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

Chapter 69 Don't worry, you'll all die! [Seeking monthly votes]

"Brother Biao."

As soon as he left that desolate place, Shen Lang was the first to lose his composure.

He quickly took two steps to catch up with Zhang Biao, his voice trembling with relief and lingering fear:
"Brother Biao, are we really leaving like this? If the Emperor wakes up, will he also..."

He made a throat-slitting gesture, and his face turned pale.

Others gathered around, chattering amongst themselves, their voices filled with fear:

"Yes, Imperial Censor Zhang! The Emperor seems genuinely angered by you."

"We've made such a big scene today."

"Skin them alive, light the lamps, and exterminate their entire family."

Some people remembered Zhou Ya's fate and their teeth chattered.

Zhang Biao stopped and looked at his good brothers, who had just been shouting "Please let the Ming Dynasty die!" but were now as scared as quails. He suddenly grinned.

That smile appeared particularly abstract in the afterglow of the setting sun.

He reached out and patted Shen Lang's shoulder heavily, then looked around at everyone and said clearly in an extremely confident, matter-of-fact, and even slightly 'don't worry, it's nothing' tone, 'Don't worry!'

Everyone's eyes lit up, as if they had grasped at a lifeline.

Could it be that Brother Biao has another way?!
Zhang Biao slowly reached into his pocket, pulled out a few pieces of silver, weighed them in his hand, and then looked at them with a knowing smile: "Death, they're definitely going to die."

Everyone: "???"

The smile froze on my face, and my heart sank to the ground.

But then Zhang Biao changed the subject, waving the loose silver in his hand, his eyes filled with anticipation for some kind of sacred ritual: "But! We haven't eaten those five pig heads yet, have we?"

He paused, then emphasized, as if announcing a major national policy: "Nothing is more important than food! Only when we're well-fed can we have the strength to set off!"

"Come on! Let's go to my house! We'll have a great meal tonight! Lots of pig's head meat!"

Zhang Biao waved his hand, exuding heroic spirit, as if he were not the one who had just angered the emperor to the point of fainting, scolded away the court nobles, and was about to face the threat of being skinned alive.

Upon hearing this, the crowd was taken aback at first, and then burst into enthusiastic cheers.

Yes!

Thinking about anything now is pointless; we might as well eat first!
Even if he gets beheaded, he'll still die a well-fed bastard!

Moreover, what they did today is enough to go down in history. Even if they are not the main characters, their lives have been worthwhile.

And so, under the setting sun.

A group of "wage-demanding heroes," who had just experienced a life-or-death race and whose future was uncertain, were led by Zhang Biao and, with boundless longing for "profits," marched with either heavy or light steps toward Zhang Biao's official residence, their goal clear and their resolve unwavering.

Shen Lang, who watched them leave first, sighed with a complicated expression and muttered:

"Then tonight's meal will be their last meal before they die!!"

"Snapped!"

A large hand suddenly patted Shen Lang's shoulder, followed by a teasing voice:

"What's wrong, Brother Shen? Was today's remonstrance not exciting enough? Or was the pig's head meat not tasty enough?"

"Brother Biao, it's me."

Shen Lang was startled by the slap, then turned to look at Zhang Biao, hesitating to speak.

But Zhang Biao grinned and forcefully stuffed the few pieces of silver in his hand into Shen Lang's hand: "Here, take it."

Shen Lang caught it instinctively; it felt heavy in his hand, carrying Zhang Biao's body heat.

He looked down and was so shocked he almost dropped the loose silver: "Brother Biao?! This is silver? Why so much?!"

"More? More farts!"

Zhang Biao chuckled and tapped the few pieces of silver with his chin: "Only five taels, three mace, and seven fen in total. That's barely enough to buy half a pig!"

"Then what is this?" Shen Lang was a little confused.

The mockery on Zhang Biao's face faded slightly, his gaze drifted into the distance, and his voice lowered:
"Go to the South City, to the house at the very end of Willow Lane, the one with the crooked tree in front of it. Take this money to Censor Wang's house."

