Year 12 of Yongle, September. Beijing.
I discovered something: Zhu Zhanji, on the surface, was as warm and smooth as jade, but deep down, he was subtly mischievous.
It started on the third day after the Great General fully recovered.
That afternoon, I was squatting in the side room changing the water for the Great General when he suddenly appeared at the door. In his hands, he held a small green porcelain dish containing several slices of apple cut extremely thin.
"Does the Great General eat fruit?" he asked.
"Occasionally, a little bit. Did you cut these?"
"Mm."
I glanced at the apple slices. The knife work was exquisite; the thickness was uniform, the size consistent, and they were arranged neatly.
"Your knife skills are quite good."
"This Prince has practiced," he said with a straight face.
Behind him, Eunuch Li silently opened and closed his mouth. I later found out—he hadn't just "practiced"; the night before, he had ruined six apples, cutting them either too thick or too thin, getting so angry he nearly threw the knife away. He had gotten up before dawn today and only felt satisfied after cutting the third apple.
I didn't know any of this; I just thought the Crown Prince's fruit-cutting skills were indeed impressive.
I placed the apple slices into the Great General's jar. The cricket immediately crawled over, hugged a slice, and started gnawing on it.
Zhu Zhanji squatted beside me and watched for a while, then suddenly said, "Song Yu'an, do you know how to fight crickets?"
"No. I'm a veterinarian, not a beast tamer."
"Then you teach This Prince how to raise crickets, and This Prince will teach you how to fight them."
I thought for a moment: "Deal."
The days of teaching and learning passed quickly.
In the mornings, I taught him how to judge a cricket's health by its chirp.
"A crisp sound with an even rhythm indicates good health. If it's hoarse or irregular in speed, it needs checking."
He listened carefully and nodded: "Noted."
Then he let out a chirp at the Great General: "Ji—"
"...What are you doing?"
"This Prince is imitating it."
"You don't sound much like it."
"How so?"
"Too fierce. The Great General sounds better than you."
He was silent for a moment, then tried again: "Ji~~" This time he dragged out the tail end, twisting the tone several times, sounding like he was singing opera.
I squatted on the ground laughing: "Your Highness, are you calling a cricket or performing Kunqu Opera?"
"With a straight face, he replied: "This Prince calls this being multi-talented."
In the afternoons, he taught me how to use the tan tong (cricket probe). The probe was a long, thin bamboo stick with mouse whiskers wrapped around the tip, used to guide the cricket's direction.
He stood behind me, his fingers gently resting on my hand to adjust the angle.
"Lighter," his voice came from above, warm and gentle. "The probe shouldn't be too heavy, or the cricket will hide. But not too light either, or it won't pay attention to you."
My ears felt a bit hot. I obediently returned my focus to the Great General.
"Understood."
I tried again; the force was just right. The Great General moved forward two steps following the direction of the probe.
"Good." He released his hand and stepped back.
Eunuch Li, watching from the side, saw it clearly—Zhu Zhanji's ear tips were red, though he hadn't noticed it himself.
That afternoon, while I was feeding sheep's milk to "Huang Tuan" (the puppy), Eunuch Li hurried over with a subtle expression.
"Miss, the Prince of Han has arrived. His Highness requests your presence in the front hall."
"Me?" I was stunned. "I'm not the main character; what am I going there for?"
Eunuch Li lowered his voice: "His Highness says he wants you to watch a 'play'."
"...Watch what play?"
"You'll know when you get there."
In the front hall, the Prince of Han, Zhu Gaoxu, sat with his legs spread wide, holding a cup of tea. He took a sip and wrinkled his entire face: "The tea in the Eastern Palace is still so weak. It tastes like plain water."
Zhu Zhanji sat opposite him, unhurriedly pouring himself another cup: "If Second Uncle doesn't like it, I can have someone brew a stronger pot."
"No need." The Prince of Han put down his teacup, his gaze burning intensely. "I came today because I heard your Great General has recovered?"
"Thanks to Second Uncle's blessings, it has."
"Then what are we waiting for?" The Prince of Han pulled a cloth bag from his sleeve and threw it onto the table with a clatter of metal. "One hundred taels. Want to bet?"
Zhu Zhanji glanced at the bag but didn't reach for it. He simply smiled slightly: "If Second Uncle is in the mood, Your Grandson will accompany you." He paused, his tone leisurely: "However, Your Grandson has a small condition."
"What condition?"
"If Second Uncle loses, lend me a person. There is a horse in Grandfather Emperor's Imperial Stables named 'Zhui Feng' (Chasing Wind) that has bad teeth. I heard Second Uncle's府 (mansion) has a groom who specializes in treating horse teeth. I'd like to borrow him for a few days."
