Chapter 179: Old Zhu: I’m Tired, Let’s Destroy It All, Quickly! 【monthly Ticket Bonus Update 14】
On the execution ground, a brief, eerie silence fell.
Fang Xiaoru’s face was ashen, his lips trembling.
He pointed at Zhang Biao, a guttural sound coming from his throat, like a fish out of water.
Clearly, Zhang Biao’s heretical “Analects interpretation” had sent his worldview into unprecedented shock.
The “teachings of the sages” he had studied his entire life now seemed so pale and powerless.
The civil and military officials around had even more colorful expressions.
Some were dumbfounded, others stifled laughter.
Some frowned in deep thought, while others glared at Zhang Biao but didn’t know how to refute this pure nonsense.
【 This madman, before his death, used this method to turn the solemn execution ground into an absurd stage? 】
【 This is simply unheard of… 】
Zhu Gao Sui, watching from the viewing platform, had collapsed with laughter.
Zhu Gao Chi’s face was also flushed red, his shoulders heaving, unsure whether he was crying or laughing.
Although Zhu Gao Chi remained composed, his plump body still trembled slightly.
Zhu Yunteng and his siblings were filled with bewilderment and shock.
Zhang Biao’s actions were completely beyond their comprehension.
As for the dukes and marquises observing the execution, they too felt extremely complex emotions surging within them.
Anger, absurdity, a hint of imperceptible admiration, and… a deeper apprehension.
Zhang Biao’s actions, seemingly mad and chaotic, were in fact another violent impact on the existing order and the foundations of thought.
It was more thought-provoking than him shouting “Dismissal of Confucianism.”
Because “Dismissal of Confucianism” was merely a conceptual opposition, even a bold probe.
But the “new interpretation” of the Analects was a fierce, real-life “war.”
Yes, from this moment on, people would start to think, to question, whether the Confucianism they learned was truly the original intention of Confucius.
Don’t underestimate this sliver of doubt.
You might bring up Gongyang Confucianism, but bringing Gongyang Confucianism to the table involved too much time and cost.
It only became the mainstream of Confucianism during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han.
However, as time went by, Gongyang Confucianism eventually became the current pedantic Confucian scholar. Among this, there were definitely “people with ulterior motives” who deliberately guided it.
And Zhang Biao bringing back the thoughts of Gongyang Confucianism was undoubtedly throwing a stone into still waters.
It wasn’t that people of this era didn’t know Gongyang Confucianism, but rather that those who knew didn’t have the influence to change things.
After all, the current orthodoxy was pedantic Confucianism.
But Zhang Biao took advantage of this, and on the day everyone expected him to die, he officially declared war on pedantic Confucianism.
His influence was greater than anyone, any organization.
【 Ah, this kid, restless even in death! 】
Chang Sheng couldn’t help but sigh in his heart.
He now finally understood why Zhu Yunteng could be changed by Zhang Biao.
This fellow had an indescribable “magic.”
It was as if anyone who got involved with him would be “bewitched” by him.
Zhang Biao, however, felt he had merely done a trivial, insignificant deed.
He nonchalantly clapped his hands, dusted off nonexistent dust, and turned his gaze back to Jiang Huan and Liu Sanwu, whose faces were ashen. He wore that infuriatingly lazy smile again:
“Commander Jiang, Grand Scholar Liu, since the Emperor has already issued an edict, you don’t want to disobey, do you?”
Jiang Huan: “…”
Liu Sanwu: “…”
The two looked at each other and remained silent.
Then Zhang Biao continued on his own:
“First, you must bring me that set of seven-colored glazed wine sets. Old Zhu rewarded them to me, so they shouldn’t be wasted. I can have a couple of drinks on the road to the underworld.”
“And a few jars of good wine, make it strong! Shao Daozi liquor would be best, it’s potent!”
“Pig’s head meat! It must be there! With plenty of minced garlic! This is my favorite. I didn’t get to eat my last meal, so I have to make up for it with burial goods!”
