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

Chapter 63 A plea for the Ming Dynasty to perish—!! [Requesting monthly votes]

"The Emperor has arrived——!"

A sharp announcement shattered the roars in the square like a hammer blow.

Everyone was startled, and their eyes turned to the entrance of the square.

Instead of riding in the imperial carriage, Emperor Zhu was supported by several close eunuchs as he walked step by step up the steps in front of the Fengtian Hall.

His face was sallow, his body was hunched, and his weakness from recovering from a serious illness was hard to hide.

His gaze, passing over the kneeling Imperial Guards and low-ranking officials, was like a cold probe, fixed on the edge of the square.

There, Zhang Biao was being held tightly by two Imperial Guards.

He struggled to lift his head, his gaze sweeping eagerly toward the center of the square.

With just one glance, his breath almost stopped.

Although he had already heard Jiang Huan talk about "lying corpse," "chamber pot lamp," and those childish slogans, the impact of seeing it with his own eyes far exceeded his imagination.

On the cold, gold-brick ground lay his group of 'brothers in distress,' who had been drinking and eating pig's head together the night before.

Shen Lang was wrapped in that dirty, tattered straw mat, looking like a real corpse, with only his face, blue from the cold but full of stubbornness, showing.

Li Mo, dressed only in a thin undergarment, lay on his official robe, his body trembling slightly uncontrollably, yet he still tried his best to maintain the posture of "a scholar can be killed but not humiliated".

Sun Gui!

Sun Gui was holding the chamber pot, which was swaying in the dim candlelight, high in the air.

The strange smell, a mixture of cheap wax and residual urine, could be faintly detected even from a distance.

The tragic expression on his face, a mixture of resignation and shame, was like a red-hot needle piercing Zhang Biao's eyes.

And many more people, holding broken bowls and worn-out shoes, illuminate their humble yet dazzling 'light' in all sorts of absurd and ridiculous ways.

When they saw the emperor arrive and Zhang Biao being escorted, instead of showing fear and retreating, they struggled to raise their heads, their eyes filled with anxiety, worry, and an almost foolish desire to protect him.

"Brother Biao!!"

Someone shouted hoarsely, their voice trembling with tears.

"Release our Brother Biao!"

"Your Majesty! I'm innocent!!"

Faint yet persistent cries rose and fell from the corpses.

At this moment, all notions of playing around and planning to go home were shattered by this absurd, tragic, yet incredibly real scene.

Zhang Biao felt as if a red-hot iron was stuck in his chest cavity, burning his internal organs and causing them to convulse.

These fools!

These reckless idiots!

Almost simultaneously, his gaze swept sharply toward the duty room next door.

Behind the window, those familiar figures.

Ru Chang, Fu Youwen, Guo Ying, Li Jinglong
They were holding a hand warmer, standing leisurely by the window, pointing and gesturing.

Although I couldn't hear the specific content.

But the undisguised contempt, sarcasm, and monkey-watching smiles on their faces, along with their condescending and indifferent attitude that regarded all living beings as ants, formed a cruel contrast with the burning grief and indignation of Shen Lang and others in the square, like a hell on earth.

On one side, his brothers were risking their lives for him in the freezing cold, even resorting to holding up chamber pots.

On the other side, those parasites were enjoying the people's hard-earned money in their warm chambers, doing everything they could to mock them.

No matter how much a small fry struggles, it's still a small fry!

Fu Youwen's cold and arrogant words seemed to explode in his ears.

boom--!
An indescribable rage, like volcanic magma that had been accumulating for millennia, instantly overwhelmed Zhang Biao's reason and pretense.

It burned away the last bit of his 'player' mentality.

What kind of fucking world is this?!

Why? !

Why should those who work hard and speak out for the people be starved and frozen to death, and be humiliated and humiliated?

Why should those parasites who leech off the people be allowed to stand high above and act with impunity?!
Old Zhu still wants to use his brothers' blood to sharpen his knife?

Damn it!
Today, I'm going to chop off the claws of these jackals and tigers!

"Zhang Biao!"

As soon as Old Zhu finished speaking, a group of people rushed out of the duty room.

They stood on either side of the steps, in slightly lower positions, like VIP seats for watching a grand drama.

They were all waiting to see how the Emperor would deal with the lawless Zhang Biao and how he would crush this group of ignorant 'small fish'.

Old Zhu stood at the highest point of the steps, the cold wind whipping up the hem of his black everyday robe.

He didn't look at the low-ranking officials lying on the ground holding up their "light sources." His gaze was fixed on Zhang Biao, and his voice, though not loud, carried a chilling cruelty that pierced to the bone, clearly echoing throughout the entire square:
"We gave you a chance."

"Now, we'll let you choose."

"You're going to keep an eye on us."

Old Zhu slowly raised his withered fingers, like the scythe of death, pointing them at Shen Lang, who was closest to him and wrapped in a straw mat: "Kill them one by one!"

"still."

His voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable air of authority: "Tell me! Are you willing to help our Great Ming Dynasty illuminate this eternal night!?"

"Om-!"

The square fell silent instantly.

Even the cold wind seemed to freeze.

"Brother Biao."

The hearts of all the low-ranking officials in the capital were in their throats. Shen Lang stared wide-eyed on the straw mat, the candle in Sun Gui's chamber pot flickered wildly, and Li Mo felt as if his blood was about to freeze.

