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

Chapter 180 Today they're messing with the fields, tomorrow with the salt, and the day after tomorrow with our heads.

rain.

The winter rain in Jiangnan begins at night and shows no sign of stopping for a moment.

It is neither as flamboyant as the torrential rains of the North, nor as gentle as the drizzle of spring.

The rain was gloomy and chilly, carrying a damp cold that could seep into one's bones.

The dense, fine rain shrouded the entire world in a gray, despairing curtain.

Donglin Academy, Wuxi.

This sacred place, almost deified in the writings of scholars and poets, is now being relentlessly washed away by the endless rain.

Rainwater streamed down the dark tiles and upturned eaves, splashing up tiny droplets on the bluestone slabs before converging into murky streams that flowed through the courtyard, carrying withered leaves and mud, their destination unknown.

The world-famous stone archway at the entrance of the academy stood silently in the rain.

The line on the right, "The sound of wind, the sound of rain, the sound of reading, all sounds enter the ear," now sounds only endless irony.

The wind howled, like the low weeping of ghosts; the rain pattered, as if the heavens were mourning the end of an era. As for the sound of reading, which was once the source of pride, it had long since vanished without a trace.

What replaced it was a deathly stillness even more profound than the empty valley.

The unique, damp smell of Jiangnan, a mixture of water vapor and soil, was amplified in the air.

A deep breath reveals the slightly musty scent of old, damp books deep within the library. This scent, once a source of pride for scholars, now smells only of decay and decay.

Beneath this musty and bookish smell lies a deeper, fainter, yet more unsettling aroma.

That was... the smell of fear.

Like a hungry beast, it lurked silently in the shadows, scrutinizing this courtyard that once represented the principles of justice and the integrity of scholars with its cold eyes.

squeak-

A faint sound, almost drowned out by the rain, came from the most inconspicuous back door of the academy, a place where servants usually bought and disposed of miscellaneous items, but now it became the only flowing entrance tonight.

One, two, three... one after another, four sedan chairs, completely black and without any insignia, slid out from the dark alleys in different directions like ghosts, and silently stopped on the muddy open ground outside the back door.

The sedan chair was wet with rain, giving it a dull, dark appearance, as if it were formed from the thick, impenetrable darkness of the night itself.

The sedan curtain was lifted, and the people who stepped down moved with extreme speed.

Without exception, they were all draped in heavy raincoats or oilcloth cloaks, and wore wide straw hats with the brims pulled down so low that their entire faces were hidden in shadow.

They need no words; their trusted servants, who are already waiting inside the door, will silently step forward with a lantern covered by an oil-paper lampshade, bowing to lead the way.

Each of these people possessed an identity that could shake the prosperous Jiangnan region with a single stomp of their foot.

They are the true masters of this land of fish and rice, the powerful clans that have been in official positions for generations, and the wealthy merchants whose fortunes rival those of a nation.

They were used to being high above others, used to being looked up to, and used to deciding the life, death, honor, and disgrace of countless people with a single glance or a single word.

But tonight, they wrapped themselves up like a bunch of rats that couldn't stand the light.

By the flickering light of the lanterns, one could see that they wore expensive soap boots, yet they stepped into the mud without hesitation, letting the sewage splash onto their carefully sewn hems.

They walked through the deep corridors, around the artificial hills and ponds, each step extremely fast, as if an invisible death warrant was behind them.

Leading the way was a slightly plump elderly man from Kunshan, the current patriarch of the Gu clan. One of his hands was hidden under his cloak, tightly clutching a string of sandalwood prayer beads. The beads were spinning rapidly between his fingers, almost sparking, but his face showed no trace of a monk's calmness, only visible anxiety.

What he was thinking about was no longer the sage's principles of investigating things and extending knowledge, nor the family precepts of self-cultivation and family harmony.

Before his eyes swayed the vast expanse of fertile land belonging to his family. Just a few days ago, the government suddenly sent a group of so-called surveyors, carrying some strange-looking things he had never seen before, to point out, measure, and register his family's land.

At first, they thought the decree from the capital that "all officials and gentry should pay taxes and perform their duties equally" was just a joke made by the young emperor who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth.

Since the previous dynasty, the Jiangnan region has enjoyed preferential treatment and exemptions. This is an ancestral law and a dignity inherent to scholars.

Who dares to make a move? And who can make a move?

But now, that cold iron ruler is actually measuring their own land.

This decree was no longer just a piece of paper; it was a guillotine raised high, gleaming with a chilling light, hanging over the centuries-old foundation of the Gu family.

The blessings of ancestors, the glory of the family, the wealth of descendants... all of these can be wiped out completely by this one stroke.

Closely following behind him was a young man with an exceptionally pale face.

He was the most capable member of the Chen family of Haining in this generation and was sent to represent the family.

The Chen family's foundation was land, but what truly made them incredibly wealthy was their shady "side business"—maritime trade.

For many years, they collaborated with their friends who were based at sea to transport silk, porcelain, and tea from Jiangnan to other places, and to bring back spices, treasures, and silver from overseas.

