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

Chapter 142 Issue my decree: Open the granaries!
Outside the granary.

All the soldiers stood like stone statues, holding their breath and staring intently at the bottomless dark doorway.

Time seemed to stretch out infinitely at this moment, becoming viscous and oppressive.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths...

No one spoke, no one moved, and the surroundings were so quiet that the only sound was the pounding of one's own heart.

Sudden--

"what--!!!"

A shrill, piercing, yet extremely brief scream suddenly rang out from the darkness!

Then, the world fell completely silent.

died.

These two words simultaneously popped into everyone's mind.

Prince Zhu Cunshu of Qin.

The imperial princes and vassal kings of the Ming Dynasty, who had shared the fate of the nation since its founding, had their lives ended by the Emperor himself in this short moment, in the darkness unseen by anyone!

After a while.

The steady, mountain-like footsteps sounded again.

The emperor's figure emerged step by step from the deep darkness.

He stepped back into the sunlight.

His face remained calm and expressionless, as if he had not just gone to end the life of a vassal king with a two-hundred-year-old lineage, but had simply picked a withered and unsightly flower from the imperial garden.

Only the long sword in his hand was proclaiming to everyone what had just happened.

On the gleaming blade, a bright red line of blood slowly flowed down the exquisite patterns on the edge, eventually converging at the tip.

"Tick."

A drop of viscous blood dripped from the tip of the sword, hitting the dusty and blood-stained stone slab and splashing into an incredibly eerie blood flower.

This is the last trace left by Zhu Cunshu, the Prince of Qin, in this world.

Zhu Youjian walked up to Sun Chuanting, the governor of Shaanxi, who subconsciously took half a step back. He looked at the emperor with a complex emotion that was hard to describe: fear, respect, shock, and a hint of relief.

Zhu Youjian casually handed over the long sword that was still dripping blood.

Sun Chuanting was taken aback, then realized what was happening and hurriedly reached out his slightly trembling hands to solemnly accept it.

When his fingers touched the cold, slightly sticky hilt of the sword, his body involuntarily shivered.

He felt as if he had received not a sword, but the future of this devastated land of Shaanxi, and the king's unwavering trust that weighed heavily on him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

The emperor handed the sword that had just sentenced the vassal king to him!

The unspoken meaning contained within this deeply shook Sun Chuanting. The significance of this precious sword at this moment far exceeded "execution first, report later"; it was conveying to him a crystal-clear and ruthless decree through the blood of the Zhu family that had just been stained with its own.

Even princes who were descendants of the founding emperor could be killed if they caused trouble in their regions! So, in this Shaanxi region, from top to bottom, which corrupt official, which local tyrant or bully is not punishable by death?!

After Zhu Youjian finished doing all this, he no longer looked at anyone.

He glanced around at the soldiers, whose bodies were stiff with extreme awe and who seemed to have had their souls ripped out. His gaze finally settled on the granary behind them, which stood like a primordial behemoth.

He glanced at the mountain of grain, and it was as if through it he could see the people in Xi'an waiting to die in hunger and despair.

Zhu Youjian took a breath, and the overwhelming killing intent and scorching ferocity in his chest gradually subsided with each exhale, transforming into a deeper and more profound power. "Issue my decree,"

"Open a position!"

……

The news, like a gust of wind carrying the breath of spring, spread instantly throughout the lifeless, ghostly city of Xi'an.

At first, no one believed it.

When taciturn soldiers, still exuding a murderous aura, appeared on the streets and alleys carrying heavy sacks of grain; when dusty cauldrons were set up again, when the once more precious white rice was generously poured into them; when the long-lost, rich aroma of rice porridge, so enticing it brought tears to one's eyes, began to rise from every corner of the city…

The entire city of Xi'an was first plunged into a suffocating silence.

The starving refugees, reduced to skin and bones, cautiously peeked out from under the dilapidated eaves and from the dark corners of the walls, like frightened wild beasts. Their eyes, a mixture of numb suspicion and the last vestige of hope, were fixed on the milky white bubbling in the pot.

When the first ragged child, trembling, took a bowl of scalding hot porridge from a stern-faced soldier and wolfed down the first sweet sip, the pent-up despair that had been suppressed for so long, enough to drive a person mad, was finally unleashed.

"Wow--"

The child's heart-wrenching cries are the first sign.

Immediately afterwards, an old woman who had been starving for several days and was preparing to end her life with a rope held a bowl of porridge and burst into tears.

A man from Guanzhong who had buried his two children with his own hands stuffed porridge into his mouth with his dirty hands, letting scalding tears mix with the rice soup and flow down his already chapped lips, emitting a beast-like howl.

The cries echoed throughout the city, forming a continuous chorus.

From one person's sobbing to a street filled with weeping, it all eventually converged into a massive symphony that swept across the entire city, releasing all pain and despair!
As soldiers, ordered to distribute porridge, filled the porridge stalls both inside and outside the city, a startling piece of news spread—

This life-saving grain did not come from the government or from kind people, but was distributed by the Emperor himself, who personally ordered the opening of the granaries in Xi'an!
At first, it was unbelievable, like a divine intervention to save them.

"The Emperor? Didn't he say this morning that the court was so poor that it couldn't even afford disaster relief funds?"

"To hell with it! The emperor has come to Xi'an! The emperor has really come to Shaanxi!"

This thought exploded like a thunderclap in the minds of countless starving people!
The emperor has come to distribute grain!
The emperor hasn't abandoned us!

The Ming Dynasty has not abandoned its insignificant subjects!

This news, spread by word of mouth among the people and aided by the agents Zhu Youjian had already planted, spread like wildfire from Xi'an to the entire Guanzhong Plain and the whole of Shaanxi! A simple yet incredibly powerful belief reached every corner—

The emperor has arrived! He brought grain! And he brought... hope!
As this emotion, a mixture of relief and overwhelming joy, reached its peak, someone knelt down and, with all their might, let out a hoarse shout towards the direction of the Qin Prince's Mansion:

"Long live the Emperor!"

This shout was like a bright red spark, falling into the haystack that had long been soaked with suffering.

"Long live my emperor!"

"Long live our emperor! Long live! Long, long live our emperor!!"

A thunderous roar of support erupted from every corner of the city, from every street, and from every courtyard still lit up!

Zhu Youjian stood on the highest pavilion in the Qin Prince's Mansion.

Behind him stood Sun Chuanting and Li Ruolian, their hands at their sides.

The emperor stood by the railing, the night wind ruffling his robes, carrying clearly the cheers that seemed to make the earth tremble.

Beneath his feet, the city of Xi'an seemed to be the heart of the entire Shaanxi province, and this earth-shaking cheer was the first powerful thud from this giant who was slowly recovering from a long death!

　I'm typing away, I'm typing away!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)