I play the role of Jiajing in Zongwu: What crime have I committed?

It is usually written in parallel prose, using red ink on green paper, requiring neat form and ornate writing.

But why did the emperor suddenly become so fond of Qingci (a type of Buddhist prayer offering)?

Just as everyone was filled with doubt and uncertainty, Zhu Houcong's voice rang out again.

"Recently, I have repeatedly dreamt of celestial encounters. In my dreams, a golden-armored deity tells me that I am the reincarnation of the Supreme Great Luo Heavenly Immortal, the Purple Extreme Holy Wisdom Illuminating Spirit, the Primordial Proof, the Jade Void General Master of the Five Thunders, the Mysterious Capital Realm Longevity Emperor."

"This is the will of Heaven, therefore I must offer a petition to Heaven."

Chapter 24 Xie Yu, you deserve to die!

Zhu Houcong sat high on the dragon throne, taking in the expressions of all the officials below the steps.

Those who can stand in this Hanyuan Hall are all exceptionally intelligent individuals; how could they not understand that composing the Qingci (a type of memorial to the emperor) is an act of getting close to the emperor?

Now that His Majesty the Emperor favors the practice of Qingci (a form of Buddhist ritual), isn't this the very opportunity that those skilled in scheming have been dreaming of?

Several officials already showed signs of joy.

They were all carefully selected from the annual scientific expeditions, and their greatest skill lay in their elegant and parallel prose.

Of course, many ministers dismissed this idea.

Looking at the myriad lives of people below the steps, Zhu Houcong couldn't help but sigh, "These Qingci (a type of prayer tablet) are truly wonderful things."

The Jiajing Emperor was a man of great talent.

Historically, Emperor Jiajing (Zhu Houcong) used the Qingci (a type of official document) as an important means of selecting officials, making it a tool for testing their loyalty and ability.

It allowed them to bypass the traditional imperial examination system and cultivate loyalists who were attached to the imperial power.

The Jiajing Emperor transformed the green rattan paper into a dog leash to restrain his officials.

Writing eulogies had to cater to his religious preferences, and was essentially a declaration of absolute obedience to imperial power.

Now Zhu Houcong naturally wants to follow suit.

In this vast Hanyuan Hall, the floor is paved with gold bricks and jade pillars reach for the sky.

There has never been a shortage of honest officials, nor a shortage of corrupt officials.

What's truly rare are those intellectuals who are willing to openly and honestly act like dogs.

Zhu Houcong's gaze swept over the heads bowed below the steps, a cold smile playing on his lips.

Scholars have integrity!

If one has integrity, why plunge headlong into the quagmire of officialdom and smear oneself with filth?

Thus, these sanctimonious intellectuals devised a set of high-sounding arguments.

He constantly talks about "speaking out for the people."

In his memorials, he quoted extensively from classical texts to discuss "the people as the foundation of the state," and in court assemblies, he passionately recounted "the hardships of the people."

But he could turn around and, without changing his expression, use a red pen stained with human blood to write a memorial praising "love for the people as one's own children."

He trampled on the corpses of the common people and spoke of "benevolent governance and virtuous rule" in the imperial court.

Even Lou Zhijing, the Minister of Revenue, played so hard that he killed several children in the Orchid Garden.

After the son of He Jingzhong, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel, committed murder, Prince Yu also said that if it were just a few ordinary people, killing them would be fine.

These hypocrites, once they plunged into the quagmire of officialdom, all learned to smear their memorials and manipulate their accounts.

Their specialty is portraying embezzlement as "unavoidable."

They glorify factional strife as "selecting worthy men for the country."

What Zhu Houcong needs to do is tear off their fig leaf and break their backbone.

Let them know that being a loyal dog of the royal family is better than being an untamable stray dog ​​that wants both power and fame.

The selection of these "green poems" (a type of imperial edict) is based on those who are adept at understanding the emperor's intentions and flattering him.

It will also become a tool for his personal dictatorship.

"My esteemed ministers,"

Zhu Houcong suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery.

"I know you are all highly learned and eloquent. Regarding this matter of writing petitions, who among you is willing to share my burden?"

The hall fell silent instantly.

The officials looked at each other in bewilderment; some stared down at the tips of their boots, while others pretended to adjust their official tablets.

Those civil officials who usually quoted classical texts in their memorials were now all like saw-out gourds.

A few people, however, had a look of eagerness in their eyes, wanting to curry favor, but were too proud to step forward.

Zhu Houcong sneered, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a knife.

"What? Weren't you all so eager to write 'Your subject risks his life to offer this advice' in your memorials?"

He paused deliberately, then continued, "Or perhaps... you all feel that writing petitions for me is an insult to the integrity of you scholars?"

Upon hearing this, the officials hurriedly replied, "Your Majesty, we dare not."

Zhu Houcong snorted coldly and began calling out names.

"Lou Qing."

"Your subject is present."

