Chapter 69: Don’t Worry, You’re All Going To Die! Seeking Monthly Tickets
“Brother Biao.”
As soon as they were away from that grim place, Shen Lang was the first to break.
He quickly took two steps to catch up with Zhang Biao, his voice trembling with the relief of survival and lingering fear:
“Brother Biao, are we really just leaving like this? If the Emperor wakes up, will he…?”
He made a throat-slitting motion, his face pale.
The others also gathered around, chattering, full of fear:
“That’s right, Censor Zhang! The Emperor seems to have been quite angered by you.”
“We caused such a scene today.”
“Flaying, torture, nine generations of kin…”
Someone remembered Zhou Ya’s fate, their teeth chattering.
Zhang Biao stopped, looking at this group of good brothers who had just shouted ‘Die for the Great Ming’ and were now cowering like quails in fear, and suddenly grinned.
That smile, in the afterglow of the setting sun, seemed particularly abstract.
He reached out and patted Shen Lang’s shoulder heavily, then surveyed everyone, saying clearly in a tone that was extremely certain, matter-of-fact, and even slightly dismissive of a minor issue: “Don’t worry!”
The crowd’s eyes lit up, as if they had grasped a lifeline.
Could Brother Biao still have a plan?!
Zhang Biao slowly rummaged in his **bosom**, pulled out a few pieces of silver, weighed them, and then looked at them with a ‘you know’ smile: “We will die, definitely die.”
Everyone: “???”
Their smiles froze instantly, their hearts turning ice cold.
Then Zhang Biao changed the subject, raising the broken silver in his hand, his eyes full of anticipation for some sacred ritual: “But! We haven’t eaten those five pig’s heads yet, have we?”
He paused, emphasizing his words as if announcing a major national policy: “Heaven is great, eating is great! Only when we’ve eaten our fill will we have the strength to go on our way!”
“Let’s go! To my place! Tonight we’ll eat and drink well! There will be plenty of pig’s head meat!”
Zhang Biao waved his hand grandly, his spirit soaring, as if he wasn’t the one who had just angered the Emperor unconscious, verbally dismissed the entire court of nobles, and was now facing the threat of being flayed alive.
Hearing this, the crowd was stunned for a moment, then burst into cheers.
That’s right!
There was no point in worrying about anything now; it was better to eat their fill first!
Even if they were beheaded, they would be a well-fed ghost!
Moreover, what they had done today was enough to go down in history. Even if they weren’t the main characters, their lives were worth it.
And so, under the setting sun.
A group of ‘salary demand team’ who had just experienced a life-or-death race against time and had an uncertain future, at Zhang Biao’s call, with infinite yearning for ‘grease and oil’, marched with steps that were either heavy or light, with clear objectives towards Zhang Biao’s official residence, moving forward with unwavering resolve.
Shen Lang, who watched them leave first, sighed with a complicated expression and muttered:
“Then tonight’s meal will be a death row meal, won’t it?!”
“*Pa!*”
A large hand suddenly patted Shen Lang on the shoulder, followed by a teasing voice:
“What’s wrong, Brother Shen? Wasn’t today’s dying for a cause exciting enough? Or was the pig’s head meat not tasty?”
“Brother Biao, I…”
Shen Lang flinched from the pat and then turned to look at Zhang Biao, hesitant to speak.
Zhang Biao grinned and then shoved the few pieces of silver in his hand into Shen Lang’s: “Here, take it.”
Shen Lang subconsciously caught them, feeling the weight and Zhang Biao’s warmth.
He looked down, and was so shocked he almost dropped the silver: “Brother Biao?! Is this silver? Why so much?!”
“Much? What ‘much’!”
Zhang Biao scoffed and gestured with his chin at the silver: “It’s only five taels and three mace and seven candareens in total. Barely enough to buy half a pig!”
“Then what is this?” Shen Lang was a little dazed.
