Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

As Zhu Cilang returned to his seat in the green tent, a gust of wind swept past outside the hall, causing the black curtains to flutter loudly.

He placed one hand on the gilded armrest, his voice echoing through the palace:

"Censor Shen Chenquan!"

"Your subject is here!"

"I require you to sign and affix your seal, using the Censorate's seal as proof."

"What time of night did you hear those demonic words last night? Where in the mansion were they heard from? Who told you?"

Shen Chenquan pondered for a moment, then replied:

"Last night at the second quarter of the hour of Xu (7:45 PM), I was proofreading memorials in my study when my servant Li Zhong brought me tea."

"This morning, before the water clock had finished running out, Mr. Qian, the Vice Minister of Rites, was talking with me outside the Duanmen Gate and mentioned this matter as well."

As soon as the words "Lord Qian" were uttered, the jade tablet in Qian Qianyi's hand fell to the ground with a "clang," and his official hat tilted slightly as he bent down to pick it up.

"The matter that Shen Qing presented—"

Zhu Cilang tapped his fingertips on the table.

"I first heard these rumors in the study of the mansion last night, reported by the servant Li Zhong. It was around 7:45 PM. Is this detail accurate?"

"Correct!"

"Governor of the Northern Garrison, heed my command!"

Zhu Cilang swept his long sleeve across the jade paperweight on the desk.

"Take this imperial golden talisman to the Shen residence, wear a flying fish robe, carry an embroidered spring knife, and ride in an eight-bearer sedan chair to invite the servant Li Zhong to court."

"When asked by anyone along the way, just say that the Crown Prince's meals were prepared by the Imperial Kitchen!"

Shortly after, the sound of horses' hooves suddenly rose on the stone-paved road outside the Meridian Gate.

The garrison commanders filed out, their six fine steeds galloping swiftly along the palace road's blue bricks.

As the golden talisman in the hands of the imperial guards gleamed in the sunlight, the gatekeeper eunuch hurriedly pushed open the vermilion palace gate.

Six riders flashed through the air, and the signboard of a teahouse on the street suddenly flipped up, revealing the words "Honest and Fair to All" in ink on the back.

When the people saw the flying fish robe pass through the market, they all huddled against the walls to make way for him, and the old man selling steamed buns didn't even have time to pick up his overturned basket.

Inside the Wuying Hall, Shen Chenquan's court boots unconsciously ground against the bricks.

The sundial needle will touch the 2:45 AM mark on that day.

Suddenly, three sharp cracks of a whip rang out from outside the palace, and the booming voice of the halberd-wielding official pierced through the palace walls:

"The Crown Prince's entourage has arrived—Li Zhong of the Shen family has been summoned to an audience!"

Eight brocade-clad guards strode into the palace, and Li Zhong from the Shen family was brought to the court.

Zhu Cilang pressed Li Zhong for details about the origin of the "fake crown prince" rumor, instructing him to describe in detail who, when, and where he heard it.

After he finished answering, the authorities ordered that more people be summoned for questioning.

Next, the three departments and the Northern Garrison Command jointly laid out a tight net.

The twelve temple officials had already divided into four teams and sped out of the palace through the side gate, their horses' hooves pounding the puddles on Chengtianmen Street.

The Imperial Guards and their subordinates from the Court of Judicial Review, carrying official documents, went out to deliver messages, but encountered numerous obstacles—

As soon as the Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review knocked on the door of the Marquis of Xincheng, Zhao Zhilong, the gatekeeper whispered through the crack in the door:

"My master has a headache and can't stand people wearing the official robes of the censor."

The official in charge of the Ministry of Justice waited under the eaves of the Li residence for half an incense stick's time, only to see the steward come out carrying dregs of medicine:

"Your Honor, my husband has been suffering from diarrhea for three days and is truly unable to get out of bed."

The clues are tangled like a spider web.

The Imperial Guards pursued Zhao Zhilong to the South Market and, following the directions of his servants, found the vegetable vendor, Old Wu.

Old Wu, clutching an ounce of silver, swore an oath:

"Sir, you are wise to investigate! This old man has been running this stall for ten years, and I have never mentioned any prince!"

When the Northern Garrison Commander kicked open the painted boat on the Qinhuai River, the drunken Supervising Secretary of the Ministry of Rites grabbed a singing girl's sleeve and shouted:

"The Crown Prince? Isn't the Crown Prince listening to music here?"

Faced with numerous excuses and prevarications, the presiding judges had no choice but to investigate each household individually.

When the Ministry of Justice officials were turned away at the Hou Mansion's side gate for the seventh time, the Embroidered Uniform Guard suddenly discovered that all the testimonies pointed to the same place.

With more than 30 people involved confined to the Ministry of Personnel, dozens of loose threads were finally brought together.

Just as the evening drum was about to sound, the head of the Six Ministries presented a stack of files.

