Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 118 The First Infamous Poem of All Time: "Behind the Red Gates, Wine and Meat Stem!"
Just as the guests held their breath in anticipation of Jiang Xingzhou composing his poem,

Suddenly, a deafening clamor of gongs and drums was heard outside the Zhao residence.

"Prefect Xue has arrived!"

"Professor Zhou has arrived!"

The gatekeeper's announcements grew louder and louder, startling everyone in the room, who rose to greet him.

"Ouch!"

Zhao Huai hurriedly lifted the hem of his brocade robe and strode to the gate of the Zhao residence to greet them, saying, "It is an honor to have you two esteemed gentlemen grace my humble abode with your presence!"

Magistrate Xue laughed loudly, his voice booming like a bell: "How could I not come to drink a cup of birthday wine on the birthday of Master Zhao?"

He then turned and introduced the group of officials behind him, "Look, Prefect Cui, Registrar Liu, and Commandant Lei have all come with us. Today, we must drink three cups with the old man on his birthday!"

The guests all turned their heads to look, and saw two officials dressed in the peacock-patterned robes of the fourth rank walking hand in hand down the red carpet.

On the left is Prefect Xue Chonghu, with a square face and broad forehead, exuding an imposing presence even without anger;
On the right is Zhou Shanzhang, a scholar with a long, flowing beard, who has the air of a Confucian scholar.

All the guests gasped in surprise.

Almost all the officials in charge of the Jiangzhou Prefecture government were present to celebrate the Zhao family's birthday!
Such a grand display truly gave Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner and the richest man in Jiangzhou, a great deal of face!
Zhao Huai's old face beamed with joy, and he hurriedly instructed the steward, "Quickly! Arrange seats for all the esteemed gentlemen!"

As soon as Prefect Xue and Zhou Yuanjun entered the main hall of the Zhao residence, they saw Jiang Xingzhou standing gracefully before the table, dressed in white, which made all the brocade in the room pale in comparison.

Jiang Xingzhou held a wolf-hair brush in his hand, the fragrance of ink wafting through the air, and was about to compose a poem on the spot to celebrate Zhao Huai's birthday.

Zhou Yuanjun paused slightly, a hint of envy flashing in his eyes. He stared intently at the Xuan paper scroll on the table, then stroked his beard and smiled, "I've certainly come at the right time today."

A calligraphy piece personally written by Jiang Lang is probably three times more precious than the immortal peach.

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly sighed softly, "I just wonder when I will be able to receive a poem from you, my lord?"

His tone was seven parts joking, but three parts genuine.

Zhou Shanchang stared at Jiang Xingzhou's wolf-hair brush, which was still hanging in the air, and suddenly chuckled: "I remember last year on the Double Ninth Festival, a local gentry named Zhang from Taicang County wanted to receive a poem about leaving the county as a family heirloom. However, he offered thousands of acres of fertile land, but still failed to obtain a poem about leaving the county!"

The literary circles of the Great Zhou Dynasty have a long tradition of gifting poems, but the works of ordinary scholars, which are the result of their painstaking efforts, are often criticized as "vulgar songs from the streets and alleys," barely making their way into the local community.

Those pretentious poems that can't even be published outside the county, even if copied a thousand times, are nothing more than a basket of waste paper, and will be forgotten by the world in an instant.

Only those masterpieces that can reach the county level or above—every word like gold, each resounding with power—are copied and circulated throughout the counties before the ink is even dry. Once the poem is completed, it is hoped that it will astound the prefecture.

Such literary works deserve the title "worth a thousand pieces of gold per word" and should be enshrined in the county Confucian temple.

The guests in the hall knew perfectly well that what Jiang Xingzhou had written was by no means an ordinary birthday greeting.
This is absolutely a chapter of the Da Mansion that will bring glory to the Zhao family and be remembered by the world for hundreds or thousands of years!

Jiang Xingzhou paused slightly as he held the pen, and when he looked up, he saw Zhou Yuanjun's expression.

"Definitely! If I have any inspiration in the future, I will definitely send you a poem as a gift!"

Jiang Xingzhou cupped his hands in response, a smile playing on his lips, though he seemed slightly uneasy.

Seeing this, Zhao Huai quickly said, "Lord Zhou, you flatter me! If you wish, I would rather give this poem to Lord Zhou."

"Ah—! You can't force it, you can't force it."