The Prince of Han blinked: "Just that?"
"Just that."
"Done!" The Prince of Han slapped his thigh. "If I lose, I'll lend you the man. And if I win—"
"If Second Uncle wins," Zhu Zhanji picked up his teacup and gently blew away the foam, "Your Grandson will give the Great General to Second Uncle."
The Prince of Han's eyes lit up instantly: "Do you mean it?"
"The Son of Heaven does not speak in jest—although Your Grandson is not yet the Son of Heaven."
"Deal!"
The Prince of Han walked out happily, his steps as light as if he had found money.
I hid behind a folding screen, hearing every word of this conversation clearly.
Watching Zhu Zhanji's back, a sudden thought occurred to me: This person knew from the very beginning that he would win.
In the courtyard, a fighting basin had already been set up.
It was a wide-mouthed, shallow blue-and-white porcelain basin. The bottom was covered with a layer of fine white mud, gleaming with a cool luster under the autumn sun. On either side of the basin sat a cricket probe, and several eunuchs stood nearby, not daring to breathe loudly.
The Prince of Han summoned his cricket from its jar, his voice loud enough for half the Eastern Palace to hear.
It was a large cricket with a green head and purple shell, a full size larger than the Great General. Its entire body was glossy, its antennae thick. As soon as it entered the basin, it began to chirp—a sound loud and urgent, like drumming.
"See that?" The Prince of Han叉ed his waist. "This one is called 'Purple Overlord'. It came from Shandong, cost one hundred taels of silver! How much did you buy your Great General for?"
Zhu Zhanji brought out the Great General and gently placed it in the basin.
The Great General was entirely ink-green, its six legs firmly supporting its body. It leisurely circled the basin once. Compared to the "Purple Overlord," it looked like a scholar strolling through a garden.
"It didn't cost anything," he said.
"Didn't cost anything?" The Prince of Han laughed loudly. "Then what do you have to compare with me?"
Zhu Zhanji smiled but said nothing.
I stood at the back of the crowd, my fingers unconsciously gripping my sleeve cuff tightly.
He seemed to sense my gaze; he turned his head slightly and glanced at me. That glance was so quick that if I hadn't been staring at him, I would have missed it. But he did look at me.
Then he turned back, his fingers lightly resting on the probe.
"Begin."
The two crickets faced off in the basin.
The "Purple Overlord" attacked first, opening its mandibles and lunging fiercely at the Great General. The Great General dodged sideways, causing the opponent to miss completely. The movement was clean and crisp, as if practiced thousands of times.
Missing its attack, the "Purple Overlord" became impatient and charged again. The Great General dodged once more, this time without even shaking its antennae.
"What's wrong with yours?" The Prince of Han shouted anxiously. "Why is it running?"
Zhu Zhanji remained unhurried: "Second Uncle, don't rush. This is just the beginning."
When the "Purple Overlord" charged for the third time, the Great General didn't dodge. Instead, it met the attack head-on, its mandibles precisely locking onto the joint of the opponent's front leg.
A faint "click" sounded, exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard. I held my breath.
The Great General was smaller but faster. The "Purple Overlord" was stronger but half a beat slower. The two crickets tangled in the basin, advancing and retreating, chasing and fleeing, a dazzling spectacle.
"Get it! Bite it!" The Prince of Han slammed the table, shouting.
Zhu Zhanji said nothing, only occasionally using the probe to gently guide the Great General's direction. His fingers were steady, his expression calm, but his gaze never left the fighting basin.
After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the "Purple Overlord's" movements began to falter. Its attacks became fiercer but increasingly chaotic. After missing several times, it crashed into the basin wall with a dull thud.
The Great General, however, grew steadier with each exchange. Every time the opponent charged, it accurately found the angle to counterattack, as if it had seen through every move in advance.
Suddenly, the Prince of Han stood up: "Stop!"
Everyone froze.
"A halftime break," the Prince of Han wiped the sweat from his forehead. "My cricket is tired."
Zhu Zhanji raised an eyebrow slightly: "Second Uncle, there is no rule for a halftime break in cricket fighting."
"I'm setting the rules today," the Prince of Han said righteously. "What, are you afraid?"
Zhu Zhanji glanced at him and smiled: "Second Uncle has the final say."
He guided the Great General to the edge of the basin. The cricket settled down quietly, its antennae twitching slightly, as if resting, or perhaps waiting.
Taking the opportunity, the Prince of Han leaned close to me and whispered: "You're a veterinarian. Take a look. Is my cricket not in good condition?"
