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

Chapter 222 The Tomb of the Traitor

After all the verdicts and executions were announced, Zhu Youjian slowly rose from the dragon throne.

His gaze swept past the crowd and landed on the seventy-three heads piled up like a mountain in the center of the open space.

The stench of blood mingled with the foul smell of prisoners, making it nauseating.

But every soldier seemed oblivious, their faces only showing cold, murderous intent.

"Issue my decree!" The emperor's voice boomed like thunder, resounding above everyone's heads.

"Take the heads of these seventy-three ringleaders, mix them with lime and glutinous rice juice, and imprison them here forever! Build them a tomb for national traitors right here!"

The Tomb of a Traitor!
As soon as those three words were uttered, everyone present who was literate felt an even more insidious and chilling aura, more piercing than before, rushing from the soles of their feet straight to the top of their heads!
This is no longer a matter of physical annihilation.

This is a complete and utter crushing defeat!

The emperor wanted to build a monument of shame for these parasites of the nation whom he had personally beheaded, a monument that would never rest in peace!

He wanted to trample on the face and dignity of the entire gentry class of Songjiang Prefecture in the most humiliating way, and then crush them mercilessly!

Let their deaths become a shameful symbol that will forever serve as a warning to future generations!

"Your Majesty...you mustn't!" A Hanlin Academy official accompanying the emperor knelt down, his face ashen and trembling. "To build a tomb for a criminal, this...this is an unprecedented act! It goes against the natural order, and I fear...I fear it will be condemned by future generations!"

Zhu Youjian gave him a cold glance.

"Criticism? I want the whole world to see! I want those corrupt officials who harbor ill intentions, steal the people's wealth, and undermine the foundation of the country to see this!"

He pointed to the monument of shame that was about to rise from the ground, his voice resounding through the sky.

"This is the consequence of competing with the nation for profit and with the people for food!"

"I will also erect a monument to merits and demerits beside the tomb of this traitor! I will inscribe his heinous crimes upon it! I want future generations a thousand years from now to know why I killed him today! I want them to know that these people did not die from tyranny, but from their own greed and sins!"

"Order the *Da Ming Zhou Bao*! Publish the events of Songjiang in their entirety, word for word! Spread it throughout the two capitals and thirteen provinces of the Ming Dynasty! I want all officials, soldiers, and people of the land to read it carefully and take a good look!"

"I want them to die, their names to die too! May they never be able to rise again, and may their infamy last for ten thousand years!"

The emperor's roar, like the wrath of a god, echoed above the city gates. The official who had offered his advice had already collapsed to the ground, too afraid to utter another word.

Under the emperor's orders, the soldiers began to move out.

Amidst the complex gazes of tens of thousands of people, some filled with fear, others with numbness, and still others with glee, a terrifying tower, exuding a strong smell of blood and lime, rose inch by inch from the ground at the city gate of Songjiang Prefecture!

……

Just as the swords of the Songjiang Prefecture were raised high and the bloody tower was being built.

Thousands of miles away, in Nanjing.

As a secondary capital of the Ming Dynasty, Nanjing still retains its unique elegance and leisurely atmosphere.

The Ministry of Rites was filled with a peaceful atmosphere.

Dong Qichang, the Minister of Rites in Nanjing, a renowned calligrapher, painter, and scholar-official, was sitting with several colleagues and friends in the flower hall.

The aroma of fine Longjing tea filled the air, and on the table lay a newly framed painting, "Layered Peaks and Misty Rivers," one of his most prized works.

"This painting by Xuanzai Gong is exquisite in its brushwork and ink, deeply capturing the essence of Dong Yuan and Ju Ran, yet forming its own unique style. It is truly a masterpiece!" A vice minister exclaimed, clapping his hands in admiration.

Dong Qichang stroked his white beard, a smug smile on his face: "It's just some casual scribbling, nothing to brag about."

He was in a good mood.

