Chapter Thirty-One: Probing!

A flash of surprise crossed Yang Shiqi’s face.

Since childhood, he had heard countless people praise him. After all, everyone knows how to say pleasant things. But this was the first time he had ever heard someone describe him as having the talent of a prime minister—and from a teenager no more than a dozen years old, no less.

A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and he laughed, "You flatter me too much. I am merely a failed scholar; how could I possibly be worthy of being called a 'ministerial talent'?"

"If I say you have it, then you have it."

Zhu Yuntong sat down across from him and instructed his attendants, "Go and fetch some wine and food. I wish to have a proper conversation with Mr. Yang."

Since they were already in the dungeon, he decided to talk right there. Unlike outside, the dungeon was actually the most private place for a conversation; there was no need to worry about walls having ears or being overheard by outsiders.

A look of deeper bewilderment appeared on Yang Shiqi’s face. The boy was so young, yet his servants were so submissive toward him. If he were just a young master of the household, that hardly made sense. A mere youth would never be allowed by his master to act with such impulsive autonomy.

After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, "May I ask for your honorable name?"

"My surname is Zhu, and my given name is Yuntong."

"You... are you His Highness, the Prince of Wu?"

There could not possibly be a second person with such a name in this world. Anyone who dared to take the same name as the Imperial Grandson would be committing a capital offense punishable by death. Perhaps a villager in some remote, desolate wilderness might take such a name out of ignorance, but such a person would not appear here.

*Clatter.*

The book in Yang Shiqi’s hands dropped to the floor. Panicked, he knelt down. "Commoner Yang Shiqi pays his respects to His Highness, the Prince of Wu!"

"Hahaha!" Zhu Yuntong helped him up. "Mr. Yang, there is no need for such grand formalities. Please, rise."

Yang Shiqi stood up, still visibly shocked and terrified. He had remained calm while in the cell, but hearing the name of the Prince of Wu had truly startled him. After all, Yang Shiqi had never dreamed that, given his status, he would ever meet the Prince of Wu—let alone in this nameless dungeon.

"Why has Your Highness brought me here?" After the initial pleasantries, Yang Shiqi asked the question.

It was not that he was unconcerned or indifferent to his predicament. It was simply that when faced with a dead end, he possessed the self-discipline to clear his mind and avoid useless anxiety. Now that he knew Zhu Yuntong’s identity, his mind became active again, eager to understand the reason behind his capture.

"It is shameful to admit," Zhu Yuntong said. "I had heard of your talents, Mr. Yang, and sent word to my uncle, the Duke of Kaiguo, asking him to help me find you."

"Unexpectedly, he mistakenly thought I had a grudge against you. Once he discovered your whereabouts, he had you seized and thrown into this dungeon. In truth, it was all just a misunderstanding. I am deeply sorry for the fear and distress this has caused you. I offer you my sincerest apologies."

With those words, Zhu Yuntong bowed deeply.

Yang Shiqi opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His shock grew even more intense, no less than when he first heard the prince's name. He had not known this was the dungeon of the Duke of Kaiguo’s residence, as those who captured him had not identified themselves; they had simply put a black bag over his head and brought him here. Hearing this from Zhu Yuntong, he finally understood the sequence of events. From start to finish, it had been a misunderstanding.

He hurriedly helped Zhu Yuntong up. "Your Highness, you are too kind! As long as it is a misunderstanding, it is resolved."

He let out a long breath. To say he wasn't worried about being inexplicably locked in a dungeon would be a lie, but he had managed to suppress it through his profound self-cultivation. Now that he understood the cause, the stone finally fell from his heart.

Immediately, Yang Shiqi asked, "Has Your Highness truly heard of this commoner’s name?"

He was merely a local scholar who had never even passed the provincial examinations. He had not studied under any great masters, nor had he written any famous verses or renowned prose that would have made him known in academic circles. What status did the Prince of Wu possess? How could he have heard of his name?

Zhu Yuntong ordered his servants to leave and guard the entrance, ensuring no one could enter. Only then did he laugh, "If I told you that I possess the ability of divine calculation and foresight, and thus calculated that you would inevitably become a renowned figure in history, would you believe me?"

Yang Shiqi laughed. "Your Highness is truly fond of joking!"

Zhu Yuntong laughed heartily. "See? You don't believe me when I tell you. Then you can just assume that I had a dream where an immortal visited me, and that is how I knew your name."