As the last rays of sunset washed over Fengtian Gate, the closing documents signed by the Nine Ministers had already identified the same person—

Zhao Fu, a servant in the household of Prince Fu, Zhu Yousong.

The method used by Zhu Cilang was actually quite simple:

Since the rumor started last night and has not spread widely this morning, we can find the instigator by tracing the source layer by layer.

Because the imperial court mobilized the power of the state, the suspect was quickly identified.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the servant Zhao Fu was brought to the imperial court.

When he knelt down tremblingly at the foot of the steps, Prince Fu, Zhu Yousong, turned deathly pale.

"How dare you, Zhao Fu!"

Huang Yunshi, the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, immediately questioned him sternly:

"I have been ordered by Your Majesty to thoroughly investigate the case of the prophecy. Your crimes of fabricating seditious rumors and disrupting the court are now clear."

"With the Crown Prince overseeing the state and the Nine Ministers present, why don't you truthfully confess who instigated this, and when and where you were secretly instructed to utter these rebellious words?"

Zhao Fu's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and cold sweat slid down his neck and down his collar.

He fiddled with the corner of his coarse cloth garment with his fingers, the tip of his left boot unconsciously grinding against the cracks in the palace bricks, his eyes darting around, occasionally glancing in the direction of Prince Fu.

At this moment, a commotion arose in the ranks of military officers, and Huang Degong stepped forward, his iron armor clanging loudly:

"Your Highness, this treacherous servant dares to falsely accuse the Crown Prince; how could such a lowly ant do such a thing?"

He looked coldly at Prince Fu, Zhu Yousong. Although he did not name him directly, the target of his gaze was self-evident.

"This humble general has shed blood on the battlefield for twenty years; such a frame-up is clearly a harbinger of treason."

"Heaven and Earth, ancestors above! How could such a rebellious and wicked servant have emerged from my household..."

Prince Fu, Zhu Yousong, knelt down with a thud.

"Your Highness, I beg you to immediately order the Embroidered Uniform Guard to search my residence. If there is even a single piece of paper or word related to this case, I request that your head be displayed at Chengtian Gate."

Under the glow of the glass lamp, beads of sweat dripped down his chin, soaking the front of his python robe.

"I admit it! This was my doing alone; it has nothing to do with anyone else!"

Zhao Fu suddenly stiffened his neck and looked up, the back of his head almost hitting the belt of the Imperial Guard behind him:

"Did this prince spring out of a rock? If you ask me, he's probably some fake phoenix who escaped from an opera troupe."

"presumptuous!"

Huang Yunshi glared at Zhao Fu and shouted sternly:

"According to the Great Ming Code, anyone who creates prophecies, apocryphal books, or seditious sayings, or spreads them to mislead the public, shall be beheaded!"

"You are now making baseless accusations, which is a crime punishable by three degrees."

When Zhao Fu was questioned, his gaze sometimes drifted to the ceiling of the palace, and sometimes stared at his own fingernails.

His initial statement claimed he overheard something at a gambling den, but he later changed it to say he was drunk and talking nonsense, ultimately failing to make sense of his story.

Interspersed among these were a few phrases that seemed inappropriate for a servant, as if they had been indoctrinated.

After examining thirty-seven testimonies in court, the three judicial officials concluded the case as a case of spreading seditious rumors.

The matter of Prince Fu's succession to the throne had been settled, but unexpectedly another crown prince emerged, which naturally aroused dissatisfaction among some people.

Was Zhao Fu's action driven by personal resentment or by orders?

Like a misty river, it's hard to distinguish between reality and illusion.

Huang Yunshi's face was ashen, and his voice, like that of an iron ruler, struck the dragon-carved pillar.

"Hand Zhao Fu over to the Dali Temple for detention and to be executed on a later date."

Before he could finish speaking, two Imperial Guards had already grabbed Zhao Fu's arms.

As he was dragged to the palace gate, the prisoner suddenly raised his head and roared with his neck stiffened:

"I'm just a worthless old man, what harm is there in admitting to the crime of spreading these 'heretical rumors'?"

"A beheading leaves only a small scar! We haven't seen the smoke rising from the Xiaoling Mausoleum! We haven't seen the golden edicts from the Imperial Clan Court! Which of the Six Ministries in Nanjing ever stamped their seals?"

The maniacal laughter made the roof of the palace tremble slightly.

"You think you can sit on the dragon throne just by talking? I'll die with my eyes wide open in disbelief!"

Amidst the roars, Shi Kefa, the Minister of War, looked down at the jade buckle, while Gao Hongtu, the Minister of Revenue, intently examined the jade plaque.

Minister of Rites Ma Shiying looked up at the dome, where all the high-ranking officials of the court had become clay and wooden sculptures, letting the lingering sound echo between the dragon pillars.