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

Chapter 246 Two Dead Ends
The fifth day of the fifth lunar month is the Dragon Boat Festival.

Wuxi, in the Jiangnan region, on the shores of Taihu Lake, is devoid of the usual festive hustle and bustle and sunshine one would expect during a holiday.

From dawn onwards, the sky was shrouded in a thick layer of leaden clouds, pressing down so low that it seemed one could reach out and touch the damp, cold air.

Just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM), the misty summer rain began to fall obliquely like an unbreakable spider web, landing on the vast and shimmering surface of Taihu Lake, stirring up fine ripples that quickly disappeared without a trace.

The wind blew across the water, carrying the coolness from the depths of the lake, penetrating the thin Hangzhou silk summer shirt on my body and seeping straight to my bones.

The main venue for the "Jiangnan Scholars' Discussion" was set up on a huge open-air platform on the shore of this lake.

This platform was originally built by the locals to worship the water god. It is backed by the vast Taihu Lake and faces the boundless blue waves, offering a wide view and a magnificent atmosphere.

At this moment, however, it has been transformed into a stage that determines the fate of countless people.

The banners on the stage were half-furled, soaked by the rain, and hung limply.

Below the stage, thousands of scholars, gentry, and commoners who had come from all over Jiangnan gathered densely in the rain, holding all kinds of oil-paper umbrellas. From a distance, they looked like a tangled cluster of fungi growing in the mud, and the buzzing of their discussions never stopped.

"I heard that today, Minister Qian is going to petition the court on behalf of us scholars from Jiangnan!"

"It's not just petitions; I've heard that Mr. Zhang Puxi and Mr. Chen Wuzi of the Fushe Society have prepared ten-thousand-word petitions to correct His Majesty's misconceptions!"

"Qian Zongbo previously fell into the water and was again favored by the Emperor. Now he is presiding over the important discussion. This is truly a great favor from the Emperor. Who can say it is inappropriate?"

Amidst the clamor, Qian Qianyi, dressed in a brand-new seven-beam crown and blue robe with cloud and goose embroidery, slowly ascended the high platform, surrounded by a group of officials.

Although his face was slightly pale due to his lingering old illness, his eyes gleamed with a fanatical excitement.

He looked around at the faces below the stage looking up at him, and listened to the discussions carried on the wind, a mixture of awe and expectation. A long-lost sense of pride and control, the feeling of being in the spotlight of thousands, welled up in his heart.

Qian Qianyi walked steadily to the main seat in the center of the high platform, which was a rosewood armchair covered with brocade. He calmly straightened the hem of his robe, sat down slowly, and his movements were graceful and dignified, showing the demeanor of a former literary leader.

He was smug and even felt a ridiculous sense of pride: Even though I had become a laughing stock, in the end, the fate of the scholars in Jiangnan was still in my hands, Qian Muzhai.

Below the steps, hundreds of seats had already been set up on both sides.

The core members of the Fushe Society, led by Zhang Pu and Chen Zilong, sat upright in the chief seat on the left.

They all wore square headscarves and Confucian robes, with solemn faces and sharp eyes.

In their view, today's meeting, ostensibly a "public discussion," is in reality a "court debate."

They had already prepared countless arguments to confront Qian Qianyi, this spineless coward, and to take this opportunity to show the emperor the unyielding spirit of their generation of scholars who "established a heart for heaven and earth and a destiny for the people."

The crowd was filled with righteous indignation, just waiting for a trigger to erupt!

Everything seemed to be going according to Qian Qianyi's plan. The oppressive weather, the somber atmosphere, and the passionate comrades would all become the perfect backdrop for him to set things right.

He will swallow his pride and bear the humiliation, and with the tragic spirit of "If I don't go to hell, who will?", he will complete the task entrusted to him by the emperor.

The local official's lengthy opening remarks finally ended, and the rain seemed to have subsided somewhat.

Qian Qianyi cleared his throat, and a close attendant standing beside him immediately offered him a cup of pre-rain Longjing tea.

He deliberately slowed his movements, gracefully took the teacup, and brought it to his lips. The warm tea slid down his throat, dispelling some of the coolness and suppressing the trembling in his heart caused by excitement.

He had even clearly planned his future: after today, he would completely clear himself of suspicion of being a traitor and become the emperor's most reliable eyes and ears in Jiangnan. He might never return to the court, but living a wealthy and leisurely life in Wuxi and enjoying his later years while regaining his reputation would not be a bad thing.

Qian Qianyi put down his teacup and slowly took out the speech he had painstakingly written over several days and nights from his sleeve.

