Chapter 125: Divine Doctor Zhang’s ‘donation’ Therapy!
The shadow of Old Zhu raising his butcher knife loomed over every noble and high official in the Great Ming, but the morning in Yingtian Prefecture was bathed in sunlight.
It was as if Zhang Biao, deep in the Imperial Prison, was entirely unaffected.
He finished his last bite of braised beef, took a contented sip of small wine, and then let loose with a wildly off-key improvised song:
“Ate pig’s head meat~ Ate braised beef~ Drank a little wine~ The Emperor himself~ Can’t compare to me~ Hiccup~~!”
The song, horribly out of tune and punctuated by hiccups, sounded particularly jarring and obnoxious in that grim place.
“Boss!”
From the shadows, a younger Imperial Guard’s forehead veins bulged with anger, his hand gripping his Xiuchun Saber hilt, his teeth grinding. “I… I can’t take it anymore! This scoundrel is too arrogant!”
Another, more seasoned guard, with a dark expression, whispered, “Boss! I really want to kill this scoundrel! Sew his damn mouth shut!”
Jiang Huan, leading the surveillance from the shadows, had a face as dark as water and eyes as cold as ice. He rebuked in a low voice:
“All of you, shut up! Watch the show! Anyone else making noise gets one hundred military cudgels when we get back!”
The Imperial Guards immediately fell silent, but their gazes towards Zhang Biao’s prison cell still seemed to spew fire.
Jiang Huan’s gaze swept past Zhu Gao Sui, who was pretending to patrol not far away, but was in fact eavesdropping with pricked ears.
The Third Prince from the Prince Yan’s Mansion tried to maintain a stern face, looking up at the dark ceiling of the Imperial Prison, silently humming the tune Zhang Biao had just sung. His toes even tapped slightly, projecting an image of “I know nothing, I’m just a soulless takeout delivery guy,” but his slightly shaking shoulders revealed he was struggling hard to hold back laughter.
Jiang Huan’s eyelid twitched almost imperceptibly, and he silently turned his gaze back to Zhang Biao.
At this moment, Zhang Biao’s ‘talent show’ had concluded.
He let out a loud belch and his gaze once again locked onto Guo Ying in the adjacent cell, who was still desperately maintaining his martial bearing but looked darker than the bottom of a pot.
“Tsk tsk…”
Zhang Biao smacked his lips, patted the prison bars with his greasy hand, making a ‘clang clang’ sound:
“Old Marquis, you, holding yourself as stiff as a stone, aren’t you tired?”
“This is called muscle rigidity, blocked meridians, deficiency of qi and blood, and a dark complexion on your forehead. It’s a classic late-stage symptom of the VIP syndrome of the Imperial Prison!”
“Insolent child!”
Guo Ying’s eyes snapped open in anger, furious. “Stop cursing me! What storms haven’t I seen?!”
“Oh my! Stubborn, are we?”
Zhang Biao slapped his thigh, as if suddenly enthused. “Patients are all like this! They refuse to acknowledge their illness! It seems you won’t shed tears until you see the coffin!”
With that, he suddenly stood up and, addressing Zhu Gao Sui, shouted in an extremely exaggerated tone: “Third Brother! Quickly bring out my ‘Hua Tuo Reborn, Ghost-Astonishing, Divine-Smashing, Invincible Super Therapy’ Supreme Set!”
“Huh?” Zhu Gao Sui, who was secretly practicing humming, was suddenly called out and almost jumped up, looking bewildered. “What set?”
He genuinely didn’t understand.
“That thing! The long one! Made of iron! That can be heated red! The ‘Meridian-Soothing, Thunderbolt Fire Massage Stick’! And that box of ‘Soul-Calming, Gigantic-De-Stress Health Needles’!”
Zhang Biao gestured with his hands, lowering his voice, but ensuring Guo Ying could hear. “Hurry! Old Marquis’s illness can’t be delayed!”
“Meridian-Soothing… Thunderbolt Fire Massage Stick?”
Zhu Gao Sui pondered, then a spark of realization lit up his eyes, widening them. He stuttered, confirming:
“You mean… that axe for chopping firewood… and that iron… iron rod?!”
“That’s right! Those are them!”
Zhang Biao looked at him with approval, as if he was a smart kid. “And the small stove! Heat it up well! We’ll give Old Marquis a full course of heat therapy, cupping, and acupuncture!”
“Whoa—!”
Not only Zhu Gao Sui, but even the Imperial Guards hidden in the shadows let out a low murmur of astonishment.
Cupping with a red-hot axe? Acupuncture with an iron rod?
Was this healing or corpse preparation?!
“Boss…”
An Imperial Guard Battalion Commander couldn’t help but look at Jiang Huan.
Although Old Zhu had already decreed that Guo Ying could be “tightened up,” he hadn’t said to torment him to death!
“Silence!”
Jiang Huan, as always, cut off the Battalion Commander without question.
