Da Ming: I told you to die for your cause, why are you actually going to die?

Chapter 38 "Ultimate Death Admonition: Practical Exercise" [Requesting Monthly Tickets]

Zhang Biao's dilapidated little house, so bare that even rats would shake their heads in disgust, was now radiating an unprecedented 'sacred' light.

The door was wide open, and the house was crowded with poor, pedantic officials from Beijing, their eyes gleaming with hunger.

The air was filled with an intense, irresistible aroma of pork head meat.

In addition, the spiciness of cheap liquor creates a peculiar, adrenaline-pumping atmosphere.

In the very center of the room, a large iron pot, borrowed from somewhere, was temporarily set up.

The firewood crackled under the pot, while a milky white broth bubbled and simmered inside.

Three large pig heads, split open and boiled until their skin was crispy and their flesh was tender, trembling and glistening with oil, floated in the soup like three mountains of meat.

Shen Lang transformed into the head chef, wielding a large ladle with a heroic air as if he commanded a powerful army, directing several poor scholars who volunteered to assist him to chop scallions and mince garlic.

"Come on! Let's continue!"

Even then, Zhang Biao didn't forget to teach. He clapped his hands, signaling everyone to look at him: "We talked about being glib earlier, so how do you become glib?!"

He picked up his chopsticks, took out a piece of fatty pork that had just been taken out of the pot and was still dripping with hot oil, and spoke to everyone again: "See this! This kind! Seven parts fat and three parts lean, melts in your mouth, and is full of oily aroma, is the real currency for practicing your savory tongue!"

"One bite, and the oil instantly coats your lips, tongue, teeth, and cheeks!"

"Smooth, moist, and fragrant!"

"Make your lips look like they've been waxed, so your speech is glossy!"

"The Emperor will immediately recognize that you've added the 'I just had a full meal, I'm not afraid of death' aura to your image, which will surely confuse him!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he took a big, demonstrative bite.

The scalding grease dripped down his chin, burning him so badly he grimaced, but his face showed an almost pilgrimage-like satisfaction.

He chewed vigorously, continuing his lecture indistinctly: "Now that we have the 'oil mouth,' there's the next step: sound wave conduction! Listen up, all of you!"

He gulped down a mouthful of cheap, pungent liquor. The spicy liquid rushed down his throat, instantly choking him until his face turned red, but it also spurred him to shout even louder: "See that! Liquor! Especially this cheap, high-intensity liquor, it's the best megaphone!"

"It soothes the throat, invigorates the breath, and boosts courage!"

"Make your voice as loud as if it were amplified, guaranteed to penetrate the beams of the Fengtian Hall and make the Emperor's ears ring!"

"remember!"

At this point, his voice suddenly rose: "The louder you are, the more justified you seem! The louder your voice, the more confident you are! Even the Emperor would have to think twice before beheading you!"

Wow!
The whole place was in an uproar!

I've learned something! I've learned something! I've really learned something this time!
Just as everyone was getting excited, Zhang Biao wiped his shiny chin and glanced at the group of eager students: "Next is the final part of 'The Art of Success: Death Admonition' - a practical exercise!"

After saying this, he looked around at everyone and instructed them by example: "You two will form a group! One of you will play the emperor! The other will play the censor demanding back pay!"

"Hey, you playing the emperor, bring out the essence of the emperor! Be as ruthless as you can be!"

"Hey, you pretending to be an imperial censor, use all the smooth talk and loud voice you just learned!"

"There's only one goal—to anger the Emperor so much that he slams his fist on the dragon throne, yet still have no choice but to pay you money!"

Boom!

The little shabby house immediately erupted into chaos!

"Who goes there! How dare you plead poverty with us?! Drag him out and behead him!!" A bold censor instantly got into character.

Upon hearing this, a senior official from the Ministry of Personnel on the other side reacted very quickly.

He hastily stuffed two pieces of fatty meat into his mouth, opened his greasy mouth, spitting as he spoke, his voice booming loudly enough to lift the roof off: "Your Majesty! I am innocent! Look at my account books! Rice prices have skyrocketed! Rent is soaring! I haven't had any meat for three days!"

"If you want to execute me, I'll accept it! But you must at least let me die with a full stomach, otherwise, when I get to the King of Hell, I'll say that the Emperor of Ming didn't even give his subjects a full meal, how embarrassing for you!"

"How dare you!!"

On the other side, the fat censor followed suit, his voice trembling with sobs but unusually loud: "Your Majesty! Minister Zhao of the Ministry of Revenue has been skinned alive by you, and no one is taking care of our salaries! We can only hope that you, the upright and just magistrate, will make the decision!"

