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

Chapter 216 You, with your thick eyebrows and big eyes, also...
Zhu Youjian ignored Wen Tiren's shock. With his hands behind his back, he continued to issue orders, pushing the war into a deeper and broader dimension.

"Newspapers alone are not enough. There are still so many illiterate people in my Great Ming Dynasty. But they are also my subjects, and they must hear my voice and see what I want them to see!"

"By imperial decree, with the Ministry of Rites taking the lead and the Censorate supervising, local governments are ordered to immediately adapt the stories in 'The Blood and Tears of Qufu' into storytelling, vernacular stories, and even operas! The best storytellers and the best opera troupes will be organized to perform these plays for me free of charge in teahouses, theaters, and rural markets throughout the country! The government must provide subsidies to ensure that this grand opera is performed throughout the entire country!"

"I want the farmers in the fields and the laborers on the docks to hear about the crimes of the Kong family during their leisure time! I want the mournful aria, like the 'Injustice to Dou E,' to be sung throughout the entire Ming Dynasty, and to forever etch the image of the white-faced villain, the Duke Yansheng, onto every stage!"

The emperor suddenly waved his sleeve, "I will make the crimes of the Confucius family the new 'Yang Family Generals,' the new 'Bao Gong Case' of our Great Ming Dynasty! They will become a national memory known to every woman and child, passed down from generation to generation! I will make it so that a hundred years from now, when children play, they will point to the child who played the villain and call him 'Old Thief Confucius'!"

When the final order was given, the study fell into a long, suffocating silence.

Wen Tiren and Tian Ergeng, one a civil official and the other a military general, both felt a chill run down their spines at that moment.

As they gazed upon the young emperor before them, they were momentarily transported to a state of awe, no longer seeing him as a mortal ruler, but as an unparalleled being who held the reins of power, manipulated hearts, and personally wrote history.

What the emperor seeks is to inscribe an unchanging iron law within the very essence of Chinese civilization for all generations to come.

Decades or centuries later, when people mention the Confucius family again, the truth of history will have long been blurred, but those heart-wrenching stories, those popular operas, and those deeply ingrained "secrets" will constitute their unshakable understanding of the Confucius family!
"Go and get it done." Zhu Youjian waved his hand wearily. "I want to see the first results within a day."

"Your subject... obeys the decree!" Wen Tiren and Tian Ergeng bowed and left the study step by step. When they turned and walked out the door, the night wind blew and they realized that their official robes were already soaked with cold sweat.

……

At midnight, the imperial edict was delivered to the temporary editorial office of the Da Ming Daily.

When a eunuch finished reading aloud the general outline concerning the three major columns and cultural derivatives, which was personally written by the emperor, the brightly lit courtyard fell into a moment of deathly silence.

All the writers, compilers, and painters stood frozen in place, as if struck by lightning.

Immediately afterwards, the silence was broken by a series of heavy breathing sounds, followed by an indescribable burst of fervor and excitement!
"Your Majesty... is wise!" An old scholar trembled with excitement, tears welling in his eyes. "Such a magnificent and unparalleled strategy is something this old minister... this old minister has never heard of before!"

"To kill someone is to destroy their spirit! This is the true meaning of killing someone is to destroy their spirit!" A young compiler's eyes shone brightly, as if he had seen a whole new world.

They were all top-notch masters of writing, so how could they not understand the terrifying power behind this general outline?

This is no longer writing an article; this is forging history! And they will be the craftsmen who wield the hammer themselves!
"What are you all standing there for!" The chief compiler slammed his fist on the table and roared, "Get moving! Have you all heard His Majesty's decree clearly?!"

"The manuscript of 'The Blood and Tears of Qufu' must be completely rewritten! According to His Majesty's wishes, it should not be a dry account of the case, but a story! Details! Emotion! Show me all your skills in writing eulogies and memorial texts! Every word should be written with blood and tears, so that those who hear it will be heartbroken and those who see it will shed tears!"

"The front page of 'Great Confucian Insights' will be reserved immediately! Grand Secretary Wen's article will arrive soon, in the largest bronze font, bolded! We want scholars across the land to see the Grand Secretary's magnificent discourse the moment they open the newspaper!"

"And... the 'Confessions of the Steward of the Confucius Mansion'!" The chief compiler's voice trembled with excitement. "Commander Tian of the Embroidered Uniform Guard will soon send the first batch of 'confessions.' Find a few writers with the most cunning style and the best understanding of the psychology of the common people to write and polish them! Remember His Majesty's requirements: details! Make the reader feel as if they are lying on the wall of the Duke of Yansheng's mansion, listening to those soft, panting breaths!"

On this night, the storm was officially given a soul and a direction.

Centered on Qufu, it spread throughout the entire Ming Empire, carrying the scent of ink and the stench of blood!
……

Jiangnan.

Initially, when news of the Qufu massacre arrived, the entire Jiangnan literati, and even the entire southern official and gentry class, were plunged into immense fear, anger, and a sense of shared hatred and sympathy.

