Chapter 54: The Eighth Year of Chongzhen!

For a moment, the two emperors stared at each other.

The entire world seemed to fall into an instantaneous silence.

Standing nearby, Yan Yi and Sang Hongyang looked upon this bizarre scene, completely unable to comprehend why those two men did not bow to His Majesty.

At this moment, Liu Che did not know the identity of the person before him, but he could feel a vague, ineffable aura emanating from him.

Dominance.

Interesting.

The corners of Liu Che's lips curved upward as he spoke.

"Ju'er, who are these two?"

Liu Ju cast his gaze toward Yan Yi and Sang Hongyang standing beside Liu Che, pondered for a moment, and finally uttered three words.

"Father Emperor, Ming."

Ming?

That Great Ming dynasty which would rise a millennium after Western Han?

Were these two men from the Ming dynasty?

No, not simply men of the Ming dynasty.

Liu Che looked Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao up and down, finally locking his gaze onto Zhu Yuanzhang.

"Yan Yi, Sang Hongyang, withdraw for now. The Crown Prince and I have matters to discuss."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

As Yan Yi and Sang Hongyang departed, Liu Che looked at Zhu Yuanzhang, who stood behind Liu Ju, and slowly spoke.

"May I ask how you are addressed?"

"Zhu Yuanzhang, the Hongwu Emperor of Great Ming."

***

In the agritainment resort, after Zhu Yuanzhang and Liu Ju departed, Zhang Bo went to the garage, intending to drive his elderly mobility scooter into the county town to purchase a batch of daily necessities.

Just as he drove the scooter out of the garage, he noticed an extra person standing in the courtyard.

Clad in a cyan long robe with a black square headscarf, an elderly man of about fifty or so was staring blankly and intently at his vegetable plot.

Such attire, such appearance.

Could this be another ancient person?

Zhang Bo was immensely curious as to which prominent historical figure this might turn out to be.

He opened the door of the mobility scooter and leaped down.

The noise created by Zhang Bo's movements successfully drew the other's attention.

However, the man's focus was clearly not on Zhang Bo, but rather on the elderly mobility scooter behind him.

Zhang Bo cleared his throat, preparing to follow his usual routine.

First, trick the visitor into coming in and spending money, then determine their dynasty from the currency they used to pay.

To Zhang Bo's surprise, the visitor spoke first.

"Shopkeeper, this eatery of yours must have opened quite recently, hasn't it?"

How did he know?

Could he be a local villager rather than an ancient person?

"My friend, I wonder how you came to know that."

"Because I live nearby, so I am somewhat familiar with the surroundings."

Living nearby?

It seemed he truly was a villager.

Although Zhang Bo had grown up in Qingxing Village, during the years he had been away, the village's tourism industry had developed rapidly, bringing many unfamiliar faces to the area. It was entirely normal not to recognize this person.

"May I ask how to address you, Uncle?"

"The shopkeeper may simply call me Chang'geng."

Chang'geng?

It didn't ring any bells.

"And might I ask your surname, Uncle Chang'geng?"

Although the old man felt a slight sense of oddity, considering he would soon need a favor from the other, he stated his surname.

"Song, the Song of the Northern and Southern Song dynasties."

Song Chang'geng?

At this, Zhang Bo was certain.

The person before him was indeed a local of Qingxing Village.

Compared to Liu Che, Liu Ju, Huo Qubing, the Liu-Guan-Zhang trio, and Old Zhu's father-and-son duo, he genuinely had no impression of the name Song Chang'geng.

"Tell me, Uncle Chang'geng, you shouldn't be a native of this village, right?"

"Indeed. I am a scholar who arrived here to teach some time ago."

Ah? A scholar?

Were there primary schools near Qingxing Village?

He had only been back for a month, and having spent his days busy with renovations, he hadn't paid much attention.

Was the village developing too quickly?

Besides, a teacher is a teacher, what on earth is a "scholar" supposed to mean?

