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

Chapter 179 Old Zhu: I'm tired, let's destroy it, hurry up! [Bonus Chapter 14 for Monthly Tickets]

A brief, eerie silence fell over the execution ground.

Fang Xiaoru's face turned deathly pale, and his lips trembled.

He pointed at Zhang Biao, making a 'hoarse' sound in his throat, like a fish out of water.

Clearly, Zhang Biao's unorthodox interpretation of "Lunyu" had an unprecedented impact on his worldview.

The 'sage's teachings' that he had devoted his life to studying seemed so pale and powerless at this moment.

The expressions of the civil and military officials around him were even more varied and fascinating.

Some people were dumbfounded, while others couldn't help but laugh but forced themselves to suppress it.

Some people frowned and fell into deep thought, while others glared angrily at Zhang Biao, yet they didn't know how to refute this pure sophistry.

[This madman, in his final moments, turned the solemn execution ground into an absurd stage?]

This is simply unheard of...

Zhu Gaosui, standing on the execution platform, was so laughing that he collapsed to the ground.

Zhu Gaoxu's face was also flushed, and his shoulders were shaking, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or laughing.

Although Zhu Gaochi remained calm, his plump body trembled slightly.

Zhu Yunwen and her two siblings were completely bewildered and shocked.

Zhang Biao's actions were completely beyond their comprehension.

As for the nobles and dignitaries who were watching the execution from all sides, they were also experiencing extremely complex emotions.

Annoyance, absurdity, a hint of barely perceptible admiration, and... a deeper sense of dread.

Zhang Biao's actions, seemingly mad and absurd, are in fact yet another violent blow to the existing order and ideological foundation.

It is even more thought-provoking than his call to "abolish Confucianism".

Because 'rejecting Confucianism' was merely conceptual opposition, or even a bold attempt.

The "new interpretation" of the Analects is a real, fierce "war".

Yes, from this moment on, people will start to think and question whether the Confucianism they are learning is really the original intention of Confucius.

Don't underestimate this criticism.

You might mention the Gongyang Commentary, but it took too much time and effort for the Gongyang Commentary to be put on the table.

It was only during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han that Confucianism became the mainstream ideology.

However, as time went by, the Gongyang Commentary on Confucianism eventually became the current "Rotten Confucianism," which was undoubtedly influenced by the deliberate guidance of "people with ulterior motives."

Zhang Biao's re-emergence of the ideas in the Gongyang Commentary on Confucianism was like throwing a stone into stagnant water.

It's not that people in this era don't know the Gongyang Commentary on Confucianism, but rather that those who do know it lack the influence to change things.

After all, the current orthodox doctrine is "The Corrupt Confucian Scholar".

But Zhang Biao took advantage of this, and on this day when everyone was expecting him to die, he officially declared war on "The Corrupt Confucian".

Its influence is greater than that of any individual or organization.

[Sigh, that kid, he's never settled down, even in death!]

Chang Sheng couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

He now finally understood why Zhu Yunwen could be changed by Zhang Biao.

This guy has an inexplicable 'magic'.

It's as if anyone who gets involved with him is bewitched by him.

But Zhang Biao felt that he had only done a trivial thing.

He clapped his hands casually, dusted off non-existent dust, and turned his gaze back to the ashen-faced Jiang Huan and Liu Sanwu, his face once again displaying that lazy smile that made people's teeth itch:
"Commander Jiang, Grand Secretary Liu, since His Majesty has already issued an edict, you don't want to disobey it, do you?"

Jiang Huan: "..."

Liu Sanwu: "..."

The two looked at each other, but remained silent.

But then Zhang Biao continued, talking to himself:

"First of all, I need to take that set of seven-colored glass wine vessels with me. It was a gift from Old Zhu, so I can't waste it. I can still have a couple of drinks on my way to the underworld."

"Bring a few more jars of good liquor, strong stuff! Preferably Shaodaozi, really potent!"

