Chapter 18: Old Zhu Is Numb Again! New Book Seeking Collection
“Alright, let’s get back to the main topic!”
Seeing Old Zhu stunned on the spot, Zhang Biao quickly said:
“Your Majesty mentioned his ‘Myriad Generations Law’ just now. I won’t calculate for ten thousand generations, let’s take twenty years as a generation. In the 25th year of Hongwu, there were seventy-two members of the Great Ming’s first generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
“In the 45th year of Hongwu, there were three hundred and sixty members of the Great Ming’s second generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
“In the 65th year of Hongwu, there were one thousand eight hundred members of the Great Ming’s third generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
“In the 85th year of Hongwu, there were nine thousand members of the Great Ming’s fourth generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
“In the 105th year of Hongwu, there were forty-five thousand members of the Great Ming’s fifth generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
Upon hearing this, not only did Old Zhu’s scalp tingle, but even Jiang Huan, who was not far away, was filled with horror.
“In the 125th year of Hongwu, there were two hundred and thirty thousand members of the Great Ming’s sixth generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
“In the 145th year of Hongwu, there were one million one hundred and thirty thousand members of the Great Ming’s seventh generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
“In the 165th year of Hongwu, there were five million six hundred thousand members of the Great Ming’s eighth generation of Imperial Clan Relatives.”
Zhang Biao calculated unhurriedly. Old Zhu, standing on the imperial steps, felt as if struck by lightning, his mind buzzing.
With his intelligence, how could he not understand what was happening?
People are sometimes like this, blinded by their own involvement.
Old Zhu believed his “Myriad Generations Law” would allow his imperial sons and grandsons to coexist with the Great Ming until eternity, but the reality was far from it.
According to statistics from the late Ming Dynasty, the number of Commandery Princes alone approached a thousand, not to mention the imperial clan disciples, which were about one million.
For such a massive group of Imperial Clan Relatives, the annual Clan Stipend expenditure reached over eight million piculs.
And the annual grain revenue of the late Ming Dynasty was only over four million piculs.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that the Ming Dynasty perished due to its imperial clan.
“Your Majesty, I have calculated up to the eighth generation. I wonder if your imperial court’s National Treasury is still sufficient? I’m afraid it’s not even enough to support your Zhu family, right?”
Zhang Biao’s voice was calm and indifferent: “You mentioned earlier about high officials and generous salaries, governing for the people of the world? Then, I’d like to ask you, where do these high officials and generous salaries come from? And whose rule are you enacting?”
“Is it for all the people in the world to support your Zhu family? Or are you treating all the people in the world as your Zhu family’s livestock?”
“Bastard things!”
Hearing this, Old Zhu snapped back to reality, his eyes wide with fury: “How dare you…”
“How dare I?”
Zhang Biao coldly interrupted Old Zhu: “Have I not calculated it clearly enough? If we follow your ‘Myriad Generations Law’, will there be a commoner two hundred years later, with the same aspirations as Your Majesty, shouting the slogan ‘Govern for the People’, rising up in rebellion, wielding a butcher knife, and slaughtering those millions of Imperial Clan Relatives, Imperial Nobles, like pigs and dogs?”
“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”
Old Zhu roared with disbelief, his face ashen: “My Great Ming! My descendants! My… You monstrous thing! You are talking nonsense! Guards! Drag him out and behead him! Dismember him!!”
“Hahaha!”
Zhang Biao threw his head back and laughed, as if he had achieved his goal. He slowly closed his eyes, allowing Jiang Huan and his men to drag him away.
However, just as he thought he was about to return to the modern era, Old Zhu stopped Jiang Huan: “Wait!”
“???”
Zhang Biao’s eyes shot open, his face full of question marks.
Old Zhu, however, seemed to have regained his composure, his voice cold and unyielding: “Bring him here! I still have something to ask him!”
Jiang Huan and the others naturally complied and brought Zhang Biao back below the imperial steps.
