Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 16 But don't forget how Yue Fei died!

After being summoned to the palace, Duke Zhang Weixian of Yingguo claimed to be ill.

He did not attend court or receive guests, but instead locked himself in the study deep within the mansion. For the first time in decades, the gates of the Duke of England's mansion were tightly shut to the endless stream of dukes, marquises, and earls.

However, a tightly closed door cannot contain the storm raging throughout the city.

A shocking piece of news, like a sudden chill in spring, swept through the pavilions and towers of all the noble residences in the capital within just two days.

—His Majesty has secretly decreed that Duke Zhang Weixian of England be given overall command of the reorganization of the Beijing Garrison, granting him the authority to execute first and report later!
When the news arrived, the entire aristocratic class was in an uproar.

At first, it was disbelief, then astonishment, and finally, uncontrollable anger.

Who is Zhang Weixian?
They were the leaders of this group of founding nobles, the spokespeople for their interests, and their last vestige of dignity and support in a court where the power of civil officials was growing ever stronger.

Send him to reorganize the Beijing Garrison?
What's the difference between this and letting a butcher cut your own flesh?
What is the Beijing Garrison?
It was the solid livelihood of each of their families, the rice bowl for the hundreds of hungry mouths in their mansions, and the last piece of lucrative property that these "military nobles" who had lost their military power could touch!
To attack the Beijing Garrison is to attack their very lifeline!
For a time, a long line of magnificent carriages stretched from the gate of the Duke of England's mansion all the way to the street corner, but none of the owners in the carriages were able to step through the vermilion gate.

The visiting cards they sent through their stewards all disappeared without a trace.

Zhang Weixian, the old Duke who once valued unity and solidarity, turned away all his kind for the first time.

This silence is more terrifying than any words.

Finally, someone couldn't wait any longer.

Duke Zhu Chunchen of Chengguo stepped down from his carriage in front of the Duke of Yingguo's mansion.

He didn't have his servants announce his arrival, but instead walked straight to the gate and shouted in a deep voice at the tightly closed door, "Open the door! Tell Zhang Weixian that if he still considers me his brother of decades, he should come out and see me in person!"

The servants inside the mansion dared not delay and rushed inside.

A moment later, the heavy door slowly opened with a long creak.

Zhang Weixian stood behind the door himself.

He was still wearing that dark blue plain robe, and seemed to have aged ten years in just a few days.

His eyes were sunken, and the white hair at his temples stood out starkly in the winter wind.

He looked at Zhu Chunchen outside the door, and the familiar yet angry faces behind him as they poked their heads out of their respective carriages.

His eyes were as calm as an ancient well, without the slightest ripple.

"Come in and talk," he said calmly, stepping aside to let him pass.

……

The banquet was held in the flower hall of the British Duke's residence.

The hall was warm and cozy, with fine silver charcoal burning inside.

The table was set with eight cold and eight hot dishes, all from the most famous restaurant in the capital, "Yuchunlou".

However, the warmth and luxury of the room could not dispel the almost tangible coldness and antagonism in the air.

Only two people were sitting in the flower hall.

Zhang Weixian and Zhu Chunchen.

Their eyes met, and they remained silent.

Behind them stood two personal servants, each breathing very softly.

After a long while, Zhu Chunchen picked up his wine cup and drank it all in one gulp.

He slammed the valuable white porcelain wine cup with nine dragons on the rosewood table, making a crisp yet jarring sound.

“Brother Zhang,” he spoke, his voice hoarse, as if he was trying his best to suppress something, “the rumors are going crazy outside. I don’t believe it. I came here today to hear you say with your own ears that those are all rumors.”

Zhang Weixian did not move.

He simply raised his eyelids and looked at his old friend of nearly fifty years, at the complex expression in his eyes that was a mixture of anticipation, anger, and the last glimmer of hope.

He slowly poured himself a glass of wine.

“Chunchen,” his voice was eerily calm, “is not a rumor.”

"boom!"

Zhu Chunchen felt as if a thunderclap had exploded in his mind.

The last glimmer of hope was shattered by those words.

His face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, his chest heaved violently, and his hand pointing at Zhang Weixian trembled violently with rage.

"You...you're insane?!" He practically spat out those words through clenched teeth.

"Zhang Weixian! Do you know what you're doing?!"

He suddenly stood up and paced back and forth in the hall like an enraged lion trapped in a cage.

