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

Chapter 198 We, who do not understand the emperor's torment, all thought that killing each other was as unpredictable as the changing winds and clouds.

Outside Suzhou city, Tiger Hill.

It was March, and spring had transformed the Jiangnan region into a flowing ink painting. The trees on the mountains sprouted their tenderest green buds, and thousands of cliffs vied for attention, while countless streams flowed through the valleys. The scenery was poetic, picturesque, and dreamlike.

But this dreamlike scene has been disrupted today by a surge of righteous energy.

The mountain breeze blows from the direction of Taihu Lake, sweeping over the layered eaves and the ancient Sword Pool. It should be crisp and moist. But today, the wind carries a faint, almost imperceptible, restlessness, like countless young, anxious hearts breathing together.

Zhang Pu and Zhang Cai, leaders of the Fushe Society, held a grand "Kuangshi Literary Gathering" here.

"Kuangshi" means to rectify current malpractices.

What a prestigious title, what a grand ambition!

Many responded.

Hundreds of young scholars from various prefectures in Jiangnan, like sharks smelling blood, flocked to the site, surrounding the legendary Thousand-Man Stone where the legendary monk Sheng Gong preached and the stubborn rock nodded in agreement.

They were dressed in blue and white robes and wore square headscarves. Each of them had a proud sense of responsibility for the world and a resentment of being unappreciated. These two expressions intertwined and transformed into a passionate spirit that could be ignited at any moment for righteousness.

At the climax of the literary gathering, Zhang Pu ascended the Thousand-Man Stone.

He was young, with a thin face, but his eyes were surprisingly bright. Standing on that huge boulder, his clothes fluttered in the mountain wind, as if he had transformed into the eloquent and eloquent Master Sheng from thousands of years ago.

Zhang Pu didn't need a prepared speech, because those words had already been brewing in his mind a thousand times over, like volcanic lava about to erupt.

"Gentlemen!"

His voice was clear and penetrating, instantly drowning out all the whispers.

"Why do we scholars study the classics? To establish a moral compass for Heaven and Earth, to secure a destiny for the people, to continue the lost learning of the past sages, and to usher in an era of peace for all generations!"

The opening remarks were grand and righteous, drawing applause from the crowd.

Zhang Pu took a deep breath, his tone suddenly turning to grief and indignation, like a cuckoo crying blood.

"Indeed! Since the current emperor ascended the throne, in just over a year, his actions have been perverse, abandoning literature for military might, and going against the will of Heaven! How can we scholars, standing between Heaven and Earth, sit idly by and watch the orthodox tradition crumble and the country collapse!"

He extended three fingers, like three sharp swords pointing towards the Forbidden City.

"His first crime is 'disrupting the Way'! Since Emperor Taizu Gao established the imperial examination system, for three hundred years, the palace examination has been the only legitimate path for us scholars to leap over the dragon gate! Yet the current emperor has been slow to open a new examination, cutting off our path to advancement! Instead, he has established the so-called 'Academy of Natural Sciences' in the capital, recruiting craftsmen and promoting strange and ingenious skills! This is using techniques to disrupt the Way and using the foundation of a decadent dynasty! If this continues, the learning of sages will be lost, and the way of the gentleman will not be manifest!"

These words struck precisely at the most painful spot in the hearts of all the scholars present.

They studied diligently for ten years, enduring hardships and studying with great care, all for the sake of passing the imperial examinations and bringing glory to their families. The emperor's actions were tantamount to cutting off their lifeline.

The crowd began to stir, and angry murmurs rose up like a tidal wave.

This was exactly the effect Zhang Pu wanted. He waved his arm and his voice became even more impassioned.

"His second crime is 'moral depravity'! A ruler should practice benevolent governance and embrace the world. However, the current emperor is cruel and tyrannical, treating human life as worthless! He instigates large-scale purges without cause, easily executing members of the imperial family and princes, and slaughtering important officials of the court! The case of the Prince of Qin in Shaanxi, the former Grand Secretary Zhou Yanru, and even the recently reported case of Wang Qia, the Minister of War... each and every one of these cases has resulted in rivers of blood! How is such behavior any different from that of Jie and Zhou? It violates the way of a benevolent ruler and is therefore moral depravity!"