Every word on it was precious, every sentence heartbreaking, portraying his former comrades as parasites who harmed the country and its people, and dissecting the deep-seated problems of the Jiangnan literati in a completely thorough manner. He took a deep breath and was about to speak, using his still loud voice to open the curtain on this carefully planned drama of betraying friends for personal gain.

"Lord Qian, please wait."

A voice suddenly rang out, calm and clear, yet carrying an unquestionable, cold authority, instantly drowning out all the noise in the room.

The crowd looked in the direction of the sound and saw that a Jinyiwei official dressed in a bright red flying fish robe and with an embroidered spring knife at his waist had somehow appeared in the center of the high platform.

He was tall and slender with a fair complexion and a faint smile on his lips, but his eyes were like two bottomless, icy pools, devoid of any emotion.

It was Li Ruolian, the Deputy Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Qian Qianyi's heart sank suddenly, as if someone had grabbed it. He recognized this person!
But why is he here?

Ignoring Qian Qianyi's surprised and uncertain gaze, Li Ruolian walked straight to the original host's seat and addressed the thousands of people below the stage in a loud voice: "By order of His Majesty, His Majesty highly values ​​the discussions among the scholars of Jiangnan today. In order to prevent these discussions from becoming empty and misleading, His Majesty has specially ordered me to speak on behalf of the Emperor to clarify the matter."

"To inquire on behalf of Heaven?" These words exploded in the hearts of all the scholars.

Li Ruolian's smile deepened, but her eyes grew colder.

He slowly turned to Qian Qianyi, whose face was ashen, and said, “Lord Qian, before we have a heart-to-heart talk, let’s clarify some misunderstandings so that our comrades in Jiangnan can see the true nature of the people around them.”

Before he finished speaking, he waved his hand violently.

"Clang!" There was a loud noise.

Several burly Imperial Guard captains worked together to lift a heavy camphor wood chest and slammed it down on the center of the platform, sending wood chips flying everywhere.

The lid of the box was roughly opened, and its contents were dumped out all at once, scattered like a pile of moldy garbage at Qian Qianyi's feet.

There were stacks of yellowed letters, thick ledgers, and some exquisite jade artifacts and antiques, as well as copies of land deeds and contracts.

Qian Qianyi's pupils instantly contracted to pinpoints. He stared intently at the familiar objects on the ground, his blood seemingly freezing at that moment.

Li Ruolian walked over leisurely, bent down to pick up a letter, patted it lightly as if dusting it off, then unfolded it and read it aloud, word by word, to Qian Qianyi and to everyone below the stage: '...When my brother is in court, whatever his orders, Wang Dengku and others from Shanxi would dare not disobey to the death. A mere 100,000 taels is but a drop in the ocean; we only hope that Your Excellency can open a door of convenience, then the subsequent repayment will be even more considerable...'

"Lord Qian, is this letter a secret letter you exchanged with the Wang family of Shanxi merchants in the fifth year of the Tianqi reign? Did the 100,000 taels mentioned in the letter later all end up in your villa's storeroom?"

Li Ruolian picked up another ledger and opened it to a page: "'...Wang, a salt merchant from Yangzhou, paid a 'fee' of 36,000 taels of silver and 500 taels of gold to Lord Zongbo in exchange for salt permits from Lianghuai...' Lord Qian, has this 'fee' been recorded and taxed?"

"...The Prince of Fu, desiring the profits from the textile industry in Jiangnan, secretly sent someone to meet with you at the Donglin Academy...", "...To protect its fiefdom from being surveyed, the Prince of Chu's residence offered you a thousand acres of fertile land..."

"...The Korean envoy secretly presented ginseng and pearls, requesting that Your Excellency speak well of their king before the Emperor..."

Li Ruolian's voice wasn't loud, but in the deathly silence of the rain, it reached everyone's ears clearly.

As he read each item, a captain would hold up the corresponding letter or ledger copy and display it to the audience.

Each and every single one of these cases is irrefutable and irrefutable.

Qian Qianyi's body began to tremble uncontrollably, and his brand-new Confucian robes looked incredibly ridiculous and glaring at that moment.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but found that his throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and he couldn't make a sound.

Cold sweat mingled with rainwater, streaming down Qian Qianyi's forehead.

The atmosphere in the audience plummeted from its initial excitement to freezing point.

The scholars of the Fushe Society were all ashen-faced and dumbfounded.

The "leader of the literati" and "head of the Donglin Party" in their hearts, the predecessor whose scholarship and status they still had to acknowledge despite their contempt for his betrayal, was actually such a corrupt and treacherous person who sold official positions and colluded with merchants and princes!
Zhang Pu's face turned from red to white, then from white to green. His knuckles turned white from gripping the folding fan so tightly. Chen Zilong's eyes widened in disbelief.