I glanced at him, then at the "Purple Overlord" in the basin.
"Your Highness," I also lowered my voice, but my tone was serious. "Your cricket isn't in bad condition. Its fighting style is being countered."
"Countered?"
"The Great General predicts its every move. Your cricket is strong, but every time it charges, the Great General uses its own force against it. This isn't a stamina issue; it's—" I searched for the right words, "—a tactical issue."
The Prince of Han's face turned black.
"Then what do I do?"
I thought for a moment and whispered: "Let it rest a bit. Don't rush to attack. Wait for the Great General to make the first move."
The Prince of Han looked at me skeptically, then returned to his position.
"Continue!" he shouted.
This time, the "Purple Overlord" didn't rush to charge. Instead, it slowly circled the Great General.
The Great General also turned half a circle, then suddenly stopped.
The two crickets faced off; neither moved first. The air in the courtyard seemed to solidify. I could hear my own heartbeat.
Suddenly, the Great General took a step forward. The "Purple Overlord" immediately retreated—but it retreated too hastily, its hind legs slipping on the muddy bottom of the basin.
In that split second.
The Great General pounced fiercely, its mandibles locking tightly onto the "Purple Overlord's" front leg. Using the momentum, it flung its entire body—
The "Purple Overlord" was flipped over onto the edge of the basin, its six legs kicking wildly in the air, unable to right itself.
The Great General stood in the center of the basin, its antennae held high, letting out a crisp, loud "Ji—". The sound echoed through the autumn courtyard.
Silence. Deathly silence.
Then—
"Good!!!"
I couldn't help myself; I shouted and clapped my hands.
Everyone turned to look at me. The Prince of Han's face was as black as the bottom of a wok.
Zhu Zhanji's lips curved upward slightly—only for an instant, before quickly returning to calm.
"Second Uncle, thank you for yielding."
The Prince of Han stared at the overturned "Purple Overlord" in the basin. The expression on his face was spectacular: shock, anger, reluctance, resignation, spinning like a revolving lantern.
"Another round," he said.
"Second Uncle still wants to compete?"
"I wasn't prepared today," the Prince of Han stood up. "This 'Purple Overlord' hasn't warmed up yet. Another day, I'll bring a better one, and we'll compete again."
"Very well." Zhu Zhanji nodded, his tone extremely gentle. "Your Grandson awaits anytime. Second Uncle, don't forget about the groom."
The Prince of Han's face twitched. He pulled another cloth bag from his sleeve and threw it on the table: "One hundred taels. A bet is a bet."
Then he turned and left. After walking a few steps, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at me.
"You are that veterinarian?"
"Yes."
He looked me up and down: "The tactics you mentioned just now—which side were you standing on?"
I paused.
Zhu Zhanji's voice came from beside me, unhurried: "Second Uncle, Miss Song is my person. What she said just now was merely the duty of a veterinarian—she cannot bear to see animals suffer. As for tactics—" He smiled slightly, "Your Grandson didn't hear what she said."
The Prince of Han snorted and strode away.
The courtyard fell silent.
Zhu Zhanji squatted down and carefully returned the Great General to its jar.
"Your Second Uncle is angry," I squatted beside him.
"Mm."
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Afraid of what?" He handed me the jar. "Check if the Great General is injured."
I took it and inspected it carefully. The Great General walked two steps inside the jar, its antennae held high, looking very spirited.
"No injuries. Condition is excellent."
"Mm."
I looked up at him and found him gazing in the direction where the Prince of Han had left. Sunlight fell on his face; his expression was calm, but the corner of his mouth curved slightly, as if回味 (reminiscing about) something amusing.
"Zhu Zhanji."
He froze.
This was the first time I had called him directly by his name. No "Your Highness," no "Crown Prince." Just "Zhu Zhanji." Three characters, spoken from my mouth with a hint of a Wuxi dialect trailing tone, soft and sticky.
His ears turned red.
"...What did you call This Prince?"
"Zhu Zhanji. Isn't that your name?"
"You should call me 'Your Highness'."
"Oh. Your Highness, were you intentional just now?"
"Intentional about what?"
"You knew your Second Uncle would come. You also knew his cricket couldn't beat the Great General. You even knew he would ask me about tactics after losing."
He was silent for a moment.
"This Prince does not have the power of prophecy."
"But you have the power of observation." I stared at him. "You saw his cricket last time. You knew the result from the start. So why did you agree to the match?"
He thought for a moment and found a word: "Interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Don't you find it interesting?" His eyes suddenly lit up with a youthful, slightly mischievous glow that was impossible to dislike. "He thought he would win, came eagerly, and left furiously. Plus, he lost one hundred taels of silver and a groom."