“And, Commander Jiang…”
He suddenly called out, his gaze playfully sweeping over Jiang Huan, whose face had turned dark:
“That Flying Fish Robe of yours is nice, can I borrow it? Let me look imposing below too? I’ll return it to you when you come down…”
“Pfft—!”
This time, even some of the stern-faced generals couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
This scoundrel dared to tease the Imperial Guard Commander!
Jiang Huan’s face instantly turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, the hand gripping the hilt of his dagger bulging with veins. He wished he could rush forward and sew up the bastard’s mouth.
Zhang Biao ignored Jiang Huan’s murderous gaze and continued his “deathbed shopping list”:
“I also need a set of writing brush, ink, paper, inkstone. In case there are corrupt officials below, I can continue to write memorials and conduct audits!”
“Oh, right, the most important thing!”
He slapped his forehead as if he had just remembered:
“You must burn a few paper figures for me, make them look like those old guys Fu Youwen and Ru Chang!”
“When I get down there, I’ll continue to torment them! Let them know that offending Censor Zhang means you’ll never have a good outcome, whether in heaven or on earth!”
With each item he mentioned, the commotion in the crowd grew by a degree, a mix of exasperation and amusement spreading.
This was hardly going to meet death.
This was clearly preparing to continue being a “mad censor” in the underworld and keep stirring up trouble!
Liu Sanwu listened to Zhang Biao’s increasingly outrageous “deathbed shopping list,” and saw his demeanor of treating death as a grand farce. The anger in his chest intertwined with an inexpressible sense of absurdity.
He slammed the table with a loud bang, finally unable to hold back, and roared:
“Enough, Zhang Biao! Do you truly want to enrage the Emperor and be executed by lingchi?!”
This roar, like a clap of thunder, temporarily suppressed the clamor on the execution ground.
Zhang Biao seemed genuinely startled and flinched, but then pouted and muttered softly:
“What’s the hurry… It’s not time yet, is it?”
After saying that, he glanced again at the civil and military officials and nobles with their varied expressions, wearing that “kind” smile that Jiang Huan was all too familiar with, like a fox spotting a plump hen.
“Since Grand Scholar Liu doesn’t want me to list ‘burial goods,’ let’s make donations now!”
Donations now?
What did that mean?!
Everyone’s expression froze.
Only Jiang Huan’s eyelids twitched, a vague sense of foreboding washing over him.
“Esteemed Sirs! Dukes! Marquises!”
Zhang Biao’s voice was full of enthusiasm, as if hosting a charity gala:
“You see, it’s not fitting for me to go down there naked. Why don’t… everyone chip in? Give me some burial money?”
“It’ll also be considered forming a good affinity, so that when I’m idle down there and chatting with King Yama, I don’t accidentally tell stories about some esteemed sir’s ‘glorious achievements’…”
Boom!
As soon as he said this, the entire crowd erupted!
They finally understood what “donations now” meant!
This madman was more heinous than the most vicious bandit!
He was robbing them even as he was about to die!
The faces of many officials instantly changed!
“You… You are insolent!”
An old Vice Minister with white hair and beard trembled with anger.
“Insolent?”
Zhang Biao blinked, feigning innocence:
“Vice Minister Liu, don’t be in such a hurry! I recall… in the 18th year of Hongwu, when the river embankment was repaired in your hometown, you might have overreported by three thousand taels of silver?”
“Is this matter recorded correctly in the old archives of the Ministry of Works? Shall I go down and help you ask the old clerk from the Ministry of Works who handled it at the time? He only passed away last year…”
“You… You’re spouting nonsense!”
Vice Minister Liu turned ashen, almost choking on his breath.
“And Commander Li!”
Zhang Biao’s gaze turned to a noble:
“Your third son threw a fortune away at the Qinhuai River pleasure boat the year before last, it seems to have come from the provisions and pay of your subordinate garrisons, right? Tsk tsk, what was that girl’s name… Little Hongyu? Little Cuihua?”
