The thick white mist continued to rise, obscuring the houses in and out of sight. The entire Liu Miao village seemed to have ascended to fairyland. Only the attic of the Liu scholar's house at the east end of the village could still be seen faintly.
Everyone in the village knew that it was the Liu family's young lady's embroidery pavilion. Rumor had it that this young lady was proficient in poetry, calligraphy, music, chess, painting, calligraphy, and needlework. Not only was she famous in the surrounding ten villages, but she was also renowned throughout Yanzhou Prefecture.
However, Zhu Xiaosong's thoughts were not on this Liu family young lady.
Having just transmigrated, he found his supposed father had been lying in bed for over half a month and was on the verge of not making it. It was unlikely anyone would be thinking about the Liu family young lady at such a time.
Zhu Xiaosong sighed slightly, and casually added a few more pieces of firewood to the stove. His eyes were vacant as he stared at the medicinal pot on the stove, his mind churning with how to get his hands on some money in the shortest possible time.
He had transmigrated too late. If he had transmigrated to the Tang Dynasty, he could have sold poems for money. If he had transmigrated to the Song Dynasty, he could have sold ci poems. Even if he had transmigrated to the Ming Dynasty, he could have copied a few poems and ci poems to sell.
Selling poems for money was the fastest and most stable way to earn money. Other methods like salt production or glass blowing not only earned money slowly but also carried significant risks, and were far less stable than selling poems.
Unfortunately, he had transmigrated to the Qianlong Emperor's reign, during the "Ten Complete Victories" period of the Manchu Qing Dynasty. The few poems he could have copied to earn money had already been written by someone surnamed Nalan. Zhu Xiaosong had nothing to copy, even if he wanted to.
As for earning money by working, Zhu Xiaosong hadn't even considered it. After all, the fastest ways to earn money were all written in the criminal code. He had never heard of anyone becoming rich overnight by working.
Furthermore, it had only been a short time since the Ming Dynasty lost its empire. He, Zhu Xiaosong, had not yet participated in the struggle for power. Why should these Jurchens have a firm grip on this prosperous land?
Earning money, getting medicine, rebelling, and other miscellaneous thoughts flashed through Zhu Xiaosong's mind. A fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth, holding a dipper, walked over and hesitated, saying, "Big Brother? We're almost out of flour... In a few more days, it will be time to pay the rent."
Zhu Xiaosong suppressed the urge to cut off the queue on the boy's head and said, "Use it all. Make a pot of gnocchi soup. Later, your second brother and I will go chop more firewood and exchange it for some flour. We'll talk about paying the rent later."
The youth, however, said, "After spring, it will be time to pay the taxes for the ninety-fourth year of Qianlong. But it's only the forty-ninth year of Qianlong..."
Zhu Xiaosong grunted and waved his hand, saying, "Alright, I'm aware of this. You go ahead and make the meal quickly."
The youth responded, tightened his worn jacket, and was about to turn to the outdoor shed to start a fire and cook when he heard someone call from outside the door, "Dad! Big Brother! I'm back."
The old man on the sickbed was startled awake and coughed urgently, asking, "Is it Er Dan back?"
Zhu Xiaosong grunted, patted the old man's chest to help him breathe, and said irritably to the outside, "Why aren't you freezing to death, you silly bear! Hurry into the house!"
Zhu Er Dan replied with an "Aye," shouldering the firewood and pushing open the door. He quickly closed it after entering and asked the old man on the bed, "Dad, how are you feeling today?"
Before the old man could answer, Zhu Xiaosong interjected, "Dad's body is fine. You hurry up and unload the firewood, wash your hands, and warm yourself by the fire. Wait for third brother to finish cooking and serve the meal."
Zhu Er Dan nodded, unloaded the firewood, washed his hands, then fished out a piece of salted vegetable from the pickle jar and said, "I'll add some pickled vegetables. When the weather improves at noon, I'll chop some firewood to sell, to get another prescription for Dad."
The old man on the bed shook his head and said, "No need. With that money, save it well. You'll need money to get married later. As for Dad... cough! Cough! Forget it."