News came from his clansmen in Songjiang that there had been a minor disturbance in the area, but nothing serious. In his view, no matter how big the matter, it had to be handled according to the rules of Jiangnan.

The emperor was young, and sending some lackeys to give him a warning was simply a way to get more money.

After some time, by spending some money to smooth things over, things will naturally calm down.

He had unparalleled confidence in the rules governing the empire's operation.

However, right now!

A squad of Imperial Guards officers, dressed in flying fish robes and carrying embroidered spring knives at their waists, stormed in like a pack of wolves breaking into a sheepfold.

The leading commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, with eyes like lightning, didn't even glance at the officials who jumped up in shock, but instead locked his gaze directly onto Dong Qichang, who was in the main seat.

"Insolence!" The vice minister was both shocked and furious. He pointed at the leader and shouted angrily, "Who are you? How dare you trespass into the government office and attack a second-rank official of the imperial court! Do you have no respect for the law?!"

The commander completely ignored his shouts, simply pulled out an imperial edict stamped with a vermilion seal from his robes, and without even unfolding it, merely waved it in front of Dong Qichang before coldly uttering two words:

"Take it!"

The smile on Dong Qichang's face froze instantly.

His mind went blank; he was completely unable to comprehend what was happening before his eyes.

He was Dong Qichang! A master of both calligraphy and painting, renowned throughout the land, with countless students, he was the leading figure in the scholarly circles of Jiangnan! Even the current emperor would probably have to address him respectfully as "Old Master"!
"You audacious madmen!" Dong Qichang finally reacted, slamming his fist on the table and shouting, his voice trembling with fear, "I am the Minister of Rites in Nanjing, an imperial minister appointed by the court! You... Ah!!"

His rebuke was interrupted by a painful scream.

The two captains showed him no respect whatsoever, pouncing on him like hungry tigers. One twisted his arm, the other kicked his knee, and the old minister, who had lived a life of luxury, was easily pinned to the ground.

A heavy, cold steel shackle clanged as it firmly locked his hands, which had once produced countless elegant calligraphy and paintings and were hailed as priceless.

"What...what are you doing...rebellion...rebellion..." Dong Qichang struggled as if he were insane, but his strength was no different from that of an ant in front of these ruthless captains.

Amidst the horrified gazes of the officials in Southern Zhili and the deathly silence of the entire Ministry of Rites, Dong Xuanzai, a highly respected scholar regarded as a model of virtue, was thus shackled with heavy chains. He was roughly dragged by the collar by a captain, like a dead dog, out of the flower hall and out of the yamen!

His valuable official hat fell to the ground and was crushed under someone's foot.

His graying hair was disheveled and messy; his former dashing and charming appearance had been replaced by a state of utter disarray and despair.

The Songjiang people built a Jingguan (a mound of stones) with blood, and the Nanjing people were still held captive.

The two pieces of news spread like lightning in parallel, reaching the entire Southern Zhili region at an unprecedented speed within just two days.

One stone stirs up a thousand waves?

No.

It's more like the Qiantang River tidal bore that has been gathering momentum for a long time finally surging in. It doesn't just stir up ordinary waves, but a devastating torrent—any reefs or dikes that dare to block its way will be instantly crushed into dust!

All the Jiangnan gentry and officials who were still observing, secretly conspiring, harboring illusions, and mocking the emperor's naivety were struck dumb the moment they heard the news, their souls scattered.

Countless mansions extinguished their lanterns overnight, and behind the tightly closed doors were faces filled with horror.

Secret letters that could not be brought to light and ledgers recording crimes were frantically thrown into the fire by the patriarchs with trembling hands.

The blazing firelight illuminated their faces, which were completely consumed by fear, and the air was filled with the smell of burning paper and a bone-chilling cold.

That Jiangnan region, known for its elegant poetry and refined culture, a region that used rules and human relationships to create a vast network that could even bind imperial power, died overnight!

(End of this chapter)