That Commander Li’s face instantly changed from red to green, then to white. Cold sweat poured down his face, and he instinctively took half a step back.
“I’ll donate! I’ll donate!”
A timid civil official cried out almost hysterically, fumbling in his robes and throwing a jade pendant forward:
“Master Zhang! May you go well! This… this is a family heirloom!”
With a leader, those officials and nobles whose past was not clean and who were afraid of Zhang Biao revealing anything before his death, immediately panicked.
“I have a fine Duan inkstone here!”
“I have a string of pearls from the East Sea here!”
“I have a dagger inlaid with gemstones here!”
In an instant, all sorts of jade pendants, thumb rings, fan pendants, small gold ingots, and even portable decorative items rained down from the viewing platform into the center of the execution ground, landing at Zhang Biao’s feet.
The scene became as chaotic as a disaster relief charity sale.
Among them, the most attention-grabbing were Duke Cao, Li Jinglong, and Marquis of Wuding, Guo Ying.
These two had been “audited” by Zhang Biao in the Imperial Prison and developed psychological scars.
Li Jinglong’s face was pale as he frantically untied his jade belt and sachet, even trying to remove his gold-inlaid belt buckle, muttering:
“Brother Biao! Brother Biao, go well! Please accept this token of my regard! Have drinks when you want them, listen to music when you want it!”
Seeing him, the nobles next to him covered their faces.
Guo Ying was even more practical.
He probably felt that ordinary items were not weighty enough, and actually tore off the fierce tiger rank insignia representing his meritorious service, personally bestowed by the Emperor, from his battle robe. With trembling hands, he was about to offer it:
“Censor Zhang! This… this is imposing enough!”
“Take it with you, no one will dare bully you down there!”
If not for the people beside him holding him back, he might have taken off his armor.
Zhang Biao looked at the “burial goods” rapidly accumulating at his feet, grinning from ear to ear, and occasionally picked one up to comment:
“Oh, Lord Shangshu Liu’s jade pendant has good luster, but the carving is a bit lacking. Early Hongwu craftsmanship, perhaps? Not as good as the Imperial Workshop’s.”
“Tsk tsk, Vice Minister Wang’s gold ingot… The stamp underneath looks like it was privately cast. You can’t take this down, King Yama doesn’t accept dirty money.”
“Brother Li’s jade belt… Hmm, it’s alright, just a bit deformed from you wearing it.”
The officials Zhang Biao commented on all turned red-faced, wishing they could find a hole to crawl into.
Liu Sanwu’s beard bristled even higher with anger.
Jiang Huan’s hand gripping his dagger had bulging veins, his eyes constantly darting to the sundial, waiting for the appointed time to chop up this infuriating bastard.
But unfortunately, the time for execution had not yet arrived.
They also could not disobey Old Zhu’s decree.
Therefore, the scene became agonizing.
…
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Inside the Huagai Hall, it was even quieter than usual.
It was even terrifyingly quiet.
Zhu Yuanzhang sat behind the enormous imperial desk, the mountains of memorials piled before him seemingly no different from usual.
He held a vermilion brush, writing stroke by stroke, his posture steady, as if the roaring clamor outside had nothing to do with him.
However, if one looked closely, they would notice that the tip of the vermilion brush trembled minutely, uncontrollably, as it touched the paper.
His writing speed was also much slower than usual, and his gaze occasionally drifted to the sky outside the hall, divided by the palace walls.
“Yun Ming.”
Old Zhu’s voice suddenly broke the deathly silence in the hall, so calm it carried no ripple.
“Your servant is here.”
Yun Ming, who had been standing by like a shadow, immediately bowed.
“What… what time is it now?”
Old Zhu didn’t look up, his gaze still on the memorials, as if asking casually.
