My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

The two Imperial Guards instantly understood, and they both tightened their grip on "Young Master Li's" arm like iron clamps. One of them even gave him a light but firm bump on the back of the knee.

"Ouch!"

Caught off guard, "Young Master Li's" legs went weak, and he was almost dragged and carried by the two men, stumbling involuntarily toward the stairwell.

His cronies, seeing this, wanted to step forward to stop him, but were silently blocked by several other disguised imperial guards who had already received a signal.

The chilling aura emanating from these men sent a shiver down the spines of the young dandies, who were now mostly sober, and they dared not press forward any further.

After dealing with "Young Master Li," Ma Bao's gaze did not turn away, but instead turned to the corner of the hall.

There, the young girl who had been harassed earlier and was still in shock was being supported by a maid-like person. Her dress was torn in the struggle, her hair was disheveled, her face was still wet with tears, and her eyes were filled with fear and helplessness.

Ma Bao looked at her, his expression softening slightly, and lowered his voice as he said:

“Young lady, do not be afraid, and do not cry anymore. My young master upstairs already knows the details of today’s events. Please calm down and be patient. He will surely give you justice today.”

Upon hearing this, Pear Blossom trembled, raised her tear-filled face, and looked in the direction of the voice.

When she saw the somewhat familiar face, she was first taken aback, and then a scene from not long ago flashed through her mind like lightning.

At the riverside wonton stall, there was that handsome young man who was generous, spoke kindly, and even apologized to his grandfather on behalf of his attendant!

It's him!

It turns out this person is that young master's attendant! That young master is also here, and in a private room upstairs!
At the same time, after Ma Bao finished speaking, he ignored everyone's reactions and went straight upstairs.

Before going upstairs, Ma Bao whispered a few words to a member of the Imperial Guard next to him.

Immediately, the Imperial Guards began to clear the area in unison.

Instead of rudely driving them away, they approached the guests who hadn't left or were still watching with suspicion in the hall, and spoke in a polite but uncompromising tone in low voices:
"Young master, sir, I'm sorry, but the esteemed guests upstairs have important matters to attend to. Please move aside for the time being. The drinks today are on my young master's behalf, so please do me the favor."

"Please, this way."

"Excuse me, please."

Their movements were swift and efficient, and although their tone was polite, the coldness in their eyes and the subtle aura they exuded made it impossible for these ordinary guests and wealthy businessmen to feel any resistance.

With the shopkeeper bowing and apologizing repeatedly, the crowd, though curious and suspicious, knew it was not a good place to linger. They all got up and, under the "guidance" of the Imperial Guards, quickly and quietly left the hall.

The shopkeeper was already terrified and covered in cold sweat.

Looking at these "powerful servants" who had taken control of the situation in an instant, cleared out the guests, and acted decisively, and recalling the "young master" upstairs who had not even shown his face but had sent a servant to say a few words and made the arrogant young master of the Earl's Mansion obediently go upstairs, how could he dare to be negligent or complain in the slightest?

At this moment, he felt only relief, relieved that the conflict had not escalated, and relieved that the "young master" seemed reasonable and was willing to "handle" the situation.

He hurried to the door, bowing repeatedly to the guests who had been "asked" to leave, his face full of apologetic smiles, his voice trembling slightly.

"Distinguished guests, gentlemen and gentlemen, we are truly sorry! We are so sorry! Our humble shop has failed to provide adequate service today and has disturbed your enjoyment. We are so sorry! Please take care on your journey and watch your step! All expenses for today will be waived as a small token of our apology! We hope you will forgive us and come again next time. Next time, our shop will certainly treat you better!"

The guests left in a hurry, and the hall quickly became empty and quiet, with only a few disguised imperial guards standing in various places, subtly guarding the stairs and exits.

The strong smells of alcohol, cosmetics, and the tension left by the previous conflict had not yet completely dissipated in the air.

The play downstairs seems to have temporarily come to an end, while the real show is about to unfold in the elegant room on the second floor, with bamboo curtains hanging down.

The private room on the second floor of Shuyuxuan was filled with the scent of sandalwood and tea, which should have been a tranquil and elegant space. However, due to the recent events and the arrival of the person who was about to arrive, it was now permeated with an invisible and oppressive atmosphere.

Zhu Cilang sat upright in the center, leaning back slightly, his posture seemingly relaxed, but the blue and white porcelain teacup in his hand, which had long since gone cold, was unconsciously turned by his slender fingers.

The rim of the glass made a barely audible, subtle friction sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet room.

His gaze was lowered as he stared at the pale amber-colored tea in the teacup, now completely still, as if lost in some profound contemplation.

