Transmigrating to the Chongzhen era, I started by confiscating the Donglin Party.

On the 14th day of the tenth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, at the end of the Xu hour

The Military Law Office of the Beijing Garrison, the dungeon.

Li Ruolian sat behind the interrogation table, looking at Wang Cheng, who was bound hand and foot, across from her.

Wang Cheng was no longer recognizable as a human. His hair was disheveled, his face was covered in bruises, his official robes had been stripped off, leaving him only in a thin shirt, and he was shivering. The only sounds in the dungeon were the crackling of the oil lamp and his heavy breathing.

"Commander Wang," Li Ruolian said calmly, "Speak. From which year did you start receiving a salary without working?"

Wang Cheng's lips trembled, and he couldn't speak for a long time.

Li Ruolian wasn't in a hurry. She picked up her teacup and slowly blew on the tea foam.

"The seventh year of the Tianqi reign..." Wang Cheng finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "At that time, the registered strength of the Beijing Garrison was 48,000, but in reality... in reality, there were only a little over 20,000."

"Who got the spare money?"

"I...I'll take thirty percent, and the rest...will be given to the Duke of Cheng's mansion, and...and to several officials in the Ministry of War..."

"List".

Li Ruolian pushed the paper and pen over.

Wang Cheng picked up the pen with trembling hands and began to write. He wrote a few names, his hand shaking so badly that ink splattered all over the paper.

The list is getting longer and longer.

The military commanders of the Beijing garrison, including lieutenant generals, captains, and battalion commanders... the senior officials and clerks of the Ministry of War... the residences of the Duke of Cheng, the Duke of Ding, and the Earl of Xiangcheng...

When one sheet of paper is full, another one is used.

As he finished writing, Wang Cheng suddenly stopped, looked up at Li Ruolian, his eyes filled with fear:

"Lord Li... I've said all this... Will I be able to live?"

Li Ruolian looked at him without saying a word.

After a long pause, he slowly said:

"His Majesty has decreed: those who voluntarily confess and return the embezzled funds will be spared the death penalty."

Wang Cheng's eyes lit up.

"But—" Li Ruolian changed the subject, "inciting unpaid wages and bewitching the army, you can't escape this charge."

Wang Cheng's face instantly turned ashen.

"However," Li Ruolian stood up, walked to him, leaned down, and whispered, "if you're willing to do one thing, I can plead for you—exile, not execution."

"W-What is it?"

"Identify Zhu Chunchen." Li Ruolian stared into his eyes, "In the court, in front of all the civil and military officials, accuse him of instigating you to incite a mutiny and attempt to force the emperor to abdicate."

Wang Cheng was startled.

Identifying Zhu Chunchen? In the imperial court?

That would be tantamount to making an enemy of the entire elite group. Even if he were exiled, how many days could he survive?

"You...you're trying to kill me!"

"If you don't do it, you'll die right now." Li Ruolian straightened up, her voice icy. "If you do it, you can at least live a few more days. If you're lucky, you can 'die of illness' on the way to exile and at least have a whole corpse."

He paused:

Choose.

Wang Cheng slumped in the chair, his eyes vacant.

After a long while, he burst into a hoarse laugh, laughing until tears streamed down his face:

"Okay...okay...I'll identify...I'll identify..."

Li Ruolian nodded, gesturing to the jailer:

"Take him away. Keep a close watch on him, don't let him die."

"yes!"

After Wang Cheng was dragged away, Li Ruolian picked up the two pieces of paper covered with names and examined them closely under the oil lamp.

The flickering lights reflected on his cold, stern face.

He knew that once this list was submitted, the landscape of the capital would change.

But if things don't change, the Ming Dynasty will truly perish.

He put away the list, turned around, and walked out of the dungeon.

Outside the door, the night was as dark as ink.

Inside the Beijing garrison camp, the lights were on. The soldiers, having received their rations, were cooking in small groups, the aroma of rice mingling with the cooking smoke, drifting in the night breeze.