Guo Ying’s face, however, instantly shifted from dark to green, then from green to white. He pointed at Zhang Biao, his finger trembling violently. “You… you dare treat me like this?! I am the Marquis of Wuding, officially appointed by the court! You…”
“Marquis, please calm your anger!”
Zhang Biao’s expression suddenly turned extremely serious and earnest. “As the saying goes, a doctor is like a parent! In the face of illness, there are no kings, marquises, or generals, only patients!”
“Your illness has evil cold entering the bones; only fierce fire and potent needles can expel it! Although the process is a bit stimulating, the results are guaranteed to be top-notch!”
“After one course of treatment, your waist and legs won’t ache anymore, you’ll have energy to go upstairs, and you’ll be able to curse ten censors without breaking a sweat…”
As he spoke, he began gesturing with his hands again, as if possessed by a divine physician.
“First, we’ll use the back of that red-hot axe, ‘smack’! Press it onto your back. This is called Fierce Fire Cupping, specifically to expel deep cold!”
“Then, we’ll use that Gigantic Health Needle, ‘dong dong dong’! Tap on your major acupoints all over. This is called Thunderclap Massage, to unblock the meridians!”
“If that still doesn’t work, we have a final trick: a bloodletting therapy using poison to combat poison! Of course, the amount we let out will depend on the efficacy…”
“…”
Guo Ying listened to this outrageously absurd ‘treatment,’ imagining the scene of a red-hot piece of iron branding his back and a thick iron rod pounding his acupoints. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead, and his stomach churned violently.
He had been brave his entire life, but this unheard-of ‘torturous therapy’ challenged the limits of his understanding.
“Witchcraft! This is witchcraft!”
Guo Ying’s voice trembled as he tried to mask his fear with anger.
“How is this witchcraft? This is science!”
“Bullshit science! You have no right to torture me!”
“Ha! It seems the old Marquis has an old body but a young heart! Quite sharp!”
“Hmph! Stop trying to trick me…”
“However!”
Zhang Biao interrupted Guo Ying again, smiling sweetly. “Considering you’re old, Marquis, and your tolerance might be limited, I have a gentler, painless, and even somewhat pleasant ‘Memory Therapy’ here.”
“Wh-what memory therapy?”
The words were out of his mouth before Guo Ying regretted them.
But Zhang Biao smiled like a fox that had stolen a chicken. “For example, let me help you recall: in the 18th year of Hongwu, you were in charge of supervising the auxiliary engineering for a section of the Imperial Mausoleum in Fengyang. The budgeted amount was thirty thousand taels of silver, but the final report came in at forty-eight thousand taels…”
“That extra eighteen thousand taels, was it for burning paper money for the Earth God?”
“You!”
Guo Ying’s pupils contracted sharply, his face slightly changed, but he still forced himself: “It was just an increase in material prices and wages for artisans, what’s strange about that?!”
“Oh~ Material prices increased?”
Zhang Biao stretched out his words as if a sudden realization had dawned, then picked up a chopstick and drew on the ground.
“I remember checking the market prices for wood and stone in Nanjing at the time, and I even asked a few old artisans…”
“According to the calculations, it would have cost at most twenty-nine thousand taels. This extra nineteen thousand taels, was it an offering to King Yama, begging him to ensure the project wouldn’t collapse?”
“You… you’re slandering me!”
Guo Ying, furious, stood up abruptly, his fingers trembling as he pointed at Zhang Biao.
“Don’t rush, don’t rush, the treatment has just begun.”
Zhang Biao waved his hand with a smile, as if pacifying a patient. “Let’s recall some more…”
“Your third son, Guo Yong, two years ago in your hometown of Fengyang, did he ‘buy’ one hundred and twenty mu of prime irrigated land from Wang Lao Wu’s family for sixty taels of silver? Wang Lao Wu refused to sell, and the next day he ‘accidentally’ fell into the river and drowned?”
“Do you know about this, Old Marquis? The Prefect of Fengyang is your former subordinate…”
“That rebellious son…”
Guo Ying’s face instantly turned from black to white, his breathing growing rapid. “What does that rebellious son’s actions have to do with me?!”
“Is that so?”
Zhang Biao feigned surprise. “But I heard that the land deed for those one hundred and twenty mu of land eventually ended up under the name of the brother of your most favored seventh concubine?”
“These twists and turns, truly keeping the wealth within the family!”
“Pfft—!”
Guo Ying’s anger surged, and he almost spat out a mouthful of blood, staggering to lean against the wall.
Zhang Biao, however, seemed to have opened a floodgate and couldn’t stop, his speaking speed increasing, like reciting a menu:
“And your precious grandson, Guo Xuan, studying at the Imperial Academy. His learning didn’t improve, but he learned to frequent pleasure boats, spending three hundred taels in one night! Where did the money come from?”
“Your five-courtyard mansion back home, isn’t it exceeding the regulations? Those stone lions at the entrance, are they half a foot taller than a Prince’s standards?”
“There’s a Battalion Commander under your command named Zhao Desheng who died mysteriously last year. How did his exquisite young concubine end up as the head of the sewing room in your mansion overnight?”
