Da Ming: I told you to die for your cause, why are you actually going to die?

Chapter 166 The Zhang Biao Case! Infinite Terror, Everyone Panicked! [Bonus Chapter 3 & 4 for Monthly Tickets]

Old Zhu strode along the palace path leading to the Hall of Literary Glory, his steps powerful and his back still upright.

But every step felt like stepping on a red-hot iron plate, carrying suppressed anger and a bottomless weariness.

The clamor from the direction of Fengtian Hall behind him gradually faded away, but the shouts of "Slay the traitors and set things right!" still lingered in his ears like a leech.

His face was ashen, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes, which had seen through the vicissitudes of life, were now churning with a storm heavier than dark clouds.

[Ten thousand people volunteering? What a huge show of force!]

While I was leading thousands of troops into battle, you pedantic scholars were still toiling in the fields for food!

He sneered inwardly, a cruel smile curving his lips.

Do you think you can force us to submit by using the words of scholars, by using so-called "moral tradition" and "public opinion"? Do you think you can make us kill Zhang Biao, plug our ears, and cover our eyes?

【wishful thinking!】

He knew all too well the tricks behind it all.

This was by no means a spontaneous expression of public opinion, but rather a meticulously planned attack aimed at his thorough investigation into the cause of the crown prince's death.

The purpose was to muddy the waters, divert attention, force him to close the case as soon as possible, and then kill him to silence him.

That's fine...

【I'll let you jump a little longer...】

Once our sons arrive... we'll settle all our old and new scores together!

A chilling glint flashed in Old Zhu's eyes.

However, beneath this forcibly suppressed violence lies a deeper pain and an indescribable loneliness.

Biao'er...my son...

He silently repeated the words to himself, and a sharp pain shot through his heart.

If you have a spirit in heaven, look at your "good brothers," look at this court of "loyal ministers"! They are driving their father to his death!

His feelings for Zhu Biao were extremely complex, encompassing both the pride and love a father has for his outstanding eldest son, and the absolute trust and reliance an emperor has for his heir.

Zhu Biao's death was not only a tragedy of losing a son, but also a fatal blow to the future of his dynasty.

Now, the investigation into the cause of death is so complicated and unpredictable, and may even involve his other sons. How could he not feel heartbroken and angry?
Even a tiger wouldn't eat its cubs...

The phrase flashed through his mind again, only to be replaced by an even colder thought.

The emperor's ruthlessness ultimately overwhelmed his father's grief.

In his heart, the stability of the Ming Dynasty was far more important than any personal emotion, including the bond between father and son.

As you enter the Huagai Hall, the heavy doors slowly close behind you, temporarily shutting out the noise of the outside world.

The familiar scent of incense and the silence inside the hall eased his tense nerves slightly, but the oppressive feeling of an impending storm remained undiminished.

He dismissed the ordinary palace maids and eunuchs who came forward to serve him, leaving only the old eunuch Yunming who followed him like a shadow.

"Yunming".

Old Zhu's voice carried a barely perceptible hoarseness and weariness. He rubbed his temples and sat down behind his desk.

"The servant is here."

Yunming immediately bowed, his voice as soft as a breeze.

"Where are the King of Qin, the King of Jin, and the King of Zhou?"

Old Zhu closed his eyes and spoke in a calm tone, as if asking about an ordinary little matter.

"Your Majesty..."

Yunming's voice was still very soft:
"A report from the 800-li express messenger: His Highness the Prince of Qin received the imperial decree... although he had some complaints, he set off from Xi'an three days ago. According to the estimated journey, he should arrive in the capital in about two or three days."

"His Highness Prince Jin departed from Taiyuan earlier, but due to the slightly longer journey, he is expected to arrive in the capital around the same time as His Highness Prince Qin."

"His Highness Prince Zhou departed from Kaifeng, which is the shortest route, but... it is said that His Highness Prince Zhou spent some time preparing his manuscripts and only set off yesterday. It is expected that it will take another four or five days."

