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

Chapter 57 If Heaven hadn't given birth to Brother Biao, the Ming Dynasty would have remained in perpetual darkness! [Seeking monthly votes]

Fengtian Hall Square.

"Bros!!"

Shen Lang was the first to jump out, his face filled with grief and indignation, yet his voice carried a grotesque roar:

"Brother Biao has gone to great lengths for us starving poor folks! He's risked everything! He's even risked his life!"

He slapped his thigh hard, causing himself to stumble: "Can we back down?! Can we just watch Brother Biao bravely face death?!"

"cannot--!"

Dozens of low-ranking officials in Beijing, as if injected with chicken blood, roared in unison, their voices tinged with sobs and a kind of reckless abandon.

The scene didn't look like a petition; it looked more like a mob preparing to grab discounted meat at a market.

Soon, the commotion attracted the attention of all sorts of people around the square.

In the distance, along the corridor, some low-ranking officials, clerks, and even guards and eunuchs stopped and craned their necks to watch.

"hiss--"

A minor official in a blue robe gasped and whispered to his companion, "Are these people really courting death? They just escaped death, and now they're looking for it again?"

"Hmph, what kind of behavior is this, trying to attract attention?"

A slightly older, stern-faced official standing nearby flicked his sleeve and sneered, his lips curling down in disdain: "The dignity of the court has been completely disgraced by this bunch of soldiers—no, they're not even as good as soldiers! They are a disgrace to us officials!"

Although his words represented the views of many self-proclaimed noble officials, there were also a few equally poorly dressed minor officials who hid behind a pillar, watching the scene with complicated expressions.

One person muttered, "They may be stupid, but they really have guts! I actually have a copy of that 'Blood and Tears Record of Demanding Unpaid Wages' too."

His voice was low, carrying a barely perceptible hint of empathy and shame.

However, the solemn atmosphere was quickly ruined by Shen Lang's next move.

He produced a dirty, tattered straw mat with frayed edges from somewhere.

"Pfft!"

Without saying a word, Shen Lang laid the tattered straw mat directly on the cold gold brick square.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, he nimbly lay down on the straw mat.

Then, he did something that made everyone's eyes pop out.

He pulled up the edges of the straw mat and wrapped himself up completely from head to toe.

From a distance, it looks like a mummy that has just crawled out of a mass grave and is ready to breathe its last.

"puff--"

A young guard in the distance couldn't help but almost burst out laughing, then quickly covered his mouth, his face turning red and his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

The old guard beside him glared at him and hissed, "You want to die?! Be serious! We're trained; we can't laugh no matter how funny it is!"

But the corners of my mouth started twitching uncontrollably.

"Brothers—!"

"I, Shen Lang! Today I will emulate that starving Imperial Censor Wang! I will lie down in front of the Fengtian Hall!"

"I want the Emperor to see this! I want all the officials in the court to see this! I want everyone in this glorious Ming Dynasty to see this!"

"How were we officials forced to lie in front of the Fengtian Hall and wait to die!"

"This straw mat! It's my shroud! This Fengtian Hall Square! It's my morgue!"

"Today! Either release my brother Biao! Or collect Shen Lang's corpse!!"

boom--!
This design is quite unique!
This declaration! It's absolutely shocking!

Other lower-ranking officials in the capital were initially taken aback, but then erupted in an even more fervent response.

"Yes! Lie down! All of you, lie down!" "What if we don't have straw mats?!"

"You're so stupid! Learn from Editor Li Mo!"

Li Mo, the editor, a learned scholar, was now completely going all out.

He swiftly took off his own official robe, which was also covered in patches but at least looked decent.

Then, imitating Shen Lang, he spread the elegant outer garment on the ground and lay down on it.

"I, Li Mo! A Hanlin editor! I'm lying down today too! To hell with being refined! First, save Brother Biao, and fill our stomachs!"

With such a role model, others immediately followed suit.

Without straw mats, they took off their official robes; those whose robes were too thin simply lay directly on the cold gold bricks.

In an instant, a large number of 'corpses' lay scattered haphazardly in Fengtian Hall Square.

There was Shen Lang, wrapped up like a rice dumpling; there was Li Mo, whose lips were turning purple from the cold, yet she still tried her best to maintain her reclining posture; and there was someone who simply lay sprawled out, completely resigned to their fate.
This scene elicited even more astonishing reactions from the onlookers, who were utterly astonished.

"They've gone mad! They've all gone mad!"

The rigid official was so angry that his beard trembled, and he stamped his feet repeatedly: "A disgrace to civilization! A disgrace to civilization! The rites and music have collapsed! When a country is about to perish, there will surely be monsters!"

Upon hearing this, several men dressed in what appeared to be noble or aristocratic attire crossed their arms and sneered with amusement: "Hey, this is much more interesting than the monkey show under the overpass."

"Who says it isn't?"

Another nobleman chuckled and chimed in, "Look at them, lying down so neatly!"

"Hey!"

An official finally couldn't help but sigh, touched his empty purse, and looked at the figures lying on the cold ground, his previous spectator mentality gone.

Instead, it carries a sense of heaviness and a poignant sadness, as if the object of our compassion is being used to our own kind.

Some minor officials were preparing to quietly retreat into the shadows, unable to bear watching any longer.

But this is not over yet.

Lying in the body bag, Shen Lang didn't forget his duty, and roared at the crowd in a muffled voice, "Shout the slogans! Send off Brother Biao!"

Half of the dozens of 'corpses' were instantly resurrected.

They struggled to lift their upper bodies, or simply lay down and strained to their lungs, letting out roars powerful enough to shake the entire city of Yingtian:
"If Heaven hadn't given birth to Brother Biao, the Ming Dynasty would have remained in eternal darkness!"

"Give me back my brother Biao! Give me back my pig's head!"

"Pay off all back wages! Otherwise, I'll die here—!"

This slogan! The first half is outrageous, while the second half is as vulgar as a debt collector cursing in the street.

The stark contrast was so shocking that even the imperial guards protecting the palace gates nearly dropped the golden mace they were holding.

Stimulate!

That was fucking exciting!
Are these people really crazy?!
They looked at each other, trying to maintain a serious expression, but the absurdity and shock in their eyes were impossible to hide.

"Rebellion! Rebellion! Openly defaming the palace! Slandering the Holy Dynasty! Their hearts are wicked! Their crimes deserve the extermination of their entire family!!"

Under the long corridor, the rigid official who had initially looked down on him was now pale with anger, his finger trembling as he pointed at the square: "Quickly! Send someone to report to the Emperor!!"

Soon, the surrounding area descended into indescribable chaos.

Someone yelled.

Some people found it both laughable and absurd.

The minor official who had initially felt some empathy now stared blankly at the absurd yet poignant slogan, unconsciously muttering "settle the back wages."

He suddenly woke up with a start, looking around in panic, afraid that someone would hear him.

(End of this chapter)