"Censor Wang?" Shen Lang instantly understood, and his heart ached.

The old censor Wang Zhongwang who starved to death at home.

Zhang Biao nodded, seemingly unwilling to dwell on the matter, and resumed his nonchalant tone: "Tell them that the Ministry of Revenue owes Old Wang his salary, just those three slips of paper."

As he spoke, he patted his chest and continued, "We've got it all in the book, it works! We'll get it back to them later! Let them hold on a little longer, don't do anything rash like Old Wang, there's still life in this world!"

Shen Lang gripped the loose silver in his hand, looking at Zhang Biao's thin, faded robe swaying in the cold wind, and his eyes suddenly felt a little hot.

He knew that Zhang Biao himself was penniless, and these five taels of silver were definitely all his possessions.

"Brother Biao."

Shen Lang's voice was choked with emotion:
"This is all your money! How could you give it all away?"

Zhang Biao was about to catch up with the group of low-ranking officials from the capital when he heard this and froze abruptly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He turned around abruptly, his eyes wide open, staring at Shen Lang with a look of utter disbelief.

"Holy crap?! How did you know?! Can you read minds or are you trying to steal my girlfriend?!"

Shen Lang was a little embarrassed by Zhang Biao's overly strong reaction and quickly explained:
"No, Brother Biao, I did the calculation."

"Forget it?"

Zhang Biao raised an eyebrow.

Shen Lang, his fingers stiff from the cold, began to calculate quietly and methodically:

“A few days ago, you got fifty taels of silver back from the Emperor and gave me twenty taels.”

"Then, last night I treated the brothers to a meal and drinks, ordering ten catties of pig's head meat, three jars of strong liquor, plus those five pig's heads. All things considered, today's meal cost you about twenty-four taels and six mace."

"Then what's left should be the five taels, three mace, and seven fen in your pocket, right?"
Shen Lang's voice grew softer and softer until it was almost a mosquito's hum.

But that precision made Sun Gui, Li Mo, and the others who were eavesdropping nearby gasp in shock.

The air seemed to freeze.

Zhang Biao remained frozen in that wide-eyed, open-mouthed pose for a full three breaths.

A cold wind blew through his slightly disheveled hair, and the shock on his face slowly faded, replaced by an extremely strange expression.

It felt like discovering some rare treasure, or like being suddenly bitten by your pet rabbit.

He slowly, slowly opened his mouth, the smile growing wider and wider until it turned into a silent, violently shaking, maniacal laugh.

He pointed at Shen Lang, laughing so hard he could barely breathe:
"Good lad! You're something else! You're a real talent! Instead of being an accountant, you became an imperial censor, what a waste of your talent! What a waste of your great talent! Hahaha! You even know exactly how many copper coins I have in my pocket! Hahaha!"

Shen Lang blushed deeply at his laughter and was at a loss for what to do.

After laughing his fill, Zhang Biao slapped Shen Lang hard on the shoulder, almost making him stumble: "Talented! Good! Accountant Shen! Don't worry about me not having money!"

He straightened up, facing the cold wind, his face regaining its arrogant expression, and his voice carried clearly to everyone's ears:
"Tomorrow! Let's go to the Ministry of Revenue tomorrow!"

"Go to the Ministry of Revenue? Didn't they say they were broke? Vice Minister Fu cried poverty so pitifully at the last court assembly."

"No money?"

Zhang Biao scoffed and spread his hands, saying, "No money? Then settle the debt with assets!"

"Tables, chairs, benches, writing brushes, ink, paper, flowers, and plants. If all else fails, strip them of their official robes and see how much they can be sold for!"

"Such a large Ministry of Revenue, surely it can squeeze this little bit of hard-earned money out of us?!"

Upon hearing this, Shen Lang and the others were stunned.

She just angered the emperor to the point of fainting, and now she's going to rob him of his money?! Will the emperor ever wake up?!
……

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(End of this chapter)