Zhou Yuanjun waved his hands repeatedly, a glint of light flashing in his eyes, "This poem should be like the bright moon; who it shines upon is up to fate!"

After saying that, he glanced meaningfully at the gold letter on the table.

"I am truly ashamed! Even so, I can only accept your kind offer with a smile!"

Zhao Huai clapped his hands and laughed triumphantly, his voice shaking the roof tiles.

The red silk burial robe trembled with laughter, and the jade belt buckle at the waist made a crisp sound.

To receive a poem from Jiang Xingzhou—such treatment is unique in Jiangzhou Prefecture, except for the eldest daughter of the Xue family of the Duke of Xue, and only he, the historian of the Grand Canal, has received it.

"Please wait a moment, gentlemen. I already have a draft of this poem in mind, and it will be finished soon!"

Jiang Xingzhou chuckled softly, his wide sleeves drooping, the wolf-hair brush at his fingertips reflecting a golden luster in the candlelight.

Before he finished speaking, his brush had already touched the Chengxintang paper scroll.

Writing with lightning speed!

[A poem presented to Zhao Huai, the Transport Commissioner of Jiangzhou, at a banquet held at the Zhu family's gate!]
The moment the brush moved like a dragon and a snake, all the candles in the room trembled.

Zhao Huai's cloudy old eyes suddenly flashed with a sharp light, and his withered fingers gripped the armrest of the grand master's chair tightly—

Great topic!
This is clearly an attempt to inscribe the Zhao family's reputation, stroke by stroke, into the cultural heritage of Jiangzhou's top aristocratic families!
"Excellent! What a fine banquet for the wealthy!"

Zhao Huai stroked his beard, his hand trembling slightly, and praised him highly.

The phrase "vermilion gate" is a compliment to the Zhao family mansion, signifying a highly noble and wealthy household. Therefore, the Zhao family's birthday banquet could naturally be called a "vermilion gate banquet." The title is so aptly chosen.

The old man laughed even more heartily.

Just by looking at the title, one can tell that this poem from Dafu is a respectable piece that can be passed down for ten generations!

"[In Jiangzhou there was a commoner who, as he grew older, became increasingly clumsy.]"

How foolish it is to dedicate oneself to this cause! I secretly compare myself to Ji and Qi.

They have fallen into poverty, yet they have remained faithful to each other even in old age.

When the coffin is closed, that's the end of it; but this ambition will always remain.

He worries about the common people all year round, and sighs with burning sorrow in his heart.

They mocked their classmate, Old Man, and sang loudly and passionately.

Jiang Xingzhou's writing flowed like clouds and water; after finishing the opening, he slowly put down his pen.

The guests craned their necks, trying to decipher the meaning of the poem.

They all showed expressions of shock.

Although Jiang Xingzhou wrote a poem to celebrate his birthday, the poem did not begin with a birthday greeting.

Instead, it narrates an event in the tone of an old man in plain clothes, using a long-winded and tedious style—

In Jiangzhou, there lived an old man in plain clothes. He was old, clumsy, and stubborn, yet he considered himself a sage and still worried about the country and its people.

Even with white hair, he will still be busy, and even when the coffin is about to be closed, as long as he has breathed his last, his life's ambition will never change.

This old man worries about the hardships of the people all year round.

His peers often ridiculed him, but he only became more passionate and outspoken.

Who is this poem about?

Whispers rippled through the room.

An official in a blue robe suddenly clapped his hands: "Brilliant! This 'old man in plain clothes' must be Lord Zhao without a doubt!"

He stroked his beard and shook his head, "Zhao Gong rose from humble beginnings and still works day and night to manage the grain transport affairs. Isn't this exactly what it means to 'endure hardship even in old age'?"

"Here you go!"

The scholar sitting next to him immediately understood and raised his voice three octaves, “‘Worrying about the common people all year round’—isn’t this exactly what it means that Lord Zhao cares about the people so much that he even thinks about their suffering at his birthday banquet?”

The room was filled with echoes of agreement.

Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner, squinted his eyes and couldn't help but admire him inwardly.

"A good start!"

Jiang Xingzhou is clearly writing about how he rose from humble beginnings to achieve great things, and how he remained ambitious and concerned about the country and its people even in his old age!
—Although it is very different from his real image!
But flattering and sycophantic poems and essays have never always been written this way.
To portray a canal transport commissioner as honest, upright, and concerned for the country and its people, and to ensure that his superiors see this, he must write it this way!