I looked at him and suddenly laughed.
"Zhu Zhanji, do you often do this?"
"This Prince never does this."
"Then what were you doing just now?"
"This Prince calls that—'waiting at ease for the fatigued enemy'."
I laughed so hard I bent over backward. He watched me laugh, the corner of his mouth curving up as well.
"Laughed enough?"
"Laughed enough." I wiped my tears. "But seriously, do I really have to check your Second Uncle's cricket tomorrow?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"Aren't you afraid I'll cure it, and next time it will come and beat you?"
He looked at me, something indefinable in his gaze.
"Will you?"
"What?"
"Will you cure his cricket and then let it come to beat This Prince?"
I thought for a moment: "I am a veterinarian. A veterinarian's principle is: no matter whose animal it is, if it's sick, it must be treated. Whether it beats you after being cured is your problem, not mine."
He was silent for a while, then laughed.
"Then cure it. Once it's cured, This Prince will beat it again."
"You're that confident?"
"This Prince isn't confident in the Great General," he looked at me, his tone light but his eyes serious. "This Prince is confident in you. The cricket you cure will definitely be stronger than before. But the Great General has been raised by your own hands; it will only become even stronger."
I was stunned. Was this... a compliment?
"So," he stood up, patted the dust off his knees, and returned to his usual gentle demeanor. "Tomorrow, take good care of Second Uncle's cricket. If you cure it, This Prince will reward you."
"What reward?"
"You'll know when the time comes."
He turned and walked away, his steps light. After walking a few steps, he suddenly stopped and said without looking back:
"From now on, you can call me by my name."
"What?"
"In private," he said.
Then he left, walking much faster than before. Eunuch Li followed behind, unable to help but look back at me. His eyes seemed to say: Miss, do you know how good His Highness's mood is today?
That evening, he was practicing calligraphy in the study.
He was writing the character "趣" (Interesting/Amusing). He wrote it once, thought it was good. Wrote it again, even better. On the third time, he suddenly stopped, staring at the character on the paper for a while.
"Li Quan."
"This servant is here."
"Do you think This Prince was a bit carried away today?"
Eunuch Li斟酌 (weighed) his words: "Your Highness... was just in a good mood."
"Mm," he put down the brush. "In a good mood."
He picked up the brush again and wrote three characters on the paper.
"宋屿安" (Song Yu'an).
After writing, he looked at it for a moment, quickly folded the paper, and stuffed it into the very back of the drawer.
"Li Quan."
"This servant is here."
"Do not speak of today's events to anyone."
"This servant understands."
"Especially the three characters 'Song Yu'an'."
"This servant... understands."
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the moon outside. The moon was round and bright.
He suddenly remembered the sound of my voice when I called his name. "Zhu Zhanji." Three characters, soft and sticky. He rolled these three characters on the tip of his tongue without making a sound.
"This Prince is probably crazy," he whispered softly.
Then he blew out the lamp.
Early the next morning, people from the Prince of Han's mansion indeed sent over the "Purple Overlord".
The jar was a good one—Jingdezhen blue-and-white porcelain, ten times more expensive than the Great General's jar. The "Purple Overlord" lay at the bottom, its antennae drooping, looking listless. It was a completely different insect from the majestic one in the fighting basin yesterday.
I opened the jar, took a look, and closed it again.
"How is it?" Zhu Zhanji asked from the doorway.
"No illness."
"No illness?"
"Mm. It just lost the match and is in a bad mood."
He paused, then laughed.
"Did you tell Second Uncle?"
"Told him. I said he needs to coax it well."
"What did he say?"
"Haven't heard back yet. But the little eunuch who delivered the cricket had an expression like he had just heard a Sanskrit mantra."
He burst out laughing.
Watching his smile, I suddenly remembered what Eunuch Li had said last night—"Do you know how good His Highness's mood is today?"
"Zhu Zhanji."
"Mm?"
"You said yesterday that in private, I can call you by your name."
"Did This Prince say that?"
"You did."
He turned his face away, his ear tips turning red again.
"...Then call me."
I smiled.
"Zhu Zhanji."
"Mm."
"Zhu Zhanji."
"...That's enough."
"Zhu Zhanji, Zhu Zhanji, Zhu Zhanji."
He turned around and strode away.
As he walked out of the side room, Eunuch Li heard him whisper a sentence. The voice was very light, but Eunuch Li had sharp ears and heard it clearly.
He said: "Song Yu'an."
Spoken in the Wuxi dialect. It didn't sound quite right, still carrying a Northern accent. But the tone was very serious.
(End of Chapter 4)