Yun Ming’s heart tightened, and he replied cautiously:
“Your Majesty, it has just… just passed the first quarter of noon.”
“Mm.”
Old Zhu responded and said no more, continuing to be “focused” on the memorials in his hands.
The hall returned to a deathly silence.
Only the rustling of the vermilion brush against paper, and Old Zhu’s breathing, slightly heavier than usual.
Time, in the suffocating silence, passed second by second.
After an unknown period, perhaps only a quarter of an hour, perhaps a long hour.
Old Zhu stopped his brush again.
This time, he did not look at the memorials, but raised his head, his gaze blankly fixed on the intricate carvings on the hall ceiling. His fingers unconsciously and very forcefully twisted the corner of a memorial, fraying the fine Xuan paper.
“Yun Ming.”
He called out again, his voice carrying a trace of dryness that was difficult to detect.
“Your servant is here.”
Yun Ming’s heart leaped to his throat.
“What… what time is it now?”
The same question, but the tone seemed heavier.
Yun Ming felt his back drenched in cold sweat, he could almost hear his heart pounding wildly, and he replied with a trembling voice:
“Your Majesty… it’s almost… almost the second quarter of noon…”
It was almost the second quarter of noon!
The third quarter of noon was the time he had personally set for executing Zhang Biao!
Yun Ming looked at Old Zhu’s forced composure, unable to hide his anxiety. He recalled Zhang Biao’s seemingly mad but incisive remarks, and Old Zhu’s love-hate attitude towards Zhang Biao. A mysterious courage surged into his heart.
With a “plop,” he knelt on the ground, his head touching the floor, his voice choked with tears and a desperate resolve:
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Your servant… your servant deserves death a thousand times! I beg for your mercy!”
“That Zhang Biao… although he is arrogant, his talent… his heart… perhaps his crime does not warrant death!”
“How about… how about exiling him three thousand li? Let him serve on the border? Your Majesty!”
“Bastard—!”
Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly turned his head, the fury in his eyes exploding like tangible thunder.
He grabbed the paperweight on the imperial desk and smashed it fiercely onto the ground in front of Yun Ming, making a loud “bang,” and jade fragments scattered.
“You dare interfere in state affairs?! Do you want to die?!”
Old Zhu’s voice roared like a wounded beast, the entire hall trembling under his rage.
Yun Ming was terrified, almost collapsing to the ground, his face as pale as paper, kowtowing repeatedly:
“Your servant dares not! Your servant deserves death! Your Majesty, forgive me! Your Majesty, forgive me!”
However, the more severe punishment he expected did not come.
Old Zhu stared intently at Yun Ming, who was kowtowing like pounding garlic, his chest heaving violently. The immense rage seemed to be blocked by something, making it difficult to fully vent.
After a long while, he seemed to have exhausted his strength and slumped back into the dragon throne. His roar turned into a low, suppressed murmur, filled with deep fatigue and contradiction:
“What do you know… You know nothing…”
“Zhang Biao, that madman… I understand him…”
“Everything he has done, demanding salary, auditing, scolding me, even bringing up the old matter of the Crown Prince… He did all this to seek death!”
“Only if he dies will these things he has done, these words he has spoken, have meaning! They will be like nails, hammered into my heart, hammered into the annals of Great Ming! For future generations to ponder, to be warned!”
“He is using his life… to give us, to give this Great Ming Empire… a strong medicine!”
At this point, Old Zhu’s emotions flared up again. He slammed the table fiercely, his anger surging once more, this time directed at Zhang Biao’s lack of trust:
“But he doesn’t trust us!”
“He thinks we can’t do it! He thinks we only know how to kill, not how to cure!”
“He says we only achieved fifty percent effectiveness! Bullshit! What else does he want us to do?! Do you really want me to execute Huang’er and Kang’er?”
“Do you want me to be a lonely emperor, a true tyrant?!”
“Preposterous! Bastard! Madman!”