"His crime is threefold, namely, 'rebellion against the ancestors'!" Zhang Pu's voice was already choked with sobs, filled with infectious emotion. "Our dynasty's ancestral laws established a system of rest and recuperation for the people, allowing them to accumulate wealth. Yet the current emperor has established the so-called 'Royal General Chamber of Commerce,' using his imperial authority to engage in commercial activities, monopolizing maritime trade, and competing with merchants from all over the world for profits! Even worse, he has forcibly implemented the 'unified tax payment by officials and gentry,' a move that is ostensibly fair but in reality extortion! It is like draining the pond to catch all the fish, destroying the ancestral system of our Great Ming Dynasty that has lasted for three hundred years! This is rebellion against the ancestors!"

The three charges, each one piercing to the heart, directly targeted the lifeblood and reputation of the Jiangnan literati.

The hundreds of young scholars below the stage, already restless due to the uncertainty of the imperial examinations, were now like dry tinder thrown into a fire, instantly igniting a raging inferno.

"Disorderly conduct! Morally defied! Rebellious against our ancestors!"

"Tyrant! This is the behavior of a tyrant!"

"How can we, who have studied the classics, coexist with such a ruler?!"

The indignation spread like a plague. Immediately, a young scholar, his face flushed, drew a dagger from his robes, cut his finger, and used his blood to write several large characters on his white shirt—

"Purge the court of corrupt officials and honor Confucius and Mencius!"

These words are like a magical spell.

Everyone went crazy.

They shouted and roared as if they were martyrs bearing the fate of the entire world, preparing to go to a sacred war.

In an inconspicuous corner of the literary gathering, several ordinary-looking but shrewd-eyed men, who looked like managers of a business, were quietly taking out stacks of pre-printed booklets from their cloth bags amidst the chaos.

On the cover of the booklet, five large, blood-red characters were prominently printed: "Tiger Hill's Weeping Blood Memorial".

Like shadows in the night, they quietly slipped these pamphlets into the hands of the most passionate scholars, or simply scattered them among the crowd.

The paper fluttered in the mountain breeze like white butterflies.

But these butterflies, their wings are tainted with a spark that could start a prairie fire and a deadly poison.

Overnight, this eloquent and beautifully written proclamation, which portrayed the emperor as a tyrant for all time, spread throughout the Jiangnan region along with these scattered scholars.

The wind in Jiangnan has begun to change its flavor.

……

Shaoxing, night.

The river that flows through the city resembles a silent black python in the night.

The restaurants and teahouses along the shore had long since closed, with only a few lanterns hanging on the bow of the boat casting swaying shadows on the water.

A painted boat is quietly moored in the deepest and most secluded bend of the river.

From the outside, the ship looks no different from an ordinary cruise ship, and even appears somewhat old. But if you lift the heavy curtain, you will find that inside is a world completely opposite to its simple appearance.

Several of the most powerful key figures among the eight major salt merchants of Jiangnan are having a secret meeting here.

There were no songstresses, no fine wine, only a deathly silence.

The news from Tianjin arrived like a death warrant delivered by fast horse, already laid bare before everyone. The heads of the various salt merchants' branch managers there, and the mountains of confiscated wealth, all silently testified to the young emperor's undisguised murderous intent.

Sitting in the main seat was Wang Zonghai.

This once-powerful warlord, whose mere stomp of his foot could shake the price of salt in the Jiangnan region of the Ming Dynasty, now looked ashen-faced and had cloudy eyes, as if he had aged twenty years in an instant.

"It's over."

He spoke, his voice hoarse as if two pieces of sandpaper were rubbing together.

"The Tianjin Wei account books, the witnesses from the branch offices... the secret agents of the Embroidered Uniform Guard have probably already figured out our roots."

He looked around at everyone present, and every face was filled with despair.

"He didn't come to Jiangnan for sightseeing," Wang Zonghai said, emphasizing each word. "He came to collect our corpses, to ransack our homes! We... have no way out!"