Lou Zhijing stepped forward again, his wide crimson official robe sweeping across the gold bricks.

"I remember you were a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination) in the 29th year of the Xingtai era, right?"

"The Three Strategies of Heaven and Man that we wrote back then were praised by the late emperor."

"Your Majesty's memory is absolutely correct."

"Um,"

Zhu Houcong nodded, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest of the dragon throne.

"How about you write one for me?"

"I would gladly die ten thousand deaths."

Lou Zhijing's voice showed no hesitation whatsoever.

"Okay, okay."

Zhu Houcong nodded in satisfaction, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes.

Your loyalty and dedication to the country have not been in vain, even though I still thought of saving your life.

Then, his gaze turned to the ranks of military officers.

"Marquis Ningguo, why don't you write one too?"

Xie Yu's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

He stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said, "Your Majesty, I am good at wielding swords and staffs, but I am truly inadequate when it comes to writing 'qingci' (a type of Buddhist prayer).

"Your Majesty, I humbly request that your ministers, renowned for their literary talent, take up the pen."

After hearing Xie Yu's excuses, Zhu Houcong remained calm on the surface, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

He slowly stroked the dragon head carvings on the armrest of the dragon throne, his heart churning with rage.

Xie Yu, you deserve to die!

I originally intended to give you a chance to live, but you bastard, you dare to disobey my orders.

When you framed the Chiyan Army back then, how skillfully you fabricated charges and forged evidence!

Why didn't you think about saving face back then?

Now they're putting on an act of being refined and loyal to the emperor.

You can do whatever you want when you're in the sea, but now that you're on land, you're starting to act all innocent, huh?

What a despicable person.

If Mei Changsu doesn't kill you, I'll kill you too.

At this moment, the hall was so quiet that one could hear the sound of incense ash falling from the bronze crane incense burner.

All the officials held their breath and watched as Zhu Houcong slowly raised his eyes, his face as calm as still water.

"That's a shame. You can join the ranks now!"

"Yes!" Xie Yu slowly retreated into the column.

Zhu Houcong's cold gaze swept over the entire court of officials, a sneer already forming in his mind.

I'm too lazy to call out names.

Since you all consider yourselves superior, then don't blame me for being ruthless.

Once Mei Changsu has thoroughly purged all of you hypocritical scoundrels, I will then select new officials from among those willing to write memorials to fill the vacancies.

"My esteemed ministers,"

Zhu Houcong slowly stood up.

"Those who are willing to write eulogies for me, please send them to the Hall of Mental Cultivation in two days. I want to review them personally."

After saying that, he left on his own.

"Court adjourned!"

The court session ended with Yan Song's shrill voice.

As the morning light grew stronger, officials emerged from Hanyuan Hall in twos and threes.

Beneath the vermilion palace walls, courtiers in scarlet robes and jade belts appeared to be chatting idly, but in reality, each harbored their own thoughts.

Many people believe that there is no need to take this matter too seriously, after all, it is just a minor quirk that Emperor Liang developed occasionally, and it may disappear in a few days.

Many of them have their own ulterior motives.

If you cater to the emperor's tastes, and perhaps you can use the paper for writing imperial edicts to pave a path to success, wouldn't that be a huge windfall?

"What do you think of this matter of Qingci?" Prince Yu, Xiao Jinghuan, asked.

Qi Min, the Minister of Justice standing beside him, said calmly, "His Majesty has not practiced Taoism for decades. I suspect this poem is merely a passing fancy of His Majesty's; there's no need to take it too seriously."

Prince Yu nodded. These civil officials didn't care, but as a prince, he naturally couldn't ignore it.

A short while later, the steward of Prince Yu's mansion headed straight for the bookstore in the south of the city, where it was said that the manuscripts of the great Qingci poets of the previous dynasty were kept.

Meanwhile, the Chief Secretary of the Eastern Palace had already rushed off towards the Wenyuan Pavilion. When he returned, his arms were bulging with several volumes of the Daoist Canon.

Chapter 25 Conferring upon you the title of Grand Secretary of the White-Haired Pavilion

At 3:45 AM the next day, Zhaoren Palace was still a place of enchanting beauty.

The ambergris in the gilded beast-head incense burner had burned out, leaving only a few wisps of smoke swirling around the bright yellow curtains.

Zhu Houcong rested his left arm on Yue Shi's cascading black hair, while his right arm was wrapped around Consort Hui's snow-white, lotus-like arm.

The three slept with their necks intertwined.

"His Majesty!"

Suddenly, Yan Song's deliberately lowered voice came from outside the hall.

"I have already retrieved the petition submitted by Minister Lou."

A hand with distinct knuckles emerged from under the brocade quilt and haphazardly tore open half of the curtain.

"You finished writing it so quickly?"

Zhu Houcong squinted his sleepy eyes and slapped Huifei's round buttocks with a crisp sound.

"Help me change my clothes."