"Pig's head meat! It has to be there! With lots of minced garlic! It's my favorite. I didn't get to eat my last meal, so I have to make up for it by being buried with me!"

"And also, Commander Jiang..."

He suddenly called out a name, his gaze sweeping mockingly over Jiang Huan, whose face had darkened.

"Your flying fish suit is nice, can I borrow it for a bit? So I can look impressive down there too? I'll return it to you when you come down..."

"puff--!"

Even some of the stern-faced military officers couldn't help but burst out laughing.

This guy even dares to mock the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard!
Jiang Huan's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot, and the veins on his hand gripping the knife handle bulged. He wished he could rush up and sew this bastard's mouth shut immediately.

Zhang Biao ignored Jiang Huan's murderous gaze and continued with his 'last-minute shopping list':
"I also need to prepare a set of writing brush, ink, paper and inkstone, just in case there are corrupt officials down below, I can continue to write petitions and continue the trial!"

"Oh right, the most important thing!"

He slapped his forehead, as if he had just remembered:

"You need to burn some paper figures for me, just like those old guys Fu Youwen and Ru Chang!"

"Once we get down there, I'll keep messing with them! I'll let them know that offending Imperial Censor Zhang will get them nowhere!"

With each word he uttered, the commotion in the crowd grew, and a mixture of amusement and exasperation spread.

This is hardly a death wish.

This is clearly a prelude to continuing his 'mad censor' act in the underworld, and then he flips the table!

As Liu Sanwu listened to Zhang Biao's increasingly outrageous "final shopping list" and watched him treat death as a grand farce, a mixture of anger and an indescribable sense of absurdity welled up inside him.

He slammed his hand on the table with a loud bang, finally roaring in exasperation:
"Enough, Zhang Biao! Do you really want to anger the Emperor and have yourself executed by slow slicing?!"

This roar, like a thunderclap, temporarily silenced the commotion at the execution ground.

Zhang Biao seemed genuinely frightened, shrinking his neck slightly, but then he pursed his lips and muttered under his breath:

"What's the rush... it's not time yet!"

After speaking, he glanced at the civil and military officials and nobles with their various expressions, and then revealed that 'kind' smile that Jiang Huan was extremely familiar with, like a fox seeing a fat chicken.

"Since Grand Secretary Liu won't let me read out 'funerary items,' then let's donate them now!"

Cash donation?

What's the meaning? !

The entire audience was stunned.

Jiang Huan's eyelids twitched, a vague sense of foreboding creeping in.

"My lords! Dukes! Marquises!"

Zhang Biao's voice was enthusiastic, as if he were hosting a charity gala:
"Look at me, it wouldn't look right for me to go down there naked, so how about... everyone chip in and contribute to my funeral?"

"It's also a way to build good karma, so that when I'm down there and have nothing to do, I won't accidentally tell you some 'great achievements' of some lord while chatting with the King of Hell..."

boom!
These words caused a sensation throughout the room!

They finally understood what cash donation meant!
This madman is even more insane than the most vicious bandits!

Even on their deathbed, they still robbed them!
Many officials' expressions changed instantly!

“You…you are so outrageous!”

An elderly vice minister with white hair and beard trembled with anger.

"presumptuous?"

Zhang Biao blinked, looking completely innocent.
"Minister Liu, don't be anxious! I remember... in the eighteenth year of Hongwu, when the river embankment was being repaired in your hometown, it seems that three thousand taels of silver were over-reported?"

"Is this matter recorded correctly in the old files of the Ministry of Works? Or should I go down and ask the old clerk in the Ministry of Works who handled it back then? I think he just passed away last year..."

"You...you're talking nonsense!"

Vice Minister Liu's face turned deathly pale, and he almost couldn't catch his breath.

"And that Commander Li!"

