Chapter Nine: Born Dragonkin!

“No, this time on the campaign I stayed with my father the whole time. I only saw my grandfather twice, and we barely spoke. Besides, Teacher, my grandfather is usually accompanied by Prince Zhanji, his elder brother. Although he didn’t go this time, as the Han heir, what use would I be? I’d only be a nuisance,” Zhu Zhanhe said candidly, playing with an exquisitely carved peachwood ruyi scepter in his hands.

This peachwood ruyi had been a gift from the old Taoist Zhang Zhengheng when Zhu Zhanhe first became his disciple. He had carried it ever since, even to the battlefield. Six years of constant handling had transformed the wood, its red hues now translucent, almost like jade. It was one of his most cherished possessions.

Zhang Zhengheng’s question had a deeper meaning; he was really trying to find out whether Zhu Zhanhe had come into close contact with his grandfather, Zhu Di.

“Always with Prince Han, huh? That’s good—at least you’re safe.” The old Taoist’s expression remained unchanged, but his tone held a hint of disappointment. Perhaps sensing his own bluntness, he awkwardly took a sip from his nearly empty tea cup.

“Teacher, you know I have no other intentions,” Zhu Zhanhe said, shaking his head helplessly yet calmly, speaking softly to his mentor.

Zhang Zhengheng was momentarily stunned by his disciple’s words. He set down his tea cup and shook his head in disbelief, his face etched with the weariness of years, staring intently at his young student.

“Zhanhe, the Way is natural; everything has its destiny. As Confucius said: ‘Time flows like a river, ceaseless day and night.’ Daoists say: ‘Reversal is the movement of the Dao.’ Everything is in constant flux. Just because you feel no stirrings now doesn’t mean you never will.” The old Taoist’s disbelief was palpable as he fixed his gaze on Zhu Zhanhe’s face. Inwardly, he cursed, thinking: I don’t buy it for a second. With your whole being suffused with dragon energy, your dragon-like features—you’re practically ready to ascend the throne! Claiming you have no ambitions? Spare me. I’m almost eighty and not about to be fooled by a mere child. Go home, wash up, and get some rest!

“Teacher, as the Book of Changes says, ‘The movement of Heaven is full of power; the superior man makes himself strong and untiring.’ Looking through history—from Nuwa patching the heavens, to Yu taming the floods, to Shennong tasting herbs—I’ve learned one thing: follow the flow and become human; resist, and you become immortal! My fate is mine to command, not Heaven’s. What Heaven wills means nothing if I do not consent!” Zhu Zhanhe met his teacher’s disdainful gaze with a surge of inexplicable anger, his face stern as he retorted sharply.

Zhang Zhengheng shivered at the defiance in his student’s tone. Looking up, he saw Zhu Zhanhe standing proudly, one hand behind his back clutching the wooden ruyi, his expression calm but commanding an awe that made the old Taoist uneasy.

It was not Zhu Zhanhe’s appearance that unsettled him, but the sharp crease in his brow that seemed to fill the room with an intangible pressure. The very air thickened, each breath becoming labored. Even if he looked away, Zhang Zhengheng could sense his student’s displeasure.

Dragon energy! It had to be dragon energy! The old Taoist cursed silently: This crushing weight is definitely dragon energy! Damn Zhu Di, you unreliable fellow, why did you let your dragon seed roam free? Why not keep him and groom him as heir? Your choice of successor is your business, but why unleash him to cause trouble? You yourself are a calamity, and now you’ve spawned another! I don’t want to die yet—I haven’t lived enough. I’m not ready to meet the Dao Ancestor, and certainly not to bring the ten clans of Dragon and Tiger Mountain with me!

And you, that damned Monk Daoyan, have you gone senile reading scriptures? How could you miss such a powerful dragon seed? Leaving him to wreak havoc everywhere—I’m old, I just want peace! Zhang Zhengheng’s mind bitterly reprimanded the Yongle Emperor and his chief strategist Yao Guangxiao.