The smiles of the nobles and high-ranking officials watching from the imperial throne widened even further.

Guo Ying watched expressionlessly, Fu Youwen tightened his grip on his beard, and Ru Chang's eyes flashed with bloodthirsty excitement.

good good!
kill!

Kill them quickly!

Kill this arrogant bastard to show him what's what!
Zhang Biao was held down tightly by two Imperial Guards. He lowered his head, and his shoulders seemed to be trembling slightly.

Everyone thought he had succumbed to immense pressure, that he was in fear and struggling.

A cold, smug look of complete control flashed in Old Zhu's eyes.

however.

It was during this deathly silent moment, when the pressure had reached its peak.

"Hahaha--!"

A maniacal laugh, filled with endless mockery and indignation, exploded like a thunderclap from a clear sky.

The sound made everyone's eardrums buzz.

It's Zhang Biao.

He suddenly shrugged his shoulder.

The two Imperial Guards who were holding him tightly were thrown back several steps by his sudden burst of strength, as if they had thrown away two bags of garbage.

Zhang Biao raised his head.

There was no trace of fear or struggle left in those eyes.

Only when it burns to its extreme, like a raging fire that will incinerate the entire world.

That anger wasn't directed at Old Zhu.

Instead, it was like two torrents of scorching lava, sweeping fiercely towards both sides of the imperial steps, where the nobles and high-ranking officials, dressed in python robes and jade belts, watched as if they were watching a monkey show.

"Choose?! Choose your mother's choice!"

Zhang Biao's voice was hoarse and violent, like a wounded beast roaring, instantly tearing apart the deathly silence of the square.

He suddenly raised his hand, his fingers like poisoned javelins, and stabbed the first target, Fu Youwen, the Vice Minister of Revenue:

"Fu Youwen! I've been wanting to get back at you for ages! What are you doing with those old bastards of yours?! Dare to show me the Ministry of Revenue's account books?!"

"You think you can rest easy now that Zhao Qian is dead, and just wait to be promoted to Minister of Revenue?! Keep dreaming!"

"Isn't the fertile land you've seized in your hometown bigger than the imperial estates? Isn't your brother-in-law's smuggling of salt and iron more extensive than the official salt trade?! You're the biggest rat and parasite in the Ming Dynasty!! Zhao Qian is just a scapegoat!!"

Fu Youwen's face turned deathly pale instantly. His hand, which was stroking his beard, froze in mid-air, as if his vital point had been struck. His body swayed, and he almost fainted on the spot.

How did Zhang Biao know all this?!
Of course he knew, after all, he had died so many times and knew all sorts of reckless behavior.

He simply never had the chance to "plead for his life" and ask for death.

"And you too! Guo Ying!"

Zhang Biao turned his cannon towards the trembling old Marquis Wuding, spitting almost onto his face: "To be old and not die is to be a thief! Leaning on that cane all day, knocking and knocking! Knocking your father's coffin!"

"Back when you were helping the Emperor conquer the country, how many dirty deeds did you do behind the scenes? Who embezzled military rations? Who abducted women? What are you pretending to be now, all loyal and righteous?!"

"Your old skin is thicker than the corner of the city wall of Yingtian Prefecture! You're like an old rock that's been soaking in a latrine for eighty years! Stinky, hard, and useless! You should go down and join Chen Youliang!"

"You brat! How dare you!!"

Guo Ying's face turned from red to purple, then from purple to black, as she was scolded. She felt a lump in her throat, and her cane slipped from her hand with a 'clang.' She swayed precariously, only managing to stay upright thanks to the strong support of her servants.

"Oh, right, Ru Chang!"

Zhang Biao's anger, like a wildfire, spread towards him:
"The Minister of War is in charge of all the troops in the country? What right do you have to control that? What you control is how to bleed soldiers dry, how to sell official positions, and how to treat military households like slaves!?"

"How many of your generals aren't your relatives?! How many aren't your dogs who pay tribute to you?!"

"The soldiers on the frontier are starving while guarding the country's gates, and you're in the capital counting silver with your concubines! You're even more hateful than the Tartars!"

"You're a wolf in sheep's clothing! No! You're not even as good as a wolf! At least a wolf knows how to protect its cubs! You're just a pile of stinking dog shit!"

Ru Chang's obese body trembled violently, and the composure on her face had long since vanished, leaving only boundless horror and fear.

Every word Zhang Biao uttered was like a knife stabbing into his most hidden sore.

Finally, Zhang Biao looked at the bewildered Old Zhu and sneered:

"Your Majesty, didn't you let me choose?"

"I've made my choice!"

"I deserve to die! Shen Lang and the others deserve to die too! Not a single one of your officials deserves to die! If you're crazy enough, kill us all!"

"Hahaha! Where is the historian?!"

"You better remember this!"

He let out a wild laugh and shouted at the low-ranking officials lying on the ground:
"Brothers! I am not alone! Follow me! Let the Ming Dynasty die for us—!"

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　　In addition, I would like to add that I want to write about a person with feelings and righteousness, a flesh-and-blood human being, not a two-dimensional character who dies for the sake of dying.

　　A lighthearted, entertaining story can be mindless, but it cannot be heartless or ruthless; this is the core of this article.

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(End of this chapter)