The playfulness on Zhang Biao’s face faded slightly, his gaze drifted into the distance, and his voice deepened:
“Go to the southern city, to the last house on Willow Lane, the one with a crooked neck tree by the doorway. Take this money to Old Censor Wang’s family.”
“Old Censor Wang?”
Shen Lang instantly understood, and his heart ached.
Old Censor Wang Zhong, who had starved to death in his home.
Zhang Biao nodded, seemingly unwilling to dwell on the matter, and returned to his nonchalant tone: “Tell them that the Ministry of Revenue owes Old Wang his salary, those three notes…”
He patted his chest, then continued: “I remember it here, it’s valid! I’ll collect it all for them later! Tell them to hold on, and don’t do anything rash like Old Wang. In this world, you can still live!”
Shen Lang gripped the broken silver tightly, looking at Zhang Biao’s thin, washed-out robe swaying in the cold wind, his eyes suddenly felt a little hot.
He knew Zhang Biao himself was broke, and this more than five taels of silver was absolutely all he had.
“Brother Biao…”
Shen Lang’s voice was choked with emotion:
“This is… this is all your money? Why did you give it all away?”
Zhang Biao, who was about to catch up with the group of low-ranking capital officials ahead, suddenly stiffened at the remark, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He spun around, his eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost, staring at Shen Lang:
“What the hell?! How did you know?! Can you read minds, or were you spying on me?!”
Shen Lang felt a bit embarrassed by Zhang Biao’s overly strong reaction and quickly explained:
“No, Brother Biao, I calculated it.”
“Calculated?”
Zhang Biao raised his eyebrows.
Shen Lang began to count on his slightly stiff, frozen fingers, speaking softly and methodically:
“A few days ago, you got fifty taels of silver back from the Emperor and gave me twenty taels.”
“Then, last night you treated the brothers to food and drink, ordered ten jin of pig’s head meat and three jars of Shao Daozi liquor, plus those five pig’s heads. The total cost of today’s meal, I calculated, was about twenty-four taels, six mace…”
“So, the remainder would be the five taels, three mace, and seven candareens you have in your pocket, right?”
Shen Lang’s voice grew quieter and quieter, until it was almost a mosquito’s hum.
But the precision made Sun Gui, Li Mo, and others who were eavesdropping with their ears pricked gasp.
The air seemed to congeal.
Zhang Biao remained in that wide-eyed, open-mouthed pose for a full three breaths.
The cold wind blew through his somewhat messy hair, and the shock on his face slowly faded, replaced by an extremely strange expression.
It was as if he had discovered a rare treasure, or as if he had been bitten by the rabbit he had raised.
He slowly, slowly began to smile, the smile growing wider and wider until it turned into silent, convulsive laughter that shook his shoulders.
He pointed at Shen Lang, laughing so hard he could barely breathe:
“Good kid! You’re something else! You’re truly a talent! If you don’t become an accountant, you’re wasting your talent as a censor, a huge waste! Hahaha! You even know exactly how many copper coins are in my pocket! Hahaha!”
Shen Lang’s face turned red from his laughter, and he became flustered.
Zhang Biao laughed his fill, then heavily patted Shen Lang’s shoulder again, almost making him stagger: “Talent! Good! Accountant Shen! Don’t worry, I’m not broke!”
He stood up straight, facing the cold wind, his face regaining that arrogant expression, his voice carrying clearly to everyone’s ears:
“Tomorrow! Tomorrow we go to the Ministry of Revenue!”
“To the Ministry of Revenue? Didn’t they say they have no money? Vice Minister Fu cried poverty so hard at the last court session…”
“No money?”
Zhang Biao scoffed, spreading his hands: “If there’s no money, then we offset the debt with assets!”
“Tables, chairs, benches, writing brush, ink, paper, inkstone, flowers and plants… if all else fails, we can skin them and see how much their official robes are worth!”
“Can’t such a large Ministry of Revenue Office squeeze out our hard-earned money?!”
At this statement, Shen Lang and the others were stunned.
They had just angered the Emperor unconscious, and now they were going to snatch his money? Would the Emperor even wake up?
……
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