Despite the turmoil inside, the old Taoist remained outwardly composed, taking a few sips from his drying cup.

After a moment, Zhu Zhanhe felt he had overplayed his hand and grew slightly embarrassed. He glanced around furtively, then at his impassive teacher, admiring the serenity born of years of cultivation.

“Ahem, Teacher, please don’t take me seriously. With my situation, I’m better off going home, being a pampered heir, then taking over my father’s position as Prince Han. Then I’ll just be a pampered prince,” Zhu Zhanhe said, skillfully refilling his teacher’s cup with a beaming smile and eager attentiveness.

Zhang Zhengheng sighed deeply, his heart heavy. He silently recited Cao Cao’s words on the dragon’s transformations: The dragon can be great or small, can rise or hide; when great, it summons clouds and swallows the mist; when small, it conceals its form; when rising, it soars through the universe; when hiding, it lurks beneath the waves.

“Enough, I won’t press you. You know your own heart. You just returned from the battlefield, your aura tainted with killing energy. Go to the meditation chamber next door and sit quietly for an hour, then come see me again,” the old Taoist said, weary from the encounter, eager to dismiss his unruly student.

“As you command, Teacher. I’ll go now,” Zhu Zhanhe replied obediently. Though called meditation, it merely meant reciting scriptures a few times and practicing breathing exercises. He promptly headed to the adjacent chamber.

Watching him leave, Zhang Zhengheng recalled when he first met him.

It was the first year of the Yongle era. The Yongle Emperor Zhu Di had just ascended the throne. As the appointed leader of the Daoist orders, the Celestial Master’s Mansion of Dragon and Tiger Mountain, led by the reigning Celestial Master Zhang Changzheng, came to pay homage to the new emperor.

This was Zhang Zhengheng’s third audience with the Ming emperors: first with the founding emperor Zhu Yuanzhang, then with the Jianwen Emperor Zhu Yunwen, and now with the Yongle Emperor Zhu Di.

Their delegation lodged at the Chaotian Palace in Yingtian Prefecture. After the audience, most were to return to Dragon and Tiger Mountain, except for a few staying in Shuntian Prefecture to pray for the new emperor.

On the eve of their departure, they were summoned by Zhu Gaoxu, the Yongle Emperor’s favored son, Prince Han.

The reason was simple: the legitimate heir, Prince Han’s eldest son, showed interest in Daoist teachings and sought a master. Given the prince’s status, they could not refuse. To show proper respect, Celestial Master Zhang Changzheng personally led several elder Taoists to the Han Prince’s mansion.

Upon arrival, the four elderly Taoists, including the Celestial Master, were stunned—almost choking in the Han mansion.

The young heir was astonishing. Barely ten years old, he seemed ordinary at first glance, but upon closer inspection, dragon energy radiated from him, overwhelming and impossible to conceal.

These seasoned sages had seen much: the vigorous Hongwu Emperor who subdued the realm by force; the young, crying Jianwen Emperor; the newly enthroned but ruthless and cunning Yongle Emperor who commanded armies with his mind. Yet, none of these three rulers bore the dragon’s aura as intensely as this boy.

As the young heir approached and bowed politely, the four elders nearly leapt to their feet in alarm and quickly withdrew. They fell silent amid the astonished onlookers, their minds racing but not daring to speak.

When the matter of the heir’s desire for a Daoist master arose, their heads buzzed with disbelief.

In the end, Celestial Master Zhang Changzheng designated the unfortunate Zhang Zhengheng as the heir’s Daoist mentor.

With no choice, he steeled himself, accepted the tea offered by Zhu Zhanhe, and declined the formal kowtows, agreeing that such ritual was unnecessary in their Daoist tradition.

At the time, all believed Zhu Zhanhe was a secret dragon nurtured by the Yongle Emperor. Yet, after years of observation, it became clear the boy was untrained—purely self-taught and uniquely gifted. In other words, Zhu Zhanhe was a natural-born dragon seed.