“We initially thought Commander Zhu was worried about food supplies, but in reality, that’s not the case,” Hu Wei shook his head emphatically.
“Then what is it?” Zhu Shouren and Xia Qiang quickly asked.
“I’ll give you a hint—the word ‘borrow.’ That’s the key word. Think about it carefully!” Hu Wei reminded them.
“Borrow?” Zhu Shouren was still somewhat confused.
“Borrow? The key is ‘borrow’?” Xia Qiang pondered for a moment, then suddenly looked up, as if he had an epiphany.
“Brother Hu, are you saying that today’s story is about Er Zhu Rong ‘borrowing’ his nephew’s head to train his troops? And in Cao Cao’s story, the key point is that Cao Cao ‘borrowed’ the grain officer’s head to quell the army’s discontent—also borrowing a head.” Without needing further prompting from Hu Wei, Xia Qiang even connected it to Sun Tzu’s story, saying in disbelief,
“So, we also misunderstood the story of Sun Tzu training troops in front of the palace. The key isn’t that Sun Tzu emphasized military discipline, but that he ‘borrowed’ the heads of the concubines to train his troops—also borrowing heads.” Then, suddenly, Xia Qiang thought of something, his face also turning pale, and he was filled with fear.
“Exactly, Brother Xia, you’ve got it,” Hu Wei swallowed hard and said with a bitter smile.
“What do you mean by ‘borrowing heads’? What are you two talking about?” Zhu Shouren, slow to react, didn’t understand what they were saying.
“Sigh, Brother Zhu, how can you still not get it? The common thread in these three stories is borrowing heads. Rather than saying Commander Zhu read three stories, it’s more accurate to say he read one story—the story of borrowing heads!” Hu Wei looked at Zhu Shouren with frustration, sighed, and then said word by word,
“Borrowing heads?” Zhu Shouren raised an eyebrow.
“How can you still not understand? If there’s any lesson to be learned from these three stories, it’s borrowing heads. Commander Zhu also wants to borrow heads. He’s also thinking of using borrowed heads to train his troops, my dear Brother Zhu!” Xia Qiang said, his voice trembling.
“What? You’re saying my nephew is planning to borrow heads to train his troops?! Impossible, absolutely impossible. Don’t talk nonsense. My nephew isn’t that kind of person,” Zhu Shouren shook his head without hesitation, waving his hand vigorously.
“Ha, Brother Zhu, then what kind of person do you think your nephew is?” Hu Wei laughed coldly, his gaze piercing as he looked at Zhu Shouren.
“My nephew is kind, honest, and simple. He’s a lot like my brother—the kind of person who always thinks of others. When he was a child, he never even killed a chicken. How could he possibly borrow heads to train troops?” Zhu Shouren squinted his eyes, reminiscing about the past, and spoke slowly, firmly insisting that Zhu Ping’an wasn’t that kind of person.
“Honest? Simple? Ha, my dear Brother Zhu, your perspective is still stuck in the past, isn’t it?!” Hu Wei’s laughter was more bitter than a cry when he heard Zhu Shouren’s description of Zhu Ping’an as honest and simple.
“What do you mean by that? My nephew is still like that now,” Zhu Shouren frowned.
“Brother Zhu, my dear Brother Zhu, on our way here and in the camp, we’ve all heard stories about your nephew. Let me break it down for you.”
“Your nephew is known throughout the court and among the common people as the ‘Number One Memorial God of the Great Ming.’ First, he impeached a thousand-household officer who had allied with Grand Secretary Yan, resulting in that officer being beheaded and a high-ranking official in the Ministry of War being dismissed. Then, he impeached the case of the Taicang Silver Vault, which even led to Grand Secretary Yan being fined, hundreds of officials being punished, and over a thousand clerks, soldiers, and servants being exiled or executed—so many died on the way to exile that no one could count them all. After that, he impeached a high-ranking official surnamed Gao, leading to twenty or thirty high-ranking officials being implicated, thrown into prison, and suffering fates worse than death. And then there’s Yang Jisheng, who’s become quite famous among the common people recently. When he impeached Grand Secretary Yan, your nephew was also involved. The common folk all say that if Yang Jisheng had listened to your nephew’s advice and revised his impeachment memorial, Grand Secretary Yan would be in prison now, not Yang Jisheng. It was because Yang Jisheng didn’t listen to your nephew’s advice that his impeachment failed, leading to his imprisonment and your nephew’s demotion to a minor county magistrate in the south.”
“Brother Zhu, your nephew’s title of ‘Number One Memorial God of the Great Ming’ is built on a mountain of bones.”
“And then, after your nephew was demoted to a minor county magistrate in the south, how did he manage to rise again, even climbing to his current position as a fourth-rank official? Have you ever thought about how he did it, Brother Zhu?!” Hu Wei pointed at Zhu Shouren’s nose, frustration evident in his voice, as he laid it all out for him.
“My nephew achieved merit, one great achievement after another, and was promoted step by step,” Zhu Shouren replied without hesitation.
“Do you know how your nephew achieved those merits?” Hu Wei pressed. Zhu Shouren scratched his head.
“Let me tell you, Brother Zhu. When your nephew was governing Jingnan County, over two thousand Japanese pirates attacked. Jingnan only had a few dozen soldiers—not even enough to fill the pirates’ teeth. To achieve merit, your nephew treated the common people as expendable, forcing them to defend the city. He issued a kill order: anyone who retreated would be executed. He used the lives of the common people to hold the city, killing over a thousand pirates and even recapturing a neighboring county. You could say he built his great merit on a pile of common people’s heads, allowing him to rise from a seventh-rank county magistrate to a fifth-rank assistant judicial commissioner. Beneath his official hat lies at least several thousand lives, counting both common people and pirates.”
“Let’s not even talk about his achievements in disaster relief. Just look at how he rose from assistant judicial commissioner to acting vice judicial commissioner. Dozens of Japanese pirates landed in Shaoxing and cut through over ten counties and seven or eight prefectures, covering two to three thousand li, leaving a trail of blood. They even reached the walls of the secondary capital, Yingtian, and killed several thousand people right outside the city. No one dared to stop them—neither civil nor military officials. In the end, it was your nephew who, disregarding the lives of his subordinates, drove his soldiers to attack the pirates while they slept, wiping them out.”
“And then there’s the merit your nephew recently achieved during the sea sacrifice. I heard he killed several hundred more pirates. Beneath each of these great achievements lies a mountain of bones. Since becoming an official, your nephew has been responsible for the deaths of at least eight to ten thousand people.”
“Honest? Simple? Never killed a chicken? The phrase ‘killing as easily as cutting grass’ doesn’t even begin to describe him,” Hu Wei counted off Zhu Ping’an’s achievements one by one on his fingers.
“Brother Zhu, you’re the one who’s too honest and simple. You only see the surface of your nephew and fail to recognize his true nature. Before even reaching the age of twenty, he achieved the rare feat of coming first in the provincial, national, and palace exams, earning the title of Zhuangyuan (top scholar). He offended the all-powerful Grand Secretary Yan, yet still managed to rise again and climb even higher. Do you really think someone like that could be honest and simple?” Xia Qiang couldn’t help but chime in as well.