Zhu Xiaosong frowned, "What kind of talk is that? If we're sick, we treat it. We can't just watch you struggle like this! Don't worry about the money, Dad. I'll figure something out."
The old man shook his head, looked at Zhu Xiaosong, and smiled weakly, "Dad knows his own body. I can't hold on any longer."
After speaking, the old man weakly raised his hand to stop Zhu Xiaosong, who was about to speak, and said, "Call Second and Third over. Dad has something to tell you."
Seeing his supposedly cheap father's face suddenly flush slightly, Zhu Xiaosong's heart sank. He did as he was told and called in Second and Third.
The old man looked at Zhu Xiaosong, then at Second Zhu Er Dan and Third Zhu San Shun, and suddenly laughed, saying, "Your mother left early. Dad hasn't had much ability in this life. All I have left is this dilapidated house. And you three are of age to get married, but Dad couldn't find wives for you."
Zhu Xiaosong said, "There's no rush to get married, Dad. You focus on recovering. When you're better, I'll find a way to earn money, and then all three of us brothers will get several wives and have a bunch of kids. You'll have to help me look after them then."
The old man coughed twice and forced a smile, "You're just talking nonsense!"
After speaking, the old man looked up at the ceiling. After a long while, he said, "There's something that Dad originally intended to take to the grave... cough! cough! But, Dad thought about it and felt he should tell you."
The old man withdrew his gaze from the ceiling and looked at Zhu Xiaosong, Second, and Third again, whispering, "Remember this, Eldest, your real name should be Zhu Zhongruo, not Zhu Xiaosong. Zhong from 'bozhong,' and ruo with the radical for wood and the character 'ruo' signifying presence or absence."
"Second, your real name should be Zhu Zhonghu, not Zhu Er Dan. The radical for wood with the character 'hu.' And Third's real name should also be Zhu Zhongduo, not Zhu San Shun. It's the radical for wood with the character 'fang' representing a house."
Zhu Xiaosong looked up in astonishment and asked, "Zhu Zhongruo? Dad, what do you mean?"
The old man coughed several times, nodded reluctantly, took out an object from his embrace and handed it to Zhu Xiaosong. After coughing a few more times, he said, "The Great Ming, Emperor Yizong of Ming, Emperor Yizong Lie, is your seventh-generation ancestor."
Speaking of this, a trace of bitterness appeared at the corner of the old man's mouth. He sighed, "Zhu Zhongruo, hah, Zhu Zhongruo. The ancestors were weak! Dad originally planned to take this secret to his death, but..."
"Our Zhu family has had few descendants. It wasn't until your generation that there were three brothers like you. But Second is brave but foolish, lacking calculation. Third is good at studying, but he only knows how to study rigidly. If he were to pass the imperial examinations and become an official, I'm afraid this secret would be exposed sooner or later. At that time, not only would Third's official career be ruined, but it would also become a death sentence for you three brothers."
"After Dad is gone, you three brothers should just live anonymously. Third, don't think about taking the imperial examinations and becoming an official anymore. Don't even think about becoming rich and noble."
"Eldest, you are the most steady among your three brothers, but Dad can see that you are also the most ambitious."
"After Dad dies, you must take good care of them. Endure it a little longer, and don't have any improper thoughts."
Zhu Xiaosong held his cheap father's hand and replied earnestly, "Dad, don't worry, I will take good care of Second and Third, find them wives, and let them live good lives."
The old man grunted. The unnatural flush on his face became more pronounced, and his spirit seemed to improve considerably. He even hummed a little tune, "Sing of Fengyang, talk of Fengyang, Fengyang was originally a good place. Ever since, ever since a Zhu emperor appeared, nine out of ten years are droughts..."
Zhu Xiaosong looked at this cheap father who had only been called "Dad" for one day and was now completely gone. His heart felt as if it had been trampled by tens of thousands of mythical beasts, leaving him in utter chaos. Even Zhu Er Dan and Third were stunned, and for a moment, the three brothers forgot to mourn their father.