“You…”
“Stop talking! Stop talking! Shut up for me—!!”
Guo Ying finally completely broke down.
These secrets and family scandals, which he thought he had hidden so well, were being spilled out one by one, publicly, by Zhang Biao like pouring beans from a bamboo tube.
Each one was like a knife, piercing his old face, stripping away his meager dignity to the last shred.
He trembled violently, pointing at Zhang Biao, his eyes wide with rage, yet unable to retort, because almost everything Zhang Biao said was true.
The shame and fear of being completely seen through and exposed in public overwhelmed him.
The Imperial Guards hidden in the shadows were dumbfounded. Although they also investigated cases, they had never encountered someone who recited others’ private scandals so publicly.
Jiang Huan’s brow furrowed even tighter.
This lunatic… where did his intelligence come from? It was too bizarre!
Zhu Gao Sui’s eyes sparkled, his admiration for Zhang Biao reaching its peak.
Brother Biao even knew about the concubine’s affairs! Amazing!
Zhang Biao looked at Guo Ying, who was on the verge of collapse, and finally stopped his ‘menu recitation.’ He sighed, his tone suddenly becoming sincere:
“Old Marquis, look, these bad debts and messy affairs are like poisoned sores and boils within you. Holding them in will only make them fester deeper. Speaking them out, donating them, will make you better!”
He once again brought out his ‘donation therapy’ argument:
“You donate one treasure to me, and I’ll help you resolve one heart ailment. How about it? Isn’t it a good deal? After all, treasures are inanimate, but people are alive!”
Guo Ying collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down his face, his psychological defenses completely shattered.
As if his backbone had been removed, he lay on the cold ground, weeping and weakly moaning:
“Take it… take it all… I have a bronze sword and the Seven Star Gemstone Knife…”
“Hey! That’s more like it!”
Zhang Biao clapped his hands, his face breaking into a wide smile.
Everyone was stunned by Zhang Biao’s series of maneuvers, their minds buzzing.
This actually worked?!
Li Jinglong let out a long sigh, immensely grateful for his wise decision, and even felt a bit of sympathy for Guo Ying.
He had secretly decided that if he could get out, he would proactively ‘donate’ his family’s best treasures to Zhang Biao.
Even if it meant being buried with them, he wanted Zhang Biao to depart ‘magnificently,’ otherwise, he would be woken up by Zhang Biao’s astonishing therapy in his dreams.
It was at this moment that Jiang Huan knew it was his turn to appear.
So, without a word, he led his men out of the shadows, his voice calm but carrying an unquestionable authority:
“Marquis of Wuding, the Emperor has decreed that there are some old accounts concerning the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue that require your careful recollection and explanation. Please come.”
Upon hearing this, Guo Ying’s body stiffened abruptly.
What was coming, had ultimately come.
And it came after being ‘forced to donate’ by that scoundrel Zhang Biao.
He realized Jiang Huan and his men had been watching from the shadows, waiting for Zhang Biao to break him down before making their move.
Thinking of this, Guo Ying couldn’t help but look at Zhang Biao in the opposite cell, then at the terrified Li Jinglong, and finally at Jiang Huan’s cold face.
A wave of sorrow and determination washed over him.
He knew that this departure would likely be fraught with danger.
How many of the real secrets could he keep? He didn’t know, but at least the things he had ‘donated’ shouldn’t benefit the Imperial Guards.
Just as two Imperial Guards stepped forward to open the cell door, Guo Ying suddenly raised his head. His gaze did not fall on Jiang Huan, but once again on Zhang Biao, his voice dry but exceptionally clear, even carrying a strange calmness:
“Censor Zhang!”
Everyone froze, including Jiang Huan, and instinctively looked towards Zhang Biao.
Zhang Biao raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“What I donate, if I give it to you, it is yours!”
“Heh!”
Zhang Biao smiled, his eyes narrowing.
“What?”
Guo Ying stared intently at Zhang Biao, speaking word by word. “You won’t even be able to protect your own things, will you…”
This statement, in fact, had two layers of meaning.
One was: we cooperated with you, we gave you things, and it was useless. You’re just a liar.
The other was a reminder to Li Jinglong: don’t get your hopes up. Zhang Biao is nothing. Don’t say what you shouldn’t say, or you’ll die even faster.
Zhang Biao and Jiang Huan, naturally, understood both meanings and exchanged glances.
Then, Zhang Biao spoke first. “Commander Jiang, did you hear that? What is given to me, is mine!”
“Hmph! The Emperor has decreed that all their possessions shall be confiscated into the Imperial Treasury!” Jiang Huan snorted coldly.
“Is that so?”
Zhang Biao’s lips curved upwards, then he fixed his gaze intently on Jiang Huan. “Then tell the Emperor that if he dares to take my things, I will audit his Imperial Treasury!”
“Remember! This is not a threat, it’s a notification!”
“Presumptuous—!”
Jiang Huan drew his saber abruptly.
Zhang Biao, however, cast a disdainful glance at him and threw his head back, laughing heartily.
“Hahaha!”