After hearing this, Old Zhu let out a barely audible hum.

[The second son is indeed short-tempered, the third son is 'well-behaved,' and the fifth son... humph, he's probably terrified, he'll just drag things out as long as he can.]

"Where are Feng Sheng, Fu Youde, and Ye Sheng?"

Old Zhu opened his eyes, his gaze sharp: "How are our orders being carried out?"

This is the key!
Controlling the vassal states is like strangling a snake at its vital point!

Yunming lowered his head, his tone carrying a hint of cautious flattery:

"Your Majesty is wise. After receiving the secret decree, the three Dukes have secretly mobilized their elite troops and arrived at pre-arranged locations outside Xi'an, Taiyuan, and Kaifeng under the pretext of 'autumn drills' and 'strengthening defenses'."

"Once the three princes' carriages have left the city to a certain distance, they will immediately enter the city to take over the defenses and 'protect' the Prince's Mansion. So far, everything is going smoothly and no word has leaked out."

"Ah."

Old Zhu nodded in satisfaction, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

[Well done. As long as we control the fiefdom, they can't cause any major trouble.]

He hesitated for a moment, then, as if suddenly remembering something, his tone became somewhat enigmatic: "How is Yunhuo doing lately?"

When Zhu Yunwen was mentioned, Yunming's voice held a subtle, complex emotion:

"Your Majesty, since the day he presented the iron box, His Highness the Third Prince has been staying in the Northern Fifth Palace, rarely venturing out!"

"It is said that... he often stares blankly at the east side of Xiaoling Mausoleum, or clamors for pig's head meat. Occasionally... he will sit quietly on the stone bench in the courtyard outside the palace for half a day."

[Pig's head meat? That damn pig's head meat again! Is it really that delicious?!]

That bastard Zhang Biao! He's got our grandson all bewitched!

Old Zhu was indignant, but a faint trace of gentleness, which he himself did not notice, flashed across his eyes, only to be quickly replaced by a deeper complexity.

That child... is like his father, sentimental, and stubborn.

He sighed inwardly.

The contents of that metal box must have upset him. But the fact that he mustered the courage to deliver it shows a character that's stronger than we imagined.

Then he asked, "What about Yunwen? What has he been doing lately?"

In contrast to Zhu Yunwen's silence, Zhu Yunwen's movements better reflect the attitude of the Lü clan in the Eastern Palace.

Yunming answered even more carefully: "After His Highness the Second Prince returned to the Eastern Palace, he cried many times. Only recently, with the encouragement of Consort Lü, did he return to the school to listen to the lectures of Hanlin Academician Huang Zicheng. He occasionally visits his two younger sisters, the Princesses. His words and deeds are quite virtuous, filial, benevolent, respectful and diligent, and there is nothing unusual about him."

[Virtuous, filial, benevolent, respectful, and diligent; nothing unusual...]

Old Zhu pondered these words in his mind, his face revealing neither joy nor anger.

The calmer Lady Lü and Yunwen appeared, the stronger his suspicions became.

In such turbulent times, excessive calm is itself unusual.

Is it genuine ignorance, or... just a master of acting?

He waved his hand, indicating that Yunming could leave.

He was alone in the hall once again.

Old Zhu leaned back on the dragon throne, his fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest, his gaze fixed on the gray sky outside the hall.

The prince is about to enter the capital... the aftermath of the petition by ten thousand men has not yet subsided... the cause of Biao'er's death remains shrouded in mystery...

All the clues, all the pressure, all the calculations, converged at this point.

He knew that the next few days would be crucial in determining everything.

He was like a seasoned hunter who had laid a trap, just waiting for his prey to walk right into it.

This time, however, the prey in the net may very well include his own son.

A complex mix of emotions—the emperor's coldness, the father's heartache, and the stubborn insistence on uncovering the truth—surged within him.

In the end, all emotions dissipated into a soft, cold soliloquy, which vanished into the empty hall:

"Come on, all of you... let's see who really calls the shots in this Ming Dynasty!"