Jiang Xingzhou is indeed well-versed in the ways of officialdom in the imperial court!
"[It's not that I lack ambition for rivers and seas, but I freely enjoy the passing of time.]"

Born under the rule of emperors Yao and Shun, I cannot bear to part forever.

With the halls of state now complete, how could the buildings be lacking?

Sunflowers turn towards the sun; their nature is difficult to change.

Jiang Xingzhou dipped his wolf-hair brush in gold ink and spread out a second world on the snow-wave paper.

"it is good!"

"These sentences are so well written!"

Immediately, the hall erupted in cheers.

The official in the blue robe who had previously interpreted the poem was so excited that his official hat nearly knocked over the jade pot on the table: "Gentlemen, please take a look!"
This sentence reveals that Lord Zhao, the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner, was not without thoughts of retiring to the rivers and lakes, intending to waste the rest of his life in idleness!

His Adam's apple bobbed with excitement, "But Lord Zhao has encountered a wise ruler like Yao and Shun in his life, and he is even more reluctant to leave and return to his hometown!"

As the brush touched the paper, everyone in the room instinctively straightened their hats and belts, their hearts filled with a turbulent emotion.

Many people have even begun to memorize this poem—this kind of verse, which can flatter superiors without being blatant, is exactly the model they have been dreaming of!

Jiang Xingzhou is indeed a very good writer!

"Lord Zhao has encountered more than just a wise and benevolent ruler like Yao and Shun!"

This poem clearly praises the current court for having countless pillars of society!

To build a grand edifice, is it really lacking the material of a transport commissioner? Zhao Huai may not be a great talent, but even a sunflower turns its head towards the sun; how could Zhao Huai not be devoted to the court? Loyalty to the emperor is in his nature!

Once this poem reaches the capital of the Great Zhou Dynasty, even Her Majesty the current Empress will likely be delighted and take notice!
All the pillars of the court were flattered by these few words.

This level of sycophancy is absolutely nauseating!

As expected, Jiang Xingzhou's talent was exceptional; even his flattering poems and prose were of the highest caliber!

The entire piece is full of praise, enough to make everyone feel elated!
The guests gazed intently at the poems.

Their eyes swirled with jealousy and frustration—why couldn't they write such exquisite articles that were both dignified and made listeners feel utterly captivated?

"Wonderful!"
I never imagined that poetry could be written like this!
Although he humbled himself as a commoner, he praised the current emperor and all the court officials!

Zhao Huai was overjoyed.

If this poem reaches the capital and is circulated to the imperial city, he, the transport commissioner of Jiangzhou, might even receive praise from His Majesty and the court!

Jiang Xingzhou glanced at Zhao Huai and smiled.

He continued to write poetry.

The second part of the Psalms.

This time, he changed the original meaning of Du Fu's poem—Du Fu wrote that he passed by the Lishan Palace and witnessed the extravagance of the emperor and nobles, the strict formation of the imperial guards, and the banquets of princes and ministers that lasted all night.

At this moment, however, Jiang Xingzhou changed the scene to a birthday banquet at the Zhao family mansion—the Zhao family mansion, the transport commissioner of Jiangzhou, was filled with guests from all directions, with delicacies piled up like mountains, indulging in extreme extravagance!

[Warm guests in sable fur coats, mournful pipes accompanied by clear zithers.]

They urge guests to enjoy camel hoof soup, and fragrant oranges pressed with frost. Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste, while on the road lie the bones of those frozen to death.

Prosperity and decline are but a hair's breadth apart; the sorrow is beyond words.
Jiang Xingzhou's pen is sharp as a knife, each character incisive and incisive!
In an instant——

The once bustling main hall of the Zhao residence suddenly fell silent!

"Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste; on the roads, frozen corpses lie."

The guests' expressions changed drastically, their throats bobbed, and their eyes were filled with undisguised terror as they all turned to look at Jiang Xingzhou!
Do not!
This is hardly flattery.

This is clearly a... stigmatizing poem of the highest caliber!

[Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste; on the roads, the bones of those frozen to death lie.]
Upon hearing this, all the guests were struck dumb, their spines tingling, and the horrifying image remained vivid in their minds.

Although the poem is a lengthy five hundred words, this one line alone is enough to make it a masterpiece!
Even ordinary people who write poems satirizing the world and its stigma still know how to use innuendo and veiled criticism, always trying to maintain some semblance of scholarly dignity.

