Chapter 2: So I’ve Traveled to the Ming Dynasty!

Hearing Lu Xuan inquire about which dynasty he was in, Zhang Liang was now certain beyond doubt: Lu Xuan truly came from the future.

Zhang Liang was silent for a long while, then spoke, “Your wounds are severe. The physician said it’s best for you to rest your mind and spirit, speak little, think less, and focus on recovery.”

“Lie on your stomach, I’ll apply the medicine.”

Before arriving, Zhang Liang had already asked the imperial physician to teach him the use and application of the medicines.

With gentle hands, Zhang Liang fed Lu Xuan the medicinal decoction, then began to apply the salve.

Lu Xuan lay on his stomach, exposing skin that seemed remarkably delicate to Liu Bang and the others—Liu Bang couldn’t help but purse his lips, muttering inwardly: This skin is softer than my wife’s!

Because of his blindness, Lu Xuan felt empty and unsettled, a sense of fear and anxiety gnawing at him. Now, with the person beside him forbidding him to speak or think much, his irritation only grew.

He couldn’t see. He wasn’t allowed to talk.

“Sir, what dynasty are we in now?” Lu Xuan felt the coolness of the herbs on his back and couldn’t help but ask again.

He was desperate to know which era he had landed in.

From the initial terror, uncertainty, and despair when first arriving in this world, Lu Xuan’s mind was now stirring with new, unique ideas.

He was a man from the future, versed in all manner of advanced knowledge, a graduate of history, familiar with the culture, figures, and events of every dynasty.

If this was an ancient dynasty, he might use his skills to carve out an extraordinary path. If it was a fictional realm, never recorded in history, his modern knowledge could still yield him a world of opportunity.

Thus, the urgency to know the current dynasty pressed upon him. These three months of blindness would be unbearably dull otherwise—could he trade his modern understanding for wealth and honor?

It seemed a promising prospect. Since boredom was inevitable, he might as well use his historical expertise to solve his own ennui and perhaps gain much more.

Zhang Liang ignored Lu Xuan’s questioning, carefully finished applying the medicine, and said, “You need your treatment. I’ll get more medicine.”

He left the room, and with Liu Bang and Xiao He, walked some distance before speaking.

“This man from the future has revealed his ambition: he wants to know which dynasty we are in.”

“If we consider it optimistically, he simply seeks to survive in an unknown era. But if we think pessimistically, he might quickly learn the dynasty and use his information to gain advantage, even seize power.”

“He’s already asked me the name of the dynasty. I can’t remain silent forever; that will only raise his suspicion.”

Liu Bang and Xiao He frowned; Liu Bang instinctively stroked his bushy beard. “We can’t tell Lu Xuan it’s the Han dynasty, nor can we say nothing. This is tough!”

“My head is starting to ache!” Liu Bang, famed for his martial prowess, was second only to Han Xin and Xiang Yu as a general during the Chu-Han conflict, and he was deeply skilled in employing talent and trusting his subordinates. Yet, faced with such a dilemma, he was frustrated, uncertain how to proceed.

And now, Lu Xuan’s question demanded a swift answer.

If they delayed, Lu Xuan would grow suspicious.

If they didn’t answer, he’d be suspicious.

If they answered “Han,” they feared Lu Xuan would seek power.

If they said it wasn’t Han, they feared exposure.

Liu Bang felt that even dealing with someone as formidable as Xiang Yu wasn’t nearly as vexing.

Xiao He was also troubled, his fingers gently pinching as he tried to focus and think through the problem.

Suddenly, Zhang Liang smiled. “I have a solution.”

“Your Majesty, what about the Far Eastern tribes?”

The Far Eastern tribes!

Liu Bang and Xiao He exchanged glances, then understood; Liu Bang laughed heartily, “Indeed, Marquis Liu, that’s a clever answer.”

The Far Eastern tribes referred to the Three Han.

The Three Han: Mahan, Jinhan, Byeonhan.

They remained tribal, without unified states or formal dynastic names.

And why not simply call them the Three Han? Because the Three Han bordered the Central Plains, and the Han dynasty intended to absorb them; but they didn’t know if Han had already conquered the Far East, or if a later dynasty had done so.

