Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 128 The Emperor Frequently Helps Others Complete Their Family Genealogies
The sedan chair became increasingly stable, but Qian Qianyi's heart felt like a small boat adrift in a raging storm, tossed about and on the verge of capsizing.

Another almost identical sedan chair rode alongside him, passing through the bustling main street and turning into a quiet alleyway where the two sedan chairs could pass each other side by side.

The alley was deep, with high walls on both sides, blocking out all light and sound from the outside world. The bluestone pavement gleamed with a faint blue light in the twilight, like a passageway leading to the underworld.

The two sedan chairs stopped at the same time.

There was no curtain being lifted, and no words were spoken.

Time seemed to stretch out and freeze at that moment, with only the faint, heavy, and suppressed breathing of the other two in the air.

Qian Qianyi could even feel the same chill emanating from Qian Longxi in the other sedan chair, through the thick sedan chair walls.

They are all smart people.

Among intelligent people, there is often no need to say too much nonsense. A glance, a gesture, or even a moment of silence is enough to exchange more information than a thousand words.

The bloodshed before the Meridian Gate and the arbitrary decisions within the Hall of Supreme Harmony have washed away all their luck, their schemes, and their integrity.

All that remained was the desire to survive and the boundless fear of the figure perched high on the dragon throne.

I don't know how much time passed; it felt like an hour, or perhaps just a moment.

A hoarse voice, as if it had been sanded, drifted from the sedan chair opposite.

"Accept it."

Qian Longxi was calling him by his courtesy name.

Is your home...clean?

These few simple words, like an invisible icicle, instantly pierced through all the unspoken pretense between the two.

Is it clean?
The question was not asking the literal meaning.

The question was whether they had the emperor's eyes and the ears of the imperial guards.

The question was whether all their unspoken struggles and deepest fears at home had already been meticulously recorded in the files of some unknown spy and presented to the young emperor.

The greatest danger is no longer the game of reasoned debate that has been played out in the imperial court for hundreds of years.

The greatest danger is those around you: the maid who serves you tea, the servant who sweeps your courtyard, your trusted attendant, and the person you sleep with every night.

Qian Qianyi's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty; he felt his throat was so dry it was almost on fire.

“Bo Fu”.

He also addressed the other person by their courtesy name.

“From today onwards, you and I…” He paused, seemingly searching for a description that was not so desperate yet still fitting enough, but in the end, he gave up.

"...It's the meat hanging on the wall, waiting to air dry."

One sentence plunged the sedan chair opposite into an even deeper, deathly silence.

What a vivid, and chilling metaphor!

They had already been slaughtered, hung up, and lost all initiative. The only difference was that they didn't know when the knife would fall, or whether it would cut the first piece of flesh from the neck or the leg.

There was another long silence.

Both of them were acutely aware of the same fact: the emperor's spies were everywhere, infiltrating every nook and cranny. They were being watched.

"Let's each...clean house." Qian Longxi's voice rang out again, carrying a hint of weariness and determination.

"Okay," Qian Qianyi replied with just one word.

They didn't say another word, didn't discuss any solutions, and didn't comfort each other.

Because they all understood that, in such a situation, any alliance would only hasten death.

Once unbreakable political allies, faced with absolute imperial power capable of crushing everything, had only one option: to fight their own battles and prioritize self-preservation.

The sedan bearers received the signal and started the sedan chair again.

At the end of the dimly lit alley, they parted ways.

……

After Qian Qianyi's sedan chair landed, the vermilion gate of the Qian residence was tightly bolted shut from the inside by several trusted servants.

"Seal the mansion!"

Qian Qianyi's voice was so somber it could drip water.

"Call Qian An, Qian Fu, and Steward Zhou over."

These three men were: a servant who had been with him since childhood, an old man who had been in charge of purchasing goods for the household for many years, and an old steward who had been with him for over twenty years and was practically half a family member.

If even they cannot be trusted, then there is no one else in this vast Qian family mansion who can be trusted.

The study door slowly closed, shutting out everything outside.

After washing up briefly, Qian Qianyi sat in the armchair, scanning back and forth between the three familiar yet fearful faces.

These three were all his dirty confidants.

Qian Qianyi wanted to find the mole.

