Chapter 95: Zhu Biao: Making Money, I Must Save Myself

“I’ve heard you say that the imperial family of our Great Ming is unlike any other dynasty’s—that it’s a rare royal household that still feels like home. Could it be that even the Emperor has such troubles?”

Zhang Yi sneered.

“Brother, you’re foolish. You get all flustered just over Uncle Huang’s small inheritance; how much more so for the throne of Heaven’s Son?

It’s precisely because the one in the palace values family and understands human nature that from the start, he placed all his bets on the Crown Prince, cutting off any hopes from the others.

But no matter what he does, do you think the other princes don’t have desires in their hearts?

Wrong. They simply have no chance, dare not dream, and have resigned themselves.”

Zhang Yi’s words were not meant to slander the other princes. History records clearly enough—for instance, whether Prince Jin Zhu Gang’s alleged rebellion was fabricated or had some truth, and how Prince Yan Zhu Di, upon ascending the throne, dealt with his brothers—one could see that resentment simmered in their hearts.

After Zhu Di took the throne, he slandered Zhu Biao, accusing him of plotting rebellion, claiming the late Emperor favored him over Zhu Biao; such petty grievances abounded.

This shows that although Zhu Yuanzhang suppressed any thoughts of usurpation firmly for the sake of the family, he could not extinguish his children’s thirst for the throne.

If Zhu Di had no intention of rebelling, why keep a monk like Yao Guangxiao, who was always inciting rebellion? Shouldn’t his head have been delivered to the Emperor immediately?

Of course, if not for Zhu Yunwen’s relentless pressure, Zhu Di might not have rebelled. But that was because Zhu Yuanzhang’s arrangements left Zhu Di no opportunity—not because Zhu Di had no desire.

“The Emperor wants harmony in the family and prosperity in all things, that’s true, but he also understands human nature. So from the start, he made sure the other children didn’t even dare to think about the issue. The saying goes, ‘A gentleman judges by actions, not intentions.’ As long as the other princes don’t act, it’s as if they don’t exist!”

“What if the Crown Prince is no longer here?”

Zhu Biao asked the question he cared most about. Zhang Yi was stunned, then said:

“That would be a serious problem…”

Zhang Yi understood that Huang Mu had guessed the Crown Prince’s death, hence the question.

He could not lie; even if brothers quarrel, there is still room to live, but the struggle for the throne is a matter of life and death.

Since Zhu Di entered Nanjing, regardless of his feelings toward Zhu Biao, the bloodline left behind was doomed to tragedy.

Zhu Yunlong’s fate was the best proof.

Zhu Biao was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. His guess was right: his second brother was imprisoned for life, and the one responsible was his own younger brother.

Zhu Xuan? Zhu Gang? Or another brother?

Zhu Biao seemed to see Zhu Yuanzhang helplessly watching his most cherished family fall apart, brothers killing each other.

“Why do you ask so much? You’re just a small merchant—what can you change?”

Zhang Yi, wanting to steer the conversation back to Zhu Biao, showed some displeasure.

“It’s late; you should go back!”

At this moment, Zhu Biao had dark circles under his eyes, his face flushed from drinking, looking unlike his usual self.

Zhang Yi worried he’d had too much, as the liquor he treasured was probably fifty-two degrees strong—no easy drink for someone accustomed to warm rice wine.

Zhu Biao, intoxicated, suddenly grabbed Zhang Yi’s hand.

“What are you doing?”

Zhang Yi was alarmed by Zhu Biao’s fierce expression.

“Let me beg you one more time. I won’t ask about the Crown Prince’s future, but please tell me how to keep her and the child safe. She’s practicing ‘Childbearing Yoga’—can it really help them survive the disaster?”

Zhang Yi was furious. This guy was circling back to Chang’s family again? What business was it of his whether his wife and child lived or died?

But facing a drunk, especially one he had beaten to dark circles who was now clutching his hand, Zhang Yi decided to give in.

After all, he wasn’t truly a match for Zhu Biao. His park-style boxing surprise attacks might work, but a seven-year-old compared to a thirteen-year-old was a whole different level in strength.

“Fine.”

Zhu Biao sighed, then released Zhang Yi’s hand.

“If it weren’t for my antibiotic research going badly, you wouldn’t have anything to worry about…”

Zhang Yi’s hand hurt from the grasp, so he quickly withdrew and rubbed it vigorously.

Zhu Biao’s constant chatter gave Zhang Yi a glimmer of hope.

“Antibiotics?”

Zhu Biao turned back, staring at Zhang Yi intently.

Zhang Yi hesitated, then admitted frankly:

“Yes, antibiotics! You’ve read the ‘Records of Subtle Words,’ haven’t you?”

Zhu Biao nodded, and Zhang Yi continued:

“Parasites, microbes, bacteria, viruses—they all cause disease. Like ‘heavenly illnesses’ caused by viruses, the so-called wind-cold diseases we speak of are also linked to invisible tiny creatures.

In future medical science, ‘wind-cold’ is just a symptom. The causes can be simple exposure to wind, viral infection, or bacterial acute pneumonia…

Antibiotics are, simply put, life-saving medicines that kill certain bacteria!”

