Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Late April, the seventeenth year of the Chongzhen reign. Huai'an Prefecture, granary.

"Wu Sangui, betrayed his lord, at Shanhaiguan, he invited wolves into the sea. The Tartars rewarded him with the title of Prince of Pingxi..."

A crisp nursery rhyme drifted from the alleyway outside the granary.

Zhu Kunyao huddled in the pile of moldy straw, feeling a sinking feeling in his heart as he listened.

His memories were still somewhat hazy; he only knew that he had traveled back to April of the Jia Shen year and become Zhu Cilang, the last crown prince of the Ming Dynasty.

By this time, news of the Qing army's entry into the pass and the late emperor's suicide had spread throughout Jiangnan.

The air was filled with the musty smell of years, and in the distance, the commotion of the barracks and the neighing of horses could be faintly heard.

The Ming Dynasty collapsed, and he, the crown prince, was reduced to a refugee, trapped in this granary.

He was unaware of why he was trapped here, only vaguely remembering the whispers of the people around him when he was brought in, "The pay... is gone... they'll all die..."

Before his thoughts had settled,

"Thump—!"

With a loud crash, the granary door was smashed open by the water and fire club.

A ray of sunlight pierced through, causing countless dust particles to dance wildly in the light.

Zhu Kunyao looked up and saw two dark figures blocking the doorway, blocking most of the light. Only their general outlines were visible against the backlight.

The man on the left is wearing a black short jacket, has triangular eyes, and is carrying a fire stick; he must be a government official's constable.

The person on the right was wearing a tattered suit of armor, with a scar running diagonally from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, and he walked with his toes pointing outwards.

The soldier with his toes pointing outwards shouted at the top of his lungs as soon as he entered the room:

"General Gao sent a message: if the pay is not received by noon, all 120 of your heads will be used as a sacrifice to General Liu's flag."

General Liu? General Gao?

Zhu Kunyao's mind raced: In Huai'an Prefecture, the only one who currently holds significant military power is General Liu Zeqing.

This man was arrogant and ruthless, far from being loyal and virtuous, and in history he surrendered to the Qing Dynasty early on... Most of the generals under his command with the surname Gao were Gao Jinzhong.

This is not a royal army, but a pack of jackals.

His heart tightened, and his body instinctively sprang up from the haystack.

As they shouted, the constables and soldiers shoved the old man and the young man into the warehouse.

Zhu Kunyao's gaze swept quickly across:

The boy had a round, chubby face, his brocade clothes were stained, and he moved slowly, looking like someone who had been pampered.

He then looked at the old man, who was about sixty years old, with a white beard and wearing a faded official robe. Although it was covered in stains, the peacock badge on his chest was still discernible.

Judging by the insignia, this person is at least a third-rank official. And given their current location in Huai'an, and their involvement with military pay… could it be…?

"Old geezer, stop dawdling and hurry up!"

The soldier with his toes pointed outwards looked impatient and shoved him away.

"Where's the pay? Where's it hidden?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes gleaming with a wolfish greed.

"We haven't seen a single grain of silver in three months. If we don't get paid soon, and the Tartars don't come, our knives will be drinking blood first."

Salary?

One hundred and twenty heads?

What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into?

Before a series of questions could be answered, the old man was pushed and staggered. With a "rip," the hem of his official robe was torn open by a splinter in the door frame.

"presumptuous!"

The old man's beard and hair bristled instantly, and his eyes flashed with fury.

"I once..."

"Pooh!"

The soldier interrupted rudely.

"I don't care who you are. General Gao has ordered that without pay, at noon, all of you are to be beheaded and sacrificed to the flag."

He snatched the fire-and-water stick from the constable's hand, weighed it in his palm, and...

"Let me loosen up your muscles, you old cod!"

Before he finished speaking, he swung the water-and-fire stick and smashed it down hard on the old man's shoulder.

The constable cried out in fright, "Ah!" The round-faced youth covered his head with his hands, closed his eyes, and screamed.

The stick whistled through the air, and the old man's white hair at his temples rose in the wind.

A figure moved even faster than the wind. Grass clippings were whipped up by the gust of wind and swirled in the light.

Zhu Kunyao's right hand shot out like lightning.

“Pah!”

With a crisp sound, the water-fire stick that was about to fall was caught steadily by him with one hand, the tip of the stick only an inch away from the old man's shoulder.

"Sir, please have mercy."

The soldiers, with their toes pointing outwards, tried their best to snatch the water-and-fire sticks back, but they remained unmoved.

He then realized with a start that the "refugee's" five fingers were like iron clamps, and that the eyes looking down at him were as cold as ice.

"You...you lowly commoner, you're asking for death!"

The soldier roared, his face flushed, large beads of sweat seeping from his forehead and running down the grooves of his scar.

"Sir, please calm down!"

Zhu Kunyao pointed with his left hand to the official robe on the old man's body.

"Sir, look closely. This is a dark crimson robe, the official uniform of a third-rank official in the imperial court."

He paused, staring intently at the soldier.

"How dare you, a mere soldier, commit violence against a high-ranking official of the imperial court?"

"According to the Great Ming Code, assaulting a high-ranking official, damaging his official robes, and intending to harm him are considered the most heinous offenses of 'great disrespect.' He shall be executed immediately, his family property confiscated, and his wife and children exiled."

"The imperial court? Hmph, the imperial court in Beijing is gone!"

The soldier stiffened his neck and stubbornly refused to admit it, but his eyes unconsciously avoided Zhu Kunyao's gaze.

