Chapter 3: What Did You Say? The Empress Will Die Before Me?

After thoroughly studying history and analyzing the situation, Lu Xuan’s mind had become clear.

Those who had saved him were now residing in the Far East.

Yet, their accents were unmistakably authentic Central Plains dialects.

It was highly unlikely that these people were native to the Far East and had grown up speaking such pure Central Plains Mandarin; it was far more probable that they were originally from the Central Plains and had been forced to relocate to the Far East.

Forced to the Far East, they resolutely refused to utter the name “Great Ming.”

This reminded Lu Xuan of a historical episode.

In the ninth year of the Longfeng era, between July and August, Chen Youliang and Zhu Yuanzhang clashed at Poyang Lake in what is historically known as the Battle of Poyang Lake. Chen Youliang was struck by an arrow midstream and died.

After Chen Youliang’s death, Zhang Dingbian and others proclaimed Chen Li emperor in Wuchang, changing the era name to Deshou.

The following year, as Zhu Yuanzhang’s forces approached Wuchang, Chen Li surrendered and was granted the title Marquis of Guide.

In the fifth year of the Hongwu era, in the first month, Marquis of Guide Chen Li and Marquis of Guiyi Ming Sheng were discontent and voiced complaints. Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang, upon hearing this, said, “These children’s words are trivial and not worth heeding, but I fear they may be deceived by villains and fail to persevere. It would be best to send them to a distant place so no strife arises and they can be preserved to the end.” Thus, they were sent to Goryeo, where the king was gifted forty-eight bolts of fine silk to ensure their proper treatment.

Chen Li, son of Chen Youliang, was a true native of the Central Plains.

Ultimately sent to Goryeo, which in the Ming dynasty was considered part of the Far East, Chen Li’s historical records reveal deep dissatisfaction with Zhu Yuanzhang. He likely believed his father, Chen Youliang, more deserving of the throne, and despite the Ming unification, harbored resentment and even dared to openly complain.

Zhu Yuanzhang, unwilling to stoop to petty disputes with juniors, nevertheless showed no mercy and exiled Chen Li to this harsh, cold land.

This only deepened Chen Li’s grudge against the Ming and Zhu Yuanzhang.

Now, the few who had saved Lu Xuan spoke flawless Central Plains dialects. They were clearly followers of Chen Li, exiled alongside him to this bitter Far Eastern land, carrying immense resentment which explained their aversion to mentioning the words “Great Ming.”

“So, it’s not that they don’t want me to know the current dynasty’s name,” Lu Xuan reflected, “but that they harbor hatred toward the Ming and despise those words in their hearts.”

“Yet why do they call themselves residents of the Far East rather than Goryeo? Goryeo is a country after all…” Lu Xuan pondered for some time before understanding.

Since ancient times, Central Plains people had despised surrounding ethnic groups. As the saying went, “Heaven is above, earth below; those who live in between are called China, while those at the edges are called the Four Barbarians. Outside the Four Barbarians is foreign land, within is China.” Many Central Plains people looked down on foreign nations, believing they had no right to establish states. Chen Li and his followers looked down on Goryeo, deeming it unworthy of being called a country—calling them simply tribes of the Far East was understandable.

Having sorted out his thoughts, Lu Xuan’s heart sank slightly.

Things were complicated now. He had hoped to meet Emperor Zhu and present ideas and inventions from the future to him, securing wealth and greatness.

But now, stranded in such a godforsaken place, with locals harboring resentment toward the Ming, how could he realize his ambitions?

Even reaching the Central Plains would be a challenge.

Time passed slowly as Lu Xuan sat on the bed, troubled by these thoughts, and yet puzzled.

Why hadn’t the medicine arrived yet?

At the same moment, in the main hall of the Linhua Palace, Lieutenant Zhang Liang wore a grave expression.

“This man from the future is very clever—just three sentences and he has deduced the current dynasty. We must be cautious; we cannot let him hold us hostage. If he confirms we are in the Han dynasty, we will be at a disadvantage.”

“Then, do we heed his advice or not? Do we believe the future history he reveals?”

Liu Bang fretted, “But he has already guessed it’s the Han dynasty.”

“Let him guess,” Zhang Liang replied, “but we must not confirm it.”

“As long as we never say we are in the Han dynasty...”