"I am a man of letters; the Master does not speak of strange occurrences, violence, or supernatural forces," Yang Shiqi said. "It was my own rashness. Since Your Highness does not wish to speak of it, I should not have pressed you."

Zhu Yuntong’s smile faded, his expression becoming serious. "And what if I truly had the ability to foresee some of the great events of the future?"

Yang Shiqi bowed toward the direction of the Imperial Palace. "The current Emperor is not a man who believes in ethereal gods or spirits, nor is he like the First Emperor of Qin or Emperor Wu of Han, seeking elixirs for immortality."

"I have heard that a famous physiognomist once divined the Emperor’s fortune. When the Emperor asked how long he would live, the diviner tried to be clever, saying the Emperor would live but one day longer than he himself. He thought that by saying this, the Emperor would not dare to kill him. Instead, the Emperor immediately ordered his execution."

Zhu Yuntong nodded slightly; he had heard this story too. Old Zhu’s personality was indeed unique. Most people in such a situation would adopt a "better safe than sorry" attitude—after all, believing didn't seem to have any downsides, whereas not believing carried a tiny "risk." Especially when the person was a famous physiognomist whom many claimed to be accurate!

Yang Shiqi continued, "If Your Highness were to tell the Emperor that you know the future, given his temperament, if you were wrong, it would be one thing—at most, he would scold you for dabbling in superstition and falsehoods. But if you were right... I fear the Emperor would interrogate you thoroughly, demanding to know what rebellious schemes you have been plotting!"

"With your intelligence, Your Highness, there is no need for me to explain the gravity of such a situation."

Zhu Yuntong was stunned, unable to help but offer a bitter smile.

Those words just now might have seemed casual, but in reality, they were far from random. Zhu Yuntong had seriously considered that if it became absolutely necessary—if he could not prevent Zhu Yunwen from being named the Imperial Grandson—he would simply reveal his identity as a transmigrator to Old Zhu. He would then verify it by predicting certain events. He wanted Old Zhu to trust him.

Now, it seemed that plan was fundamentally flawed. He only had a vague grasp of the major events and figures of the Hongwu era; he lacked specific details. In reality, there were very few things he could accurately predict. If he were to predict major events and figures, the skeptical Old Zhu would likely conclude that he had colluded with others, secretly manufactured the facts, and was using sorcery to deceive the throne.

Exactly! With Old Zhu’s fearless, godless nature, that was exactly what he would think. He would have been too clever by half and ended up gaining nothing.

Yang Shiqi was incredibly sharp; he had immediately sensed the probing nature of Zhu Yuntong’s words. However, Yang Shiqi must have assumed he was planning to play the part of a sorcerer to deceive the Emperor, hence his earnest warning.

This young man was truly talented! He understood the point immediately, and his brief analysis was incisive. Especially considering Yang Shiqi had never met Zhu Yuanzhang, yet through documents and rumors, he had gained such a profound understanding of Old Zhu’s character. Regardless of his other capabilities, this man was born to be a master of politics!

Zhu Yuntong was increasingly satisfied with Yang Shiqi. At this moment, what he needed most was someone who understood politics—someone who could manipulate it—to assist him. Compared to this, everything else could be put aside for the time being.

"Since you possess such worldly talent, Mr. Yang, you should not be buried among the common folk," Zhu Yuntong said straightforwardly. "My Imperial Grandfather has agreed to let me choose my own teacher. I admire your talent, Mr. Yang, and wish to take you as my mentor. What do you think?"

Yang Shiqi froze, stunned. Even with his cultivation, he was shaken by these words—even more so than when he had first heard Zhu Yuntong’s name.

"Your Highness, you must be joking. What status do you hold? I am but a failed, destitute scholar who hasn't even passed the provincial examinations, let alone a learned master. What virtue or ability do I have to be your teacher?"

Zhu Yuntong’s expression was earnest. "Status and rank are unimportant. I trust you, and that is enough for you to be my teacher."

Yang Shiqi asked, "Is this the Emperor’s will, or yours?"

Zhu Yuntong laughed. "My Imperial Grandfather likely does not know you yet, but he has already given his word, promising me that I may choose my own teacher. If you are willing, I shall formally pay my respects to you as my mentor today."

Yang Shiqi did not answer immediately. After pondering for a long time, he asked, "May I ask, Your Highness... may I refuse?"