Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 15 From today onwards, we are in the same boat.
There is no escape route.

Zhang Weixian was utterly horrified. Countless chaotic pieces of information tangled together in his mind, almost tearing his entire body apart instantly!
What is the emperor trying to do?!
Why does our Emperor want to rebel?!
The emperor left him absolutely no way out.

This is a conspiracy.

A blatant conspiracy to force him into submission by threatening his family's honor and survival.

Zhang Weixian closed his eyes.

Scenes flashed rapidly through his mind.

It was in the first year of the Jingtai reign that his grandfather, Zhang Fu, led his army to fight against the Oirat army in the city of Beijing, and died a tragic death in battle.

It is a picture of his father leading the soldiers of the Beijing Garrison in a bloody battle against the Tatars outside the border wall during the Jiajing era.

That was the true glory of the British Duke's mansion, an ingrained pride belonging to soldiers.

Then, the scene changes.

They turned into his good-for-nothing nephews and nieces, who engaged in cockfighting, dog racing, and extravagant spending!
On the painted boats of the Qinhuai River, they would embrace beautiful courtesans, engage in lively discussions, and mock the impoverished state of the border soldiers.

They were dressed in the most gorgeous silk, yet they couldn't even ride a horse steadily or draw a bow!

Their only skill is knowing how to use their ancestors' titles to seize land, lend money at exorbitant interest rates, and exploit every avenue to make money.

A tremendous sense of sorrow and anger gripped his heart.

He knew the emperor was right.

If things continue like this, even without the Jurchens attacking, the noble class of the British Duke's Mansion in the Ming Dynasty will rot away from its very core.

Taking on this task means becoming a lone wolf, walking on a knife's edge, where one could be shattered to pieces at any moment.

but……

What if I don't answer?
Then we can only watch helplessly as our ancestors' legacy turns to dust in our own hands.

How can he face his ancestors in the underworld after he dies?

A long time, a long time.

Zhang Weixian slowly opened his eyes.

Those originally cloudy eyes now seemed to have been washed with blood, revealing a resolute and terrifying glint.

He did not answer the emperor's question.

He simply stood up, straightened his clothes, and then performed a perfect, impeccable single-knee salute to Zhu Youjian.

This gesture is not a subject's greeting to the king, but rather a general's promise to the commander-in-chief before setting out on a campaign.

"Your Majesty, take the order."

His voice was hoarse and dry, yet resounding.

“But…” He looked up at Zhu Youjian, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, a final plea from the one who had brought an era to the one who would create another.

"If I die in office, Your Majesty, please... treat my family well."

What he received was not an imperial edict.

He signed a bloody contract that mortgaged his life and the future of the entire British government!

……

By the time the conversation ended, the sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

The sound of the clapper at the fourth watch came from afar, hollow and lingering.

Zhu Youjian did not order the imperial kitchen to prepare any grand feast, nor did he utter any more encouraging words.

He simply gave Wang Chengen a single instruction.

A moment later, Wang Chengen came in carrying a food box.

The food box contained no delicacies, only two bowls of steaming hot, simple shredded pork noodles.

The noodles are chewy, the broth is rich, a few pieces of green vegetables, a few strands of meat, and a sprinkle of bright green scallions, exuding a simple yet warm aroma on this cold winter night.

Zhu Youjian personally picked up a bowl and handed it to Zhang Weixian.

"Duke, you must be hungry after a long night. Please finish this bowl of noodles before leaving the palace." Zhang Weixian silently accepted the bowl.

He watched the steam rising from the bowl, the steam blurring his vision.

He couldn't remember how many years it had been since he had eaten such a simple bowl of noodles. The last time seemed to be during the Jiajing era, when he accompanied his father to the border camp after patrolling the night defense.

Zhu Youjian picked up a bowl himself, but instead of sitting down, he stood there, picked up noodles with his chopsticks, and ate them slowly.

He ate quietly and attentively, as if he were not in the majestic Qianqing Palace, but in the kitchen of an ordinary family late at night.

"Duke," he said calmly as he ate, "I know what you're thinking."

"Once you step out this door, you'll be all alone. Your old brothers and friends will all see you as an enemy. They'll stab you in the back with countless arrows. Even your family might not understand you."

He swallowed a mouthful of noodles, raised his head, and his gaze was clear and firm.

"But you must remember this."

"From today onwards, we are in the same boat."

"I steer the ship from the bow, keeping an eye on the direction and avoiding the biggest storms and reefs."

“You will be on the deck, wielding your sword to cut off any hands that try to pierce the bottom of our ship, and to cut down any enemies who try to climb aboard.”

"No matter how big the storm, I will not let you fall in."

"As long as I am on this ship, I will always be there for you."

These words, devoid of any royal authority or benevolence, were more reassuring than any sacred pronouncement of "unity between ruler and subject," and instilled a profound and inescapable sense of responsibility.

This is a commitment.

A leader's most honest commitment to his most important project partner.

Zhang Weixian didn't say anything; he just lowered his head and ate his noodles in big mouthfuls.

He ate quickly and forcefully, as if he wanted to swallow all his doubts, fears, and struggles along with the bowl of noodles.

A drop of scalding liquid fell into the soup bowl, silently creating a small ripple.

I don't know if it was sweat or something else.

The bowl of noodles was quickly emptied.

They even drank all the soup.

Zhang Weixian put down the bowl and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

He stood up, and his entire demeanor seemed to change.

The weariness and dejection that belonged to the noble elders were swept away, replaced by a rekindled steely will belonging to the soldiers.

He knew that from the moment he finished that bowl of noodles, his life had entered its final and most magnificent chapter.

He didn't say another word.

He simply gave Zhu Youjian an impeccable military salute once again.

Then he turned around and strode out of the Qianqing Palace.

His silhouette was stretched long in the faint morning light.

Lonely, yet resolute.

It's like a moving monument about to go to the battlefield.

Zhu Youjian stood there watching him leave until his figure disappeared at the end of the palace.

Wang Chengen stepped forward and whispered, "Master, it's almost dawn, you should rest for a while too."

Zhu Youjian shook his head. He walked to the window and looked at the sun, which was about to rise but was obscured by clouds.

"I can't rest anymore, Wang Banban."

he said softly.

"The ship has already left port!"

(End of this chapter)