Originally, this was just an ordinary incident.

An arrogant and dissolute nobleman, after drinking too much at a "refined place" on the banks of the Qinhuai River, took advantage of his drunkenness to harass a poor girl.

Such things probably happen every day in Nanjing, in such a place of extravagance, only to varying degrees.

Normally, even if the Crown Prince were to catch him, at most he would just order someone to drag that scoundrel out and throw him into the Yingtian Prefecture prison or the Jinyiwei prison, let the jailers give him a good "treatment," lock him up for ten days or half a month, give him a minor punishment as a warning, and make his family pay some money to teach him a lesson. That would be considered "upholding justice."

Even if he were the crown prince, he would have no reason to resort to private punishment or even take the life of a commoner for such a "minor offense" as harassing a woman.

Even when dealing with these parasites, the laws of the Ming Dynasty must be maintained on the surface.

However, in the brief moment when the noise and commotion downstairs was deafening, when "Young Master Li" was shouting and cursing, and when Pear Blossom was crying in fear, a thought flashed through Zhu Cilang's mind like lightning, instantly igniting a deeper scheme and aggression within him.

He recalled the almost insurmountable differences between the north and south of the Ming Dynasty.

The Ming Dynasty has lasted for more than 270 years since its founding.

In the north, from the Tumu Crisis to the Gengxu Incident of the Jiajing Emperor, from the Three Great Campaigns of the Wanli Emperor to the current war in Liaodong, there has almost never been a truly long period of peace.

With war raging year after year and border troubles constantly arising, even the sons of noble families in Beijing, many of whom had donned armor and fought alongside the army, even if it was just for a brief period of gilding, at least had witnessed the smoke of battle and felt the life-or-death struggle. Deep down, they still retained some of the fierceness and sense of crisis of their ancestors who had conquered the world on horseback.

War is like an anvil and a hammer; even if it cannot forge scrap iron into fine steel, it can at least knock off some dross.

And what about the South?

Since the founding of the Ming Dynasty by Emperor Taizu and the relocation of the capital to the north by Emperor Chengzu, this beautiful Jiangnan region and Nanjing, the secondary capital, have never experienced a truly large-scale, devastating war, except for the brief harassment of the coast by Japanese pirates and a few minor peasant uprisings in the mid-Ming period.

The main battlefield of the Jingnan Campaign was in the north, and the later battles of Tumu Fortress and the defense of Beijing had nothing to do with the Jiangnan region. This area was the empire's granary, a land of gentle wealth and elegance, and a place of literary refinement and elegance.

More than two hundred years of peace, like a pot of lukewarm water, slowly "stewed" the noble families and officials who had settled here until they were mushy and rotten, indulging in endless luxury and pleasure, intrigue and power struggles, and the games of land annexation and trade monopoly.

Far from the battlefield, far from the north wind and bloodshed of the border, they multiplied and corrupted generation after generation amidst the sounds of oars and lanterns on the Qinhuai River and the songs and dances of West Lake.

Their children are born into wealth and luxury, indulging in cockfighting, horse racing, and dalliances with women, squandering the military achievements their ancestors gained on horseback in brothels and gambling dens.

What of family, country, and the world? What of martial prowess and courage? They have long been worn away by the cosmetics of the Qinhuai River and the silver fish and water shield of Taihu Lake.

Today's "Young Master Li of the Changning Marquis's Mansion" is nothing more than a foul-smelling sore that has just sprouted on this huge, rotting body.

His arrogance, his ignorance, and his recklessness are a vivid and disgusting microcosm of the overall depravity and lack of discipline within the Southern Noble Clique! They have long since rotted in the warm and fragrant mud of Jiangnan, becoming utter parasites that only know how to suck the people's blood and sweat and ruin the nation's vitality!
The Jurchens in the north posed an open threat, a sword hanging overhead, while the termites in the south were like termites slowly corroding the pillars of a house—equally deadly, and even more difficult to eradicate due to their hidden nature and intricate networks of relationships.

A bold and ruthless plan quickly took shape in his mind.

Since the Liaodong issue must be resolved completely, a decisive war of annihilation that will determine the fate of the nation is inevitable next year.

Such a battle cannot tolerate the slightest mistake.

Although most of these noble families in Nanjing were mediocre and incompetent, they had cultivated their influence in Jiangnan for generations, possessing a dense network of relationships and wielding astonishing wealth and some potential influence.

In the unlikely event that some of them are blinded by greed or have secret collusion with the North, and engage in underhanded tactics at a critical moment, such as leaking military intelligence, disrupting logistics, or even secretly aiding the enemy, even if it only causes some chaos, it could lead to unpredictable consequences.

