The first navigator of the Ming Dynasty

Early in the morning, the mist was hazy.

The road in the distance was shrouded in a cloud of white vapour, and only vague outlines could be seen in the houses and trees.

Da

A white horse took the lead, and two jujube red horses followed closely to the left and right, galloping at high speed on the unmanned road.

"Huh-"

The three tall horses stopped in the small square of the side gate of Qingshou Temple, and the owners of the two jujube red horses turned over and dismounted.

Ma He came to the white horse and took the reins of the white horse. The owner of the white horse wearing a cloak and cloak, a pair of black leather boots stepped off the horse.

A large hand knocked on the wooden temple door, and the knocking sound echoed through the light mist.

With a babbling sound, the wooden door opened, and a slick head poked out of the crack.

"Little junior brother, I'm Zheng Hai. Hurry up to my master, I have a distinguished guest to visit, please come to the backyard meditation room to meet you.

Zheng Hai didn't wait for the little monk to reply, pushed open the door and invited the two behind him to enter the temple gate.

A horse dressed in a green cloth led the way, followed by a burly man in a cloak and cloak.

He has a thick and dark beard, a burly figure, a somewhat round Chinese face, and bright eyes. These eyes seem to be able to see through the white fog of the early morning and see the end of the road at a glance.

Zheng Hai followed behind the man in the cloak, and he knew the purpose of the man's visit to Qingshou Temple to find Monk Daoyan.

Last night, the news of the death of the crown prince Zhu Biao came from Yingtianfu, and the trip to Yingtianfu to mourn the prince was about to be arranged, which was one of the most obvious purposes of this trip.

Following the steps of the man in the cloak, he walked through the winding path in the temple, passed by the pine and ancient cypress, turned past a cluster of high-spirited green bamboo, and arrived at a quiet courtyard.

In front of a carved wooden door, the white-bearded and white-eyebrowed old monk Dao Yan was already waiting there alone.

Seeing the arrival of the three of them, Dao Yan smiled, folded his hands, and saluted the man in the cloak and said, "Poor monk, meet King Yan." "

Dao Yan, this king has come to discuss important matters.

"Could it be that there is a change in Ying Tianfu?" Dao Yan glanced at Ma He and Zheng Hai.

"Monk Daoyan is really good, this king has just learned that the prince has passed away..."

"Congratulations to King Yan!" The old monk Daoyan clasped his hands together again and bowed down.

"What do you mean by that?"

"The poor monk wants to give King Yan a gift. "

Oh?" "Oh?" Yan King Zhu Di stared at the face of the old monk Daoyan with some curiosity, "What gift do you want to give this king?"

"Poor monk, give Yan Wang a white hat."

Yan Wang Zhu Di stood up from his chair and stared at the face of the old monk Daoyan fiercely: "Don't talk nonsense!" Monk Daoyan

smiled, and a pair of triangular sick tiger eyes narrowed into a line, and he did not rush to explain. When the smile on his face disappeared, he turned his face to look at Zheng Hai, his eyes were deep.

Yan Wang Zhu Di also glanced at Zheng Hai and then at Ma He.

Monk Daoyan said softly: "Apprentice, the two of you will go out to guard first, and you have important matters to discuss with His Royal Highness King Yan for the sake of the teacher."

Zheng Hai and Ma He nodded slightly, exited the room, and closed the door gently.

In the twenty-fifth year of Hongwu (1392 AD), in this meditation room of Qingshou Temple in Beiping, Zhu Di, the king of Yan, and Daoyan openly discussed the possibility of inheriting the throne for the first time. Monk Daoyan also told his vertical and horizontal strategy in front of King Yan for the first time.

As for what the two of them said, Zheng Hai, who was guarding outside the gate, didn't know. Although he was also a little curious, and even he could vaguely hear the words "King Qin" and "King Jin", he didn't care too much.

Zheng Hai knew that Dao Yan's plan could not succeed, and King Yan's trip to Tianfu was destined to be just a failure.