"He's gone mad! The emperor has completely lost his mind! He actually dared to slaughter the descendants of the saints!"

"This is the Qin Dynasty reborn! The new emperor is going to burn books and bury scholars alive! We, the civilized people, will be swept away!"

"If even the Kong family is treated this way, what about us! If we don't rise up and fight back, the next ones to be executed by slow slicing will be you and me!"

In an instant, various denunciations and secret letters of collusion circulated like snowflakes throughout Jiangnan, and a huge storm seemed to be brewing in the prosperous Jiangnan region.

However, all their preparations seemed so pale and powerless, even somewhat laughable, in the face of the overwhelming offensive of the Da Ming Daily that arrived in Jiangnan in the following days.

When the bloody stories in the illustrated book "The Blood and Tears of Qufu" reached Jiangnan, the most basic compassion of the people was instantly ignited. However, the object of their compassion changed from the "descendants of the saint" in their imagination to the tenant farmers in the newspapers who had lost their families.

When even a high-ranking official like Wen Tiren, in his "Great Confucian Insights," cited classical texts to denounce Kong Yinzhi as a "traitor to the country" and a "traitor to the Confucian school," and argued that the emperor's actions were "to restore order and protect Confucianism," the ordinary scholars who were ready to follow suit hesitated and became confused.

When the mysterious and intriguing "Confessions of the Steward of the Confucius Mansion" began to be serialized, vividly exposing the extravagant, licentious, and filthy details of the Duke Yansheng's mansion to the light of day, public opinion completely reversed.

In all the teahouses and taverns, the focus of discussion was no longer "whether the emperor was cruel," but rather "so that's how the Confucius family got their money" and "so that the Duke Yansheng was really so extravagant!"
What should have been a solemn confrontation in the imperial court was rendered meaningless by the emperor through the means of gossip, storytelling, and drama. The difference in their abilities was immediately apparent.

Everyone was horrified to discover that they were trapped in a dilemma, unable to defend themselves.

If you continue to plead for the Kong family, you will be associating with the wicked who prey on the local people, acting indiscriminately and alienating yourself from the people of the world.

If you speak out against the emperor, you are willingly supporting a major scourge of Confucianism, and want that insidious disease to continue festering and oozing pus on the teachings of the sages!

For the first time, the officials and gentry of Jiangnan experienced the feeling of being unable to defend themselves.

Their voices were drowned out by the nationwide condemnation and gossip frenzy.

They went from anger to silence, and some even began to cautiously echo others in public in order to protect themselves.

However, a deeper fear, like a persistent affliction, gripped the hearts of all those in the upper echelons.

Qian Qianyi, Qian Longxi, and even Wang Zonghai, they didn't understand.

Given the emperor's swift and decisive methods, after completely crushing the Kong family in public opinion, the next step should be to march south and use the Jinyiwei's sword to purge these deeply entrenched and stubborn problems in Jiangnan.

However, no.

The emperor's entourage remained in Shandong, seemingly handling the aftermath of the Kong family's affairs at a leisurely pace, showing no intention of heading south immediately.

Although the Imperial Guards were like ghosts scattered throughout Jiangnan, they did not launch a large-scale arrest operation as expected.

This kind of waiting is more agonizing than direct slaughter.

The sword hanging overhead lingered, each breath a slow, agonizing torture of body and spirit.

Although the soldiers in Jiangnan were already corrupt and decadent, the Jinyiwei, which had risen rapidly in the past year or so, was no longer the powerful force it once was. Having lost the support of the central government and their alliances, they were now like fish on a chopping block, waiting for the young emperor in Shandong to remember them and decide when to strike!

Qian Longxi finally couldn't wait any longer. He wasn't from Jiangnan and didn't have the same deep attachment to this prosperous land as Qian Qianyi.

Throughout his official career, the ability to assess situations and protect oneself was ingrained in his very being.

In the stillness of the night, in the Qian family study.

"Brother Muzhai, we can't wait any longer!" Qian Longxi looked haggard, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. He no longer possessed his usual composure, and spoke to Qian Qianyi in a hoarse voice.

"Haven't you figured it out yet? The emperor isn't hesitating; he's training the hawk! He's enjoying watching us big fish from Jiangnan struggle and thrash in fear!"

Qian Qianyi sat silently in the rosewood armchair.

On the rosewood table in front of him, the latest edition of the *Da Ming Daily* was also laid out. He stared intently at the four striking bold characters "Great Scholar's Sharp Commentary," as if trying to see through the paper.

"The Confucian family has a history of two thousand years, with disciples and friends all over the world! Since the Han Dynasty, they have been the foremost scholars! Yet he can wipe them out at will, and even snatch the banner of 'protecting Confucianism' in the process! What are you and me, and people like Wang Zonghai, in his eyes?"

Qian Longxi's voice trembled with excitement, "Staying here means certain death! I don't want my home to be searched, much less be subjected to the death by a thousand cuts! I have spent my entire life as an official, and I am well-versed in literature and poetry. I cannot end up with my head severed from my body and be infamous for eternity!"