In the distance, the silhouette of the Forbidden City stands majestically against the night sky.

Li Ruolian looked in that direction and took a deep breath.

Your Majesty, the sword has been sharpened.

It's time to draw blood.

At the same time, in the West Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.

Li Ce stood by the window, toying with a jade thumb ring in his hand.

The thumb ring was just delivered; it was evidence presented by the Northern Garrison Command—found on Hun Hailong's person. It was engraved with the character "Shen" in small seal script, neat and exquisite.

The mark of the Shen family of Jiangnan.

Wang Chengen entered quietly and whispered:

"Your Majesty, Li Tongzhi requests an audience."

"Announce."

Li Ruolian entered the hall, bowed, and stood up. Her face showed signs of fatigue, but her eyes were bright.

"Your Majesty, Hun Hailong has confessed."

"explain."

"Shen Maocai gave him 30,000 taels of silver to rob and kill grain ships. After the deed was done, he would give him another 20,000 taels." Li Ruolian spoke quickly. "Hun Hailong also revealed that Shen Maocai's strongholds in the capital, in addition to the silk shop he openly owned, also included three hidden locations—'Fulai Inn' outside Andingmen, 'Zhang's Pawnshop' at Dongsi Archway, and 'Liu's Pharmacy' inside Xizhimen."

Li Ce nodded: "Where are they?"

"I have already sent men to surround the area. But..." Li Ruolian paused, "The manager of 'Fulai Inn' committed suicide by poisoning himself an hour ago. The accountant of 'Zhang's Pawnshop' has escaped, and only two employees have been captured. Doctor Liu of 'Liu's Pharmacy'... is a retired imperial physician from the Imperial Hospital, and he has connections with several eunuchs in the palace."

Li Ce's eyes turned cold.

In the palace?

The Shen family's reach is so far?

"Investigate," he said, uttering only one word.

"Yes," Li Ruolian replied, then added, "Also, regarding the Beijing garrison... General Zhang has made his move."

He gave a brief report on the situation at Zuoye Camp.

After listening, Li Ce remained silent for a moment:

"Zhang Weixian did the right thing. I can't sleep if the Beijing Garrison isn't cleaned properly."

He turned around and looked at Li Ruolian:

"Put aside what you're doing for now. Go to the Military Law Office of the Beijing Garrison and personally interrogate Wang Cheng. Ask me about every single case of how many people Zhu Chunchen, Xu Yunzhen, and Li Guozhen have smuggled into the Beijing Garrison over the years, how much silver they've embezzled, and how much military equipment they've resold."

Li Ruolian felt a chill run down her spine.

This is serious. Not only will they target the Beijing Garrison, but they'll also follow the trail and wipe out all the nobles behind them.

"I obey your decree."

After Li Ruolian left, Li Ce stood alone by the window, remaining motionless for a long time.

The autumn moonlight shone through the window, casting a half-light, half-shadow on his face.

He knew that from this day forward, the real bloodshed was just beginning.

The purge of the Beijing garrison was just the first step.

Next, it will be Jiangnan, then Liaodong, and then the deeply entrenched forces in the imperial court.

But the grain had already been delivered to Beijing.

With grain in hand, the people's hearts are half at ease. Only with the people's hearts at ease can he free up his hands to remove these malignant tumors one by one.

Outside the window, the night was deepening.

The moonlight shone like water on the glazed tiles of the Qianqing Palace.

October 15th, early morning of the Yin hour.

Outside the Duke of Cheng's mansion, Zhou Yuji's two thousand soldiers had surrounded the mansion three times.

Torches blazed brightly, and armor stood in stark contrast.

The mansion was deathly silent. The vermilion gates were tightly shut, and not a single ray of light could seep through the cracks, making it resemble a huge, silent tomb.

Zhou Yuji sat on his horse, staring at the door with no expression on his face.

He recalled what His Majesty had said to him three days earlier in the Qianqing Palace:

"General Zhou, in this game of chess in the capital, I need a piece to stabilize the game. Go to Tianjin to collect the grain, and then escort it back to the capital garrison. Finally... keep an eye on the Duke of Cheng's mansion for me."

