Chapter Seven: What True Acting Means

In the imperial prison, Chen Kan pounded desperately on the prison door, making a loud clanging noise.

“Someone, quickly, a doctor! Go find a doctor!”

The guard at the door rushed over upon hearing the commotion and scolded sharply, “What are you yelling for? Quiet down!”

“He’s gone mad—my teacher has gone mad! Hurry, find a physician!”

“What?”

The two guards were startled, fully aware of how important the man in the cell was to Prince Yan.

Through the bars, they saw Fang Xiaoru gnawing on a wooden basin with a ferocious look, utterly deranged. The guards grew alarmed.

“Stop him quickly! I’ll fetch the doctor,” one shouted before turning to run.

After a few steps, he hesitated, then glared back fiercely at Chen Kan. “Don’t try anything funny, or you’ll regret it when I get back.”

He then said to his companion, “Watch them carefully; I’ll be right back.”

...

Within less than half an hour, Zhu Di and Daoyan, inside the vast imperial palace, received news of Fang Xiaoru’s madness.

After all, Fang Xiaoru was the key figure in Zhu Di’s grand strategy to win the hearts of the scholars across the realm; there was no way Zhu Di’s informants weren’t aware of what was happening.

The two exchanged a surprised glance. Daoyan rubbed his bald head and murmured, “That can’t be right. When I was there just now, he was perfectly fine. How could he suddenly lose his mind?”

Zhu Di rose abruptly, slapping the table with anger. “Chen Kan, you insolent wretch! How dare you sabotage my plans!”

Then, turning to Daoyan, he asked, “Master, now that Fang Xiaoru has gone mad, doesn’t that ruin all my schemes?”

Daoyan pondered deeply, then suddenly shook his head. “No, Your Highness, something is amiss.”

Zhu Di’s expression faltered. “Master, what is amiss?”

“Your Highness, do you really believe that a naïve, beardless youth could drive a great scholar into madness with just a few words? Does that seem plausible?”

Zhu Di was momentarily speechless, then coldly said, “You mean to say Fang Xiaoru is faking his madness?”

“Heh,” Daoyan chuckled softly. “When the Jianwen Emperor was weakening the princes, even the prince could swallow pig’s food, so how could wooden basin scraps faze him?”

At this, Zhu Di understood.

As Daoyan said, it was absurd to think a callow youth’s few words could so easily shatter a great scholar’s mind.

“Whether he is truly mad or feigning it, we shall see for ourselves. Master, would you accompany me to the imperial prison at Yingtian Prefecture once more?”

“I was just about to suggest it.”

Zhu Di, decisive and swift, summoned his personal guards. The group set off in a grand procession toward the imperial prison.

Meanwhile, Chen Kan was on the verge of tears.

He realized he could not stop Fang Xiaoru from stuffing all manner of filthy things into his mouth.

Strangely, Fang Xiaoru’s strength had grown immense.

Together, Chen Kan and the guards were no match for him.

With a single flick, Fang Xiaoru sent the two men sprawling to the ground.

Could Fang Xiaoru be some hidden, unparalleled warrior? The history books made no mention of such a thing.

“Damn you, Ming history...” Chen Kan muttered bitterly.

But neither Chen Kan nor the guards could truly allow Fang Xiaoru to swallow straw, dirt, or filth unchecked.

They could only bind his feet with rope, and when he was distracted, they slid in to pin him down.

One man held him down while the other bound his hands.

Yet, even tightly bound, Fang Xiaoru refused to relent—he pressed his head to the ground, continuing to gnaw at the dirt.

When Zhu Di and Daoyan, accompanied by a large retinue, burst into the prison, this was the shocking scene before them.

Two strong young men bullying an elderly man, pressing him to the ground as if morality had collapsed and humanity twisted beyond recognition.

“Stop!” Zhu Di shouted, halting their cruelty.

Chen Kan turned to see the man standing beside Daoyan glaring at him fiercely.

Damn it, not again—this was endless.

This time, Zhu Gaozu was absent, but his father had arrived.

Though Chen Kan had not fully inherited the memories of his original self, he still recognized Zhu Di as the supreme ruler.

He hurriedly rose from Fang Xiaoru’s body and cupped his hands respectfully. “I am Chen Kan, a humble subject. Greetings, Your Highness, greetings, Master Daoyan.”

Zhu Di ignored Chen Kan and swiftly approached Fang Xiaoru.

In a low voice, he said, “I am late; you have suffered for my sake, Master. It is all my fault. Quickly, untie him.”

As he spoke, tears welled in his fierce eyes, streaming down his face.

Chen Kan was dumbfounded. Damn, what acting!

If only the Ming Dynasty had Oscars!

The alert guard hastily untied the ropes binding Fang Xiaoru.

No sooner had the ropes been loosened than Fang Xiaoru flailed his hands wildly.

Zhu Di caught one wrist with ease, grief etched into his voice, “A prodigy doomed by heaven—Master, how could you suffer this hysteria? Imperial physician! Where is the physician? Send for the physician at once!”

Fang Xiaoru was startled by the grasp, then twisted and writhed, trying desperately to escape Zhu Di’s iron grip.

No matter how forcefully he struggled, Zhu Di’s hand clamped down like an unyielding vice.

“Huff... huff...” Fang Xiaoru opened his mouth, and seeing escape impossible, resumed biting at the dirt.

The imperial physician had yet to arrive, and the guard sent to fetch him had still not returned, so Zhu Di held firmly onto Fang Xiaoru’s wrist.

“I am somewhat versed in medicine, Your Highness. Allow me to examine him,” Daoyan offered, seeking Zhu Di’s permission.

Without waiting, he already clasped Fang Xiaoru’s other hand.

Feigning a pulse check, Daoyan gently shook his head at Zhu Di.

Chen Kan could not decipher their subtle exchange.

But seeing their theatrical display, he guessed Fang Xiaoru was not truly ill.

After all, Fang Xiaoru was the foremost scholar of Ming’s literary world; if he were truly mad, they would not be acting this way.

Seeing Daoyan’s shake of the head, Zhu Di’s expression changed instantly; his tears and sniffles vanished.

He lifted Fang Xiaoru upright and said coldly, “Fang Xiaoru, to feign madness and foolishness before me—do you not think you are being presumptuous?”

“Huff... huff...”

“Heh heh... heh heh heh...” Fang Xiaoru remained silent, gazing at Zhu Di with a foolish smile.

But as he smiled, saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth onto Zhu Di’s wrist.

“Fang Xiaoru, you...” Zhu Di stared in shock and anger at the saliva staining his hand.

“Your Highness, please remain calm,” Daoyan’s voice sounded just in time.

Zhu Di forced himself to suppress his rage, disdainfully wiping the saliva on his robe.

Yet, looking at Fang Xiaoru’s silly grin, Zhu Di had no patience left to endure his act any longer.