Like a seasoned official, he scrutinized every word on the file, trying to find flaws in the most subtle changes in ink.

he thinks.

He racked his brains.

He brought his keen eye, honed through decades of experience navigating the ups and downs of officialdom and observing countless people, to its fullest potential.

Then, he discovered in despair.

He...couldn't find it.

There are no flaws.

The loyalty and fear on each of these three people's faces seemed so real, and each of their words and actions could be reasonably explained.

This is what terrifies him the most.

When you look at the water's surface but can't see the stones at the bottom, it's not because the water is too clear, but because the water is... too deep.

So deep that you have no idea what's hidden down there.

Qian Qianyi's gaze finally fell on Steward Zhou, who had been with him for over twenty years and was now bowing down, barely daring to breathe.

The old man had been with him since he was a poor scholar. Steward Zhou knew everything about him, from his daily life and social interactions to some of his shady dealings.

He looked at the old man's gray hair, the wrinkles on his face from years of hard work, and his cloudy but always shrewd eyes.

In an instant, boundless doubt surged in his heart.

The more you trust, the more deadly it becomes.

The more you understand someone, the more likely you are to become the one who hands them the knife.

At this moment, his eyes were also filled with doubt, a cold scrutiny that even he himself found unfamiliar.

Butler Zhou seemed to sense the change in his gaze, and his body trembled even more violently. He knelt down with a thud: "Master...this old servant...this old servant is utterly loyal to you!"

Qian Qianyi remained silent.

loyalty?

In the face of the imperial prisons of the secret police and countless sums of money, what is loyalty worth?

He slowly closed his eyes.

Since that's the case, then we can only... presume guilt before conviction.

He waved his hand, his voice filled with exhaustion.

"Steward Zhou, you're getting on in years, and you've worked hard all these years. Starting tomorrow, go back to your hometown, buy a few hundred acres of land, and enjoy your retirement. You don't need to worry about the affairs of the manor anymore."

"Master!" Butler Zhou looked up abruptly, his eyes filled with shock and confusion.

"As for you two," Qian Qianyi turned his gaze to Qian An and Qian Fu, "it's the same. The accountant will give you enough silver to live comfortably for the rest of your lives. Leave the capital first thing tomorrow morning and never... ever come back."

He has no evidence.

He didn't even have the slightest clue.

This was the only way he could eliminate all potential risks.

What a tragedy this is.

……

At almost the same time, almost identical scenes were unfolding in Qian Longxi's residence.

This Grand Secretary of the Cabinet also failed to uncover the shadow lurking nearby.

He could only politely ask a few servants and staff members he considered suspicious, who were not particularly honest or spoke in a frivolous manner, to leave the mansion.

In the past, if someone was suspected by them, they might escape the death penalty, but they would certainly not escape punishment.

You won't talk? I'll beat you until you do!

You don't accept it? Then I'll teach you what rules are in a private jail!

But now, they dare not.

Who dares?

What if it really is a spy planted by the emperor?
That wasn't just hitting a servant; it was slapping the emperor in the face!

Would that young emperor, who was capable of beheading people at the Meridian Gate, care about the dignity of a Grand Secretary like you? He would only see it as a provocation.

Then the butcher's knife hanging over everyone's hearts will fall without hesitation.

Two literary and political leaders, in their own impregnable mansions, were rendered immobile by the shadow of imperial power!

They could only carry out a cleaning that was destined to be fruitless in the most frustrating and helpless way.

Because they all know it in their hearts.

The real venomous snakes may still be lurking in the deepest shadows, coldly watching their every move.

……

Late at night.

Qian Qianyi sat alone in his empty study.

On the table in front of him was a pot of fine Shaoxing wine and several delicate side dishes.

But he had no appetite and no sleepiness. The bloodshed of the day and the traitor within the mansion were like two venomous snakes coiling around his heart, tightening their grip and almost suffocating him.

He picked up the wine glass and drank it in one gulp.

The spicy liquor slid down his throat, but instead of bringing any warmth, it made his already tense nerves even more alert.

The more awake I am, the more terrified I become.

He kept drinking, one glass after another, trying to numb himself with alcohol.

It wasn't until late at night that he finally succumbed to the overwhelming exhaustion, staggered back to his bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed fully clothed.

My eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and my consciousness began to fade...

Then, he fell into a nightmare.

In his dream, he was wearing a dirty prison uniform, running frantically through the familiar streets and alleys of the capital city, which now seemed incredibly strange and grotesque.

"Seize him! Don't let the traitor Qian Qianyi escape!"

Behind him came the shouts of countless Imperial Guards, their voices like a death knell exploding in his ears. The sound of embroidered spring knives being drawn and iron boots clattering on the stone slabs merged into a torrent of death, relentlessly pursuing him.

He glanced back.

One glance was enough to terrify him.

The leader was none other than Li Ruolian, the Jinyiwei commander who had taken action without any expression on his face at the Meridian Gate Square!

run!
Qian Qianyi had only one thought: run!
He didn't know how long he had run or how many streets he had crossed. Finally, he broke out of the capital city and saw a long, murky river before him.

The turbid waves surged to the sky, emitting a deafening roar, as if they were about to devour everything.

He had nowhere to run.

The pursuers behind them were getting closer and closer.

A sense of integrity belonging to the literati welled up in his heart.

We cannot be humiliated!

We must not let them catch us and subject us to the tortures of the imperial prison!
He should drown himself to preserve his integrity! This would leave a lasting legacy in history, a testament to his courage and integrity.
Qian Qianyi staggered to the riverbank, the cold wind whipping up water vapor that stung his face like a knife.

He reached out and touched the icy river water with trembling hands.

A bone-chilling cold instantly spread from my fingertips throughout my body.

He hesitated.

In his dream, he clearly heard the monologue of his own heart.

"It's too cold... This water is too cold..."

“Death…death means the end of everything…all that wealth, all those beautiful wives and concubines, all those distinguished guests, all that retinue…it’s all gone…”

"Reputation? What use is reputation? When you're dead, you're just a bloated, stinking corpse in the cold river... Eventually, you'll be devoured beyond recognition by fish and shrimp..."

At that moment, the instinct for survival, like wildly growing vines, tightly bound his ridiculous so-called integrity, crushing it to pieces.

In that brief moment of hesitation...

The cold blade was already pressed against his neck.

Countless Imperial Guards had surrounded him.

He was easily captured and dragged back to the capital like a dead dog.

The final scene of the dream was the execution ground at Caishikou.

He was tied to a high rack, so that all the people could see him clearly during the death by a thousand cuts.

The emperor sat on the execution platform not far away, holding a cup of hot tea, watching him calmly, even with a hint of curiosity.

The executioner raised the first blade.

It was a very small knife, as sharp as a willow leaf.

It steadily cut off a piece of flesh from his chest.

The excruciating pain, like the most violent lightning bolt, instantly pierced through Qian Qianyi's entire body...

"what--!!!"

A bloodcurdling scream, so piercing it was almost inhuman, shattered the silence before dawn.

Qian Qianyi suddenly sat up in bed, his eyes wide open, filled with an extreme fear that he could not shake off.

He was drenched in sweat, his clothes soaked through, as if he had just been pulled out of the water. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently, and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of his throat.

"Master! Master, what's wrong?"

The servants at the door rushed in upon hearing the noise and lit the lamps.

All they saw was that the usually gentle and wise old man was now sitting on the bed, disheveled and looking like a madman, with unfocused eyes and muttering to himself.

"Get out...all of you, get out!"

With a hoarse voice, Qian Qianyi waved away all those who tried to approach him.

Barefoot and trembling, he walked to the window and pushed it open.

The cool morning air rushed in, bringing a slight clarity to his feverish mind.

The vividness of the nightmare still lingered; the excruciating pain of being slowly sliced ​​to death seemed to still remain on his skin.

The massacre during the day.

A mole within the government.

The death by a thousand cuts in my dream.

These three things crashed down like three mountains, shattering his confidence and integrity.

Qian Qianyi began to think frantically.

He couldn't just sit and wait to die; he couldn't wait for that knife to actually fall on his head.

After decades of navigating the treacherous waters of officialdom, Qian Qianyi came to understand one thing: to confront someone, the first thing to do is to find their weaknesses.

Then, he tried to find the young emperor's weakness!
Every human being has weaknesses!