"How long do you want to watch?"

"Until I issue an edict."

The decree has not yet arrived.

But Zhou Yuji knew it was coming soon.

At the same time, in the East Warm Pavilion of the Duke of Cheng's Mansion.

Zhu Chunchen did not sleep.

He was dressed in casual clothes, sitting in a grand chair, holding a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. A thin film of oil had formed on the surface of the tea, giving it an eerie glow in the candlelight.

On the table lay an account book—his private account of embezzling salaries and reselling military equipment during his years in the Beijing garrison. It had originally been hidden in a secret compartment in his study, but half an hour ago, he had personally taken it out and was flipping through it page by page.

With each page turned, my heart sank a little deeper.

In the seventh year of the Tianqi reign, 30,000 taels of silver were confiscated.

In the first year of the Chongzhen reign, 50,000 taels of silver were allocated.

In the eighth year of the Chongzhen reign, 100,000 taels of silver...

Over the course of fifteen years, the amount of silver he embezzled exceeded 800,000 taels. This doesn't even include the antiques, paintings, calligraphy, and land deeds.

How many heads can that be chopped off?

Zhu Chunchen put down the account book and suddenly smiled.

His laughter was desolate.

He recalled his father's dying words: "Chunchen, this title of our family was bestowed by Emperor Chengzu. 'Sharing the fate of the nation' means being loyal to the emperor and serving the country, not... not leeching off the dynasty."

He knelt before the bed, vowing, "Your son understands."

But now?

He not only sucks blood, but also wants to devour the flesh of the dynasty.

The door was gently pushed open.

The old butler came in; he had been with him for forty years, his hair was completely white, and his back was hunched.

"My lord," the old steward's voice trembled, "the area outside the manor... is completely surrounded. It's Zhou Yuji's soldiers, who claim they're here to 'protect' us by imperial decree."

"I understand." Zhu Chunchen waved his hand. "Go and rest."

"My lord..." the old steward hesitated, "How about... we go through the secret passage..."

"A secret passage?" Zhu Chunchen looked up at him. "The Embroidered Uniform Guards must already be guarding the other end of the passage. Who is Li Ruolian? Would he leave such a loophole?"

The old butler lowered his head and said nothing more.

"You've been with me for forty years," Zhu Chunchen said softly. "How have I treated you all these years?"

"The Duke's kindness to this old servant is as heavy as a mountain."

"Then do me one last thing." Zhu Chunchen took out a bunch of keys from his pocket. "Go to the storeroom and take out the pair of jade discs from the previous dynasty."

"Give another five thousand taels of silver and distribute them among the servants in the mansion. Those who wish to leave should quietly depart through the back door before dawn. Those who do not wish to leave... may stay."

The old steward took the keys, tears streaming down his face: "My lord..."

"Go."

After the old steward left, Zhu Chunchen picked up the account book again, walked to the charcoal brazier, tore off the pages one by one, and threw them into the fire.

Flames leaped up, engulfing the numbers, the names, and the sordid transactions.

The firelight illuminated his aged face, flickering between light and shadow.

He recalled what Shen Maocai had said to him three days ago:

"Duke Cheng, the Emperor is trying to cut off everyone's livelihood. Today it's Zhou Yanru, tomorrow it's you, and the day after tomorrow it's the gentry of Jiangnan and the military families of the nine border regions. If we don't join forces, we'll be wiped out one by one sooner or later."

He believed it at the time.

But now that I think about it, who was behind Shen Maocai? It was those gentry in Jiangnan who only wanted to protect their own family businesses. And what about Zhu Chunchen? He was a Duke of the Ming Dynasty, whose family had received the emperor's favor for generations.

join forces?

In the end, they're nothing more than pawns in someone else's game.

The fire in the charcoal brazier gradually died down.

The account books were burned, leaving only a clump of grayish-white embers.

Zhu Chunchen stood up and walked to the window.

