The Great Ming Demon Pill: Your Majesty, please address me as the Crown Prince!

The hall was completely silent.

Yang Rong, Huang Huai, Hu Guang, Yang Shiqi and others looked at each other in bewilderment.

Has this Prince of Jiyang gone mad?

Zhang Fu, Zhu Yong, and the other nobles' eyelids twitched.

Damn it.

This Prince of Jiyang is too arrogant.

Zhu Yi, Li Heng, Zheng Yu, and their brothers looked at each other with admiration.

That's awesome, my brother!

Zhu Gaoxu's lips twitched slightly.

The old man often said he was stubborn and arrogant.

Good heavens, compared to his own son, he's nothing!

Zhu Gaochi's fat face twitched, and his gaze subconsciously turned to Zhu Zhanji.

Zhu Zhanji was so angry that his face turned black.

Is he a treacherous minister?

Is it possible to frame someone like this?

Wu Changjiang wasn't that angry.

His task has been completed.

As a pure-blooded Confucian scholar, the eldest grandson of the emperor, Zhu Zhanji, was clearly the future emperor of the Ming Dynasty in his mind.

In his view, Zhu Zhanjun is now in a precarious situation and has no chance of turning the tables.

He's already indifferent to being scolded a couple of times.

Zhu Di raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

The hall remained quiet for a while.

Zhu Zhanji couldn't help but say.

"Third brother, are you calling me a treacherous minister?"

"How am I a treacherous official?"

"Am I wrong to advise you to return to the right path and not to think about going astray?"

Zhu Zhanjun said calmly.

"May I ask you, elder brother, was it wrong of me to use bran to provide relief to the disaster victims?"

Zhu Zhanji looked at Zhu Zhanjun with an expression as if he were looking at a fool.

"Of course it's wrong."

"That's absolutely wrong."

Zhu Zhanjun nodded, looked directly at Zhu Zhanji, and said loudly, "Since you think it was a big mistake for me to use bran to provide disaster relief, then you must have a good plan in mind to ensure that tens of thousands of disaster victims have enough to eat?"

He stepped forward, aggressively.

"Now there are more than 80,000 disaster victims outside the city, and their daily food consumption is enormous."

"The imperial granaries are running low on grain."

"Brother, you are well-versed in classics and history and have a reputation for wisdom. Please do not hesitate to offer your advice and come up with a practical and feasible method that can save tens of thousands of disaster victims from their plight."

All eyes in the hall instantly focused on Zhu Zhanji.

Zhu Zhanji was taken aback by the question, and a hint of panic flashed across his face.

Where did he even think about specific disaster relief strategies?

If even the entire court of officials couldn't solve it, how could he possibly do it?

Zhu Zhanji's mind went completely blank.

"This...this..."

"Disaster relief... naturally involves opening granaries and distributing grain; this is the law of the imperial court."

"As for... as for the food shortage, we can... we can order wealthy households in the capital to donate, and persuade officials and gentry to contribute grain so that we can get through this difficult time together."

"If...if that doesn't work, we could...we could reduce palace spending and use the saved money for disaster relief..."

His voice grew softer and softer as he spoke, and he himself felt that his words were empty and powerless.

Soliciting donations?

It's easier said than done, and it's just a drop in the ocean.

Reduce palace expenses?

How much can be saved?

For tens of thousands of hungry mouths, this is tantamount to trying to stop the boiling water by adding more boiling water.

Zhu Zhanjun listened quietly and said coldly.

"What my brother said is utter nonsense."

"Where is the grain right now?"

"When will the supplies reach the disaster victims?"

How much food do 80,000 people need each day?

"Has elder brother considered this?"

How many days does it take to solicit donations?

"How much grain can we get?"

"With the palace cutting back on spending, how many days can the saved grain last?"

A barrage of questions struck Zhu Zhanji like a hammer blow, leaving him speechless and his face alternating between red and white.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't answer a single word. He could only stand there awkwardly, enduring the complicated gazes from all around him.

Zhu Zhanji's forehead gradually broke out in a cold sweat.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of anger and embarrassment for no apparent reason, and immediately shouted loudly.

"No matter what, what you did was wrong."

Zhu Zhanjun scoffed and said disdainfully.

"My elder brother keeps talking about benevolence and morality, yet he accuses me of insulting the people by using bran."

"Then I'd like to ask you, brother, have you ever personally been to the disaster relief site in the west of the city? Have you ever seen with your own eyes what those disaster victims look like now?"

Upon hearing this, Zhu Zhanji turned pale and stammered, unable to utter a word.

Zhu Zhanjun said coldly.

"They fled from Fengyang and Huai'an, a journey of thousands of miles, where corpses of the starved littered the land!"

"To survive, they gnawed on tree bark, chewed on grass roots, and even exchanged their own children to eat."

"When they arrived outside Nanjing, they were ragged, emaciated, and barely recognizable as human!"

"I transferred 30,000 strings of cash from Yuxue Hall. If I use it all to buy rice, I can only get a little over 20,000 shi."

"How many days can 20,000 shi of rice last for the more than 80,000 disaster victims, whose numbers are still rising? Ten days? Half a month?"

"But 30,000 strings of cash can buy 100,000 shi of bran!"

"Although bran is livestock feed, it can fill their stomachs!"

"Enough to sustain 100,000 disaster victims for two months!"

"In these two months, tens of thousands of lives can be saved!"

"And my method has another advantage."

"Those who aren't truly desperate but are just looking to take advantage and freeload will leave cursing and swearing when they see that it's just chaff!"

"Only those disaster victims who truly need relief will receive that bowl of life-saving food!"

"Only things that are worthless can truly reach those who need them."

"Disaster victims, only by surviving can they be considered human."

Upon hearing this, the assembled officials in the hall were immediately taken aback.

Many people frowned, carefully pondering Zhu Zhanjun's words.

Yang Rong, Huang Huai, Hu Guang, and other cabinet scholars looked as if they had just realized what was happening.

He immediately understood Zhu Zhanjun's intention in using bran for disaster relief.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Gaoxu's eyes lit up.

There was another trick up his sleeve! How come he didn't think of that?

Zhu Gaochi wiped the sweat from his forehead, his heart sinking lower and lower.

Zhu Gaosui's expression was complex.

He neither wanted to see the Crown Prince gain too much power, nor did he want to see the Prince of Han gain favor.

He never expected that his third nephew would be even more of a prodigy than he had imagined!

Zhu Di nodded slightly, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration.

These few words from Zhu Zhanjun are enough to show that his grandson had a sufficient understanding of human nature, and could be described as having perfect insight.

Only those who have truly gone to the countryside and experienced the lives of ordinary people can have such insightful views.

Zhu Zhanjun took a step closer, almost face to face with Zhu Zhanji.

"May I ask, elder brother?"

"You sit high above, spouting righteousness, yet have you ever offered a single copper coin or a grain of rice to help those disaster victims?"

"Besides spouting empty rhetoric about 'benevolence' and 'propriety,' and encouraging pedantic scholars like Wu Changjiang to cause trouble at the soup kitchen, what else have you done?"

"What right do you have to lecture me?"

"The nearly 100,000 disaster victims who flooded into Nanjing from the two capitals and thirteen provinces of the Ming Dynasty were on my shoulders."

"The suffering of the disaster victims, the reputation of the royal family—these are the key words!"

"It's not your place to say that!"