Old Zhu’s gaze was intense as he said, “Since you have found the root of the problem, you must have a solution. Tell me, and I will spare your life!”
“What solution?” Zhang Biao asked, completely bewildered.
Old Zhu said with disappointment, “A method for my Great Ming to last for ten thousand generations!”
“There isn’t one!”
“What did you say!?”
“Don’t yell!”
Zhang Biao said impatiently, “There are no dynasties in this world that have lasted for more than three hundred years, let alone a method for ten thousand generations! Besides, with the policies you’ve implemented, if it lasts a hundred years, you’ll be impressive!”
“What a hundred years? Didn’t you just say our Great Ming would last over two hundred years!?” Old Zhu asked, enraged.
Zhang Biao replied calmly, “That was about the salary of the imperial clan, not the problem of the country. You’ve implemented so many chaotic policies. While you are here, the problems might not be apparent, but after you are gone, see how many problems there will be!”
“If I’m gone, what’s there to see!”
Old Zhu, completely overwhelmed, swore directly.
Zhang Biao’s mouth twitched. He said, ‘Indeed,’ and then spoke solemnly, “Then let’s talk about the two most pressing issues. First, you enfeoffed the princes to guard the capital! But have you ever considered? The princes possess three guards, tens of thousands of elite troops, and control over vast territories! Today they are your sons, loyal ministers and good generals!”
“But after your hundred years, who will control them? If Crown Prince Yiwen were still alive, there would be no need to worry, but since Crown Prince Yiwen is no longer here, who can guarantee that they won’t become the next Rebellion of the Seven States? The next Calamity of the Eight Kings? Your Majesty! The foundation you laid with your own hands, is it a cornerstone to safeguard the state? Or… a root of future brothers fighting each other and rivers of blood?!”
“Silence!!”
Zhu Yuanzhang’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared.
Zhang Biao’s words struck directly at the deepest part of his heart, his greatest hidden worry.
It was a terrifying vision he dared not contemplate even in his nightmares.
His sons, whom he had enfeoffed with his own hands… killing each other?
Zhang Biao did not flinch, facing the wrath that could burn everything, and uttered his final, sharpest cry: “There is one more issue!”
He pointed outside the hall, as if pointing in the direction of the recently buried Ming Dong Mausoleum: “Crown Prince Yiwen has been buried, the successor position remains vacant, the entire court has its own agenda, and the princes and nobles are restless!”
“Initially, I wouldn’t have brought this up, but Lu Ping, Qi Tai, and others have already clarified the issue. If you continue to hesitate, the court will only become more restless, and various factions will engage in covert struggles. You are planting the seeds of turmoil for the Great Ming Empire! You are creating opportunities for those ambitious individuals!”
As he spoke, Zhang Biao’s voice seemed to carry immense weight, each word striking Old Zhu’s heart: “The integrity of loyal ministers might not save the Great Ming Dynasty, but a clear-headed Censor who dares to face these accumulated malpractices and dare to raise these questions through dying for a cause, perhaps can!”
He straightened his spine abruptly, like a pine tree unyielding in the wind and snow, his gaze like lightning, piercing into the depths of Old Zhu’s eyes, and said word by word:
“As long as his death can bring about a sliver of awakening! Can lead to a reflection on the Official Salary system! Can lead to the restriction of princely power! Can lead to an early, legitimate Crown Prince! Can reduce the risk of the Great Ming’s foundation being hollowed out by a fraction…”
Zhang Biao’s voice was like a burnt-out torch, carrying its final heat and resolve: “Then! I fear not the crumbling of my bones, for I wish to… remain clear-headed in the human world!”
“Your Majesty!”
Zhang Biao’s voice suddenly rose: “Kill me! Use my blood to give this glorious Great Ming a reminder!”
As his words fell, a deathly silence descended upon the Hall of Supreme Harmony!
You could hear a pin drop!
Old Zhu was dumbfounded, his entire body numb again.
