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

Chapter 35 He only believed in himself, and only in the knife in his hand!

the next morning,

In the carriage where Zhu Youjian sat, besides him, only Duke Zhang Weixian of England was present.

The old duke, with his white hair and beard, sat upright, looking at the receding fields and trees outside the window with a complex expression, and also at the emperor beside him who was too young.

Ever since being entrusted with important responsibilities by the new emperor, Zhang Weixian felt that his understanding of the world over the past few decades was being ruthlessly shattered by the young emperor beside him, and then pieced back together in a way that was completely unfamiliar to him, yet he had to admit was efficient and ruthless.

He had assumed that the emperor's handling of the Shanxi merchants would follow the precedent set by previous emperors: first, the Censorate would submit a memorial, then the three judicial departments would jointly try the case. After a long period of wrangling, negotiation, and compromise, the final outcome would be the execution of a few heinous criminals, along with a paltry fine—a mere warning to others.
That's fine.

But what about this new monarch?
He bypassed the entire civil service system of the outer court!
He did not consult the cabinet, did not inform the six ministries, and did not even let the censors of the Censorate hear a word of it.

He was like a master chess player who reached behind the chessboard and used his own power to overturn the entire game.

This is no longer just "improper"; it is using the most direct violence of imperial power to challenge the delicate political balance that has existed between the civil service and the imperial power for the past century.

Zhang Weixian had lived a long life and had seen emperors like Wanli's negligence, Taichang's haste, and Tianqi's folly, but he had never seen anyone like Zhu Youjian.

This young emperor possessed a terrifying clarity.

From the very beginning, he seemed to harbor a deep-seated distrust of the grand slogans in the court, and of the so-called "pure stream" and "outspoken men."

He only believed in himself and the knife in his hand!

Today, they are going to see if the knife he personally sharpened is fast enough and sharp enough.

The carriage stopped in front of a heavily guarded camp on the outskirts of Beijing.

This place was originally an abandoned horse farm, overgrown with weeds and littered with rocks.

But now, it has been completely transformed.

There were no tall and sturdy camp walls, only sharpened wooden stakes and trenches, which enclosed a huge camp area spanning several miles.

There were no fancy buildings in the camp, only rows of neat tents, as if measured with a ruler, straight and orderly!
In the center of the camp was a huge training ground that had been rammed solidly, and the yellow earth was spotless.

The entire camp exuded an aura of simplicity and solemnity that was completely different from any other army of the Ming Dynasty.

When Zhu Youjian stepped off the carriage accompanied by Zhou Quan and Zhang Weixian, the first thing he saw was this drill ground.

On the drill ground, more than two thousand soldiers are training.

"drink!"

"what!"

The shouts of two thousand people merged into one, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, echoing through the valley.

A general stood at the very front of the column, shouting commands at the top of his lungs. His voice was completely hoarse, and the veins on his neck were bulging from the effort, but he seemed oblivious, still using all his strength to slam every word into the soldiers in front of him.

It was Sun Yingyuan, a lieutenant general in the new army.

"To the left!"

"Shh!"

The movements of thousands of people were perfectly synchronized, as if done by a single person. The sound of their bodies turning and their heels hitting the ground was only one.

That voice lacked the perfunctory and lazy air of seasoned veterans of the Beijing Garrison; it possessed only a heart-pounding vitality restrained by strict discipline.

The sight before him made even the seasoned veteran Zhang Weixian gasp in astonishment.

He was also a soldier, so he could naturally see how formidable this army was.

This was not the traditional Ming army. Both Qi Jiguang's army and the Guan Ning cavalry were heavily influenced by the personal characteristics of their generals, and were more like an expanded troop of personal guards.

But the army before them seemed like a group of faceless people.

Their movements were all perfectly synchronized, and their eyes held no personal emotion, only absolute obedience to commands.

This extreme discipline made these thousands of people seem like a single entity, a war behemoth made of steel and flesh.

He suddenly understood.

The emperor probably trained this new army not just to fight the Jurchens in Liaodong from the very beginning.

