and plummeted like a rollercoaster.

Strangely, to receive such praise from a child filled him with a genuine sense of joy and recognition.

“I… truly? Can the present emperor really be a good ruler?” Zhu Yuanzhang did not notice the slight tremor in his voice.