"An escape route?" From a corner, a younger salt merchant suddenly sneered, the laughter sounding particularly jarring in the oppressive cabin.
"Old Wang, what other way out do we have? Run? The world is vast, and all land belongs to the king! Run to those desolate overseas lands and become lonely ghosts who can't even pay respects at their ancestral graves? Then leave all the wealth that we've painstakingly accumulated over generations to his Zhu family's son, so he can use it to raise an army and pay salaries, and then use it to deal with our descendants?"

He suddenly stood up, his body trembling slightly with excitement, his eyes flashing with a ferocious, desperate light, like a cornered beast.

"I can not be reconciled!"

He practically roared out those four words.

"Rather than flee like a dog and die far from home, I'd rather die in Jiangnan! Before I die, I'll bite off a piece of his flesh! Even if I go to hell, I'll drag Zhu Youjian down with me!"

These words were like a spark falling into a powder keg.

It instantly ignited the ferocity in everyone's hearts in the cabin.

Yes, who are they? They are salt merchants from Jiangnan! Ruthless characters who built their fortunes by licking the blade, manipulating power, and navigating between the government and private smugglers!
Gamblers have the blood of gamblers flowing in their veins!
“Well said!” Another salt merchant slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups clatter. “We’re going to die anyway, so let’s gamble big! If we win, we’ll still be the masters of Jiangnan! If we lose… we absolutely cannot let him get away with it!”

Despair breeds the most extreme madness.

A consensus was reached at this moment.

"Good." A fierce glint appeared in Wang Zonghai's cloudy eyes. "Since everyone has the guts, then we are not lambs waiting to be slaughtered, but wolves ready to devour us! Tell me, how can we send this young emperor... on his way!"

He spoke the last half of his sentence softly and slowly, as if afraid of disturbing the sleeping river outside the window.

Inside the cabin, the deathly silence was broken.

"Just do it! Assassinate him!" The first to speak was the young salt merchant, his eyes gleaming with malice. "The desperados we employ are willing to kill even government soldiers to rob the salt routes. A hefty reward will surely attract brave men! I refuse to believe that there's no life that money can't buy!"

"Fool!" A middle-aged merchant with a goatee, who looked shrewd and capable, immediately retorted, "That's the worst possible strategy! When the Emperor goes on tour, how heavily guarded are the protectors? The Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Imperial Guards, layer upon layer, impenetrable! Sending a few desperados is just throwing their lives away and will immediately expose us. At that time, before he even checks the accounts, our entire clan will be wiped out!"

The businessman surnamed Ye froze for a moment, but he had to admit that what the other party said was true. Wang Zonghai waved his hand, signaling them to be quiet, and turned his gaze to a scholar who had been silent in the corner. This man was surnamed Huang, and he was a staff member hired by the Wang family at great expense, who was good at coming up with insidious ideas.

"Mr. Huang, what's your opinion?"

Mr. Huang slowly picked up his teacup, gently blew away the foam, and then said, "To kill a ruler, one cannot use a knife, but must use a pen. One must use the voices of the people of the world."

He put down his teacup, his voice low but clear: "Why is the current emperor so unscrupulous? It's simply because he relies on his reputation as the restorer of the dynasty and his claim to be in the right. If we want to take him down, the first step is to destroy his reputation and break his logic!"

"How to destroy it?" someone pressed.

"Using someone else to do the dirty work." A cold smile curled at the corner of Mr. Huang's lips.
"What does Jiangnan have the most of? It's not silk, it's not grain, it's resentful scholars! The emperor has stopped holding the imperial examinations, cutting off their path to success, and that's our best weapon! Zhang Pu of the Fushe Society is holding a literary gathering at Tiger Hill. He's quite famous, but also a hothead."

"We only need to send someone to add fuel to the fire, give him some money, and let him curse even louder and more viciously! We'll nail the emperor's reputation to the grounds of disrespecting Confucianism, being cruel and tyrannical, and competing with the people for profit! We'll make all the scholars in the land think that this Emperor is a modern-day Jie and Zhou!"