In this historical flux, the Three Han might have even changed names.

What if the next emperor of Han sent troops and renamed the Three Han? If they told Lu Xuan they were in the Three Han, he’d immediately deduce it was the early Han dynasty.

“In fact, calling it the Far Eastern tribes has another advantage.”

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“Lu Xuan is a man of the future. If he’s ambitious, he’ll want to present his knowledge to Your Majesty.”

“If we claim to be in the Far East, firstly, we avoid the issue of a dynastic name; secondly, if Lu Xuan wishes to be sent to the capital to meet the emperor, we have the excuse of distance to delay; thirdly, knowing he’s far from the center, Lu Xuan will become eager to reach the capital to display his talents, and to achieve this, he’ll continually reveal advantageous policies from future eras, making his abilities clear to us. From Lu Xuan’s perspective, he will certainly do so.”

Zhang Liang’s eyes gleamed, his voice gentle.

Liu Bang stroked his beard, Xiao He nodded; both agreed.

Marquis Liu’s foresight was truly remarkable.

The three carefully reviewed the details, ensuring nothing would slip, then Zhang Liang asked the imperial physician to prepare more herbs, and they returned to the room.

Lu Xuan, meanwhile, was waiting, lying on the bed and listening to the footsteps approaching. He said, “Thank you all. Without you, I wouldn’t be alive.”

“It’s nothing,” Zhang Liang replied, gently applying the warm medicine to Lu Xuan’s back.

After some time, Lu Xuan pondered and asked again.

“Sir... what dynasty are we in now? What is the dynastic name?”

Zhang Liang had already prepared his response; his tone was natural and calm. “I don’t know either. The climate here is cold, we are in the Far East, and we do not know the dynastic name of the Central Plains.”

“We live in the Far East, in tribal form. Our tribe is called: Hei Ge Ba Qi Ge Li Tribe.”

He invented a tribal name.

The Far East during the Xia dynasty was not part of the Central Plains, so it had not adopted their speech.

Because of language barriers, tribal names often sounded strange to Central Plains people.

So Zhang Liang deliberately created a complex, awkward name, lengthening it; he didn’t believe history would produce such a coincidence that his fabricated tribe would actually exist.

“What a bizarre tribal name,” Lu Xuan thought, bewildered. Foreign tribal names were usually long and odd. Though he knew much of Chinese history, he wasn’t an encyclopedia; he couldn’t remember every tribe.

For instance, this Qi Ba Ge Li tribe—he’d never heard of it.

This left Lu Xuan disappointed; he still couldn’t tell if he’d crossed into an alternate history or a legitimate dynasty.

The Far Eastern tribes, through various eras, bore different names: during Qin and Han, they were called Three Han; during the Three Kingdoms to Sui and Tang, names like Silla, Goguryeo, Baekje were used; from Ming onward, they were known as Koreans.

“Perhaps these people simply don’t want me to know which dynasty it is?” Lu Xuan speculated, then probed, “You must know some information about the Central Plains, right? For example... is the founding emperor of the current dynasty someone who rose from obscurity?”

Perhaps due to his failure to visit Ming Xiaoling, Lu Xuan instinctively guessed it was Ming.

At this, Zhang Liang’s hand trembled.

He felt unsettled.

How could he guess so accurately?

The emperor truly did rise from obscurity.

Among the Xia, Shang, Zhou, Spring and Autumn, Warring States, Qin and Han—over a thousand years—only the emperor rose from humble origins to establish a mighty dynasty.

Before Han, the Liu family was insignificant, rarely heard of among noble houses.

Most nobles were from centuries-old families, but only the emperor came from the commoners, a mere petty official, and created the Han.

Lu Xuan could clearly feel the hand on his back tremble; he now had a rough idea and probed further, “I must have guessed right. Let me think—was the empress not from an illustrious family, but still better off than ordinary folk? And her father fled to another land to escape enemies, correct?”

Liu Bang’s beard quivered, clearly unsettled.

Xiao He’s composure vanished, his gentle smile lost.

Their faces changed.

Empress Lü Zhi.

She was not from a great family, but far superior to the commoners.