“Leave? Under the whole heaven, all land belongs to the king. Where can I go?” Qian Qianyi’s voice was extremely hoarse, revealing a deep sense of powerlessness.

"Siam! Luzon! Annam! Even Japan!" Qian Longxi suddenly stood up, a glint of madness flashing in his eyes. "The world is vast, there's always a place outside the emperor's control! I've already arranged a ship through a friend, and we'll set sail in three days. Brother Muzhai, we've known each other for many years, and I'll give you one last piece of advice: the Ming Dynasty has changed! Go! As long as you're alive, you can always find a way to survive!"

Qian Qianyi slowly closed his eyes, his face filled with defeat and desolation.

His reputation, connections, and public opinion, cultivated throughout his life, were as fragile as paper in the face of the emperor's unreasonable schemes and iron fist.

In the end, he could only wave his hand weakly and say wearily, "I...I was born and raised here, I can't leave. The Qian family of Yushan has its roots here, where else can I go...you...take care."

Qian Longxi gave him a deep look, sighed, and bowed in farewell: "Brother Muzhai, take care of yourself."

After saying that, Qian Longxi turned around resolutely and disappeared into the night.

In the empty study, only Qian Qianyi remained.

He sat there for a long time, his eyes flashing with despair, struggle, and fear of death.

Until his gaze fell once again on the "Great Confucian Scholars' Sharp Commentary" column in that newspaper.

Wen Tiren… Yang He… These former colleagues, some of whom he had once looked down upon as mediocre and opportunistic, were now prominently listed, using the most ornate language to cheer on and praise the emperor’s tyranny under the guise of “great Confucian scholars.”

They survived.

They not only survived, but they thrived.

They lived a more glamorous life than before and were more trusted by the emperor!

A crazy and audacious idea, like seeing a faint but alluring ray of light in the dark abyss, uncontrollably emerged from the depths of Qian Qianyi's heart.

Dignity? Integrity? The spirit of a scholar?
What is the value of 360 cuts in the face of slow slicing?

He reached out with trembling hands and picked up the purple-tipped brush he had used to write countless poems.

At this moment, his hands were shaking even more violently than Qian Longxi's earlier.

Since you can't resist, then... why not join?

Since the flag has already been taken away, then... why not stand behind the flag bearer and share that glory and power?
"Sucking the boil...biting the hemorrhoid..."

These four words slipped out unconsciously from Qian Qianyi's mouth.

He felt waves of nausea and intense self-contempt, but the will to survive gripped his throat like an invisible hand, crushing all his pride and arrogance to dust.

Qian Qianyi gritted his teeth and spread out a new sheet of Xuan paper with cloud patterns.

All the beautiful thoughts in my heart were transformed into the most explicit, shameless, and obsequious words.

He no longer talked about traditional rites and rituals.

What he wanted to write was "Record of the Holy Emperor's Southern Tour to Pacify the Bandits," in which he would compare the emperor to Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang, and compare the execution of Kong Yinzhi by slow slicing to the revolution of Tang and Wu and the execution of Guan and Cai by the Duke of Zhou!

Qian Qianyi lauded the upheaval instigated by the emperor as a monumental achievement that "reopened the world, recreated the universe, and ushered in an era of peace for all generations!"

Its elegant language surpasses even that of Wen Tiren's writing.

In the end, he pressed his personal seal heavily with blood-red ink, as if pressing his soul onto the cold paper. And at the end, he attached a shocking confession written in blood:
"...This sinful subject, Qian Qianyi, has lived in ignorance for half his life, and only now has he seen the light of day! Only now does he understand the painstaking efforts of His Majesty in restoring order! To prove this intention, this sinful subject is willing to risk his life to support His Majesty's new policies! Furthermore, I beseech Your Majesty to make it clear that from this day forward, my Qian family of Changshu will take the lead in Jiangnan and implement the policy of 'collecting taxes as a unified whole'!"
Not only that, but all outstanding land taxes owed since the Wanli Emperor's reign will be immediately paid! All land owned by the clan will be taxed at the highest rate of the dynasty, without question! We are willing to serve Your Majesty in creating an everlasting golden age, even at the cost of our lives!

As this article was sent to Qufu by members of the Qian clan via express courier, a copy of it also caused a huge stir among the gentry in Jiangnan.

Everyone was stunned.

Wang Zonghai was so angry that he trembled all over, holding the copy. He spat out a mouthful of tea and pointed at the words on the paper, unable to say a word for a long time.

Countless Donglin scholars from Jiangnan who regarded Qian Qianyi as their spiritual leader felt as if they had been stabbed in the back by their most respected teacher, leaving them bleeding and their faith collapsing.

The officials and gentry in Jiangnan looked at the glaring phrase "take the lead in paying taxes and make up for the arrears of previous years" as if they had seen a ghost!

You, Qian Qianyi!

You, the Donglin leader who has always considered yourself aloof and proud, are the pillar and guiding light of the scholars in Jiangnan!

He was the first to kowtow and beg for surrender?!
(End of this chapter)