The sky was already beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

Dawn broke on October 15th.

But will the dawn of his Duke Chengguo's mansion ever come?

At the beginning of Chen Shi (7-9 AM), in Qianqing Palace.

early morning.

Civil and military officials lined up on both sides, creating a somber atmosphere.

On the dragon throne, Li Ce, dressed in a bright yellow casual robe, had no expression on his face as his gaze slowly swept across the hall.

"My lords," he said calmly, "the grain has already entered the capital. The soldiers in the capital garrison have also had their fill of food."

The hall was completely silent.

"But some people are unhappy," Li Ce continued. "Some people feel that I shouldn't transport grain, shouldn't pay salaries, shouldn't... touch their livelihoods."

He paused, his gaze falling on the front of the procession of nobles—where Duke Cheng, Zhu Chunchen, should have stood, but it was empty.

"Did the Duke of Cheng take leave today?" Li Ce asked.

No one answered.

"Then I will speak for him." Li Ce picked up a memorial from the imperial desk. "This is the confession of Wang Cheng, the Left Wing Commander of the Capital Garrison. It is clearly written that on the night of October 11, Duke Zhu Chunchen of Cheng summoned him to his residence, promised him 50,000 taels of silver, and ordered him to incite a mutiny and create chaos on the day the grain carts entered the camp."

A collective gasp filled the hall.

"Where's the evidence?" an old voice rang out.

The speaker was Duke Dingguo, Xu Yunzhen, who was over sixty years old, with white hair and beard, and his face was ashen at the moment.

"Does the Duke of Dingguo want evidence?" Li Ce looked at him. "Alright."

He waved his hand.

Wang Chengen stepped forward with a wooden box in his hand, opened it, and inside were three account books.

"This is a private account retrieved from a secret compartment in the study of the Duke of Cheng's mansion," Li Ce said. "It records every single detail of Zhu Chunchen's activities from the seventh year of the Tianqi reign to the present, including receiving salaries without working in the Beijing garrison, reselling military equipment, and accepting bribes from generals. The total amount is 837,000 taels."

Xu Yunzhen's face turned deathly pale.

"And another thing," Li Ce added, "Hun Hailong confessed that Shen Maocai of Jiangnan gave him 30,000 taels of silver to rob and kill grain ships. The accounts also record the money transactions between Shen Maocai and Zhu Chunchen—on October 3, he received 30,000 taels of silver notes from Shen Maocai, with the note 'Maritime Deposit'."

He stood up and walked down the steps:

"Disrupting the Grand Canal, robbing maritime transport, inciting mutiny, hoarding grain for speculation, colluding with pirates, plotting rebellion—Duke Xu, tell me, are these charges sufficient for me to punish him?"

Xu Yunzhen's lips trembled, and he couldn't speak.

Li Ce stopped looking at him and turned to face the officials:

"I know that many of you have dealings with Zhu Chunchen. You have received money from him, done things for him, and covered up his crimes."

His voice suddenly turned cold:

"I will give you three days. Within three days, voluntarily go to the Censorate to confess and return the embezzled funds, and I will let bygones be bygones. Three days later—"

He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"My sword does not discriminate."

The hall was deathly silent.

Only the mournful sound of the autumn wind blowing through the palace gate could be heard.

At noon, the gates of the Duke of Cheng's mansion slowly opened.

Zhu Chunchen, dressed in the official robes of a duke and with a jade belt at his waist, walked out of the mansion alone.

Outside the gate, Zhou Yuji's soldiers stood at attention, their swords and spears like a forest.

"General Zhou," Zhu Chunchen said, clasping his hands in greeting, "please lead the way."

Zhou Yuji looked at him, remained silent for a moment, then stepped aside to make way for him: "My lord, please."

Two rows of soldiers stepped forward, surrounded Zhu Chunchen, and headed towards the North Garrison Command.

People gathered to watch from the street.

Some people pointed and whispered, while others murmured, but no one dared to speak loudly.

Zhu Chunchen walked steadily, his back straight, and even had his usual reserved smile on his face.

