Chapter 30: Crescent Moon Poem

"Although Hu Weiyong was a high-ranking chancellor, he may not have been of critical importance in Zhu Yuanzhang's heart. I don't know if there is a connection, but history's assessment of Zhu Yuanzhang is mixed, and a large part of that has to do with his slaughter of the founding fathers," Yue Qianling said thoughtfully.

I pondered her words. The text carved into the stone wall, while concealing the correct numbers of the magic square, clearly alluded to major events in Zhu Yuanzhang's life. As Yue Qianling noted, although Hu Weiyong was the head of all officials, his achievements were not particularly distinguished; he really didn't amount to much in Zhu Yuanzhang's mind. Why, then, was he singled out in the text?

I slowly raised my head and asked pointedly, "In what year did Zhu Yuanzhang execute Hu Weiyong?"

"The sixth year of the Hongwu era! After the Hu Weiyong case, Zhu Yuanzhang began his purge of the Ming Dynasty," Yue Qianling replied.

"The sixth year of Hongwu... six years, it's six!" I exclaimed in realization. "The true meaning behind this phrase left by Zhu Yuanzhang is not just about killing Hu Weiyong, but that in his heart, the Great Ming entered a new era starting from the sixth year of Hongwu."

The result was as I had deduced; stepping onto the square marked 'six' left me unscathed. I breathed a sigh of relief. With only two phrases left, the stone door opposite was getting closer.

"Alas, the self-reproach provoked the wrath of heaven."

"Self-reproach—in ancient times, this meant blaming oneself, and since Zhu Yuanzhang was an emperor, he should have issued an Edict of Self-Reproach," I said, surprised.

"The problem is... if I recall correctly, there is no record of Zhu Yuanzhang ever issuing an Edict of Self-Reproach in the History of Ming," Qiunuo said, shaking her head.

"And the latter part, 'provoked the wrath of heaven'—given how much Zhu Yuanzhang cared about the Imperial Seal, it is clear his belief in the divine right of kings was deeply rooted. 'Provoked the wrath of heaven'—what did he mean by that? Did he think heaven was against him?" I asked, deeply puzzled.

"Logically speaking, Zhu Yuanzhang went from a beggar to an emperor; his life was smooth, and heaven seemed to treat him well. What did he have to complain about?" Xiao Lianshan said dismissively. "He got everything he could possibly get; what was there to be dissatisfied with?"

"Right... Lianshan's words remind me: what could have left him so dissatisfied that he would recklessly complain about the heavens?" I muttered, frowning.

"If that's the case, it's hard to say. Everyone has their regrets in life. Even an emperor can't have everything he wants. Who knows what he was struggling with?" Gu Anqi complained.

"Under the whole heaven, all is the king's land. Everything was in his hands. Why would he fret over trivial matters? It must have been something he was powerless to change, something he couldn't solve with his own authority," Qiunuo mused.

What could an emperor be unable to solve? I suddenly thought of Wu Zetian, the woman who defeated everything with time. My eyes lit up and I said loudly, "It's time! The only thing Zhu Yuanzhang couldn't control was time. 'Provoked the wrath of heaven'—he felt the time heaven left him was too short. The hero in his twilight years... he wanted his legacy to last for generations, haha."

"Even if he felt he didn't have much time, what does that have to do with an Edict of Self-Reproach?" Gu Anqi asked.

"The hero in his twilight years... it means Zhu Yuanzhang felt his time was running out. The 'Edict of Self-Reproach' issued at that time..." Yue Qianling suddenly looked up, excited. "It's not an Edict of Self-Reproach; it's a Last Will and Testament!"

Qiunuo realized it immediately and asked, "Do you remember the content of Zhu Yuanzhang's last will?"

"I have held the mandate of heaven for thirty-one years, with worries and dangers accumulated in my heart, working diligently and tirelessly for the benefit of the people. Yet, rising from humble beginnings, I lack the profound knowledge of the ancients; my ability to cherish good and hate evil has not reached far. Now that I have attained the natural principles of all things, what is there to grieve? The Imperial Grandson Yunwen is benevolent, wise, and filial; the hearts of the people turn to him. He should ascend the throne. Civil and military officials, both inside and outside, should work together to assist in governance to bring peace to my people. For funeral rites and sacrificial offerings, do not use gold or jade. The mountains and rivers of the Xiaoling Mausoleum should remain as they are; do not alter them. Officials and commoners of the world shall mourn for three days, then remove their mourning clothes; do not hinder marriages. The princes shall remain in their fiefs; do not come to the capital. For those not covered in this order, follow these instructions." Yue Qianling recited it word for word.

"So the next number is hidden in the last will, but what does it mean?" Gu Anqi asked, bewildered.

I repeated the text to myself, then slowly shook my head. "The 'wrath of heaven'... it's not the content of the will; it's the time—the time Zhu Yuanzhang wrote his last will!"

"Zhu Yuanzhang wrote his last will in the thirty-first year of Hongwu," Yue Qianling thought for a moment before saying loudly. "It's seven. The number is seven. Zhu Yuanzhang was exactly seventy years old in the thirty-first year of Hongwu!"

Xiao Lianshan stepped carefully onto the square marked 'seven', and sure enough, he was unharmed. Everyone saw the stone door opposite was now within reach, and their faces lit up with joy.

The final phrase was: "There is also clear light spreading across the nine provinces."