He and Ma He stood guard at the door, doing what a personal guard should do, standing guard honestly. However, he was looking forward to the corresponding Tianfu Nanjing, and wondered if King Yan would take him to Yingtianfu together.

Zheng Hai looked at the gray sky outside the courtyard, the light of the day gradually brightened, as if it was covered with a layer of bright light paper, but the sky was still gloomy.

The sky in Yingtianfu was also a dull and cloudy day. Thick clouds shrouded the sky, as if there was a feeling of being overwhelmed by the quilt in summer.

The prince's mansion was full of vegetarianism.

The red plaque was covered with white linen, and several poles were erected in the middle of the courtyard, on which hung white spiritualist flags, which swayed in the wind.

The sound of weeping came from the hall of the courtyard, mixed with the cries of women and children.

A gust of wind blew the round paper in the hall to the outside of the hall, and three or five pieces of round copper coin-shaped paper fluttered in the air and fell in front of a pair of black cloth shoes.

With one foot on the paper, an old man in a white linen mourning dress, with a black strip of cloth tied around his waist, walked towards the hall with heavy steps.

The sixty-year-old man was no different from the others, his hair and beard were gray, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes were deep and dense. The grief of the past two days has clouded his eyes with a dark black, and the whites of his eyes are bloodshot, red and a little frightening.

If there is anything different about him from other old people, perhaps it is his high cheekbones, which are said to be the face of a high-ranking official. Decades ago, he won the attention of his father-in-law because of his high cheekbones, and he married his daughter to him.

The high cheekbones almost squeezed the old man's eyes and eyebrows together, and the thick eyebrows seemed to be pressed against the eyes, and these high cheekbones also made his chin look a little pointed.

In addition, the old man in his sixties has another obvious feature, that is, he has a pair of large and long ears, like the angry eyes of King Kong with big ears in the temple.

The old man walked into the hall, where there were densely hung spirit-summoning flags, and a dozen or so women and children knelt on the ground.

There was a huge coffin in the center of the hall where everyone knelt and worshipped, and the black coffin was heavily pressed on the stone platform, and it was also pressed on everyone's hearts, and the atmosphere was very depressing.

There was a brazier on the ground, and the flames in the brazier were devouring the round paper, and the flames were swaying in the wind.

The flames of a brazier obviously could not suppress the cold air in the hall, and the flickering flames made people feel even more cold and gloomy.

The old man stepped on the wind-blown paper money on the ground, and it was difficult to step on it every step, as if he was pressing a jack pendant on his body, and it was difficult to lift it up every step, like he was stuck in the quagmire of a swamp, and every time he lifted his legs, it was very laborious.

Hearing the rustling of footsteps, the crying crowd turned around and saw the old man, and suddenly the crying in the hall stopped, and only the sound of a young man sobbing remained.

This young man was fourteen or fifteen years old, also dressed in linen and filial piety, dressed in white linen, a pointed white hat, and black cloth tied around his waist.

The old man's deep eyes swept down the young man who was still sobbing quietly, and the young man cried very sadly, tears kept coming out of his eyes and sliding down, and he kept wiping them with his sleeves.

Suddenly feeling that there was no crying, the young man turned around and met the old man's gaze: "Grandpa Huang, my father, he is gone!

The young child hid behind his birth mother and stared at the old man, obviously frightened.

The women began to weep along, and the hall was filled with weeping.

"Okay, don't cry!" the

old man's voice was not loud but like a thunderbolt, hitting everyone's spirits.

The women in the hall swallowed the pain in their hearts and stopped crying.

However, a few of the toddlers were still crying sharply, and the old man's gaze swept over the toddlers, which made them cry even more sharply.

The old man shook his head slightly, ignored the child's cry, came to the kneeling young man's side, and put a big rough hand on the young man's shoulder: "Yun Wei, you have to cheer up." "

Grandpa Huang, I, I will take care of the other younger brothers... But I, I, I'm hard... Grandpa Huang, my father is really gone!" In

the howl of the young man, the old man could no longer suppress his sadness, and tears burst out of his eyes again.