“Such medicine could reverse fate?”

Zhu Biao pressed on.

Zhang Yi said, “Not necessarily. There’s no medicine that can overturn fate, but the chances are high!

However, researching this is not as simple as developing inoculation. Otherwise, I’d have made it already. I’m afraid of death too, especially as a child. If I caught a cold and died, who would I complain to?”

In this era, countless people died from infections caused by wind-cold. Zhu Biao understood Zhang Yi’s complaint deeply.

Though Zhang Yi said nothing further, he hinted at his own fate.

He, Zhu Biao, would die of wind-cold infection!

“Antibiotics?”

Zhu Biao was about to leave, but then sat back down.

“Tell me about antibiotics and the difficulties in your research. I will support you fully…”

“Money!”

Zhang Yi glanced at him disdainfully, holding out his hand.

“How about you give me a thousand taels first?”

“What requires a thousand taels for research?”

Zhu Biao’s face flushed as he jumped up, then realized he didn’t have a thousand taels, or rather, no ready silver to give.

A thousand taels was no small sum in the silver-scarce early Ming.

Although Zhu Biao was Crown Prince and theoretically all the Emperor’s wealth was his, giving Zhang Yi a thousand taels would require disturbing the Emperor.

“Heh heh, wait until you’re in charge to brag!

Antibiotic research isn’t easy. I’ve tried countless garlic bulbs but haven’t found the right strain. Penicillin requires filling out the entire technology tree; I haven’t even developed glass technology yet, so how could I create antibiotics?

Finding the right garlic strain is pure luck. Garlic is expensive and logistics are poor. Brother, don’t think my demand for a thousand taels is a scam; it might not even be enough!”

“No matter the amount, I’ll find the money. You make the product, whether a thousand or three thousand taels, I’ll get it for you!”

Zhu Biao’s eyes reddened. No matter how difficult Zhang Yi’s research was, it represented his hope for survival.

Damn it, no matter how enlightened he tried to be, he wanted to live!

No matter the difficulty, he had to get the money!

“Alright, if you can get the funds for my research, we’ll split the profits fifty-fifty. Everyone wins!”

Zhang Yi immediately agreed. Though he sympathized with Zhu Biao’s lowly position, this path looked promising.

He alone had no money or manpower (too young). If the Huang family was worth cooperating with, everyone could profit together!

The antibiotic research was a matter of life and death for him too. He was anxious.

If they could truly develop antibiotics, there might be a chance to change Zhu Biao’s fate.

Although he tried to avoid meddling in historical events, it seemed that applying his knowledge could influence history.

Zhang Yi did not resist such subtle changes.

“Don’t worry about money. I’ll sort it out for you in a few days, but…”

Zhu Biao hesitated, then said to Zhang Yi:

“About the Crown Prince, can you not tell anyone else?”

He said this while cautiously glancing outside, though the guards were clearly not present.

Zhu Yuanzhang could monitor anyone, but he would not spy on his family.

Zhu Biao did not want the Emperor to know about this. The fact that ‘he will die’ was a secret both he and the Emperor suspected but avoided mentioning.

Until he was certain he was truly safe, he did not want to lift this veil with the Emperor, nor face the cruel reality that his father was ready to replace him…

Though this avoidance was foolish, he was just a child.

“Alright!”

Zhang Yi had no idea of Zhu Biao’s inner turmoil; as long as the money came through, that was enough!

With that, the matter was settled.

Zhu Biao rose to take his leave.

“Brother, it’s almost night. Will you make it into the city?”

Zhang Yi escorted Zhu Biao to the door, a flicker of doubt in his heart.

“If I can’t enter, I’ll find a place outside to rest.”

The carriage slowly slipped into the night.

Out of Zhang Yi’s sight, many guards hidden in the shadows gathered.

“Your Highness, this is a sobering soup I found for you, along with some ointment for injuries!”

Before reaching the city gate, the guards had already delivered the soup and medicine.

“The Emperor also sent orders for Your Highness to return to the palace at once!”

Having fought with Zhang Yi and drunk, it was natural for the guards to report back.

Zhu Biao was not surprised; he silently took the soup and ointment, refusing the servants’ help and tending to himself.

The road back to the palace was utterly silent.

Zhu Biao closed his eyes, his mind racing over how to raise money.

Raising a thousand taels for Zhang Yi’s research without alerting his father was so difficult.

For the first time in his life, Zhu Biao was truly troubled by money.

The carriage moved steadily, entering the city and then the palace.

Zhu Biao approached the imperial study. Night had fallen, but the study was brightly lit.

The Emperor was always so busy until late; Zhu Biao felt a pang of sympathy recalling his father’s tireless figure.

He stepped inside and knelt.

“Your son pays homage to his father!”

“Growing up, learning to fight back—aren’t you ashamed?” Zhu Yuanzhang’s voice was calm but edged with anger.

“The key is you haven’t won yet. Look up at me…”

Zhu Biao raised his head to meet his father’s gaze.

An awkward silence filled the study for a moment. Zhu Biao sighed helplessly.

“Father, if you really want to laugh, don’t hold it in and hurt your health!”

A burst of laughter followed.

(End of chapter)