He paced back and forth behind the imperial desk like a trapped beast, his curses echoing in the vast hall, filled with anger at being seen through and questioned, and a deep sense of powerlessness.
Finally, all his excitement turned into deeper fatigue.
He stumbled back to the dragon throne, his gaze falling on the iron box from Zhu Yunteng lying quietly in the corner of the imperial desk.
His thoughts drifted.
He remembered the three major hidden dangers Zhang Biao had shouted hoarsely in the Hall of Supreme Harmony Square.
【 Official salaries driving corruption… 】
【 Princes becoming too powerful… 】
【 The Crown Prince being vacant… 】
He remembered the shocking ledger Zhang Biao had calculated for him.
【 In the 25th year of Hongwu, the second generation of the imperial clan of Great Ming, seventy-two people… 】
【 In the 45th year of Hongwu, there were eighteen hundred people… 】
【 In the 165th year of Hongwu, there were five million six hundred thousand people… 】
He remembered the seemingly mad suggestions Zhang Biao had proposed.
【 Abolish the salary system for princes… 】
These words echoed repeatedly in his mind like a demonic chant.
Kill? Or not kill?
Not kill, exile?
Then all the symbolic meaning and impact of what Zhang Biao had done would be greatly reduced.
His death was, in itself, the most important ingredient of this “strong medicine.”
Moreover, keeping him would always be a threat. His existence was a provocation to imperial power.
But to kill him…
It would be equivalent to personally extinguishing this lamp of madness that might illuminate the thorny path ahead.
It would be tantamount to admitting to the world that he was unable, or rather, unwilling, to truly touch those deep-seated accumulated malpractices.
It would be equivalent to making Zhang Biao’s “fifty percent effectiveness” the final judgment on his reign as Zhu Yuanzhang.
Old Zhu’s heart struggled intensely.
His hands, accustomed to wielding the power of life and death, trembled slightly at this moment.
The ruthlessness of an emperor, the concerns of a father, the worry for the future of the empire, and a trace of inexplicable regret for that unique soul… all these emotions intertwined like a tangled mess.
His gaze drifted out of the hall again, as if piercing through the heavy palace walls, to see the figure on the execution ground in the West Market about to face death.
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
After a long, long time.
The last trace of hesitation and ripple in Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes finally completely subsided, turning into a deep, icy resolve.
He slowly closed his eyes and squeezed a cold, weary, yet undeniable word from the depths of his throat:
“Kill!”
For the stability of the Great Ming Empire, for the dignity of the Emperor, and to fulfill Zhang Biao’s chosen “meaning” forged by death.
Although this “meaning” would be like a red-hot branding iron, leaving an indelible mark on Zhu Yuanzhang’s heart.
Leaning back on the dragon throne, he seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.
Just then, the old eunuch guarding the door rushed in, almost crawling.
His face was ashen, his expression strange, as if wanting to cry and laugh at the same time. He knelt on the ground with a “plop,” his voice distorted:
“Your… Your Majesty! The execution ground… the execution ground…”
“Speak!”
Old Zhu’s eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp.
“That bastard, did he say something insolent again? Or… does he not want to die anymore?”
If Zhang Biao no longer wanted to die, and even begged for mercy, he would truly pardon him.
However, what the old eunuch said next completely refreshed his understanding of Zhang Biao.
The old eunuch swallowed, organizing his words with difficulty, and stuttered through everything that had happened on the execution ground as reported by the Imperial Guard.
From Zhang Biao teasing Shen Lang and others who were crying, to Fang Xiaoru stepping forward to reprimand him, to Zhang Biao’s shocking “Analects interpretation,” and finally to the absurd request for “burial goods”…
As the old eunuch narrated, Old Zhu’s expression shifted from cold anticipation to astonishment, then to disbelief, and finally completely turned into overwhelming rage and a sense of being fooled and absurd.
“He really debated the Analects with Fang Xiaoru on the execution ground?!”