Wang Zonghai's eyes lit up: "What a brilliant move! Using scholars to kill without bloodshed! Pushing these self-righteous intellectuals to the front while we hide in the back—brilliant!"

“But that’s not enough!” interjected another slightly overweight salt merchant surnamed Chen, who controlled the salt merchants’ external communications. “No matter how fiercely the scholars criticize, they’re just talking; they can’t hurt the emperor. We need to make him truly feel the pain!”

"It's not just us salt merchants in Jiangnan who are dissatisfied with him! Which of those gentry and noble families who own tens of thousands of acres of fertile land isn't gritting their teeth? Their losses are no less than ours! Furthermore, the 'Royal General Trading Company' has monopolized maritime trade, and those large-scale textile manufacturers and kiln owners who rely on exporting silk and porcelain for their livelihood are now almost starving! The emperor is trying to squeeze all the oil and fat from Jiangnan in one go!"

The merchant surnamed Chen became increasingly agitated as he spoke: "If the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold! Today the emperor is targeting us salt merchants, tomorrow it will be their silk, and the day after tomorrow it will be the land beneath their feet! Let's drag them all onto our ship! Everyone contributes money and effort! Only by uniting as one can we challenge the imperial court!"

"Good!" Wang Zonghai slapped his thigh. "We have public opinion, we have allies... but that's not enough! It's not enough to kill him!"

His gaze swept over the crowd, and his voice suddenly turned extremely gloomy, like a wind coming from hell.

"These things only make the emperor uncomfortable. What we want is his life! We want him to fall into real chaos, a chaos that he himself cannot control! A chaos that... will make the whole of Jiangnan, no, the whole world hate him to the bone!"

The air inside the cabin seemed to freeze; everyone held their breath and stared at Wang Zonghai.

Wang Zonghai slowly stood up, walked to the boat window, looked at the dark river outside, and said slowly and deliberately, "The foundation of Jiangnan lies in agriculture and sericulture. And the foundation of agriculture lies in grain. The people are ignorant, they don't understand the great principles of sages, nor do they understand commercial interests. They only care about one thing—whether their rice jars are full."

He turned around abruptly, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, crazed light.

"Therefore, we must present the emperor with a great gift! A rumor that will ruin his reputation and cause the entire Jiangnan region to turn against him—"

He took a deep breath and uttered those four words in the most vicious tone.

"Change—rice—to—mulberry!"

The moment those four words were uttered, the temperature in the cabin seemed to drop by more than ten degrees, and even the lights seemed to tremble.

"Hiss..." A salt merchant gasped, his teeth chattering. "Old Wang... This... This is too poisonous! If word gets out, people in Jiangnan will starve! It will cause a huge uproar!"

"Poison?" Wang Zonghai let out a cold laugh like an owl, a laugh that sent chills down one's spine. "To deal with a venomous snake, you need a poison even more venomous than it! Doesn't the emperor pride himself on being the ruler of the people? Fine! We'll let him taste what it's like to be despised by the people, to be hated by them so much they wish they could devour his flesh!"

His smile grew increasingly sinister: "As soon as this rumor spreads, grain prices will skyrocket, people will panic, and the people will inevitably rise up in rebellion to protect their livelihoods! At that time, the entire Jiangnan region will be engulfed in flames of war, and there will be uprisings everywhere! The best time for us to strike will be amidst the chaos of war!"

Wang Zonghai sat down again, his gaze becoming profound once more: "The plan is set. But this crucial rumor, coming from the mouths of us merchants, doesn't carry enough weight and is easy to trace back to its source."

He paused, then tapped the table lightly with his fingers.

"It needs someone of sufficient weight and integrity to... add the finishing touch."

……

In the south of Shaoxing city, there is a quiet and secluded villa.

This place is named "Wowen Room," meaning "Thus have I heard." Its owner was Qian Qianyi, the leader of the Donglin Party who fled south from the capital.

In the study, the scent of sandalwood is wafting.

Qian Qianyi is playing chess with Qian Longxi.

The black and white pieces were locked in a fierce battle on the chessboard, but both players seemed somewhat distracted.

