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

Chapter 73 Imperial Censor Zhang, Give Me a Chance! [Seeking Monthly Tickets]

The next morning, the weather was chilly.

Zhang Biao led his "wage-demanding team" in a grand procession to the entrance of the household registration department.

This team's formation is quite unique:

Some were wrapped in straw mats, some held chamber pot lamps as team flags, some hopped on one foot pretending to look for shoes, and there was a group of low-ranking Beijing officials whose legs were no longer numb but whose expressions were resigned to their fate.

The vermilion gates of the Ministry of Revenue were tightly shut. The gatekeepers were pale-faced, their legs were cramping, and they could barely hold their fire sticks.

Zhang Biao stepped forward, not banging on the door, but kicking the heavy door with his foot, making a dull thud, and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Hey! You parasites inside! Open the door! You've got the guts to owe me your wages, but not the guts to open the door? Don't hide inside and keep quiet, I know you're home!"

"Hurry up! Open the door! Let's negotiate a solution to the salary arrears for the 24th and 25th years of the Hongwu reign! We can talk about the interest; we can offer a 1% discount!"

Inside the door, all was deathly silent, save for the heavy breathing of the clerk.

Shen Lang was a little nervous and asked in a low voice, "Brother Biao, do you think they might resort to violence?"

"Use force? They wouldn't dare!"

Zhang Biao sneered:
"We are now the vanguard of rights protection, protected by the laws of the Ming Dynasty! Besides, we didn't cause any disturbances or vandalism. We were demanding our wages in a civilized manner, reasoning with them and presenting the facts. What right do they have to resort to violence? Just because they think they're so great?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a small head popped up from the gate tower. It was a clerk from the Ministry of Revenue, his face pale, who shouted, "Censor Zhang! Vice Minister Fu says he's not here! Please leave!"

"Not here?"

Zhang Biao sneered, then took a huge pig's head bone from a low-ranking official in the capital and gestured towards the gate tower: "Look what this is?"

The person in charge was taken aback: "These...these are pig bones?"

"wrong!"

Zhang Biao declared righteously and sternly: "This is the evidence! This is the physical evidence of our performance art at the Fengtian Hall court assembly and in the Fengtian Hall square, accusing your Ministry of Revenue of withholding wages and forcing us to eat scraps!"

"The physical evidence is here, and the witnesses are all in place. Your supervisor says he's not here? Then you're the temporary supervisor! Open the door!"

"Otherwise, I'll put on a live performance right here at the gate, a 'starving corpses gnawing on bones, tearful accusations,' so that all the people of Yingtian Prefecture can see how your Ministry of Revenue has driven us, the imperial officials, to this state!"

The official in charge on the gate tower was almost in tears: "Imperial Censor Zhang! Please don't make things difficult for me!"

"Embarrassed?"

Zhang Biao tossed the bone aside, clapped his hands, then suddenly changed his expression and sneered:
"I'm going to make things difficult for you today! I'll give you three breaths. If you don't open the door, I'll show you what a forced audit procedure is all about!"

As he spoke, he turned and called out to Shen Lang:
"Accountant Shen! Get ready to settle the accounts! Master Sun! Turn on that chamber pot lamp! Provide some light for our audit!"

"And you, Editor Li! Get ready to take notes!"

"Let's work right here in front of the Ministry of Revenue today, and calculate whether the illegal gains of Minister Fu and his brother-in-law are enough to offset our salaries!"

"Alright, Biao-ge!"

Shen Lang pulled out a small abacus from somewhere and started calculating rapidly. Although his hands were shaking a little, his posture was very professional.

Sun Gui hurriedly relit the chamber pot lamp, its faint, smelly glow illuminating Zhang Biao's arrogant face.

Li Mo quickly put on his shoes, took out the frozen calligraphy brush, licked it, and found that he couldn't lick it, so he simply dipped it in saliva to prepare to record.

Looking at this extremely abstract audit team, the person in charge on the gatehouse felt as if his career and outlook on life had been hit twice over.