His gaze finally fell on the direction of the imperial prison, where the madman who had set everything on fire was imprisoned.

Zhang Biao... you'd better pray that all of this is true...

Otherwise, before settling scores with our son, we wouldn't mind letting you, this troublemaking 'monster,' experience the most extreme punishments imaginable!

……

the other side.

Jiang Huan acted swiftly and decisively.

The interrogation methods used in the imperial prison were almost effortless in dealing with these pampered officials who dared to speak out.

In less than two days, a blood-stained confession was placed on his desk.

As he expected, those officials who suddenly emerged to speak out were indeed acting under someone's orders.

But they knew very little about the people who directed them.

It's like when they encounter difficulties, someone lends a helping hand, and they are very grateful and want to repay the kindness.

However, they left a 'read and burn' letter, telling them that they would notify them when they needed their help.

In this way, he would receive an unexpected sum of money every month, and many years passed like this. Then one day, a letter appeared at home, saying that he should repay the kindness.

They all basically follow a similar pattern.

Of course, there are also those who are threatened with something they have caught, but the methods are the same as 'repaying a debt of gratitude'—they don't know who the other party is.

After seeing these confessions, Jiang Huan did not give up the investigation.

He then had people investigate the network of relationships among these people, and sure enough, they found clues, such as several names and clues that vaguely pointed to certain leaders of the Qingliu faction, and even had close ties with several princes.

This was enough for Jiang Huan to report to the emperor and to achieve the goal of "making an example of someone."

Two days later, outside the city gates, the usually bustling official road was now shrouded in a chilling atmosphere.

Squads of gleaming armored Imperial Guards and soldiers from the Five Cities Garrison surrounded an open space, making it impossible to pass through.

In the center of the open space, a makeshift wooden platform was erected, on which knelt seven or eight officials dressed in prison uniforms, with disheveled hair and pale faces.

These were the same people who had "died for their country" during the court assembly, demanding the swift execution of Zhang Biao.

Their mouths were stuffed with rags, and they could only make muffled moans; their eyes were filled with despair and fear.

Below the wooden platform, a large group of people knelt, the scholars and literati who had come from all over to participate in the "petition of ten thousand men".

They were no longer as passionate and enthusiastic as they had been the previous two days. Their faces were pale, their bodies were trembling, and many even lowered their heads, unable to bear watching what was happening on the stage.

The air was thick with the smells of sweat, dust, and an invisible, nauseating fear.

Jiang Huan, dressed in a brand-new flying fish robe, stood before the platform with his hand on his sword, his face as cold and stern as iron.

Beside him, a loud-voiced guard from the Imperial Guard was holding a document and, in a completely emotionless tone, loudly proclaiming the crimes of those on the stage:
"Censor Chen Qingtan, colluding with cronies, presumptuously guessing the Emperor's will, and coercing the Emperor, his heart deserves to be punished!"

"Zhao Wenyuan, the principal clerk of the Ministry of Personnel, accepted bribes of dubious nature, spread rumors, and disrupted the order of the court. His crimes are unforgivable!"

"Compiler of the Hanlin Academy... Doctor of the Imperial Academy..."

Each time a name was read, the corresponding official on the stage would struggle violently, and a suppressed gasp and commotion would rise from the kneeling crowd of scholars below.

When the last charge, "forming cliques for personal gain and plotting treason," was read out, the strongman closed the document and took a step back.

Jiang Huan stepped forward, his icy gaze sweeping over the silent scholars below. His voice, though not loud, reached everyone's ears clearly, carrying a metallic, bloody stench:

"By imperial decree: These treacherous officials have wreaked havoc on the court; their crimes are irrefutable, and the law will not tolerate them! Execute them immediately!"

"Shh!"

Several burly executioners simultaneously raised their daggers.

The gleaming blade reflected a blinding light in the autumn sun.

"Well--!"

The prisoner on the platform let out a final, desperate sob.