Zhang Biao's gaze then turned to a nobleman:
"Your third young master spent a fortune on a pleasure boat on the Qinhuai River the year before last. It seems he was diverting the grain and salary of your garrison, wasn't it? Tsk tsk, what was that girl's name again... Little Hongyu? Little Cuihua?"

The governor's face instantly turned from red to green, then from green to white, and cold sweat poured down his face. He instinctively took half a step back.

"I'll donate! I'll donate!"

A timid civil official almost cried out, trembling as he pulled a jade pendant from his robes and threw it forward:

"Lord Zhang... Lord Zhang! May you rest in peace! This... this is an heirloom from my family!"

With someone taking the lead, those officials and nobles who had shady pasts and were afraid that Zhang Biao would expose something more before he died panicked.

"I have a fine Duan inkstone here!"

"I have a string of pearls from the East China Sea!"

"I have a jeweled dagger here!"

In an instant, all sorts of jade pendants, thumb rings, fan pendants, small gold ingots, and even personal hand-held items were thrown from the execution platform to the center of the execution ground like raindrops, landing at Zhang Biao's feet.

The scene was so chaotic that it looked like a charity sale for disaster relief.

Among them, the most noteworthy are Cao Guogong Li Jinglong and Wuding Hou Guo Ying.

These two were traumatized by Zhang Biao's "audit" in the imperial prison.

Li Jinglong's face turned pale, and he frantically untied his jade belt and purse, even trying to pull off his gold-inlaid belt buckle, muttering to himself:

"Brother Biao! Brother Biao, may you rest in peace! Please accept this small token of my appreciation! Go downstairs and have a drink if you want, or listen to some music if you want!"

The nobleman next to him covered his face in disbelief.

Guo Ying is even more genuine.

He probably felt that ordinary objects weren't significant enough, so he ripped off the tiger insignia that symbolized his merits and was bestowed upon him by the emperor, and with trembling hands, he tried to hand it forward:
"Zhang... Imperial Censor Zhang! This... this is quite impressive!"

"With you by my side, no one will dare to bully you!"

If the people around him hadn't been holding him back so tightly, he probably would have been able to take off his armor.

Zhang Biao grinned from ear to ear as he looked at the rapidly piling up 'burial goods' at his feet, occasionally picking up an item to comment on it:
"Oh, Minister Liu's jade pendant has a good luster, but the carving is a bit lacking. Is it from the early Hongwu period? It's not as good as the one from the Imperial Workshops."

"Tsk tsk, this gold ingot of Minister Wang... the stamp on the bottom looks like it was privately minted? You can't take this with you, the King of Hell doesn't accept bribes."

"Brother Li's jade belt... well, it's alright, but you've worn it so much that it's a bit deformed."

The officials he commented on all blushed and wished they could disappear into the ground.

Liu Sanwu was so angry that his beard stood on end.

Jiang Huan's hand gripping the hilt of his knife was bulging with veins, and his eyes kept glancing at the sundial, waiting for the appointed time to chop this infuriating bastard to pieces.

But just then, the execution time had not yet arrived.

They could not disobey Zhu's orders.

Therefore, the situation became extremely tense for a time.

……

And the other side.

The Hall of Literary Glory was quieter than usual.

It was even eerily quiet.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat upright behind his enormous desk, the mountain of memorials piled before him seemingly no different from any other day.

He held a vermilion brush in his hand, carefully reviewing each word, his posture calm and composed, as if the clamor outside had nothing to do with him.

However, if one looks closely, one can see that the tip of the vermilion pen trembles very slightly and uncontrollably when it touches the paper.

He reviewed the documents much more slowly than usual, and his gaze would occasionally drift towards the sky outside the palace walls.

"Yunming".

Old Zhu's voice suddenly rang out, breaking the deathly silence in the hall, calm and without a trace of emotion.

"The servant is here."

Yunming, who had been standing by his side like a shadow, immediately bowed.

"What time is it now?"

Old Zhu didn't look up; his gaze remained fixed on the memorial, as if it were just a casual question.