This golden sea route enriched countless families like the Chen family, to whom the imperial court's ban on sea travel was nothing more than a piece of waste paper that could be torn up at any time.

But this time, it's different.

After the new emperor ascended the throne, he acted swiftly and decisively. The Imperial Guards began to appear at the most important ports, such as Taicang and Songjiang Prefecture, with unprecedented frequency. They investigated nothing but smuggling.

If it were just these lackeys from the capital, that would be fine. No matter how fierce the Embroidered Uniform Guard is, their reach can't extend that far. The Jiangnan region is a dense network of waterways, and there are bound to be loopholes. At worst, since things are tense right now, they can just switch to a smaller port and spend more money to find a way out.

What truly chilled them to the bone was another piece of news from Fujian that was enough to terrify all maritime powers—Zheng Zhilong, the "Sea Emperor" who held sway over the seas and whom even the government navy could not do anything about, had actually been recruited by the real emperor!

The maritime overlord who once drank and made friends with them, who was half a partner and half a blackmailer, the man who accepted huge sums of money from them and protected their smuggling fleet, has now transformed into the Jinghai Admiral appointed by the emperor himself!
His once mighty fleet, which had swept across the seas and was invincible, was no longer a protective umbrella that they could buy off with money. Instead, it became another, sharper and more deadly guillotine hanging over their heads by the imperial court!

The Imperial Guards blocked the port on land, and Zheng Zhilong blockaded the sea routes.

This is truly... a dead end on land and a dead end at sea!

The emperor's determination to strengthen coastal defenses and ban smuggling was no longer an empty threat, but had transformed into a giant net that stretched from the sky to the sea, trapping them tightly.

The cold blade had already touched the skin of their throats, and with just a thought from the young emperor, it could easily sever their blood vessels.

Further behind was a middle-aged man wearing a dark brocade robe with floral patterns.

Even in such a disheveled rainy night, the fabric of his clothes still shimmered and gleamed, clearly a Shu brocade worth a fortune.

However, the luxurious silk was now soaked through with cold sweat, as if it had just been pulled from the water.

Wang Hai, the chief steward of the Yangzhou Salt Merchants Association, is backed by the entire Anhui merchant group, whose wealth rivals that of a nation.

Salt is their lifeblood.

For over a century, they have relied on the imperial court's monopoly on salt permits, making this white gold a part of their family's bloodline.

They even have the power to influence the promotion of officials in a province, and the ability to cultivate a large group of upright officials in the capital to advocate for their interests.

But the young emperor who sits high on the throne wants to cut off the source of the problem!

The Salt and Iron Bureau, a monstrous government office, is about to be established in the capital.

This government office had only one purpose—to nationalize all the profits from salt and iron.

This is no longer cutting flesh from their bodies; this is swallowing them whole, skin and bones!
Wang Hai could almost smell a distant, pungent stench of blood wafting from the capital's vegetable market.

At the bottom of the crowd were two young men: Zhang Pu and Zhang Cai, leaders of the Fushe Society and the leading figures of the new generation of scholars in Jiangnan.

Unlike the fear and greed of others, their faces showed more anger and resentment at the ruthless crushing of their ideals by reality.

Farmland, maritime trade, salt profits... these are important to them, but they are only superficial. What the emperor is doing is shaking their foundations, and even the very foundation of the Ming Dynasty!

The new emperor decreed that subjects such as "mathematics" and "investigation of things" to be added to the imperial examinations, which were considered "extraordinary skills and crafts," and that the weight given to classical texts and policy essays be significantly reduced.

This is simply the most ridiculous thing in the world!

The way of sages has guided the direction of Chinese civilization for thousands of years, but now it is being compared with the skills of craftsmen?

Even worse, the Imperial College in the capital began translating and printing so-called scientific classics from the West, covering topics such as astronomy, geography, and the human body. In their view, this was simply heresy and a violation of Chinese culture by barbarians!

The emperor's task was not merely to destroy the livelihoods of scholars who "learned literary and martial skills to serve the imperial family."

He is digging up the roots of scholars, excavating the tombs of Confucius and Mencius! What he wants to destroy is the moral code and tradition that scholars take pride in and rely on for their livelihood!

In the eyes of these young people, murder and robbery are nothing more than ruining a person's life.

The emperor's actions were an attempt to destroy the spirit and the moral order! It was a grave crime of abandoning propriety and music and subverting human ethics!

……

Each person was preoccupied with their own thoughts and their faces were solemn as they walked through the many courtyards, finally arriving at a lecture hall at the deepest part of the academy.

This place was once where the leaders of the Donglin Party discussed national affairs and commented on figures across the country.

At this moment, only a few thick tallow candles were lit in the lecture hall. The candlelight was dim and the light was insufficient, casting huge and distorted shadows on the walls and beams, like lurking ghosts.

In the center of the lecture hall, behind a large rosewood table sat an elderly man with white hair and beard but a vigorous spirit.

Qian Qianyi.

The former Vice Minister of Rites no longer had his usual composure and arrogance on his face; instead, his expression was more solemn than ever before.

His gaze swept over everyone who entered the lecture hall, his eyes deep, as if he could see through their deepest, most hidden fears.