Zhu Kunyao slammed the end of his stick down, causing the soldier to stumble forward. He seized the opportunity to close the distance.

"Although Beijing has fallen, the secondary capital still exists, and the legal system still stands."

"If this stick falls on you today, and the imperial court investigates in the future, will General Gao protect you, or will he use your head to appease his superiors?"

Upon hearing this, the soldier's strength finally dissipated instantly.

In these chaotic times, it is not uncommon for superiors to kill their subordinates to quell trouble in order to protect themselves.

Zhu Kunyao flicked his wrist, releasing the tip of the stick, and turned to face the old man. He clasped his hands together, bowed deeply, and his tone became respectful:

"I dare to say that you, sir, are a third-rank official in peacock robes, and in this critical situation, you are in charge of provisions and pay. Only the presence of a high-ranking official from the Ministry of War can ensure your authority."

His gaze was intense as he stared directly at the old man.

"May I ask, sir, are you the Junior Vice Minister of War (a respectful title for the Vice Minister of War) – the one who handles state affairs and is known as the Minister of Personnel?"

The old man's body trembled slightly, his cloudy eyes suddenly cleared, and his hunched back straightened unconsciously.

"It is indeed I, the official!"

"ah--!"

The round-faced youth gaped in astonishment, his face filled with disbelief.

"You...you can recognize who I am just by looking at my clothes?"

Zhu Kunyao could naturally guess it.

Nanjing, third-rank official, sixty years old, military pay... With so many clues converging, it seems that only Lian Guoshi, the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, fits the bill.

However, the fact that a high-ranking official in the Ministry of War had fallen to the point of being imprisoned alongside refugees suggests that the circumstances surrounding this event are likely quite unusual.

The round-faced man hurriedly turned to Lian Guoshi and bowed deeply.

"So it really is Master Lian. I am Han Yuanming, and my uncle Han Zanzhou is currently the military supervisor of Luzhou. I have often heard my uncle praise Master Lian's character and integrity."

Zhu Kunyao glanced at Han Yuanming, who turned out to be the nephew of Han Zanzhou, a palace eunuch.

The soldier, still unwilling to give up, pointed to the official robes of the man who was in charge of state affairs and argued:

"Empty...empty words, who knows what's going on with your tattered robe..."

Zhu Kunyao abruptly interrupted:

"Does the general know that in the tenth year of Chongzhen's reign, the Junior Marshal was appointed Governor-General of the three border regions of Shaanxi. He was entrusted with a critical mission and turned the tide. The late emperor specially bestowed this robe upon him to commend his merits."

He stepped forward, his imposing presence as firm as a mountain:

"The late emperor personally inscribed the four characters 'Loyalty and Diligence for the Nation' and bestowed them upon a plaque, a testament to the emperor's grace, which is known throughout the land."

"To destroy this robe and dishonor this subject is to dishonor the late Emperor and disregard the Emperor's grace. Your actions today are already unforgivable. If you continue to remain obstinate..."

His gaze swept over the soldiers and yamen runners.

"The number of people who will be sacrificed at noon will probably be more than just 120."

Before he finished speaking, he turned to Han Yuanming, his tone shifting to guiding:

"Young Master Han, your uncle works in the palace; has he heard of this matter?"

Han Yuanming was taken aback at first, then suddenly realized and hurriedly nodded:

"Absolutely! My uncle did mention the late Emperor bestowing the robe upon me. Sir, this is absolutely true; everyone in the palace knows it."

"Clang!"

The water-and-fire stick in the soldier's hand fell to the ground with a thud.

The color drained from his face, and his previous arrogance vanished completely.

His mind was buzzing, and all that remained were the blood-red characters "execute immediately" and "confiscate their property and exterminate their clan," as well as Gao Jinzhong's ruthless face.

He took two steps back, but still tried to put on a brave face:

"You...you mustn't be talking nonsense!"

But his trembling voice betrayed him. Finally, he completely panicked and turned to the constable, growling:

"Lock...lock the door! Let's go!"

The bailiff hurriedly picked up the stick from the ground and then retreated in a panic.

Watching the two figures disappear into the distance, Zhu Kunyao felt little satisfaction.

The arrogance of these thugs is a microcosm of the chaos of this apocalyptic world.

They may not have been unaware of the third-rank official's robes, but in this chaotic world, they deliberately chose to ignore and trample on them until they were shocked by the even greater "consequences."

These people were arrogant at first but obsequious later; they were not genuinely repentant, but merely temporarily intimidated by his combination of threats and scare tactics.

Lian Guoshi's hand trembled as he touched the tear in his official robe, looking at Zhu Kunyao, his voice already choked with emotion:

"The late emperor... the legacy of the late emperor still lingers..."

Tears streamed down his face, both for his own humiliation and for the profound sorrow that the glorious Ming Dynasty's system of rites and laws had been reduced to needing the words of a commoner boy to survive.

The fundamental principles and institutions of society have collapsed to this point.

He suddenly looked directly at Zhu Kunyao with a puzzled expression:

"Young man, who exactly are you? How do you know so much about court regulations, the past of the late emperor, and even old news from officialdom?"

Zhu Kunyao, National Short Weapon Champion (Practical Combat Championship).

Just hours ago he was on the awards stage, and now he is Zhu Cilang, the Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty.

However, he could not prove his identity.

The golden seal with a coiled dragon knob, the late emperor's last edict, was lost during the escape.