But what about Jiang Xingzhou?
—And what did he do? He actually threw dirty water on the door!
A basin of dirty water was mercilessly splashed onto the vermilion gate of the Zhao mansion—"Behind the vermilion gate, the stench of wine and meat!"
Another basin of water was poured heavily onto the long street outside the Zhao residence—"There are frozen corpses on the road!"
[The difference between prosperity and decline is but a hair's breadth, and the sorrow is beyond words.] Just a step away lies the extravagance of the wealthy and the starving dead everywhere!
How ruthless!
Zhao Zilu initially attempted to smear Jiang Xingzhou.

Today, Jiang Xingzhou personally visited Zhao Huai's birthday banquet and, with a poem from the Da family, nailed the entire Zhao family to eternal infamy!
terrible!

There was no need for any irrefutable evidence of the Grand Canal Commissioner's corruption and bribery; this one sentence alone was enough to condemn the Grand Canal Commissioner Zhao Huai to eternal damnation!
The guests shuddered, their gazes toward Jiang Xingzhou filled not just with shock, but with deep fear.

Within a day, the entire Jiangzhou Prefecture would be filled with news of Jiang Xingzhou's obscene birthday poem presented to Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner!
Within a month, the news will likely spread like wildfire throughout the ten prefectures of Jiangnan!

The phrase "Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste, while on the road, frozen corpses lie!" nailed the Grand Canal Commissioner Zhao Huai and his family to the pillar of shame, condemning them to eternal damnation.

Zhao Huai's smile suddenly froze, all color drained from his face, and his entire face turned ashen, like gold leaf.

His throat bobbed, but he couldn't make a sound. He felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and his whole body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Behind him, Zhao Bingzhu, the head of the Zhao family, suddenly stood up, causing the rosewood chair to crash to the ground. The teacup overturned, and the scalding tea splashed onto his brocade robe, but he was completely unaware.

The illegitimate son, Zhao Zilu, was utterly dumbfounded. His face was contorted beyond recognition, and his lips trembled, yet he couldn't utter a single word.

Their minds were buzzing!
How dare Jiang Xingzhou?!

This is the seventieth birthday banquet of the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner!
The room was filled with high-ranking officials, dignitaries, and prominent families from Jiangzhou Prefecture!
The Zhao residence also houses three hundred elite guards, equipped with powerful crossbows and armor!
The Grand Canal Commissioner Zhao Huai commands three thousand elite canal transport soldiers, twenty warships, and his cronies are spread throughout the entire canal! Half of the river and docks in Jiangzhou Prefecture are under the Grand Canal Commissioner's control.

The Zhao family was an enormous behemoth!

Jiang Xingzhou actually dared to write such hurtful words in front of everyone, openly and brazenly?!

Zhao Huai finally snapped out of his shock, his chest heaving violently, his fingers clenching his sleeves so tightly that his knuckles turned white, almost tearing the luxurious brocade apart.

He suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, staring intently at Jiang Xingzhou, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper were being rubbed together:
"Jiang Xingzhou! How dare you—"

However, before he could finish speaking,

Zhao Huai's voice then abruptly stopped.

He suddenly turned around and looked around, then realized—

At this moment, the hundreds of scholars and guests in the room were completely silent, not a single person uttered a sound!
Everyone remained silent, their eyes flickering, some sipping their tea with their heads down, others turning their heads away to avoid looking at him; not a single person stood up to say a word for him!

—The poem is completed and immediately reaches the capital!

The Zhao family's power is gone!
In that instant, Zhao Huai immediately understood that Jiang Xingzhou's move had completely nailed his Zhao family to the brink of eternal damnation!
"oops!"

Among the guests, one man suddenly slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his face ashen. "I had completely forgotten that my elderly mother is bedridden at home. I must hurry back to serve her her medicine!"

"Oh no, oh no!"

The guests suddenly realized what was happening, and one of them jumped up, overturning his chair in the process, exclaiming, "My wife is about to give birth tonight, how could I be lingering here?!"

"Sorry, sorry! I suddenly remembered, the dog is about to have puppies."

In the blink of an eye, all the guests stood up to say goodbye, their faces filled with anxiety, as if they had suddenly remembered something of great urgency.

Some people didn't even have time to put on their outer robes, and some even accidentally kicked over the table, shattering teacups all over the floor, but no one bothered to clean up.