After arriving in Jiangnan, they repeatedly postponed their return to the capital for various reasons.

What terrified them most was that the emperor didn't send anyone to urge them, or even ask a single question.

This utter disregard is more chilling than thunderous rage.

Like a hunter watching his prey fall into a trap, he doesn't rush to pull in the net, but simply watches quietly from a distance, appreciating its futile struggle.

They knew they were doomed.

Whether it was the murky and enormous financial dealings with salt and grain merchants, or the thousands or tens of thousands of acres of fertile land under their respective family names that should have been taxed... or even the underhanded dealings they made with local princes when the emperor visited Shaanxi...

Any one of those items would be enough to kill them without a burial place.

When the salt merchants' representative secretly delivered that insane plan and that vicious rumor to my office, Qian Qianyi and Qian Longxi hardly hesitated.

They readily agreed.

Because they have nothing left to lose.

Since death is inevitable, why not stir up the game even more and make the water even muddier before you die?

Perhaps... perhaps there is still a glimmer of hope!
……

The next day.

The first spring poetry gathering organized by Donglin Academy this year is being held on the largest painted boat on Jianhu Lake.

The famous scholars and Confucianists of Jiangnan almost all gathered here.

The presence of Qian Qianyi and Qian Longxi added even more luster to this poetry gathering.

After several rounds of drinks, my poetic inspiration was at its peak.

A seemingly casual voice rang out from the crowd, asking an extremely sensitive question that had nothing to do with romance.

"May I ask, Elder Mu, you are a great Confucian scholar of our time and a pillar of the court. What are your thoughts on the court's policy of 'uniform tax payment' in Jiangnan?"

All eyes immediately turned to Qian Qianyi.

Inside the pleasure boat, there was an instant silence.

Qian Qianyi was holding a wine glass when he heard this. He paused, slowly put down the glass, and his face showed a complex expression of compassion and reluctance.

He stroked his gray beard and sighed deeply.

That sigh was filled with endless worry and vicissitudes.

"Alas... 'collective grain tax,' though originally intended to alleviate the nation's burden, has instead become a competition for profits with farmers, making the burden on the people of Jiangnan much heavier..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the shimmering scenery of West Lake, as if through this beautiful landscape he could see some terrifying future that was about to unfold.

"I'm afraid..."

Qian Qianyi's voice wasn't loud, but it instantly silenced everyone's murmurs. He glanced around, and his worldly-wise eyes revealed not anger, but an almost overflowing worry.

"Consider this, everyone: His Majesty acts unconventionally and decisively. To alleviate the financial difficulties, he first reopened the sea ban, and then established the 'Royal General Trading Company.' His intention is clear—he values ​​commerce, not agriculture!"

"Where does the profit from trade lie? In Jiangnan, it lies in nothing more than silk, tea, and porcelain. And the profit from silk is of paramount importance!"

He paused, as if the words he was about to say carried immense weight, making it difficult for him to speak.

"I have been unable to sleep at night, pondering this repeatedly, fearing... fearing that His Majesty, in order to ensure that the Grand Trading Company has enough silk to sell overseas and reap enormous wealth..."

His voice suddenly lowered, but it struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

"I'm afraid they'll force the people of Jiangnan to completely destroy their rice paddies, which they depend on for a living, and plant mulberry trees instead, in order to increase the profits from silk production..."

He sighed again, his voice filled with unbearable sorrow and compassion.

"...then my land of fish and rice will likely be filled with...starving corpses everywhere!"

As soon as this statement came out, everyone in the audience was shocked!

If the idea of ​​"converting rice paddies to mulberry fields" was previously just a baseless and malicious rumor circulating in the marketplace.

So at this moment, when it is spoken by Qian Qianyi, through a reasonable deduction of the emperor's series of measures such as lifting the sea ban, establishing trading companies, and emphasizing commerce, and finally arriving at this conclusion with a sorrowful attitude of concern for the country and its people—

This rumor is no longer a rumor!
It became a secret imperial plan based on sound real-world logic, almost a foregone conclusion!

(End of this chapter)