It was as if he wasn't going to prison, but to a banquet.

When he reached the middle of Chang'an Avenue, he suddenly stopped and looked up towards the Forbidden City.

The autumn sky was clear and cloudless.

The golden sunlight shone on the glazed tiles, so dazzling that it was hard to open one's eyes.

"Your Majesty," he murmured to himself, "you have won this round."

"But can the Ming Dynasty really win?"

He smiled and continued walking forward.

His silhouette stretched long in the autumn sun, like an old tree withering away.

At 1-3 PM, the Northern Garrison Command's prison was opened.

Li Ruolian stood outside the prison gate, looking at Zhu Chunchen sitting upright inside.

"Duke Cheng," he began, "His Majesty has decreed that you may write down your thoughts."

Zhu Chunchen looked up at him: "Li Tongzhi, may I see His Majesty one last time?"

His Majesty said, "No need."

Zhu Chunchen was silent for a moment, then smiled: "Very well. I don't know what to say if I see him."

He paused, then suddenly asked, "Wang Cheng... is he still alive?"

"He's alive," Li Ruolian said. "His Majesty wants him to testify in court three days later."

"Testify?" Zhu Chunchen shook his head. "Testify about what? Do I need him to testify about what I did?"

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it out of the cell door: "This is a list of the people I've placed in the Beijing garrison over the years, as well as their accomplices in the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue. There are seventy-three people in total."

Li Ruolian took it, glanced at it, and felt a slight tremor in her heart.

The list was very detailed, clearly showing names, official titles, when money was received, and what was done.

"With this, it will be easier for Your Majesty to purge the capital garrison," Zhu Chunchen said softly. "Consider it my... final duty as a subject."

Li Ruolian looked at him for a long time before finally asking, "Why did you do this, Your Excellency?"

"Why?" Zhu Chunchen laughed, a desolate laugh. "Because I suddenly realized—the two hundred years of titles held by my Zhu family were not given by the gentry of Jiangnan, nor by the merchants of Shanxi, but were earned by our ancestors through blood, sweat, and tears, with loyalty to the emperor and the country."

"I've taken the wrong path all these years."

He stood up, walked to the cell window, and gazed at the small patch of sky outside:

"Li Tongzhi, please convey a message to His Majesty."

"explain."

"So..." Zhu Chunchen paused, "Your Majesty, I thank you for preserving the dignity of the Duke of Cheng's mansion. My son is being exiled to Qiongzhou. If he survives, I beg Your Majesty... to allow them to live as ordinary citizens, and never again to touch power or money."

Li Ruolian nodded silently.

"And another thing," Zhu Chunchen turned to look at him, "Zhao Qichang of Jiangnan... Your Majesty must be careful. That man... is ten times more dangerous than Zhou Yanru."

After saying that, he fell silent, sat back down on the straw mat, and closed his eyes.

Li Ruolian gave him a deep look, then turned and left.

The cell door was locked again.

Zhu Chunchen sat alone in the darkness, listening to the faint sound of the watchman's drum in the distance.

One, two...

Like the heartbeat of this era.

It's faint, but it's still beating.

At the hour of Xu (7-9 PM), in the Qianqing Palace.

Li Ce finished reading Zhu Chunchen's list.

Seventy-three people were spread across the Beijing Garrison, the Ministry of War, the Ministry of Revenue, and even two were in the Five Military Commands.

He picked up his vermilion pen and wrote two words on the list:

"According to the law."

Then he handed it to Wang Chengen: "Give it to Zhang Weixian. Tell him that everyone on the list must be accounted for."

"Yes."

Wang Chengen took the list, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Your Majesty, what about Zhu Chunchen...?"

"Give him a white silk noose." Li Ce's voice was calm. "He shall be allowed to leave with his body intact. His son shall be exiled to Qiongzhou, his female relatives shall be confiscated as government slaves, and his servants shall be sold off."

"This servant obeys the decree."