Yunming's heart tightened suddenly, and he answered cautiously:
"Your Majesty, it's just...just past noon." "Hmm."

Old Zhu responded and stopped talking, continuing to 'focus' on the memorial in his hands.

The hall fell silent once more.

The only sounds were the soft scratching of the red ink pen across the paper and Old Zhu's slightly heavier breathing than usual.

Time passed second by second in a suffocating silence.

I don't know how much time passed; it might have been just a moment, or it might have been a long hour.

Old Zhu stopped writing again.

This time, he didn't look at the memorial. Instead, he raised his head and stared blankly at the intricate carvings on the ceiling. His fingers unconsciously and forcefully twisted the corner of a memorial, making the fine Xuan paper fuzzy.

"Yunming".

He called out again, his voice slightly hoarse.

"The servant is here."

Yunming's heart was in his throat.

"What time is it now?"

The same question, but the tone seemed a bit more somber.

Yunming felt his back was soaked with cold sweat, and he could almost hear his heart pounding. He replied in a trembling voice:

"Your Majesty...it's almost...almost noon..."

It's almost 1:45 PM!

That noon was the time he personally set for Zhang Biao's execution!

Looking at Lao Zhu's figure, which was trying to remain calm but couldn't hide his anxiety, Yunming recalled Zhang Biao's seemingly crazy but incisive remarks, and thought of Lao Zhu's love-hate relationship with Zhang Biao. A strange courage welled up in his heart.

He fell to his knees with a thud, his head touching the ground, his voice trembling with both tears and a desperate resolve:
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! This servant...this servant deserves to die a thousand deaths! Please have mercy!"

"That Zhang Biao... although he is arrogant, his talent... his heart... perhaps his crimes do not warrant death!"

"How about... how about exiling him three thousand miles away? Let him serve at the border? Your Majesty!"

"You bastard—!"

Zhu Yuanzhang turned his head sharply, his eyes flashing with fury like a tangible thunderbolt.

He grabbed the paperweight from the imperial desk and slammed it hard onto the ground in front of Yunming, making a loud 'bang' that sent jade fragments flying everywhere.

"You dare interfere in state affairs?! Do you want to die?!"

Old Zhu's voice was like the roar of a wounded beast, and the entire hall trembled under his rage.

Yunming was so frightened that he almost collapsed to the ground, his face ashen, and he kowtowed repeatedly.

"This servant dares not! This servant deserves to die! Your Majesty, please forgive me! Your Majesty, please forgive me!"

However, the more severe punishment that was expected did not come.

Old Zhu stared intently at Yun Ming, who was kowtowing repeatedly, his chest heaving violently, but his overwhelming anger seemed to be blocked by something, making it difficult to vent it all.

After a long while, as if he had exhausted all his strength, he slumped back onto the dragon throne, his roar turning into a low, suppressed soliloquy filled with deep weariness and contradiction:

"What do you know...you know nothing..."

“Zhang Biao is a madman…we understand him…”

"Everything he did—demanding back pay, auditing, cursing us, even bringing up the past of the crown prince… he did all of this to seek death!"

"Only when he is dead will his deeds and words have meaning! They will be etched into our hearts and in the annals of the Ming Dynasty, like nails, so that future generations can ponder them and learn from them!"

"He's risking his life... to give us, to give this Ming Dynasty... a powerful dose of medicine!"

At this point, Old Zhu became agitated again. He slammed his hand on the table, his anger surging once more, this time directed at Zhang Biao's distrust:

"But he doesn't believe us!"

"He thinks we can't do it! He thinks we only know how to kill, not how to cure diseases!"

"He said we only achieved 50% of the desired effect! What a load of bull! What more does he want from us?! Does he really want us to chop up Shuang'er and Gang'er?!"

"Does he want us to be a lonely, isolated ruler, a true tyrant?!"

"Outrageous! You bastard! You're insane!"

