300.
300
Zhu Yuanzhang's Camp — "The Name That Was Taken"
When news of Chen Youliang reached the command tent at Yingtian Prefecture, Zhu Yuanzhang was alone.
It was night.
Only a single lamp burned.
Outside the tent, the spring rain was finally easing.
The clerk delivering the report never finished reading it.
Zhu Yuanzhang raised a hand impatiently, as if he already knew.
"That's enough."
When the clerk withdrew, silence settled over the tent.
Zhu Yuanzhang slowly unfolded the report on the table.
There wasn't much written.
— Chen Youliang
— release of military grain
— banners marked Min'an (民安)
— spontaneous support from the people
— public alignment with the Goryeo envoys
His fingers stopped.
"Min'an…."
He rolled the words around in his mouth.
Min. An.
The people. Peace.
"That bastard…."
Something like a smile flickered across his lips—
sharp, cold.
Zhu Yuanzhang rose and looked beyond the tent.
Torches stretched across the rain-soaked ground.
Beyond their glow lay everything he called the realm.
"He abandoned Heaven?"
He laughed softly.
"He abandoned Heaven and chose the people?"
Zhu Yuanzhang had always believed himself the one who carried Heaven's will.
He gave in Heaven's name.
He took in Heaven's name.
He waged war in Heaven's name.
And yet—
"He used the name first."
He understood.
Chen Youliang hadn't merely moved troops.
He had seized the story.
Feeding the people.
Looking to people, not Heaven.
A city of the people.
Those were words Zhu Yuanzhang himself had meant to use someday.
Words he had been saving.
His hand slowly clenched into a fist.
"A man without order talking about order…
a man soaked in blood speaking of popular will."
Footsteps sounded outside the tent.
A general entered.
"My lord. It appears Chen Youliang will cooperate with Goryeo."
Zhu Yuanzhang didn't answer.
Instead, he asked:
"And the people?
What's the mood among the people?"
The general hesitated.
"They're following him enthusiastically.
He released grain and relieved the refugees."
Silence.
In that moment, the last trace of ease vanished from Zhu Yuanzhang's face.
It was jealousy.
And danger.
"The people have moved," he said quietly.
"That changes the nature of the war."
He had built strength by enforcing discipline, banning looting, collecting only fixed taxes.
Now Chen Youliang was doing the same.
This was no longer a contest of swords, walls, or numbers.
It was a fight over who claimed the language of the realm first.
Zhu Yuanzhang folded the report and tossed it into the fire.
The paper flared instantly.
"The will of people…."
Letters warped in the flames.
He paced slowly inside the tent, his voice low but firm.
"If Chen Youliang wants to be the King of the People,
then I will be the King of Order."
He lifted his head.
"You lead the people with food.
You bind men with law."
After a moment, he issued commands outward.
"Send messengers.
Gather village registers across Jiangnan.
Reorganize the granaries."
"Reduce taxes."
Then, after a brief pause:
"Enforce order more strictly."
A nearby guard swallowed.
"My lord, that—"
Zhu Yuanzhang cut him off.
"Chen Youliang seeks hearts.
I will secure order."
His eyes darkened.
"Popular will may sway—
but order must not collapse."
Wind blew into the tent.
The flames flickered.
Zhu Yuanzhang spoke one last time, quietly.
"A man who abandons Heaven will someday need Heaven again."
For the first time, he felt it—
the fear that he might already be late.
Zhang Shicheng's Camp — "When a Realm Bought with Money Begins to Collapse"
The news arrived at midnight.
Zhang Shicheng was holding a wine cup—
golden, heavy.
His tent glittered with silver and gold.
The scent of incense and lingering music still hung in the air.
The messenger trailed off mid-sentence.
"Chen Youliang released grain in Nanjing…
stood before the people…
raised banners marked Min'an—"
That was as far as he got.
Crash—!
Zhang Shicheng smashed the cup onto the floor.
The gold cup crumpled and rolled.
Wine splashed across the silk carpet.
"That lunatic."
He was laughing—
but his eyes were not.
"He released grain?
What, gave it away for free?"
He rose slowly.
The merchants and generals behind him held their breath.
"That's not how you build a state.
That's how you ruin one."
He stabbed a finger into the air.
"Grain must be stored to become power.
Power must be turned into silver so people obey."
His voice grew rough.
"People don't listen when they're full.
They line up when they're hungry."
Someone spoke cautiously.
"My lord… Goryeo has aligned with Chen Youliang.
They spoke of the 'will of people.'
That talk about popular will being Heaven's will…"
"The will of people?"
Zhang Shicheng turned, his face twisting.
"If the world ran on that kind of talk,
Zhang Shicheng would be dead already."
He kicked the table.
Documents, ledgers, silver ingots scattered across the floor.
"The will of people changes.
Only money remains."
He paused, teeth clenched.
"Chen Youliang crossed the line."
He knew this wasn't a military maneuver.
In business terms, it was market destruction.
Prices had been broken.
Order shattered.
The people had been fed the poison called free.
"If he does this, then no matter how much silver I spend,
they'll ask me why they have to pay at all."
His fury hardened into certainty.
"I won't allow it."
He issued orders.
"Cut off all western trade caravans.
Block grain distribution.
Double the prices."
A general gasped.
"Then popular sentiment—"
Zhang Shicheng cut him off.
"Popular sentiment isn't bought.
It's trained."
He added coldly:
"Chen Youliang tried to win people.
I'll starve them."
His eyes turned icy.
After a pause, he spoke again.
"And don't forget Goryeo.
They shook the board."
"Winning the realm with words?
Then I'll prove the price of those words with money."
Wind swept through the tent.
The candles flared.
Zhang Shicheng watched the flames and laughed.
"Good.
Now this is a real war."
Neither Zhu Yuanzhang nor Zhang Shicheng found Chen Youliang's transformation entirely satisfactory.