In the Qin era, the Lü family of Dang County was wealthy, but Lü Gong, the patriarch, offended someone and fled to Pei County, seeking refuge with the magistrate, relocating his family.

The local officials and heroes came to honor the magistrate’s distinguished guest.

It was for this reason that Liu Bang married Lü Zhi.

Lü Gong’s ancestors hailed from Lü State, descendants of Lü Shang, the founder of Qi in the Western Zhou. Yet by Lü Gong’s time, the family was no longer noble, merely well-to-do merchants.

More importantly, the empress’s father fled to escape enemies.

Lü Gong had fled to Pei County for that very reason.

Lu Xuan’s words matched Liu Bang and Lü Zhi exactly.

The atmosphere was silent, but Lu Xuan pressed on to confirm his guess, “The founding emperor must have pacified chaos and unified the realm, right?”

The group was momentarily shaken.

After the chaos at the end of Qin, the feudal lords contended fiercely—a time of utter disorder.

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Though Xiang Yu preceded, he still used the feudal system, not true unification.

Only Han, like Qin, achieved true unity.

All three points Lu Xuan mentioned matched the Han dynasty.

This man from the future was terrifying—could he really guess so accurately?

“You need your medicine. I’ll fetch it for you,” Zhang Liang said, unable to remain composed, using this excuse to draw Liu Bang and Xiao He away.

They couldn’t stay any longer; if Lu Xuan continued probing, their plans would fall apart.

Perhaps matters would revert to the original fear: this man from the future, using his foreknowledge, would dominate the Han dynasty.

The group left.

Lu Xuan’s room was empty again, but his mind was racing.

He had probed gradually, at first only as a test, prompted by his failed visit to Ming Xiaoling.

But observing their reactions, he had found a direction, then narrowed his focus.

At last.

With three trials, he confirmed it.

He had crossed into...

The Ming dynasty!

“The most dignified dynasty, the Ming! I never thought I’d arrive in Ming!” Lu Xuan marveled; he had always preferred the Han, Tang, and Ming, and among them, Ming’s spirit made him proudest.

“My judgment must be correct.”

First: The founding emperor rose from obscurity.

Everyone who reads this thinks first of Ming’s founder, Zhu Yuanzhang: he started with nothing but a bowl, yet established an empire, a feat for the ages.

Only Liu Bang compares, but Liu Bang at least began as a minor official.

Compared to Zhu Yuanzhang, Liu Bang wasn’t truly from obscurity.

Second: The founding empress was not from a great family, but far superior to ordinary folk.

Empress Ma’s ancestors were wealthy in Suzhou, her father Ma lived in Xin Feng Li; due to his charity, the family became poor.

Those who practice charity are certainly above the commoners.

But after years of charity, poverty set in, proving the Ma family was not a great house.

The empress’s father fled to escape enemies.

History records that Empress Ma’s father, Ma, killed someone and fled, entrusting his daughter to Guo Zixing.

Third: Pacifying chaos and establishing a unified dynasty.

At the end of Yuan, the land was in turmoil, warlords seized cities, people suffered, fields lay waste.

It was Emperor Hongwu, Zhu Yuanzhang, who reclaimed the lost lands, defeated Zhang Shicheng and Chen Youliang, and unified the realm.

“But which period of Ming is this? The era of old Zhu? The Jianwen period? Or the reign of the fourth emperor?” Lu Xuan pondered. Since he had crossed into Ming, the next task was to determine the era. Except for the Chongzhen period, that utter disaster, in all other times his modern knowledge could yield him endless benefits.

He could offer historical insight, advanced policies, gunpowder technology, world maps—the list was endless.

“As long as I avoid factional strife, don’t make enemies, and don’t engage in corruption, lifelong prosperity is assured.”

“If it’s Zhu Yuanzhang’s era, it’s best to avoid officialdom.”

Lu Xuan murmured to himself, lying on the bed and planning his next steps.

But why hadn’t these people told him the dynasty directly?

Some unspeakable constraint? Surely not.

His thoughts surged, and Lu Xuan suddenly sat up.

“The Far East...”

“I understand, I understand now.”

“No wonder they didn’t want me to know the dynasty.”

“They must be discontented with Ming!”

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