Among the scholars below the stage, someone finally couldn't bear the immense psychological pressure. A young student suddenly raised his head, tears streaming down his face, and cried out in a broken voice:
"No...don't kill us! We...we know we were wrong! We'll leave right away! Please, Your Majesty, have mercy!"

This cry was like a stone thrown into still water, instantly triggering a chain reaction. Several more scholars with weak wills joined in the crying, and some even tried to get up and run away. The scene was about to get out of control.

"quiet--!"

Just as the chaos was about to erupt, a clear yet authoritative voice suddenly rang out, drowning out all the noise.

Suddenly, an official in a blue robe, who was kneeling at the front of the crowd, straightened his back.

He was only in his early thirties, with a thin face but sharp, piercing eyes.

His name was Fang Xiaoru.

Although he was also kneeling, his posture was upright, like a pine tree, which contrasted sharply with the limp and fearful crowd around him.

His gaze swept over the distraught scholars like lightning, his voice filled with heart-wrenching rebuke:
"What is the purpose of you studying the classics?! To be afraid in the face of danger and to retreat in fear of death—is this the behavior of a gentleman?!"

"Today we kneel here to uphold our moral principles and for the sake of justice for all! How could we change our resolve because of the threat of swords and axes?!"

"Heads may be severed, blood may flow, but the spirit of righteousness cannot be taken away!"

"If we shrink back out of fear of death, how are we any different from those sycophants and cronies on the stage?! How can we face Confucius again?!"

His words, each one resounding like thunder, echoed in the ears of every scholar.

Those who had initially wanted to back down were rebuked by him until their faces turned red with shame, and they lowered their heads in embarrassment. The commotion was temporarily suppressed by his sheer power.

After Fang Xiaoru finished speaking, he stopped looking at them and turned his gaze back to the execution platform. His face was calm and resolute, as if he had already disregarded life and death.

Jiang Huan, standing on the stage, took in all of this.

His gaze lingered on Fang Xiaoru for a full three breaths.

A complex emotion flashed in those hawk-like eyes.

There was surprise, scrutiny, and even a hint of barely perceptible admiration, but more than anything, there was a sense of coldness and vigilance.

Fang Xiaoru... truly lives up to his reputation. He's a tough nut to crack, and also... a problem.

But he didn't say much, nor did he show any extra expression.

He nodded to the executioner with an extremely slight, almost imperceptible nod.

next moment--

"Snap!" "Snap!"

"Crack!"

Several flashes of sword light appeared, and blood splattered!
Several heads fell to the ground instantly, rolling on the wooden platform, and the headless corpses slumped down.

A strong stench of blood instantly filled the air.

There was deathly silence in the audience.

Immediately following were the sounds of suppressed vomiting and low sobs.

Many scholars were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground, their faces ashen.

Only Fang Xiaoru remained kneeling there upright. Although his face was somewhat pale, his eyes remained firm, even carrying a tragic air of a martyr.

He stared intently at the corpses, as if trying to etch this horrific scene into his very bones.

Jiang Huan watched all this expressionlessly, as if he had just completed a routine official task.

He waved his hand, signaling his men to clean up the scene, then turned around, surrounded by a group of Imperial Guards, mounted his horse, and rode straight towards the palace.

From beginning to end, he never looked back at the devastated scholars, nor did he glance at Fang Xiaoru again.

……

As night fell.

The study of the Prince of Yan's residence.

The flickering candlelight cast intermittent light and shadow on the three brothers' solemn and uneasy faces.

Outside the window, the faint sounds of petitions, like a tidal wave that had not yet completely dissipated, could still be heard coming from the direction of Chengtianmen in the distance, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

Zhu Gaoxu slammed his fist on the table in frustration:
"Ten thousand people plead! These pedantic scholars have gone mad! And even the Emperor... the Emperor actually made them kneel like that? And made an example of them?!"

Zhu Gaosui also looked frightened: "Second brother, keep your voice down! There are spies from the Embroidered Uniform Guard everywhere outside! Who can guess what the Emperor is thinking? I think this is very strange!"

