Chapter Twenty-Seven: Crown Prince Yiwen, Zhu Biao

After confirming that "bean pox" was indeed smallpox, Zhang Bo gave the man a long, searching look. A modern person would surely have said "smallpox"; only someone from ancient times would use the term "bean pox." This made the man’s true identity highly suspicious.

In ancient times, if one contracted smallpox, they could only rely on sheer endurance and fate. But now, a turning point had arrived. Zhang Bo could provide antibiotics. While they could not cure smallpox itself, they could suppress subsequent bacterial infections, thereby improving the patient's survival rate—and perhaps, just perhaps, save the man’s son.

Zhang Bo did not continue the conversation, waiting quietly for his guest to finish eating and pay. Only upon payment could he confirm which dynasty the man hailed from. Though the man looked melancholy, he ate with great speed; it was evident he had been starving for some time. Soon, the large bowl of noodles was completely finished.

The man reached into his sleeve, pulled out a stack of paper currency, and placed it on the table.

"Innkeeper, thank you for the hospitality."

With those words, the man turned to leave. Seeing him move, Zhang Bo hurried over to the table, picked up the currency, and nodded repeatedly. His guess was correct: the man was indeed from the ancient world. The banknotes were clearly inscribed with "Great Ming Circulation Treasure Note." This man was a famous figure from the illustrious Ming Dynasty.

"Sir, wait a moment."

Zhang Bo’s call made the man turn back. "Innkeeper, is the payment insufficient?"

Now that he knew the man was from the ancient world, Zhang Bo no longer cared about the payment. This was an opportunity to start cross-border trade.

"No, no. I only wish to ask: what year is it now?"

The man looked stunned, clearly finding the question incomprehensible. How could anyone not know the current year? Nevertheless, after a brief silence, he answered.

"It is the fifteenth year of the Hongwu reign of the Great Ming."

The fifteenth year of Hongwu—the era of the Ming Dynasty’s founding emperor, Zhu Yuanzhang.

Zhang Bo’s mind raced, searching through the fragmented information he had seen in short videos about the fifteenth year of Hongwu. Two major historical events immediately came to mind: the death of the Imperial Grandson, Zhu Xiongying, and the death of Empress Ma. The man before him was a historical titan, and his son had smallpox. Zhang Bo instantly made the connection: Zhu Biao, the Crown Prince of the Great Ming.

"Are you Zhu Biao, son of Emperor Hongwu, Zhu Yuanzhang?"

"You recognize me, innkeeper?" A look of surprise flickered across Zhu Biao’s face.

Seeing him admit it, Zhang Bo took a deep breath. He never imagined he would meet such a person today. Zhu Biao was arguably the most stable crown prince in history—stable in the truest sense, with no suspicion between father and son, no rift between brothers, and no hostility between the monarch and his subjects.

The head of the civil officials, Li Shanchang, was the Crown Prince's Junior Preceptor; the head of the military, Xu Da, was the Crown Prince's Junior Tutor; Chang Yuchun was the Junior Guardian; Feng Sheng was the Right Administrator of the Crown Prince’s household. With figures like Deng Yu, Tang He, Liu Bowen, and Song Lian serving as his advisors, the fact that Zhu Biao shared the same roster of talent as his father was proof of his extraordinary status. He was a natural-born heir.

Yet, just as the eldest son of Qin Shi Huang, Fusu, was killed by a forged decree, and Emperor Wu of Han’s crown prince, Liu Ju, died by suicide due to the witchcraft scandal, and Emperor Taizong of Tang’s crown prince, Li Chengqian, was deposed for rebellion—the succession of Ming Taizu Zhu Yuanzhang also faced a tragedy.

Zhu Biao, whom Zhu Yuanzhang had groomed for twenty years, died of illness in the twenty-fifth year of Hongwu. Since his eldest son, Zhu Xiongying, had already passed away in the fifteenth year of Hongwu, the throne eventually fell to the famous Jianwen Emperor, Zhu Yunwen. This led to the well-known Jingnan Campaign, the ascension of the Yongle Emperor, Zhu Di, and the dawn of the Yongle Golden Age.

Sometimes, Zhang Bo felt pity for Zhu Biao. It wasn't because the Yongle Emperor failed—he compiled the great canon, sailed the seas, campaigned in Annam, and conquered the north; he could easily rank among the top ten of the 494 emperors in Chinese history. But if Zhu Biao had ascended the throne—this "Executive Deputy Emperor" groomed for twenty years, working in tandem with generals like Lan Yu and his own brother Zhu Di—the Ming Dynasty might have been different.

"Your eldest son, Zhu Xiongying, has contracted the bean pox, has he not? I believe I may be able to treat him."

The look of astonishment on Zhu Biao’s face deepened. He had come to the Linggu Temple in Yingtian Prefecture to pray for his son. Having gone without food, he had stopped at this eatery, and now the owner not only seemed familiar with him but knew his son’s name—and, most importantly, claimed to be able to cure the bean pox. How could this be possible? Even the top imperial physician, Dai Shigong, was helpless against this malady. Was it truly possible for this humble eatery owner to have a cure? Yet, a flicker of hope ignited in Zhu Biao’s heart.

If this man could truly heal him, Xiongying would be saved.

"Innkeeper, are you speaking the truth?"

Zhang Bo pondered for a moment before nodding. "Yes, though I must say there is only a certain probability of success." He decided to be cautious. If the treatment failed and the old Emperor Zhu came charging in with his army, what would he do?

"A certain probability?" Zhu Biao murmured. Without treatment, Xiongying would surely die. With treatment, there was a chance. Zhu Biao made his decision in an instant. "Innkeeper, what kind of miraculous medicine is it that can treat the bean pox?"

"Your Highness, please wait a moment. I shall return shortly."

Zhang Bo went into the back, rummaged through his cabinets, and returned with two boxes of pills, handing them to Zhu Biao. The prince took them, staring at the strange packaging with growing curiosity.

"Pen... spore... Innkeeper, these are the two medicines?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Both are to prevent secondary bacterial infections. In addition to taking these, you must ensure he eats high-protein foods—eggs and dairy products, for example—to boost his physical resistance."

Though Zhu Biao did not understand terms like "bacterial infection" or "high protein," he memorized the words "eggs" and "dairy." Seeing the solemnity with which Zhang Bo gave these instructions, Zhu Biao’s heart stirred. This man was so professional; perhaps there really was a chance to save Xiongying.

Zhu Biao bowed deeply to Zhang Bo. "Innkeeper, if this truly saves Xiongying, I shall reward you handsomely."

"Your Highness, there is no need for such formalities. Regardless of whether the Grandson recovers, I hope you will visit my eatery again."

"I shall!"

With that, Zhu Biao took his leave. Zhang Bo saw him to the door of the farmhouse, watching him disappear down the road before turning back inside.

"Zhu Di, I’m sorry!"