He paced back and forth behind the imperial desk like a trapped beast, his curses echoing in the empty hall, filled with anger at being seen through and questioned, and a profound sense of powerlessness.

In the end, all the excitement turned into deeper exhaustion.

He staggered back onto the dragon throne, his gaze falling on the iron box from Zhu Yunwen lying quietly in the corner of the imperial desk.

His thoughts drifted away.

He recalled the three major hidden dangers that Zhang Biao had shouted out at the Fengtian Hall Square.

Official salaries drive corruption...

[The power of the regional princes has grown...]

The position of crown prince remains vacant...

He recalled the shocking account Zhang Biao had given him.

[In the twenty-fifth year of the Hongwu reign, there were seventy-two members of the second generation of the Ming Dynasty imperial family...]

In the 45th year of the Hongwu reign, there were 1,800 people...

In the 165th year of the Hongwu reign, there were 5.6 million people...

He recalled Zhang Biao's seemingly insane suggestion.

[Abolish the system of stipends for feudal princes...]

These words, like demonic chants, echoed repeatedly in his mind.

kill? Or not to kill?

Or not kill, but exile?
The symbolic meaning and impact of everything Zhang Biao did will be greatly diminished.

His death was itself the most important ingredient in this 'strong medicine'.

Moreover, keeping him around will only cause trouble sooner or later; his very existence is a challenge to the stability of imperial power.

But killing him...

It's like personally extinguishing this mad lamp that might have illuminated the thorny path ahead.

It's tantamount to admitting to the world that one is powerless, or rather, dares not, to truly address those deep-seated problems.

This is tantamount to making Zhang Biao's statement "50% effectiveness" the final verdict on his rule as Zhu Yuanzhang.

Old Zhu was struggling intensely inside.

Those hands, accustomed to holding the power of life and death, were now trembling slightly.

The emperor's ruthlessness, the father's concerns, the fear for the future of the country, and the inexplicable regret for that unique soul... all these emotions are intertwined like a tangled mess.

His gaze once again turned to the outside of the palace, as if he could penetrate the layers of palace walls and see the figure about to be executed in the West Market execution ground.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

For a long time.

The last trace of hesitation and turmoil in Zhu Yuanzhang's eyes finally subsided completely, transforming into a bottomless, icy resolve.

He slowly closed his eyes, and from deep in his throat squeezed out a cold, weary, yet undeniable word:
"kill!"

For the stability of the Ming Dynasty, for the dignity of the emperor, and to fulfill Zhang Biao's own choice—the 'meaning' forged by death.

Although this 'meaning', like a red-hot branding iron, will leave an indelible mark on Zhu Yuanzhang's heart.

He leaned back on the dragon throne, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Just then, the old eunuch who was guarding outside the door practically tumbled and crawled in.

His face was deathly pale, his expression strange, as if he wanted to both cry and laugh. He suddenly knelt down, his voice distorted.

"Your Majesty...Your Majesty! The execution ground...over there at the execution ground..."

"Say!"

Old Zhu suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze flashing with sharp light:

"That bastard, did he say something outrageous again? Or... does he not want to die?"

If Zhang Biao didn't want to die, and even begged for mercy, he really wanted to pardon him.

However, the old eunuch's next words completely changed his understanding of Zhang Biao.

The old eunuch swallowed hard, struggling to organize his thoughts, and stammered as he recounted the report from the Embroidered Uniform Guard about everything that had happened on the execution ground.

From Zhang Biao's mockery of the weeping Shen Lang and others, to Fang Xiaoru's rebuke, to Zhang Biao's shocking interpretation of "Lunyu," and finally, the absurd demand for "burial goods"...

As the old eunuch recounted his story, the expression on Old Zhu's face gradually shifted from initial cold anticipation to astonishment, then disbelief, and finally to overwhelming rage and a sense of absurdity at being fooled.

"He really debated the Analects with Fang Xiaoru on the execution ground?!"