Zhu Gaochi, sitting in the main seat, remained silent, his fingers unconsciously twirling the somewhat worn Buddhist prayer beads. His plump face showed no expression, but his slightly furrowed brows revealed his inner turmoil.

The secret of the iron box, the summons of the vassal king, the petitions of thousands... this series of events was like a tangled mess, making him feel unprecedented pressure and confusion.

What is Father thinking now that he is far away in Beiping? And what instructions will he give them?
Just then, the study door was knocked very lightly four times, twice quickly and twice slowly.

The three brothers immediately fell silent and looked warily toward the door.

Zhu Gaochi gave a signal, and Zhu Gaoxu immediately moved behind the door as silently as a cheetah, his hand on the hilt of his knife.

Zhu Gaosui then moved closer to the door and lowered his voice: "Who is it?"

The butler's voice came from outside the door, hushed tones:
"Your Highness, the two princes, a secret letter has arrived in Beiping! It was personally delivered by the mute old man by the prince's side, ensuring that no one is following us."

The Mute Old Man was one of the most mysterious assassins under Prince Yan, Zhu Di. He was skilled in stealth and was mute, communicating only through words and gestures.

The fact that he was the one delivering the message shows how important and confidential the matter was.

Zhu Gaochi's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately said, "Please come in quickly!"

The door opened silently, and an old man dressed in black, thin and with an ordinary, unremarkable face slipped in like a ghost.

He seemed oblivious to the knife Zhu Gaoxu had pressed against his back, and simply bowed slightly to Zhu Gaochi before taking out a small, sealed copper tube from his body and presenting it with both hands.

Zhu Gaochi took the copper tube, confirmed that the seal was intact, and nodded to the mute old man.

The mute old man bowed again, and just as he had come, silently withdrew from the study, disappearing into the night outside.

The study returned to silence.

Zhu Gaochi took a deep breath, carefully unscrewed the copper tube, and poured out a roll of paper as thin as a cicada's wing.

Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui immediately surrounded them, holding their breath.

In the candlelight, the note contained only eight characters, written by Zhu Di himself, the strokes powerful yet conveying an indescribable solemnity:

Father is well. Trust me. Wait patiently for dawn.

Just these eight words?
The three brothers looked at each other, momentarily stunned and puzzled.

"Is Father well? Do you believe me? Let's wait for dawn?"

Zhu Gaosui read it aloud subconsciously, scratching his head: "Father, what does this mean? Everything is fine in Beiping? You believe us? You want us... to wait?"

Zhu Gaoxu frowned, clearly not fully understanding either: "Wait for dawn? Wait for what dawn? The capital is in complete chaos right now. My second, third, and fifth uncles have all been summoned back, and tens of thousands of people are blocking the palace gates to plead for their lives. We're like sitting on a volcano. How can we wait? Does Father not know the specific situation in the capital?"

However, as Zhu Gaochi looked at these eight characters, his gaze gradually deepened from initial confusion.

He understood his father better than his two younger brothers, and knew that his father would never speak without reason.

He kept pondering those words.

"Father, may you be well..."

He murmured, a flash of understanding appearing in his eyes:
“Father is telling us that Beiping is safe and sound, that he is well and his foundation is solid, so we don’t need to worry about the rear. This is to reassure us.”

After saying this, he looked at Zhu Gaoxu: "Second brother, it was the right thing to do to tell you to stop all actions before. At this moment, it's better to stay still than to make any moves."

Then, his gaze fell on the two characters '信尔':

"Our father believes in our abilities and judgment, and he believes that we can hold our ground in this vortex and handle the current crisis. This is what sets us in our course."

He said this to the brothers Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui, but also to himself.

Finally, his gaze settled on the four words 'waiting for dawn,' and his voice gradually became steady and powerful:

"Wait for dawn... Father is not telling us to wait passively."

"He is telling us that the current chaos and darkness are only temporary! The true 'dawn' has not yet arrived!"