It was also a sharp sword hanging over the heads of all the arrogant soldiers, fierce generals, and lawless officials of the Ming Dynasty.

The training session has finally come to an end.

Sun Yingyuan ordered a rest, and the soldiers instantly transformed from tense war machines back into exhausted individuals.

Many of them plopped down on the ground, panting heavily, sweat dripping from their young, dark faces into the yellow earth beneath their feet.

But no one whispered or laughed; the entire playground was eerily quiet, save for heavy breathing. "Let's go, Duke of England," Zhu Youjian said calmly, then led the way down the slope.

Zhu Youjian's appearance was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake.

Sun Yingyuan was the first to spot him. He was stunned for a moment, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

But when he saw the distinctive Duke of England beside the newcomer, he trembled, rushed over, and five steps away from Zhu Youjian, he knelt on one knee with a thud and roared at the top of his lungs:

"This humble general, Sun Yingyuan, pays his respects to Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty!"

His roar was like a signal.

The thousands of soldiers who had been slumped on the ground on the parade ground sprang up as if their buttocks had been scalded by fire, and then knelt down in unison, their movements so synchronized that it seemed as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times.

"Long live my emperor! Long live! Long live!"

The shouts of thousands of people merged into a torrent of sound, echoing across the empty playground and making people's eardrums buzz.

The voice was filled with heartfelt admiration.

Because they all knew that it was this young emperor who had transformed them from starving refugees into soldiers who could now eat their fill, receive military pay, and live with dignity.

It was this emperor who provided them with the best food, the best weapons, and the best training.

For these destitute people, the emperor was their heaven, their second parents!

Zhu Youjian's face was expressionless. He calmly raised his hand and said, "Get up, all of you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

Another deafening roar erupted.

Zhu Youjian's gaze fell on Sun Yingyuan, who was kneeling at the front.

"General Sun." He spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching Sun Yingyuan's ears.

"Your subordinate is here!" Sun Yingyuan replied loudly without daring to raise his head.

"How is the training of my new army going?"

The question was asked in a very casual way, like a casual chat.

Sun Yingyuan took a deep breath, straightened his back, and said in a deep voice, "Your Majesty! The soldiers are fighting bravely and training diligently!"

He said this with great confidence, even a hint of arrogance.

Zhang Weixian, who was standing to the side, nodded secretly. Sun Yingyuan was indeed a talented general, neither arrogant nor humble, and had both courage and insight.

However, Sun Yingyuan's tone shifted, his voice carrying a barely suppressed longing: "But..."

"A weapon that fights without bloodshed is ultimately a weapon without edge. A general who doesn't lead his troops into battle is ultimately just talking about war on paper."

He suddenly raised his head, and a raging flame burned in his bloodshot eyes, which were swollen from being exposed to the scorching sun for a long time.

"Your Majesty! The soldiers are all eager to fight! They long to go into battle and kill the enemy, to exchange the heads of the Jurchens for fame and glory, and to serve Your Majesty with loyalty! Please issue an edict, Your Majesty, give this humble general a chance, give this new army a chance!"

These words were spoken with unwavering resolve and passionate fervor.

On the parade ground, many soldiers, upon hearing the words "go to battle and kill the enemy," involuntarily straightened their chests, clenched their fists, and their eyes were filled with longing for war and glory.

This is a spirit of high morale and striving for progress.

Zhang Weixian was also deeply moved, as if he had become decades younger.

Zhu Youjian's reaction surprised everyone.

He simply stared at Sun Yingyuan silently, his gaze as deep as an ancient well, as if trying to suck in Sun Yingyuan's soul.

After a long while, Zhu Youjian finally spoke slowly. His voice was like icicles frozen under the eaves in winter, cold, hard, and sharp.

"Soon, you will have your chance to see blood."

Upon hearing this, Sun Yingyuan's eyes blazed with ecstatic joy.

But Zhu Youjian's next words were like a bucket of ice water poured over his head and down to his feet.

"But my first order is not for you to kill the Jurchens."

Zhu Youjian spoke very slowly.
"Instead, they went to kill... the border troops of the Ming Dynasty."

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(End of this chapter)