"Just think about it! The censor goes to impeach a corrupt official on an empty stomach, barely able to speak, and the corrupt official will laugh at us! This isn't just a disgrace to me, it's a disgrace to our Great Ming Dynasty, Your Majesty!" "Please, grant me two taels of silver so I can buy an old hen to nourish myself. Once I'm full, I'll immediately go and give that bastard who embezzled the river works a good dressing down! I guarantee double the efficiency!"

"You damned bastard! The Ministry of Revenue has a problem with the unpaid salaries! Why are you bothering us?!" Zhang Biao also started playing the role of 'Old Zhu'.

Shen Lang interjected at this moment, "Your Majesty! Even Imperial Censor Zhang was able to get his owed salary. We are also your subjects. You can't be so biased towards one another, can you?!"

"you you you!"

"Outrageous! Drag Zhang Biao, the culprit, out and behead him—!!"

Zhang Biao, who plays 'Old Zhu', is so angry that he clutches his chest, feeling like he's about to have angina.

In an instant, the roars of "Old Zhu," the grumbling of "the Imperial Censor," the smacking sounds of fat being chewed, the hissing of strong liquor going down the throat, and the thuds of various table-slapping sounds in the small, dilapidated house intertwined into an absurd and exciting symphony.

Everyone's face was shiny with oil and their eyes were filled with excitement, as if they were not simulating a desperate plea for unpaid wages, but waging a holy war on the road to financial freedom.

While playing the role of 'Old Zhu', Zhang Biao instructed the 'Censor Demanding Wages':
"Yes! Louder! We're going to blow the roof off!"

"Fat meat! Put another piece in! It's not shiny enough, we can't see it!"

"When you're complaining about being poor, be specific! Tell us that even the mice in your house are starving!"

"Wine! Take another sip! To boost your spirits!"

Just as Zhang Biao and his men were practicing with great enthusiasm, the Huagai Hall in the palace was brightly lit.

Old Zhu sat slumped on the cold dragon throne, all traces of weariness, kindness, and even anger vanished from his face, leaving only the coldness and ruthlessness of an emperor.

He picked up his imperial brush, dipped it in thick ink, and wrote bold, powerful characters on the bright yellow silk:

"Fengtian Chengyun Emperor, the imperial edict said:

I, having received the Mandate of Heaven, rule over all lands. My Crown Prince Biao, by nature benevolent and filial, was capable of carrying on the family line. But Heaven did not grant him a long life, and he passed away suddenly. My heart is broken, and the whole nation mourns.

The princes, mindful of their fraternal bond, rushed back through the night, prostrating themselves in grief, which brought me some comfort.

However, filial piety resides in the heart, not in empty words. Grief is felt internally, not confined to physical form.

Now that the Crown Prince has been laid to rest, all the princes should return to their fiefdoms, faithfully uphold their duties as subjects, and comfort the soldiers and civilians, so as to appease the spirit of the Crown Prince in heaven and to reassure the hopes of the nation and its people.

The emperor hereby orders all princes, including Prince Zhu Shuang of Qin, Prince Zhu Gang of Jin, and Prince Zhu Di of Yan, along with their accompanying guards and officials, to leave the capital within three days and return to their respective fiefdoms.

As he wrote this, he recalled Zhang Biao's earlier words and added an extremely cold-blooded phrase:
"Without an imperial edict, no one may leave their fiefdom!"

"Without an imperial edict, no private contact is permitted!"

"Without an imperial edict, no one is permitted to enter the capital!"

"Be mindful of this! Do not be negligent or negligent!"

As the last character '忽' was written, the imperial brush paused heavily, the ink as sharp as a knife's edge.

"Jiang Huan!"

Old Zhu's voice was like ice colliding, devoid of any warmth.

"Chen is here!"

Jiang Huan appeared at the foot of the steps like a ghost.

"Make a copy immediately, affix the imperial seal, and send it to the Ten Princes' residences at top speed. Read it aloud in person and instruct the princes to prepare immediately!"

Old Zhu threw down the imperial edict with a resolute gesture: "Tell them to keep their mourning in mind, and all of you—get back home! Behave yourselves!"

"The minister obeys the order!"

Jiang Huan held the heavy imperial edict, still fragrant with ink, in both hands as if holding an invisible thunderbolt.

He knew that the Emperor had already made his decision regarding that position.

What follows is destined to be a bloodbath.

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(End of this chapter)