They prepared impassioned speeches and elaborate plans to turn the tide. They envisioned countless scenarios of debating with a tyrannical ruler and treacherous officials, but they never expected that the first sacrifice of this "public debate" would be the flagship figure of their own camp!
This is not only a trial of Qian Qianyi, but also a merciless lash out at the beliefs of the entire Jiangnan literati!

Zhang Pu and the others tried several times to stand up and refute the accusations, wanting to denounce the Imperial Guards for framing them. But every time they made a move, the seemingly easy-going Imperial Guards would cast sharp, dagger-like glances at them, and one hand would inadvertently press on the hilt of their sword, forcing all their impulses and anger back into their chests.

The entire place was deathly silent, with only the sound of raindrops hitting the oil-paper umbrellas and the lake surface.

Li Ruolian admired Qian Qianyi's absent-minded appearance, as if she were admiring a piece of porcelain about to break.

He tossed the last letter in his hand at Qian Qianyi's feet, walked up to him, and stopped beside the rosewood armchair covered with brocade.

The entire place was deathly silent, with only the sound of raindrops hitting the oil-paper umbrellas and the lake surface.

Thousands of eyes below the stage were fixed on the two men on the platform, trying to discern the fate that the Donglin leader would face from every subtle movement they made.

Li Ruolian slowly leaned down and whispered in Qian Qianyi's ear.

To outsiders, his actions seemed to be comforting the frightened veteran of three reigns.

However, Li Ruolian's slightly smiling face was more terrifying than a demon in Qian Qianyi's eyes.

Li Ruolian lowered her voice to an extremely low pitch, clearly delivering each venomous word to Qian Qianyi's ears in a volume only the two of them could hear.

“Lord Qian, do not be afraid. His Majesty cherishes life and does not wish to see scholars die in blood, much less bear to see a senior figure like you beheaded.”

These gentle and comforting words sent chills down Qian Qianyi's spine.

"His Majesty has granted you two paths," Li Ruolian said in her gentle tone, "one is a path to life, and the other is a path to death. The choice is entirely up to you."

His gaze swept over the vast expanse of Taihu Lake, which appeared even more desolate in the rain.

“First, a dead end.” Li Ruolian’s tone carried a devilish temptation. “If you feel that you have failed the Emperor’s grace and your reputation, and still retain the integrity of ancient patriots, and are willing to follow Qu Yuan’s example and throw yourself into this lake to express your will… His Majesty will be very pleased and respect you as a man of integrity, and will never implicate your family.”

Qian Qianyi's body swayed violently, almost collapsing off the armchair. He stared at Li Ruolian in disbelief, his lips trembling, but he couldn't utter a sound.

Li Ruolian seemed oblivious to his near-collapse, maintaining her whispered tone. She slowly pulled out a vermilion scroll from her sleeve, silently unfurling it a few inches before Qian Qianyi's eyes like a painting, revealing several striking names such as Zhang Pu and Chen Zilong.

"Secondly, a way out." Li Ruolian's voice became even more cruel, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, "Or, His Majesty will give you a chance to atone for your crimes. You only need to point out the crimes of the people on this list one by one in front of your comrades in Jiangnan."

He paused, then unfolded the list a little more in front of Qian Qianyi, adding the most fatal sentence:
"Then...you will personally push these three ringleaders into Taihu Lake, cleaning up the mess on behalf of His Majesty. After this is done, you will be the number one hero in restoring order. Your past sins will be wiped clean. His Majesty...will allow you to retire to your hometown and live out your old age in peace."

To live means to personally push one's former comrades into the lake, using their lives to save one's own, thus ruining one's reputation and nailing one to the pillar of shame in the literary world, never to rise again.

He died, but he preserved his reputation and protected his family.

One is physical death, the other is the complete death of spirit and reputation.

Both paths are dead ends!

Li Ruolian straightened up, still wearing that polite yet distant smile. He said nothing more, but gently placed the list, as thin as a cicada's wing yet as heavy as Mount Tai, on the rosewood table in front of Qian Qianyi, right next to his carefully prepared speech.

The process was extremely quiet.

The crowd below the stage was puzzled. They only saw the Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard whisper a few words to Qian Qianyi, put down a scroll, and then step aside.

They couldn't see Qian Qianyi's expression, but they could see that his already pale face had completely lost all color at this moment, becoming like a sheet of rice paper soaked in rainwater.

His whole body froze.

Between heaven and earth, only the monotonous sound of the lake water lapping against the shore and Qian Qianyi's increasingly heavy breaths, like the panting of an old bellows, remained.

His withered gaze was fixed between the vermilion list and the cold lake in front of him, shifting back and forth!

(End of this chapter)