"Reorganize the Capital Garrison? His Majesty is young and naive, but are you going to be confused along with him? What kind of place is the Capital Garrison? It is the foundation upon which we nobles live and work! It is the ancestral law of our Great Ming Dynasty for over two hundred years!"

His voice grew louder and more excited.

"Without the Beijing Garrison, how are we supposed to support hundreds of people in our household? Where are our children and nephews supposed to find a way to make a living? Where will we put our faces?!" He stopped and turned around, staring intently at Zhang Weixian, his eyes bloodshot.

"You're digging up all our ancestral graves! You're cutting off all our means of survival!"

Zhang Weixian listened quietly.

He neither argued nor got angry. He simply picked up his glass and took a small sip. The rich wine slid down his throat, but he felt no warmth, only bitterness.

Only when Zhu Chunchen's roar gradually subsided, leaving only heavy breathing, did he slowly put down his wine cup.

"Live?"

He raised his head, and for the first time, a cold, sharp glint flashed in his usually calm eyes.

"Chunchen, tell me, which way is the way out?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a bucket of ice water poured over Zhu Chunchen's anger.

"Is it possible for your precious nephew to receive a salary for a guard without working, and to use the embezzled military rations to open three of the largest rice shops in the suburbs of Beijing? Is this the only way out?"

"Is it better to let your good-for-nothing grandson sell those rusty muskets from the armory as new to the border troops in Jizhou and profit from them? Is that the only way out?"

"Or perhaps, which of our families, or any of you here, hasn't carved out hundreds or thousands of acres of land from the Beijing Garrison's military farmland and turned it into your own private property? Is this a way to survive?"

Every word Zhang Weixian uttered was like a heavy hammer blow, striking Zhu Chunchen's heart.

Zhu Chunchen's face turned from red to white, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Because everything Zhang Weixian said was true.

“What are we supporting?” Zhang Weixian’s voice was filled with deep weariness and sorrow. “A bunch of spoiled brats who can’t even hold a knife properly, a bunch of rogue soldiers who only know how to embezzle salaries and occupy military land, a force of 120,000 registered soldiers, but in reality, less than 10,000 are capable of fighting…useless!”

He slowly stood up, walked to the window, opened it, and let the cold wind blow against his pale hair.

"I ask you, Chunchen. If the Jurchen cavalry were to actually reach the gates of Beijing, what could the Beijing garrison, with its army like this, possibly do?"

"Is it the ability to fight on the battlefield, or the ability to protect the people and safeguard the land?"

He turned around abruptly, his gaze sharp as lightning, piercing straight at Zhu Chunchen.

"At that time, will the Jurchens' swords circle around your neck just because you are the Duke of Cheng?!"

"Do you think they'll take pity on you and not rob your property or humiliate your wife and daughters just because you have hundreds of people living in your household?!"

"If the country falls, where will our families find refuge?!"

"Tell me, is clinging to this rotten piece of wood a path to survival or a path to death?!"

A barrage of questions bombarded Zhu Chunchen, forcing him to retreat step by step, his face ashen.

He wanted to argue, but found himself speechless.

Because he knew Zhang Weixian was right.

but,

Knowing is one thing, and being rational is another, but the benefits are very real.

To ask him to give up the wealth and glory that are within his grasp?

He can't do it!

"Good...good...good Zhang Weixian!" Zhu Chunchen laughed bitterly, his eyes filled with resentment and disappointment.

"You talk a good game! You're trying to be a saint, a loyal minister, or Yue Fei of the Ming Dynasty!"

"But don't forget how Yue Fei died!"

"You think you can do whatever you want just because you've latched onto His Majesty's coattails? Let me tell you, it's not that easy! My Great Ming Dynasty doesn't belong to Zhu Youjian alone! This empire was won by us, the descendants of the founding heroes, with the blood of our ancestors!"

He pointed at Zhang Weixian and said, word by word, "If you want to dig up our ancestral graves, we'll cut off your path first!"

"From this day forward, our decades-long brotherhood is severed!"

"You go your way, I'll go mine. I want to see if your newly sharpened steel blade is harder, or if our two-hundred-year-old rotten wood has deeper roots!"

After saying that, he suddenly swept all the wine pots and dishes on the table to the ground.

"Bang! Clang!"

The sound of porcelain shattering was crisp and resolute.

Zhu Chunchen didn't look at Zhang Weixian again and left in a huff.

Zhang Weixian stood there, looking at the mess on the ground, and didn't move for a long time.

His expression was neither sad nor happy.

But the hands that were resting on the window frame were trembling slightly.

(End of this chapter)