After Wang Chengen withdrew, Li Ce stood alone in front of the huge "Complete Map of the Ming Dynasty", his finger slowly sliding from Beijing to Nanjing.

Jiangnan.

Zhao Qichang.

Shen family.

Prince Fu.

"Unite with the barbarians to quell the rebellion"...

He recalled his past life, the faces of those scholar-officials kneeling before the Qing army and presenting their surrender documents when Nanjing fell.

I recall Shi Kefa's bloody battle at Yangzhou, while the salt merchants of Jiangnan indulged in nightly revelry on the Qinhuai River.

I recall that phrase etched into my bones:

"The most righteous are often the lowly butchers, while the most ungrateful are often the scholars."

In this lifetime, he will make those words a thing of the past.

"His Majesty."

Li Ruolian's voice came from behind.

Li Ce turned around: "Speak."

"Before his death, Zhu Chunchen asked me to convey a message: Zhao Qichang in Jiangnan is ten times more dangerous than Zhou Yanru."

Li Ce smiled.

"He does see things clearly." He walked to the imperial desk, picked up a vermilion brush, wrote a few words on a blank piece of yellow silk, and handed it to Li Ruolian:

"Send this to Han Zanzhou in Nanjing by express courier, six hundred li away."

Li Ruolian took the yellow silk, unfolded it, and saw only eight characters on it:

"The net can be used, but the fish must be alive."

His heart skipped a beat: "Your Majesty, isn't it too early to close the net now? Zhao Qichang's henchmen haven't been identified yet..."

"It's impossible to find out." Li Ce shook his head. "The gentry in Jiangnan have been deeply entrenched for two hundred years. How could it be investigated in just a few days? What I want is not to wipe them all out in one fell swoop."

He paused:

"What I want is to make an example of someone."

Li Ruolian understood.

Zhao Qichang was that chicken.

The gentry of Jiangnan are like monkeys.

"I understand." He bowed. "I will take care of it immediately."

"Wait a minute," Li Ce called out to him, "What's going on with Li Banghua?"

Li Ruolian's expression turned serious: "After the morning court session this morning, Lord Li returned to his residence and remained inside. However, an hour ago, someone quietly left through the back gate of his residence, heading towards the Embroidered Uniform Guard headquarters. On the way... they disappeared in Tofu Alley."

"Missing?" Li Ce's eyes turned cold.

"Yes. The night watchman witnessed a brief fight in the alley. By the time the patrolling soldiers arrived, the people were gone, and there was only blood in the corner of the wall."

Li Ce was silent for a moment, then slowly said:

"Zhao Qichang... has made his move."

He looked out the window.

The night was as dark as ink, and the stars and moon were without light.

A thunderous event that will sweep across Jiangnan and the imperial court is finally about to explode.

The fuse was already burning.

October 15th, night.

The Duke of Cheng's mansion was sealed off; the plaque was removed, and cross-shaped seals were affixed to the main gate.

Zhu Chunchen drank poison in prison and, before dying, faced south and kowtowed three times.

The price of grain in the capital city has stabilized at one tael and two mace per shi (a unit of dry measure).

People lined up to buy grain, and smiles appeared on their faces.

The yamen runners of Shuntian Prefecture beat gongs and announced along the street:

"The Emperor has decreed: Stabilize grain prices and provide relief to disaster victims! Those who hoard grain will be punished, with the Duke of Cheng as an example!"

The sound carried far, far away on the night wind.

The lights in the Qianqing Palace stayed on all night.

Li Ce sat behind his desk, reviewing the reports sent from various regions with his vermilion pen until dawn.

He knew he had won this purge of the Beijing garrison.

But the real war has only just begun.

The gentry of Jiangnan, the border generals of Liaodong, the undercurrents of the imperial court...

Everywhere is a battlefield.

And he had to win.

Because this time, he cannot afford to lose again.

One loss can mean utter ruin.

One defeat could mean the destruction of our nation.

One defeat and China will be destroyed.

He can't afford to lose.

The Ming Dynasty cannot afford to lose either.