The nine great families and powerful figures of Jiangzhou Prefecture were now like frightened birds, rushing to take their leave.

Among them were many prominent families that had married into the Zhao family, but at this moment, who would dare to have any connection with the Zhao family?
Jiang Xingzhou's move was truly ruthless!
Everyone present was a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations or was a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations), and they were well aware of the terrifying nature of this poem.

This is no ordinary satire; it is a masterpiece worthy of being called the greatest stigmatizing poem of all time!

In order to kill Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner,
He even went so far as to write a stigmatizing poem of such high caliber!

"Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste; on the road, frozen corpses lie"—these are just ten short words!

The news will spread throughout Jiangzhou overnight, and the Zhao family will surely be cursed by all the people of Jiangzhou!
The news spread throughout Jiangnan in January, and might even be sent to the imperial court in the capital of the Great Zhou Dynasty!

Within a year, it will surely spread throughout the entire country, becoming an indelible stain on the Zhao family, the transport commissioner of Jiangzhou Prefecture!
In the past, all those satirical poems that used roundabout methods paled in comparison to this line, like fireflies meeting the bright moon.

Jiang Xingzhou had not yet finished writing this poem, but the ink on the Da Mansion poem, which was still wet, had already turned into a death warrant, hanging over the heads of everyone in the Zhao Mansion!
Zhao Huai's face turned deathly pale. He slumped into his seat, his lips trembling as he tried to defend himself, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Even if he had a hundred mouths, he would be unable to defend himself and could not clear his name of this terrible stain!

The Great Zhou court must be furious; how could it tolerate such a colossal scandal?

The imperial envoy will surely head south soon to thoroughly investigate the Zhao family!
At today's birthday banquet, not a single person who gave Zhao Huai a gift will escape punishment!
Those mountains of congratulatory gifts will soon become irrefutable evidence of death!
At this critical juncture, how dare you go to save the Zhao family and speak up for them?
That's like a mantis trying to stop a chariot!
The guests were extremely anxious, wanting nothing more than to escape the troublesome Zhao residence as soon as possible and sever all ties with it.

If any member of your family is related to the Zhao family through marriage, immediately write a letter of divorce!
If anyone in your family has sworn brotherhood with a member of the Zhao family, you must immediately sever all ties!
All accounts and transactions with the Zhao family were burned overnight!

We must sever all ties with the Zhao family before the imperial envoy arrives!
"Hmph! Let's go?"

A cold snort exploded like a thunderclap!

Prefect Xue Chonghu suddenly slammed his hand on the table, causing it to shake violently, teacups to overturn, and tea to spill all over the floor.

"Jiang Lang hasn't even finished writing this poem, and you all want to leave already?"

His gaze was sharp as he swept across the entire room. "What, don't you want to watch anymore?"

"Xingzhou, keep writing!"

Zhou Shanchang's face was cold and stern. He slammed his sword heavily onto the table, the scabbard striking the wooden table with a startling thud.

The guests froze instantly, as if nailed to the spot by an invisible pressure, their breaths catching in their throats.

They looked at Prefect Xue and Lord Zhou in horror, their eyes filled with shock.

Finished!

Jiang Xingzhou dared to attend the Zhao family's birthday banquet and publicly write this defamatory poem, all because these two Jiangzhou tycoons were backing him up!
This is hardly a birthday celebration; it's clearly a meticulously planned assassination plot against the Zhao family!

Imperial envoy?

We won't even be able to wait until then!
Tonight, the Zhao family is likely to face a great calamity, with the entire family being executed!
“BOOM! BOOM!”

The earth trembled, and the armor clashed with a clang!
Outside the Zhao residence, three thousand heavily armored soldiers surged in like a black tide, the sound of their iron boots echoing through the long street.

—A forest of spears and halberds, their cold light reflecting the moon!

—Powerful bows and crossbows, fully drawn and ready to be released!

The entire Zhao residence was completely surrounded, and not even a bird could escape!

"All bystanders, disperse immediately!"

With a stern shout, the Jiangzhou garrison commander dispersed the onlookers.

The crowd could only retreat three streets away, standing on tiptoe and craning their necks to gaze at the brightly lit Zhao residence in the distance.

Tonight, the sky over Jiangzhou is about to change!
Upon hearing the thunderous roar of heavy armor outside the Zhao residence, Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner, turned ashen-faced, his legs gave way, and he collapsed into his seat.