After a long while, Zhu San Shun mumbled, "Big Brother? Dad's matter..."
Zhu Xiaosong stood up with red eyes and said solemnly, "Cremate Dad. Don't bury him for now, we'll take his ashes with us."
Second immediately became anxious and exclaimed, "No! Our father has sons, he's not an orphan or a solitary grave dweller. How can he not be buried in the ancestral grave? Won't outsiders laugh at us!"
Third also looked astonished and asked, "Big Brother? You're not letting our father rest in peace, and you're going to cremate him and take him with us? You! This is great filial impiety!"
Zhu Xiaosong looked at Zhu Er Dan and Zhu San Shun and retorted, "Ancestral grave? Where is our ancestral grave? Is it here in Yanzhou Prefecture, or Fengyang? Or even Shuntian Prefecture?"
Sensing the meaning behind Zhu Xiaosong's words, Third couldn't help but frown, "Big Brother, the Great Ming has long since fallen! Do you still want to overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming? Isn't it better for us to live anonymously as Dad said!"
Second also chimed in, "Yes! Emperor Qianlong... Qianlong is not someone to trifle with. Even if you want to overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming, shouldn't you at least discuss it after burying Father!"
Zhu Xiaosong let out a cold laugh and said, "If we bury our father now, do you intend to dig him up and grind his bones to dust when the Jurchens arrive? Let's cremate our father first, and when we drive away the Tartars, we'll bury him gloriously in the imperial mausoleum in Shuntian Prefecture."
"Also, you ask me why I have to rebel? And you ask me if it's not good to live? Then I'll tell you, of course it's good to live. Even ants know how to survive. Who would want to die if they could live?"
Zhu Xiaosong paced to the door, pushed it open, and looked at the faint morning sun that had just appeared outside, saying, "But, tell me, living like that, without any dignity, even worse than a dog, is that... still called living?"
I could have endured the darkness, had I not seen the light.
Those who have seen the light cannot endure the darkness.
A person accustomed to unrestrained writing cannot tolerate literary inquisition, where writing a sentence like "a heart judged by turbidity and Qing" could lead to execution.
A person accustomed to standing tall cannot tolerate the oppression of the Jurchens, who were cowardly dogs to the outside world but rode on the heads of the common people to urinate and defecate internally, and could not bend their knees.
Why must one rebel?
Does one need a reason to rebel after transmigrating to the Qing Dynasty? This is bullshit, isn't the reason of not wanting to wear a pigtail and walk around enough? Is the reason of not liking to wear a pigtail and show off on the street enough?
Of course, people like Yehenara Ying wouldn't think of rebelling. People like Qingchuan, who transmigrated for thousands of years just to deliver goods, wouldn't rebel either, because they were the beneficiaries.
But! Was he, Zhu Xiaosong, a beneficiary? Not at all! On the contrary, Zhu Xiaosong was the biggest loser of benefits in the world!
Must there be a tragic family extermination case to have sufficient reason to rebel? Are the Eighty-One Days of Jiangyin, the Ten Days of Yangzhou, the Three Massacres of Jiading, and the final Massacre of Datong, where only five people survived, enough to be tragically bitter! Are the people of Sichuan, whom the Qing women in their hearts longed for, massacred by Haoge but blamed on Zhang Xianzhong, not bitter enough!
After a moment of silence, Zhu Xiaosong continued, "Even if we are willing to live anonymously, as long as even a tiny bit of news about the names Zhu Zhongruo, Zhu Zhonghu, and Zhu Zhongduo leaks out, we will only have death as our fate!"
"Remember this, if you want to prevent even a tiny bit of news from leaking out, either all three of us brothers die, or this secret simply stops being a secret. Otherwise, we will always have to live in constant fear."
Therefore, even without mentioning darkness or expelling the Tartars and restoring China, Zhu Xiaosong had no other choice but to rebel.
Zhu Xiaosong took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Second said one thing correctly just now, which is that it's naturally not enough for the three of us to rebel."
"However, with scholar Liu, it might be different."