“Then—”

“A blind man cannot truly be certain of his surroundings based on mere guesswork.”

“From now on, our approach is simple: we continue to inquire obliquely, focusing on good policies, military tactics, and craftsmanship from various historical dynasties, and nothing else. If Lu Xuan brings up royal family matters or ministers, we pretend not to hear and offer no response.”

Zhang Liang’s advice was the best course of action.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

This plan seemed optimal; learning about future treacherous ministers would destabilize the Han court.

The Han dynasty was newly established and inherently fragile.

At this moment, rooting out traitors would harm the foundation.

Moreover, punishing people now for future events? Though the top ministers and emperor believed Lu Xuan was from the future, others might not.

More importantly, if Lu Xuan spoke of internal royal family issues—princes, succession—it would plunge the Han dynasty into chaos.

“Another problem: if he directly asks whether this is the Han dynasty, what should we do?” Liu Bang asked.

Zhang Liang considered, his eyes shining with intelligence. “We do not know the exact future dynasty information, so we cannot say we are a future dynasty, nor can we claim we are a pre-Han dynasty, as that might make the information useless.”

“Here’s what we do: give Lu Xuan a vague answer—say ‘Han is already in the past.’”

“This way, Lu Xuan will know he is not in the Han dynasty, but from our words will deduce he is in a post-Han era. The further the era is from the Han, the more useful the information we obtain for the Han. I believe this is the best answer for now.”

Liu Bang stroked his long beard, sometimes marveling at Zhang Liang’s wisdom and quick-thinking problem-solving skills; it was almost beyond comprehension.

If it were them, making such a reasonable arrangement to avoid trouble might take ages.

“Let it be so.”

“Xiao He, you gather all current problems the Han faces, as well as potential future ones, and give them to Lieutenant Zhang Liang. He will find the chance to question Lu Xuan.”

“I and Zhang Liang will maintain daily contact with Lu Xuan.”

“Also, I plan to involve Chen Ping and the others to extract all the information Lu Xuan possesses within three months.”

Liu Bang looked at Zhang Liang and Xiao He.

Both bowed.

Then Lieutenant Zhang Liang ordered the imperial physician to bring the herbal medicine. “We have delayed too long. Lu Xuan might already be suspicious. Let us continue applying the medicine.”

Just after taking a few steps, Zhang Liang stopped abruptly, turning to Liu Bang, “There is one more thing regarding accent and language. Your Majesty, I did not explain to Lu Xuan how our accent and language differ from those of the Far Eastern tribes.”

“There is an excuse, but we cannot explain proactively, lest Lu Xuan suspect why we are so forward.”

“Wait until he asks. If he doesn’t, we say nothing.”

Liu Bang nodded. Lieutenant Zhang Liang was indeed meticulous, covering every angle.

Calling him was the right choice.

Xiao He had already retired to collect information to question Lu Xuan.

Liu Bang and Zhang Liang returned to the side chamber of Linhua Palace, where Lu Xuan’s small room was.

Zhang Liang personally served Lu Xuan his meal on a tray.

Perhaps no one else in the Han dynasty, not even Liu Bang himself, had such treatment.

Yet the food was meager: half a bowl of millet and two pieces of sunflower greens.

Lu Xuan picked up his chopsticks and spoon, eating slowly. After such a long coma, he was famished.

Taste no longer mattered.

“Goryeo is indeed poor, only two pieces of sunflower greens,” Lu Xuan mused. The truly prosperous period of the Ming was likely under Emperor Renzong and Emperor Xuanzong; during other times, commoners often had poor food. Still, eating millet and sunflower greens in ancient times was quite decent.

After eating his fill, Lu Xuan asked for water to quench his thirst, then said slowly, “I see you bear resentment in your hearts. Why not just tell me?”

“Actually, you are Central Plains people, and your dynasty’s name is ‘Han,’ right?”

Though blind, a smile played on Lu Xuan’s lips. “You think you can hide it from me? Impossible.”

Based on various deductions, he had calculated it all.

Historically, many regimes used “Han” as their name: Liu Bang’s Western Han, Liu Xiu’s Eastern Han, Liu Bei’s Shu Han, Liu Yuan’s Han Zhao, Li Xiong’s Cheng Han, Liu Chong’s Northern Han, Liu Yan’s Southern Han, Chen Youliang’s Chen Han, and others.