He looked up at his two younger brothers, a relieved yet increasingly serious expression on his chubby face:

“Father sees further than we do! All of this in the capital is probably still under the control of our Imperial Grandfather, and perhaps... it was something that our Imperial Grandfather anticipated or even promoted!”

"Our father told us to remain calm, not to be misled by the current chaos, not to act rashly, and not to be used as pawns by anyone!"

"Be like a hunter, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike! Waiting for the situation to truly become clear and for the dawn to break!"

Hearing their elder brother's meticulous analysis, Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui gradually came to their senses, and the anxiety and unease on their faces were slowly replaced by a heavy sense of responsibility and vigilance.

They looked at those eight characters again, feeling as if they weighed a ton.

"Does Father mean... that all of this is still within the expectations of Grandfather... or even Father?"

Zhu Gaoxu asked hesitantly, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief.

"At least, Father believes it's far from the time when we need to take risks."

Zhu Gaochi nodded emphatically, lit the note in the candlelight, and watched it turn to ashes.
"What we need to do is just as Father said, 'wait for dawn'."

He paused, his eyes sharpening as he looked at his two younger brothers: "From this moment on, everyone in the Prince of Yan's residence must behave with even greater deference and humility than usual!"

"Second brother, especially you, you absolutely must not go outside again! Control your temper!"

"Third brother, you need to keep your mouth shut. Don't talk nonsense, not even about people in the manor. If you're bored, eat pig's head meat and pig's trotters. I miss you, brother!"

"Then... what about that iron box?" Zhu Gaosui asked in a low voice.

“It has nothing to do with us! Just pretend nothing happened!” Zhu Gaochi said firmly.

Zhu Gaoxu and Zhu Gaosui exchanged a glance, both seeing determination in each other's eyes, and nodded in unison: "Understood, elder brother!"

In the candlelight, the three brothers seemed more composed than before.

Although the storm outside was raging, their father's short but weighty secret letter was like a steady anchor cast for them amidst the turbulent waves.

……

Meanwhile, inside the Huagai Hall.

Jiang Huan knelt on one knee and gave Old Zhu a detailed report on the interrogation results and the execution process, including Fang Xiaoru's performance on the execution ground and his remarks, repeating them word for word.

Old Zhu listened quietly, his fingers tapping the armrest as he habitually, his face revealing neither joy nor anger.

When he heard Fang Xiaoru rebuke the retreating scholars and say, "Heads may be severed, blood may flow, but the spirit of righteousness cannot be taken away," his fingers paused slightly, and a faint, elusive light flashed in his eyes.

Fang Xiaoru…that disciple of Song Lian? He certainly has a great reputation!

He sneered inwardly.

[A man of strong character, unafraid of death, a talent fit to govern the world, but unfortunately... too arrogant.]

He needs to be kept in check; only then can he achieve great things in the future.

"Okay, I understand."

Old Zhu's voice was calm and even, as if he was neither surprised by Fang Xiaoru's performance nor particularly concerned about it.

"What happened to those scholars who were terrified?"

"Your Majesty, after the executions, most of them were distraught and some have already begun to leave."

Jiang Huan cautiously replied, "But there are still some people, led by Fang Xiaoru, who remain kneeling in place, silent and motionless, as if they have the intention of... remonstrating to the death."

"Death advice?"

Old Zhu's lips curled into a mocking smile: "Then let them kneel. If they like kneeling, let them kneel to their heart's content. We'll see how long their knees can outlast our patience."

He pondered for a moment, a calculating glint in his eyes, and then issued a new instruction:
"Send the decree to Liu Sanwu, and those few honest old fellows in the Censorate."

"Let them go and persuade those kneeling scholars."

"Tell them that we will make a fair judgment on Zhang Biao's case, and the verdict will be announced to the world soon."

"If they disperse now, we can let bygones be bygones."

"If they continue to be obstinate and refuse to repent, we will gather a crowd to coerce them..."