"Uncle Chang'geng, it's just our own people here, there's no need to speak in such archaic, literary terms. It sounds rather awkward. Shall we go over there to talk in detail?"

"That would be excellent."

A quarter of an hour later, the two sat opposite each other.

Song Chang'geng gazed at the tea Zhang Bo had brewed, his eyes completely captivated by the glass cup.

An inconspicuous eatery like this actually possessed glassware of such quality.

It seemed even superior to the glassware crafted by the Falanji and Taixi people.

He only wondered how the tea contained within such glassware might taste.

With this thought, Song Chang'geng picked up the glass cup from the table, blew gently across the rim, and took a few light sips.

Splendid. Truly fine tea.

"Uncle Chang'geng, which subject do you teach? Chinese? Mathematics? English? Judging by your scholarly appearance, it must be Chinese without a doubt. Am I right or wrong?"

Listening to Zhang Bo's endless chatter, the hands with which Song Chang'geng held the glass froze mid-air.

Chinese, mathematics, English—he had never heard of a single one of them.

What he taught were the Four Books and Five Classics, alongside the method of the Eight-Legged Essay.

"Shopkeeper, none of those. My task is to instruct the students."

?

Zhang Bo was somewhat baffled.

What kind of academic discipline was a "student"? He had never heard of it.

Just as Zhang Bo was pondering what a student might be, Song Chang'geng spoke.

"Shopkeeper, I have a question, and I wonder if you might resolve it for me."

"Uncle Chang'geng, why stand on such ceremony? Speak freely if you have questions."

Since they were both from the same village, mutual help was only natural.

"I wish to ask, shopkeeper, what might that peculiarly shaped vehicle of yours be?"

Hearing this question, Zhang Bo's expression turned stern.

He began to re-evaluate the Song Chang'geng before him.

"Might I ask what the current era's reign title is?"

Now it was Song Chang'geng's turn to be baffled.

Why would the shopkeeper before him ask such a rudimentary question?

"Could it not be the eighth year of Chongzhen?"

Good grief, Zhang Bo inwardly exclaimed.

He had almost been bluffed by the man.

He had initially thought him to be a resident of Qingxing Village, but he turned out to be a person from the Chongzhen era of the Ming dynasty.

The eighth year of Chongzhen...

Was that not merely nine years away from the fall of Great Ming!

Oh, right, since Zhu Yuanzhang, the founding emperor of Ming, was right here, what was there to fear?

The current Great Ming possessed founding giants like Xu Da, Li Wenzhong, Tang He, and Feng Sheng; even Lan Yu, who would later conquer the northern deserts, wouldn't rank high among them.

Although in the eighth year of Chongzhen the Great Ming was setting like the sun in the west, to Old Zhu, who had risen from a beggar, Chongzhen's predicament could only be described in a few words:

Never had there been such a magnificent opening hand.

Wait.

Zhang Bo suddenly realized something.

He had previously fabricated the future of Great Ming for Old Zhu, and now the genuine future was standing right before Old Zhu. Wasn't that like Li Gui meeting Li Kui?

Barely any time had passed before the boomerang came back to strike him.

What a disaster.

What kind of situation was this?

Forget it, he might as well ask Zhu Biao, his proxy in the Hongwu court, for his thoughts.

Should they help or not?

Helping would naturally bring joy to all; the founding Ming saving the declining Ming should pose no problem, and presumably they could even launch a counter-offensive against Huang Taiji.

If they chose not to help, it didn't matter; he would handle it himself.

One more temporal realm meant one more source of revenue.

However...

Zhang Bo's gaze finally landed on Song Chang'geng before him.

Why on earth would the proxy from the Chongzhen era be such an unremarkable scholar?

Shouldn't they all be historically renowned figures?

Zhang Bo found it difficult to understand.

"Shopkeeper, shopkeeper, what is wrong with you?"

Song Chang'geng's voice pulled Zhang Bo back to reality.

"Oh, oh, where were we just now?"

"We were discussing what that peculiar vehicle might be."

"Ah, that's an elderly... electric four-wheeled vehicle."