Old Zhu’s voice trembled slightly from extreme shock and anger:
“And… and even made up such nonsense as ‘only thirty people are worthy of standing up to fight’?”
“It’s absolutely true, Your Majesty!”
The old eunuch was almost in tears:
“Mr. Fang was so angry with him… so angry he couldn’t speak at the time! His face turned white! Many ministers… couldn’t help but laugh…”
“Bastard! Insolent! Insolent—!”
Old Zhu slammed the imperial desk fiercely, stood up abruptly, his chest heaving violently, his face ashen.
He had imagined countless ways for Zhang Biao to die, but never expected it to be like this.
This was hardly a scene of a martyr’s heroic tragedy. This was clearly a street ruffian rolling on the ground in a market!
He had turned his meticulously arranged, politically charged public execution into an absurd farce watched by the entire city!
“He wants burial goods?! He wants us to burn pig’s head meat and glazed wine sets for him?!”
Old Zhu was so angry he almost fainted, his hand pointing outside the hall trembling:
“Who does he think he is?! Is he going to be an official in the underworld?! Huh?!”
Old Zhu felt a surge of fiery anger rush to his head, his temples throbbing.
He had intended to use Zhang Biao’s head to awe the officials, warn the princes, and show the pure stream faction what it meant to “sacrifice one’s life for righteousness.”
And the result? This madman Zhang Biao, before his death, turned his execution ground into a stage, his imperial dignity into a stepping stone, and performed a comical play of “enraging a great scholar and extorting the emperor”!
Now, the entire city’s populace and the entire court are not watching some “tragic martyrdom,” but watching how Zhu Yuanzhang was toyed with by a death row inmate on the execution ground!
They were watching how his imperial court became a storytelling venue!
“Where is Jiang Huan?! What was Jiang Huan doing?!”
Old Zhu roared in disbelief, “Did he just let him spout nonsense there?!”
“Commander Jiang also… couldn’t stop him…”
The old eunuch was so scared he almost lost his soul:
“It is said that Zhang Biao… he was not afraid of death at all, spoke quickly, and had a string of sophistry, even Mr. Fang couldn’t debate him…”
“Useless! All useless!”
Old Zhu paced back and forth in the hall like a furious lion trapped.
He felt like a host who had meticulously prepared a grand banquet, only for the guest to jump on the table during the meal and start singing vulgar songs.
All his calculations, all his dignity, all his political intentions, were shattered by this last chaotic act of Zhang Biao.
What “martyr’s mirror” was this? This was clearly a funhouse mirror!
What was reflected was Zhu Yuanzhang’s joke!
“Kill! Kill him for me immediately! Immediately!”
Old Zhu could no longer hold back, roaring at the hall outside, his voice cracking, “Don’t let him say another word! Chop him! Chop him now—!”
He didn’t want to hear any more news from the execution ground!
He just wanted this absurd farce to end immediately!
However, it took time for the decree to be transmitted.
Old Zhu slumped back onto the dragon throne, panting, his face showing unprecedented fatigue and a deep sense of powerlessness.
He had schemed his whole life, controlled his whole life, only to be utterly outmaneuvered in the end by a madman who sought death, in a way he had never expected.
【 Zhang Biao… Zhang Biao… 】
【 You win… 】
【 You, damn it, used the most outrageous method to make me the biggest joke in the world… 】
Old Zhu leaned back against the chair, closed his eyes, and seemed to age ten years in an instant.
In his ears, he could already hear how the historians would record this scene in the future:
【 In the Hongwu era, there was a madman named Zhang Biao, who disrupted the execution ground, mocked the great scholars with the Analects, and even demanded burial goods from the Emperor before his execution… 】
【 And Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang, in this farce, played an extremely awkward and angry role. 】
This was more unbearable than killing him.
【 Grass! Mother! Horse! 】
Old Zhu was tired and thought, let’s destroy it all, quickly.
Seeking double monthly tickets~
Give me some strength, and I’ll write more~