Of course, at their times, these regimes were simply called “Han,” without the directional prefixes which were added later by historians for distinction.

Currently, it was the early Ming dynasty.

Mentioning “Han” would inevitably bring to mind Chen Youliang’s Chen Han.

During the late Yuan period, when Chen Youliang established Chen Han, everyone called it simply “Han,” without the “Chen” prefix. In this newly founded Ming dynasty era, mentioning Han would first evoke the memory of Chen Han.

Liu Bang’s face twitched when Lu Xuan spoke the word “Han,” and Zhang Liang lost his composure.

Indeed, this man from the future had already guessed everything.

But they could never admit it outright.

As Zhang Liang had planned, he said gently, “You misunderstand. Our dynasty’s name is not Han.”

“Han is already in the past.”

His voice calm, he struggled to suppress emotion lest Lu Xuan notice.

Lu Xuan, however, detected nothing and only nodded regretfully.

“Yes, Han is truly in the past.”

He understood their complex feelings. Back then, Chen Youliang’s Chen Han might have defeated Zhu Yuanzhang, but ultimately failed.

It was indeed over.

Having reached this conclusion, Lu Xuan was certain his deductions were correct.

Now he must consider how to journey to the Central Plains, to the capital.

“By the way,” he suddenly recalled, “I haven’t asked who exactly are these people caring for me.”

Lu Xuan inquired, and Zhang Liang thought, “The man from the future is starting to ask questions.” He was already prepared.

“We are wealthy residents of Liu Zhang Village. This is my sworn brother of a different surname; these are my close friends. You suddenly appeared in my courtyard that day, severely injured, so I took you in.”

“Our ancestors were from the Central Plains but were scattered here due to war. Some refugees formed small tribes here, preserving the language. Fortunately, the native tribes asked us to spread knowledge, which allowed us to survive.”

“You can call me Uncle Fang.”

“This is Uncle He.”

“And this is Uncle Ji.”

Zhang Liang, fearing exposure, disguised their identities but cleverly split the names and courtesy names of himself, Xiao He, and Liu Bang for ease of memory.

His courtesy name was Zifang, so he called himself Uncle Fang.

Xiao He was addressed by his name only as Uncle He, making Lu Xuan think his surname was He.

The emperor now called Liu Bang had originally been named Liu Ji, now called Uncle Ji to mislead Lu Xuan into thinking Liu Bang’s surname was Ji.

Arranged by age, Xiao He was eldest, then the emperor, then Zhang Liang.

He gave them the titles Uncle He, Uncle Ji, Uncle Fang.

These forms of address were reasonable.

“Thank you all,” Lu Xuan said gratefully. Without their care and rescue, he would likely be dead by now. In ancient times, such kindness was rare.

Many struggled just to survive.

To repay Uncle Fang and the others, Lu Xuan spoke earnestly, “Uncle Fang, Uncles, I don’t know how to thank you, but I have a method that could bring you lifelong wealth and honor.”

Then, as if fearing this secret might be overheard, he reached out, touched Zhang Liang’s and Liu Bang’s shoulders, leaned closer, and whispered:

“I know you may harbor resentment toward the Central Plains dynasty and dislike the emperor. But what does that have to do with you small folk?”

“Glory, wealth, official rank—that is what truly matters. The information I have will definitely be useful to you.”

Liu Bang and Zhang Liang’s faces shifted slightly. Why did these people resent the Central Plains dynasty and dislike the emperor? What useful information did Lu Xuan possess?

Lu Xuan, blind to their expressions, lowered his voice, growing more mysterious.

“You may not know, but the empress has little time left. She will pass before the emperor.”

“The empress has been with the emperor since before he rose in rebellion. They rose from obscurity together, deeply attached—but who would have thought the empress would die before him?”

“I have roughly understood the cause of her grave illness. If you have the courage and resolve, I can prepare some medicine. You buy it and find a way to offer it to the emperor. When the empress’s illness is cured, you will surely enjoy lifelong wealth and glory.”

Upon hearing this, everyone’s expressions stiffened, especially Liu Bang, whose heart trembled as he couldn’t help but ask:

“You said what? The empress is gravely ill and will die before His Majesty?”