Unlike the previous six phrases, this one was carved alone on a separate wall, indicating its extraordinary nature.

"Why was this phrase carved separately?" Gu Anqi asked, puzzled.

"Because this phrase is different from the previous six," Yue Qianling said firmly.

"Qianling, what's different?" Xiao Lianshan asked.

"The previous six phrases were all related to Zhu Yuanzhang's life, but this one is not. It wasn't even written by Zhu Yuanzhang!"

"Not written by him? If he didn't write it, why carve it here? Who wrote this?" Xiao Lianshan asked three questions in a row.

"This is the 'New Moon Poem' by the Yuan Crown Prince," Qiunuo said calmly. "He was the last crown prince of the Yuan Dynasty. After being overthrown by the Ming, he became the emperor of Northern Yuan, later known as Emperor Zhaozong of Yuan."

"Zhu Yuanzhang built the Ming Fourteen Tombs; why would he carve an enemy's poem here?" Gu Anqi asked in surprise.

"Qiunuo, what is the background of this Yuan prince?" Xiao Lianshan asked.

"Emperor Zhaozong of Yuan didn't achieve much politically, but he loved Buddhism, calligraphy, and painting. His mastery of Han culture was quite profound. Besides being able to write the bold and vigorous calligraphy style of Emperor Huizong of Song, he could also write Han-style poetry. Most of his poems were lost, and only the 'New Moon Poem' survives today," Qiunuo said, reciting the poem:

"Last night, the fishing hook was lost at Yanling,
Who moved it to the top of the emerald clouds?
Though it has not yet achieved a full-moon shape,
Its clear light still spreads across the nine provinces."

"Since Zhu Yuanzhang carved a line of this poem here, to understand his intention, we must first understand the meaning of the poem," Yue Leiting said, looking back at Yue Qianling. "A thousand days of raising soldiers for a single moment of use—you've studied until you earned your doctorate, it's time to put it to use. Haha, explain to your father what this poem means."

"‘Though it has not yet achieved a full-moon shape, its clear light still spreads across the nine provinces.’ The implication is very clear: although the Great Yuan Empire has lost its position as the ruling power of all China, the clear light of the 'new moon'—the Northern Yuan regime—still claims to be the Great Yuan. In the northern grasslands, the northeast, and Yunnan in the southwest, the rule of the Yuan Dynasty continued," Yue Qianling replied calmly.

"This poem has the aura of an emperor, but if placed before Zhu Yuanzhang, it would be considered rebellious. How could he tolerate such a poem and even have it carved here?" Gu Anqi asked, deeply confused.

By now, everyone was standing on the square marked 'seven'. Looking at the remaining text, only one more step was needed to exit. Now, the available squares in front were 'two' and 'nine'. This meant the number hidden in this phrase was either two or nine.

I remained silent. Yue Qianling thought for a moment and said, "Zhu Yuanzhang had three great regrets in his life: one, not obtaining the Imperial Seal; two, not being able to force Wang Baobao to surrender; and three, this Yuan prince who wrote the poem. Zhu Yuanzhang always believed that as long as the Yuan prince wasn't captured, it didn't mean the Yuan Dynasty had truly perished. There cannot be two suns in the sky; the Northern Yuan was always a thorn in Zhu Yuanzhang's side."

"Could it be that Zhu Yuanzhang carved the Yuan prince's poem here with a simple intention? Even if the Yuan prince was just lingering on, he was still a ruler of a fallen state. Zhu Yuanzhang wanted him to guard his Ming Fourteen Tombs, watching his Great Ming Dynasty grow stronger until it finally destroyed the Northern Yuan," Qiunuo pondered.

"I think so too. This act by Zhu Yuanzhang might be a warning: the world was not yet unified, and there was still a Northern Yuan stirring," Yue Qianling nodded.

"The world was not yet unified... there were two regimes!" Gu Anqi said, ecstatic. "It's two! The number hidden in the final sentence is two!"

"Yes! The world divided into two—it really is two!" Yue Qianling laughed in realization.

Xiao Lianshan, hearing that the number had been deciphered, lifted his foot to step over, but I grabbed him. Instead, I stepped into the square marked 'nine'.

The deduced number should have been two, and seeing me stand on the square marked 'nine', Yue Qianling and the others were terrified. It was too late to stop me, but to their surprise, after a minute, I remained unharmed.

"Haha, I knew it wasn't two. It had to be nine."

"W-why is it nine?" Yue Qianling felt her deduction couldn't have been wrong.

"It's very simple," I said easily. "'There is also clear light spreading across the nine provinces'—the word 'nine' is right there in the poem. Did we need to think about anything else?"

"I-is it that simple?" Gu Anqi asked, dumbfounded.

"Of course it's not simple!" Qiunuo walked over, still shaken. "The last sentence was carved separately on the wall for a reason. Zhu Yuanzhang was naturally suspicious. The final step could have been two or nine. He left text clues; if one interpreted them literally, they would fall right into his trap. Because no one would believe Zhu Yuanzhang would reveal the real number so plainly in the text, he did the opposite. Only those who truly understood him would grasp his intention—those would be his descendants. Anyone else who entered, even if they reached this point, would be misled. Zhu Yuanzhang’s schemes were so deep!"

The stone door was pushed open by Liu Hao's men. Yue Leiting stood at the entrance. When I lit the whale oil inside, his mouth slowly fell open; he couldn't believe his eyes.