He then understood—

Xue Chonghu and Zhou Yuanjun intend to take advantage of tonight's birthday banquet to uproot the Zhao family, one of the ten great families of Jiangzhou Prefecture!
Jiang Xingzhou glanced at Zhao Huai, who was slumped in his seat, his gaze icy, his pen sharp as a knife, and wrote swiftly.

Presented to Zhao, the Transport Commissioner, at a Banquet at the Zhu Family Mansion

Part Three: The Grief of Returning Home!
The third part of this poem is not particularly surprising; rather, it fully expresses the grief and indignation of the old man in plain clothes and the desolation he witnessed among the common people.

[Upon entering, I heard wailing; my youngest child had already starved to death.]

I would rather bear one sorrow than see the whole neighborhood weep.

I am ashamed to be a father, for I did not provide him with food, which led to his premature death.

Little did we know that when the autumn harvest came, the poor would face sudden hardship.

He silently contemplates the unemployed, and thinks of the soldiers stationed far away.

The sorrow stretches as far as Zhongnan Mountain, a vast and boundless expanse beyond grasping.
Wherever the pen goes,
—Every sentence hits the nail on the head!

—Every word is piercing to the heart!
The guests stared at the vivid characters on the paper, feeling as if they had been struck by a heavy hammer, their breath caught in their throats.

What kind of despair is this?
Upon entering, I was met with heart-wrenching wails—my young child had starved to death! How could I bear the grief? The neighborhood was filled with sobs and cries.

What kind of self-blame is this?
As a father, he couldn't even give his child a bite to eat, and watched helplessly as his flesh and blood died!

What kind of grief and indignation is this?
During the autumn harvest season, when granaries should be overflowing, poor families are still starving and their bodies are scattered everywhere!
What kind of accusation is this?
The suffering of those displaced people and those soldiers who have not returned from guarding the border is as heavy as the Zhongnan Mountains and as boundless as a flood!
—And who is the culprit behind all of this?

It was the Zhao family, where "behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste, while on the road, frozen corpses lie."

The entire third part is written with great lavish detail, each stroke a sharp and incisive one!
That's so tragic!

That was written too harshly!
The smell alone brings tears to everyone's eyes.

"You old scoundrel Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner! I, Wang Juren, sever all ties with you!"

"You scoundrels! I never imagined that your Zhao family could be so vicious! Relying on your position as the transport commissioner, you levy exorbitant taxes and oppress the people of Jiangzhou Prefecture!"

The room was deathly silent, save for suppressed sobs and shouts of curses.

Zhao Huai trembled all over, his face ashen, yet he still managed to muster a sliver of fierceness as he roared hoarsely:

"Xue Chonghu! I am a fifth-rank official of the Imperial Court, in charge of the lifeline of the canal transport in Jiangnan, and directly under the jurisdiction of the Imperial Court's Canal Transport Office!"
You, the governor of Jiangzhou, have no right to govern me; what right do you have to arrest me?

He clung desperately to the last straw, his voice almost maniacal: "Even if there is suspicion of corruption, the Imperial Canal Transport Office should personally interrogate and investigate him!"
You overstepped your authority to arrest the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner; aren't you afraid the Censorate will impeach you?!

—Just get through this!
—Just drag it out until the Vice Minister of Rites gets involved!
A hint of madness flashed in Zhao Huai's eyes.

His relative by marriage was a high-ranking official in the court, the Vice Minister of Rites, who had connections everywhere. He was willing to give up all of the Zhao family's wealth to save his life. If things were handled properly, he could be demoted and exiled instead of having his entire family executed!

"Ah!"

Xue Chonghu suddenly laughed.

The laughter was like a dull knife scraping bone, making Zhao Huai's hair stand on end.

"You old bastard, you're about to die and you're still being stubborn!"

Xue Chonghu slammed his fist on the table and roared:

"Your Zhao family harbored a traitor, colluded with the demon race to attack the Jiangyin Tongsheng ship, and betrayed the Great Zhou human race—this is a capital offense punishable by the extermination of nine generations of your family!"
For this crime, this government can confiscate the property and exterminate the entire family!
What can your relative by marriage, the Vice Minister of Rites, offer to save the Zhao family's lives?!
Upon hearing this, Zhao Huai's pupils contracted sharply, revealing a look of horror!

"Do not!

"Absolutely impossible! You're slandering and framing my Zhao family!"
-
(End of this chapter)