Old Zhu's voice suddenly turned cold: "Then next time, it won't just be those few on stage being chopped down! Don't say you weren't warned!"

This is a carrot and stick approach.

They both gave him a way out and drew the final red line.

"Yes! I understand!"

Jiang Huan accepted the order, but hesitated for a moment before asking in a low voice, "Your Majesty, what about Fang Xiaoru...?"

Old Zhu glanced at him, his gaze deep:

"Fang Xiaoru...we don't need to touch him yet."

"This man's reputation is too great. Killing him would discourage scholars from all over the world, which would play right into the hands of some people."

"But we will remember his words and actions today."

"This person... is usable, but not now. Let's see how he behaves in the future."

Old Zhu's attitude toward Fang Xiaoru was very clear.

They will be temporarily sidelined and observed, their reputation used to appease the Shihlin community, but they will never be given important positions and will be closely monitored.

"Sir, obey the order!"

Jiang Huan understood that the emperor had already considered the whole situation, so he immediately bowed and withdrew to make the arrangements.

After watching Jiang Huan leave, Zhu's gaze once again turned to the outside of the palace, as if he could see through the palace walls and see the scholars still kneeling and that upright figure.

"The backbone of scholars... Hmph, let's see if your backbone is harder, or if our empire is as impenetrable as an iron fortress!"

Ultimately, the Ming Dynasty is ruled by the Zhu family!

[And there are those who are instigating you behind the scenes... Don't think you're the only one who can make a move!]

"Yunming!"

Old Zhu suddenly shouted something.

Yunming immediately ran in to receive the order: "This servant is here."

"Tell Song Zhong!"

Old Zhu's voice was eerily calm, yet it contained a storm brewing beneath:

"Give us Zhang Biao's cell, triple the manpower, all of them my old personal guards from our hometown! Not even a fly is allowed to get in without my order!"

“If Zhang Biao loses even a single hair, or is ‘forced to commit suicide,’ Song Zhong and all his men will come to me with their heads!”

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Yunming trembled with fright, bowed and accepted the order, then ran out to deliver it.

Old Zhu glanced at the mountain of memorials piled on his desk, a cruel smile curving his lips.

"Trying to intimidate us with sheer numbers? We'll show you what true 'power' really means!"

Muttering to himself, he picked up the vermilion brush and quickly wrote on a blank edict, then stamped it with the imperial seal.

"Issue the imperial decree! Commander Chang Sen of the Five Cities Garrison is to set up one 'Petition Drum' and one 'Revenge Drum' outside the Meridian Gate tomorrow!"

"Send literate eunuchs to stand guard! Proclaim to the entire city: Anyone who knows of the old cases in Shaanxi, the old affairs of the Eastern Palace, or even any corruption, abuse of power, or factionalism in the court, regardless of rank, may beat the drum to appeal for justice, which will reach the ears of the Emperor!"

"Those who report the truth will be rewarded! Those who report the falsehoods will be pardoned if there are extenuating circumstances! Any official who dares to obstruct the reporting of a complaint will be treated as an accomplice!"

Didn't you want the people to petition for Zhang Biao's execution?

Let's have another 'people's complaint'!

Let's see who shouts the loudest! Let's see who uncovers the most scandals! Let's see who dies the fastest!

Old Zhu's eyes, which could see through people's hearts and minds, gleamed with a chilling light.

This imperial decree, like another thunderclap, instantly spread throughout the entire city!

The capital city, which was originally caught up in the public opinion of "calling for the execution of Zhang Biao", suddenly erupted into chaos again!

Those harboring grievances, secrets, or simply seeking to profit or take revenge on their families began to stir.

The overwhelming terror has panicked all the corrupt officials.

This is an even more terrifying and shocking case than the previous three major cases!
[The Zhang Biao case is now definitively settled.]

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　　Also, the climax of the story begins tomorrow.

　　It's not that I'm slow, but there are some things that need to be explained. This is my consistent style of writing stories. I don't want a random plot to suddenly pop up, so I need to explain things clearly before the explosion.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)