Breathe!
From inside the door came hurried footsteps and whispers.

Two breaths!

Zhang Biao had already started loudly counting off:

"Fu Youwen, in the twenty-fourth year of Hongwu (1389), acquired three newly made silk official robes, estimated value fifteen taels! His brother-in-law booked three pleasure boats on the Qinhuai River, estimated expenditure..."

"No! Don't forget it!"

A scream, tinged with sobs, came from inside the door.

Less than three breaths later! "Creak—"

With a deafening crash, the heavy vermilion gate of the Ministry of Revenue actually opened a crack.

Fu Youwen's face was deathly pale, and he was covered in cold sweat.

He had obviously been eavesdropping behind the door, and now he couldn't hold on any longer.

He squeezed through the crack in the door, looking at the group of demons and monsters outside, especially Zhang Biao's ambiguous smile, and felt immense pressure in his bladder.

His voice trembled, filled with endless grievance and fear, as he cried out, "Imperial Censor Zhang! Give me a chance!"

puff!
Behind him, a group of nervous, low-ranking officials from Beijing almost burst out laughing, then quickly covered their mouths.

"Oh, Minister Fu, you want an opportunity?"

Zhang Biao chuckled, crossing his arms:

“Sure! First, settle the money you owe us, and then have the money you embezzled and your brother-in-law illegally obtained voluntarily turned over to the national treasury. Then I will petition the Emperor to give you a chance.”

Fu Youwen's face turned green:
"Imperial Censor Zhang, the Ministry of Revenue is truly broke! The imperial treasury is empty."

"Here we go again!"

Zhang Biao interrupted impatiently: "Can't you come up with a new phrase for complaining about being poor? The imperial treasury is empty? I bet it's your private treasury, Fu Youwen, that's not empty."

He suddenly leaned closer to the crack in the door, lowered his voice, and whispered like a devil:
"Minister Fu, what do you think? If a group of low-ranking officials from the capital, who have just angered the Emperor and are now fearless, were to storm into your treasury, wouldn't they find some surprises? Like, your private treasury is even more abundant than the national treasury, hmm?"

Upon hearing this, Fu Youwen trembled, cold sweat poured down his face, and his eyes were filled with despair.

He knew that Zhang Biao, that madman, was capable of such a thing.

But he absolutely could not give them the money.

Without Lao Zhu's permission, he wouldn't have dared to give it.

After all, what Zhang Biao and his group had done was enough to warrant the extermination of their entire families. Now they were just waiting for Old Zhu to wake up and deal with them.

So, in just a moment, the despair in his eyes and the trembling in his body disappeared.

But then he suddenly shouted coldly, "Zhang Biao! Are you trying to rebel?! You caused trouble in Fengtian Hall Square before, and now you're inciting a crowd to cause trouble. Aren't you afraid of the wrath of Heaven?!"

"Ha, Vice Minister Fu is getting tough now!"

Zhang Biao laughed, a truly chilling laugh:
"To be honest, if you don't stand up for yourself, I don't know how this show is going to go on! In that case, let's do an on-site audit!"

With that, he turned directly to Shen Lang and said, "Accountant Shen! Calculate it for me! I want to see how long Vice Minister Fu can keep up this act!"

"Zhang Biao! How dare you be so insolent! Who do you think you are, to interfere in the affairs of my Ministry of Revenue?!"

"Hahaha!"

Zhang Biao suddenly threw his head back and laughed, then turned his gaze to Fu Youwen and clapped his hands, saying, "Good! Well asked!"

After saying that, he stomped on the pig's skull and declared emphatically:
"I am a fourth-rank official, the Left Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, ordered to supervise the Ministry of Revenue's finances and grain, and have the power to submit special reports. Whatever the Censorate can handle, I can handle; whatever the Censorate can't handle, I can also handle. You ask me what I am?"

"I'm telling you right now, it's a special privilege of the emperor: execute first, report later! You disagree?"

"Let's curse the Emperor together!"

Boom!

Fu Youwen was struck dumb.

……

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(End of this chapter)