Old Zhu's voice trembled slightly with extreme shock and anger:
"And...and they even came up with this ridiculous nonsense that 'only thirty people are worthy of standing up and fighting'?!"

"It's absolutely true, Your Majesty!"

The old eunuch was almost in tears:
"Mr. Fang was so angry...so angry that he couldn't speak! His face turned pale! Many ministers...couldn't help but laugh..."

"Outrageous! Unbelievable! Unbelievable—!"

Old Zhu slammed his hand on the imperial desk, abruptly stood up, his chest heaving violently, his face ashen.

He had imagined countless ways Zhang Biao could die, but he never expected it to be like this.

This is hardly a scene of heroic and tragic martyrdom; it's clearly a scene of street thugs throwing a tantrum at the execution ground!
His carefully planned, politically charged public execution was turned into an absurd farce that the whole city watched!

"He wants burial goods too?! He wants us to cook pig's head and glass cups for him?!"

Old Zhu was so angry he almost fainted; his hand, pointing outside the hall, was trembling.

"Who does he think he is?! Does he think he's some kind of official in the underworld?! Huh?!"

Old Zhu felt a surge of anger rush to the top of his head, and his temples throbbed.

He originally intended to use Zhang Biao's head to intimidate the officials, warn the vassal kings, and incidentally show those upright officials what it means to 'sacrifice oneself for righteousness'.

And what happened? Zhang Biao, that madman, used his execution ground as a stage and his imperial majesty as a stepping stone before his death, staging a farcical drama of 'angering a great Confucian scholar to death and extorting the emperor'!
Now, the people of the city and the officials of the court are not watching any 'tragic martyrdom,' but rather how Zhu Yuanzhang is being toyed with by a death row inmate on the execution ground!
What I saw was that the execution ground of Old Zhu's family had become a storytelling venue!
"Where is Jiang Huan?! What is Jiang Huan good for?!"

Old Zhu roared in uncontrollable rage: "We're just going to let him spout nonsense like that?!"

"Even Commander Jiang...couldn't stop it..."

The old eunuch was terrified.
"It's said that Zhang Biao... he's not afraid of death at all, speaks very fast, and has a string of fallacies that even Mr. Fang can't argue with..."

"Trash! They're all trash!"

Old Zhu paced back and forth in the hall in anger, like a trapped, furious lion.

He felt like a host who had meticulously prepared a grand banquet, only to have the guests jump onto the table and start singing "Eighteen Touches" during the meal.

All the calculations, all the prestige, all the political intentions were shattered by Zhang Biao's final, reckless outburst.

What kind of bullshit 'martyr's mirror' is this? It's clearly a funhouse mirror!

The photos show nothing but jokes about Zhu Yuanzhang!
"Kill him! Kill him right now! Immediately!"

Old Zhu could no longer contain himself and roared at the outside of the hall, his voice cracking: "Don't let him utter another word! Execute him! Execute him now—!"

He didn't want to hear any more news about the execution ground!

He just wanted to end this ridiculous farce immediately!

However, it takes time for the decree to be passed on.

Old Zhu slumped back onto the dragon throne, panting heavily, his face showing unprecedented exhaustion and a deep sense of powerlessness.

He had schemed and controlled his entire life, but in the end, he was completely outmaneuvered by a madman who was determined to die, in a way he never expected.

Zhang Biao... Zhang Biao...

You win...

You fucking made us the biggest joke in the world in the most despicable way...

Old Zhu leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and seemed to age ten years in an instant.

He could almost hear how the historians would record this scene in the future:
During the Hongwu reign, a madman named Zhang Biao caused a disturbance at the execution ground, mocking a great Confucian scholar with his witty remarks, and even demanding to be buried with the emperor before his execution...

In this farce, Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang played an extremely awkward and infuriating role.

This was worse than killing him.

[Damn it! Mud! Horse!]

Old Zhu was tired and thought to himself, "Let's just destroy it, hurry up and do it."

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(End of this chapter)