A thousand-mile dike can be breached by an ant hole; we must be vigilant.

But how can we prevent this from happening?
While harsh laws and stricter surveillance are necessary, there is an even more radical solution – hostages!
No, or rather, it's a combination of "gilding" and "pledge".

All the most valued sons of these noble families, who would inherit their titles and family businesses in the future, were "invited" to the capital!
In name only, it was an imperial favor to select the sons of noble families to come to the capital and enter the Imperial Academy or the New Army Military Academy for "advanced studies," to learn the way of loyalty to the emperor and patriotism, to receive military training, and to serve the country.

In reality, it means keeping them under Beijing's nose.

We don't expect them to actually fight on the battlefield and become famous generals, but at least we need to take them away from their comfortable lives, to the north, to a place close to the front lines, to let them experience the atmosphere of war, to witness the real clash of swords and the carnage of countless soldiers! Let them know that their current hedonistic lifestyle is built on the bloody battles fought by countless border soldiers!
Furthermore, it is crucial to make their families understand that their direct heirs, their very lifeblood, are in the hands of the imperial court! In this way, who would dare to harbor any wicked thoughts from behind the scenes? Wouldn't they be afraid of losing their lineage and their descendants?

Moreover, there are certain rules to follow when handling this matter.

We cannot take away all the children; that would cause panic and a violent backlash. We should only take away the eldest son.

In ancient times, when patriarchal clan system was highly valued, legitimate sons and illegitimate sons were treated very differently.

The eldest son is the symbol of the family's legitimate continuation, the ancestral line, and carries the future and hope of the entire family.

Taking away the eldest son is like holding these old nobles by the throat, which is half their life!

To ensure their eldest son's "pleasant learning experience" and "peace of mind" in Beijing, they not only dared not cause trouble, but would probably have to work even harder to show their loyalty to the court, and even... it is possible that they would once again "generously donate" to "actively contribute" to the war effort next year.

This is simply another risk-free and highly profitable business.

A cold glint flashed in Zhu Cilang's eyes, and a chilling smile curled at the corner of his lips.

This "Young Master Li" can be used as a warning to others, serving as the prelude and excuse for the entire plan.

Just as Zhu Cilang's thoughts were racing, rapidly escalating a simple case of indecency into a game of chess concerning the overall fate and political landscape of the southern nobility, light footsteps sounded outside the private room, followed by Luo Yangxing's deliberately lowered yet clearly audible report:

"Your Highness, the person has been brought here and is right outside the door."

Zhu Cilang snapped out of his reverie, his eyes instantly regaining their placid calm.

He stopped turning the teacup with his fingers, gently placed it on the low table, and it made a soft "tap" sound.

"Bring it in."

His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

"Yes."

Luo Yangxing responded.

The heavy brocade curtain was suddenly thrown open from the outside, letting in a flood of light.

Two burly, expressionless imperial guards in disguise dragged the still struggling "Young Master Li" in like a dead dog, then shoved him forward without any politeness.

"Ouch! Be gentle! You murderers..."

The young master Li was thrown off balance, his knees slamming heavily against the hard gold brick floor. He winced in pain, his anger and the effects of the alcohol rising within him.

He had already felt humiliated by being forcibly dragged downstairs, and now he was furious.

He managed to steady himself, raised his head, and looked ahead with blurry, drunken eyes.

The indoor lighting was softer than in the hall, but he was still drunk and his vision was blurry. He could only vaguely see a young gentleman in a moon-white silk robe sitting on a rosewood couch, looking at him calmly.

He didn't take a closer look at the people standing on either side.

Although he couldn't see the other person's face, their nonchalant attitude and the way they dragged him in like a piece of merchandise completely enraged this spoiled brat who was used to throwing his weight around.

He struggled to stand up, but due to drunkenness and knee pain, he slumped back down, remaining seated on the ground. Pointing at Zhu Cilang, his voice was sharp and shrill with anger and intoxication:
"You! Who are you? How dare you humiliate me like this? How dare you make me kneel down before you? Do you even know who I am?! I am the young master of the Marquis of Changning's mansion! My father is the Marquis of Changning! If you don't kowtow and apologize to me today, and then send that girl over, I'll make sure you never leave Nanjing!"

He roared, his voice laced with bravado but betraying his inner fear, trying to intimidate the other party with his family background. In his limited understanding, within the Nanjing region, apart from a handful of top noble families like the Duke of Wei and the Earl of Chengyi, their second-class earldoms were among the most powerful. The person before him was a complete stranger, certainly not from those families, so there was nothing to fear. (End of Chapter)