Qian Longxi sat to his left.

Unlike Qian Qianyi's profound demeanor, Qian Longxi's eyes were sharp as an eagle's, as if he were ready to pounce on his prey at any moment.

Everyone has arrived.

The last person to enter slammed the heavy wooden door shut from the inside.

The sound of the bolt falling shut was particularly jarring in the empty lecture hall.

That sound seemed to have sealed off everyone's escape route.

The only sounds in the lecture hall were the incessant rain outside the window and the suppressed, heavy or light breathing of the crowd.

Everyone looked at Qian Qianyi, who was in the main seat, waiting for him to speak.

A deathly silence lasted for the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea.

Finally, Qian Qianyi made a move.

He slowly looked around at everyone present, his gaze sweeping from the prayer beads of the Gu clan patriarch in Kunshan to the pale face of the Chen clan representative in Haining, then to the soaked back of Steward Wang in Yangzhou, and finally resting on the young and angry faces of Zhang Pu and Zhang Cai.

Qian Qianyi didn't offer a single polite greeting or a word of comfort. His opening remarks were like a heavy iron hammer striking everyone's heart.

"Gentlemen," Qian Qianyi said slowly, each word carrying a chilling edge, "this late-night invitation is a matter of life and death, so let's not waste any more words."

Everyone's breath caught in their throats at that moment.

Qian Qianyi paused, seemingly gathering his strength, before continuing, his voice carrying an indescribable tremor—a tremor mixed with profound fear and extreme resentment.

"When disaster strikes, everyone flies away. This is how the ancients lived, and it's also the tacit understanding we had when we encountered trouble in the past."

His words were extremely blunt, even harsh.

These words were like an invisible slap in everyone's face.

However, no one refuted this.

Because it's true.

A deep fear flashed in Qian Qianyi's eyes, but more than that, it was the helplessness and determination that arose when he was forced into a desperate situation!

"But before our new emperor..."

His voice suddenly rose in pitch.

"It's not going to work!"

Looking at the surprised and uncertain expressions on everyone's faces, Qian Qianyi knew that he had to use the cruelest reality to completely shatter the last glimmer of hope in their hearts.

"Do you think the emperor just wants to prune a few disobedient branches?" Qian Qianyi's voice turned sinister. "Wrong! What he wants to do is uproot all of us!"

He pointed at the patriarch of the Gu family in Kunshan: "Old Master Gu, 'collective taxation' is meant to sever your roots! It will turn you from scholar-officials supported by the imperial court into commoners like peasants, who need to pay taxes to the court! From now on, land will no longer be your talisman, but a yoke around your necks!"

He then turned to the representative of the Chen family of Haining: "Nephew Chen, your family's maritime trade business is the lifeblood of the Jiangnan financial clique. The crackdown on smuggling is to cut off this lifeblood! To ensure that the wealth of Jiangnan is no longer under your control, but flows entirely into His Majesty's private treasury! Do you think you are dragons crossing the river? In his eyes, you are nothing more than fattened pigs and sheep, waiting to be gutted!"

His gaze fell on Wang Hai, who was covered in cold sweat: "Steward Wang, the salt permits that you Huizhou merchants rely on for your livelihood are a malignant tumor that competes with the country for profit. The establishment of the 'Salt and Iron Bureau' is precisely to uproot this tumor! Do you think you can be richer than the country? The emperor wants you to know that on this land, he is the only country!"

Finally, his gaze settled on Zhang Pu and Zhang Cai, and this time, his tone was filled with a sense of shared sorrow and indignation.

“And you, and us!” He pointed to himself, then to the two young men. “We who have studied the classics, the principles we uphold, and the integrity we represent are the foundation of our lives!”

"But what about him? He wants to reform the imperial examination system and promote Western learning! He wants to make a group of craftsmen who only know tricks and skills equal to us! He wants to tell the world that the sages' way that we have believed in for thousands of years is actually... worthless!"

"He's not fighting against any one of us, not against any one of our families!" Qian Qianyi slammed his hand on the table, causing the candlesticks to flicker and the light to shake violently.

"He's fighting against the entire Jiangnan region, against all of us! This is a life-or-death war with no room for maneuver!"

"Fly away separately?" Qian Qianyi let out a shrill, cold laugh that echoed in the empty lecture hall, sounding incredibly jarring and desperate. "Where to fly? This sky is his sky! This land is his land! He has already spread a net that covers the sky and the earth, and every one of us is firmly caught in it. No one can escape!"

"Today it's the fields, tomorrow it's the salt, and the day after tomorrow it's our heads!"

"Gentlemen," Qian Qianyi slowly stood up, his figure casting a huge shadow in the candlelight, enveloping everyone present.

His voice returned to calm at that moment, but beneath that calm lay a madness and resolve more terrifying than any roar.

"We have been pushed to the edge of a cliff."

"One step forward is an abyss, where you will be shattered to pieces."

"And behind us..." Qian Qianyi said through gritted teeth, "there is no way to retreat!"

Outside the window, the rain was falling harder.

A pale bolt of lightning ripped through the night sky, instantly illuminating every pale face in the lecture hall.

(End of this chapter)