Da Ming: I told you to die for your cause, why are you actually going to die?

Chapter 45 Old Zhu: We're collapsing, we're really collapsing! [Seeking monthly votes]

"Jiang Huan! Seize these bastards!! Throw them all into the imperial prison!!"

Old Zhu thought of Zhang Biao, and his anger reached its peak.

However, just as Zhu ordered the arrest of these low-ranking officials in Beijing, those who had just been quoting classical texts, expressing their deep sorrow and vehemently criticizing corruption for undermining the foundation of the nation, suddenly acted in unison.

Swish swish!
at the same time!

Shut up!

To shut up!

The grief and indignation on his face vanished instantly!
then.

Their movements were incredibly swift.

He pulled out that familiar, greasy book from his pocket—"A Bloody and Tearful Record of Demanding Unpaid Wages."

Dozens of tattered account books appeared before everyone's eyes as if by magic.

An eerie silence fell over the Fengtian Hall.

Everyone was stunned.

What... what's going on here now?!

The low-ranking officials in the capital moved with fluid grace.

Open the ledger.

The finger precisely taps a specific page.

His face suddenly switched to a mixture of grievance, accusation, and a self-righteous "you decide what to do" attitude.

Just moments ago, Li Mo, the editor, had been quoting classical texts and vehemently denouncing corruption. Now, his voice boomed, carrying the uncouth tone of someone haggling in a market: "Your Majesty! You can arrest us, but shouldn't we settle our accounts first?"

"Just use the same standard you gave to Imperial Censor Zhang Biao last time!"

"I heard that Wang Mazi's Meat Shop is offering a 20% discount on pig's head meat for group purchases today. I want to treat my family to a good meal before I die!"

boom--! !

This is a turning point!
It's steeper than cliff diving!

Just moments before, the entire court, immersed in a somber atmosphere of condemnation—the scoundrels, the contemptible meat-eaters, and the ferocity of oppressive government—was instantly stunned and petrified by this mercenary demand for a 20% discount on pig's head meat in a group purchase.

The sage's words and the pork head meat in my head are fighting fiercely.

Old Zhu almost choked on his breath.

He pointed at the group of low-ranking officials in Beijing below, holding account books and wearing expressions that said, "You've finished cursing, so you should pay up." His fingers trembled like he had Parkinson's disease, and his lips quivered. He wanted to roar, "Drag them out and behead them!" but his throat felt like it was blocked by dozens of pig heads.

Before he could catch his breath, Zhao Fengman, the censor of Henan Circuit, seamlessly took over, holding up the account book and saying in a loud voice:

"Your Majesty, please be wise! I have condemned these corrupt officials and nobles, and I have also exposed these parasites on the foundation of the nation! You can't just make us work without paying us, can you?"

"My throat is hoarse from all the cursing, I desperately need some nourishment!"

"Please settle my salary, which is owed for eight months and twenty-three days! It's fifty taels and eight mace of silver, plus compensation for emotional distress, totaling sixty taels, to be paid in cash! I support paper money, but it must be converted to a devalued form!"

"I second the proposal!"

Sun Gui, the official in charge of the official robes, patted his patched robes with exaggerated movements, as if the seams might come undone at any moment.
"This attire of mine is disgraceful to the nation's dignity in court, and impeachment would damage my prestige. I urgently need to purchase new robes! I owe eighty taels of silver for back wages and fifty taels for clothing expenses, totaling one hundred and thirty taels! I refuse to accept pepper and sappanwood as payment!"

"And the minister!"

Another official squeezed forward, holding up the account book, his face serious:
"The rats in my household are so hungry they're gnawing on the Analects, severely damaging Confucian classics and causing incalculable cultural loss. The owed wages must be paid in full, plus the cost of restoring the classics, totaling five hundred taels!"

For a while.

"Pay back the money!"

"Bill, please!"

"The pig's head meat is almost gone!"

"Like a mouse waiting for rice to be cooked!"

Various slang terms and absurd demands, accompanied by loud resounding recounts and belches, were like a demonic cacophony, completely drowning out the last trace of solemnity and dignity of the Fengtian Hall.