What are the emperor's weaknesses?
The historian's pen? The public's opinion, and eternal infamy?

Since ancient times, this has been a sword hanging over the heads of all emperors. Even the most tyrannical emperors cared to some extent about their posthumous reputation.

but……

"He can kill whomever he wants. He can kill whomever he wants!" Qian Qianyi roared inwardly. "He dared to massacre dozens of newly appointed scholars at the Meridian Gate! He's not afraid of the condemnation of everyone in the world, so why would he be afraid of being recorded in history as a tyrant?"

This was his initial and most immediate fear.

An emperor who is not afraid of being criticized is like a madman without armor; you never know what he will do next!
Just as he was thinking about this point about not being afraid of history books, his brain seemed to be struck hard by a black lightning bolt!

A thought, ten thousand times more terrifying than all his previous fears combined, surfaced in his mind.

Qian Qianyi's legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the cold floor.

"No!"

"No...no...no! I was wrong! I was completely wrong! Utterly wrong!"

In his heart, he let out a desperate cry.

"He's not fearless! He's... completely... indifferent!"

Fear, and indifference.

These two words seem similar, but they are worlds apart!

Fear means you still care about this thing, you still have reservations, you are still weighing the pros and cons, and you have only temporarily suppressed this fear because of some more important goals. But this fear is still your weakness, your rein.

The reason the emperor didn't care was that this thing simply wasn't in his mind!
Qian Qianyi's body trembled uncontrollably again. He felt that he had finally seen the emperor's true face for the first time.

"What have emperors sought since ancient times?" Qian Qianyi murmured to himself, as if asking himself, or perhaps asking the darkness that filled the room.

"I pray for an everlasting empire, for the submission of all people, for absolute power in my lifetime... and for my name to be remembered in history after my death!"

"This reputation, this historical record, is the final rein! It is the last and most fundamental weapon that all civil officials use to restrain imperial power!"

"But what about him?!" Qian Qianyi's voice trembled with a hint of tears.

"He's always helping other people complete their family genealogies!"

"He dared to slaughter dozens of Jinshi (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations) who were about to become the emperor's protégés, right under the noses of all the civil and military officials of the entire Ming Dynasty!"

Two streams of turbid tears flowed from Qian Qianyi's eyes.

Those were tears of despair.

"A man without weaknesses...a man without fear...an emperor who doesn't care about eternal infamy and only cares about achieving immediate success!"

"How can you fight him?"

Qian Qianyi had no doubt that even if some colleagues followed Hai Rui's example and remonstrated with him to the emperor by carrying their coffins to court, hoping to exchange their good reputation for a stain on his historical record, the emperor might only think that they died a good death, a very timely death, which cleared away a hidden obstacle for him to implement his new policies!

Outside the window, it was already bright daylight.

A ray of morning light shone into the dark study, illuminating Qian Qianyi's aged, haggard face, which was filled with despair.

Overnight, this dashing and debonair Vice Minister of Rites, who had once been a leading figure in the literary world of Jiangnan, seemed to have lost all his energy and aged more than ten years.

He finally understood completely.

They were not facing a Jiajing Emperor who was more obsessed with power struggles, nor a Wanli Emperor who was more negligent and greedy, nor even a Taizu Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang who was more ruthless!

Those emperors of the past, no matter what, always acted within the framework of the rules.

But the one sitting on the dragon throne now is an emperor who has personally shattered all the rules!

In the imperial court, the ancestral laws upon which officials relied for checks and balances were, to him, mere scraps of paper to be discarded at any time; in the annals of history, the eternal infamy used by scholars and officials to warn the emperor was nothing but pointless ramblings in his eyes; and he never paid any attention to the opinions of the people, especially the gentry and powerful clans, whose voices could both carry and capsize the boat!
The emperor rejected all of this! He rejected all the potential contracts that maintained the balance between the emperor and his subjects!
They were facing a monster that had completely broken free of its reins and was acting solely on its own will!

Qian Qianyi sat blankly on the cold floor for a long, long time.

Finally, he managed to squeeze out a few words from deep in his throat.

The voice was hoarse and weak, filled with endless sorrow.

"What can we do... what can we do about it..."

(End of this chapter)