Old Zhu sat on the dragon throne, looking down at the group of low-ranking Beijing officials who held up tattered account books and seemed possessed by debt collectors, listening to the overwhelming shouts of demanding repayment, mixed with the faint smell of pig's head meat and strong liquor in the air.
He felt as if a huge, greasy, wildly spinning—debt-collecting pig's head had been stuffed into his brain!
The verses of sages and the cries of debt collectors from the marketplace collided and churned wildly in his mind.

The ashen faces of the high-ranking officials and nobles of the Six Ministries, and the shiny faces of the lower-ranking officials in Beijing, flashed alternately before my eyes.

The solemn golden brick floor of the Fengtian Hall seemed to have been transformed into a greasy cutting board in a vegetable market.

"Jiang Huan!!!"

Old Zhu's boundless rage finally erupted. He slammed his fist on the table, his hair and beard bristling, the dragon throne pounding with a loud thud. His voice, distorted with extreme fury, screamed: "Drag these bastards out and behead them!!!"

"The minister obeys the order!"

Jiang Huan's face was as cold and stern as iron, and his embroidered spring knife was drawn half an inch from its sheath with a clang.

The Imperial Guards on duty outside the hall reacted immediately upon hearing the commotion, rushing into the hall like wolves and tigers.

but.

Just as the Embroidered Uniform Guard was about to make their move.

Those low-ranking Beijing officials who were just moments before spouting spittle, crying poverty, and burping loudly, once again performed a move in perfect unison that left everyone speechless.

Brush brush!
Dozens of people.

They are quick-witted and have fast hands.

Simultaneously.

They slammed the book, "A Record of Blood and Tears for Unpaid Wages," which they were holding high.

next moment.

With lightning speed, it can cover your ears.

It was stuffed into his mouth!
That's right! It was stuffed into his mouth!

Then, with all its might, it bit down hard.

His cheeks were puffed out high.

His eyes were resolute.

It was as if it were some priceless treasure, something that could not be taken away even at the cost of death.

The entire Fengtian Hall suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

You can hear the needle drop.

Old Zhu: "."

Jiang Huan: "."

Embroidered Uniform Guard: "."

Other officials: "."

Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor.

Their minds went completely blank as they looked at the group of low-ranking officials in Beijing, their cheeks puffed out, eyes wide, and biting their tattered ledgers like they were all sucking on giant betel nuts.

What the hell is this?!
The Imperial Guards, swords in hand, were caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to charge or not, and stood frozen in place, exchanging bewildered glances.

Arrest them? But they didn't resist!

He just had a tattered notebook stuffed in his mouth. What kind of resistance to arrest is that?!
Are we supposed to pry open their mouths and snatch the notebook? Just thinking about that scene is disgusting!
Old Zhu was trembling with rage. Pointing at the group of 'righteous' scoundrels below, his fingers shook as if he were holding a small monster: "What are you all trying to do? Rebellion?!"

"Ugh! Ugh!"

Shen Lang puffed out his cheeks, biting his copy of "A Blood and Tears Record of Demanding Unpaid Wages," and protested incoherently, his eyes filled with grief and grievance, while he shook his head vigorously.

Other lower-ranking officials in the capital also immediately followed suit:
"Uh-huh! Uh-huh!"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"

"Hiccup!"

Someone got so excited that they couldn't help but let out a loud burp, almost spitting out the account book in their mouth, before quickly biting it back down.

For a moment, the Fengtian Hall was filled with various indistinct "uh-uh" sounds, angry head shaking, and burps rising and falling.
And those dozens of copies of "The Blood and Tears of Demanding Unpaid Wages," bitten until they were dripping with saliva and the edges were deformed.

Solemn? Awe-inspiring? Imperial majesty?!
They were all shattered by this absurd and utterly disgusting scene.

Old Zhu felt a rush of blood rushing to his head, his vision blurred with stars, and his ears were filled with buzzing "uh-uh" sounds and burps.

He felt his sanity being repeatedly rubbed into the ground by a group of madmen who were burping while sucking on ledgers.

He opened his mouth, wanting to roar, wanting to kill, wanting to grind these bastards and the tattered notebooks in their mouths to dust.

But it felt like his throat was stuffed with pig's head meat, and he couldn't utter a single word.

This is a breakdown! Old Zhu is really about to break down!!
How did that bastard Zhang Biao teach them?!

(End of this chapter)