Heaven creates all things to nourish man.

Zhang Xianzhong sat cross-legged on the ground, a horizontal saber resting across his lap.

He held a short blade in his hand, slicing strips of meat from the campfire in front of him and shoving them into his mouth to chew.

The flickering firelight cast an obscure and shifting glow over his face.

Yet even in such circumstances, one could still perceive his chilling, hate-filled gaze.

A few days ago.

He had made another trip to Xi'an Prefecture.

There, he had seen the refugees who had fled from Yan'an Prefecture.

The refugees knelt on the ground in droves, merely wishing to enter the city to beg for a bite to eat, but the city guards denied them even a sliver of survival, driving them out and slaughtering them.

That alone might have been the end of it.

Yet Zhang Xianzhong happened to see, within the prefectural city, the estate of the Prince of Qin of the Great Ming Dynasty—a residence that appeared far more extravagant and opulent than the imperial palace of legend.

The servants emerging from within, adorned in glossy garments and wearing looks of supreme arrogance, formed a jarring contrast with the skin-and-bones refugees outside the city walls.

The grievance lay not in poverty, but in inequality.

This comparison dealt yet another heavy blow to Zhang Xianzhong’s already fragile psyche.

This was no longer a matter of fairness; it was purely a question of whether they were even treated as human beings.

Why, when all were born human,

should some be able to spend their entire lives without doing a single day of work while enjoying boundless wealth and glory?

Why should others toil from dawn till dusk, facing the earth with their backs to the sky their entire lives, only to end up starved to death?

Why were some people so wealthy that their grain was piled as high as mountains,

yet they remained unwilling to bestow even the smallest fraction of it upon the poor to save their lives?

Why?!

Zhang Xianzhong could not fathom it, and a phrase unbidden arose in his heart:

Heaven birthed all things to nourish man, yet man possesses not a single virtue to repay Heaven!!

Meanwhile.

Harboring this hatred, Zhang Xianzhong sought out Wang Er once more and conversed with him throughout the night.

Wang Er told him that he had already secretly rallied a group of men.

In a few days' time, he intended to lead the masses directly into the county yamen, slay the officials, and instigate a rebellion!

Counting the days.

At most ten days, at the very least five, Wang Er’s faction would likely make their move.

Under the current circumstances, as long as a single person raised the banner, uprisings would break out one after another across the entirety of northern Shaanxi.

At this, Zhang Xianzhong was immensely excited.

Once chaos erupted everywhere, he would take advantage of the turmoil to raid and slaughter the gentry, wealthy households, and officials within the cities.

He would skin those people alive and drink their blood...

Only by slaughtering them all could he vent the deep-seated hatred in his heart.

Fueled by this hatred, Zhang Xianzhong’s movements as he sliced the meat grew even more ferocious.

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!!!

......

Meanwhile.

Within the county seat of Tongguan.

Though it was already late into the night, Zhu Youjian had not yet retired, and was still attending to affairs of state.

Before long.

A Brocade Guard officer bowed as he entered the room to report: "Reporting to Your Majesty, the existing grain reserves of the gentry, wealthy households, and government offices within the city have all been fully tallied."

"Under the current circumstances, these reserves should suffice to feed the city's populace for about three months. If rations are rationed carefully, they might last half a year or even longer."

Hearing the report, Zhu Youjian nodded faintly, saying nothing more.

At dusk today.

Escorted by his guards, he had personally gone to inspect the farmlands in the suburbs, and upon returning, had meticulously perused the local gazetteers and agricultural records of the surrounding counties over recent years.

From these events and his understanding of natural laws,

Zhu Youjian keenly perceived that this drought, which had swept across the entirety of Shaanxi, would not end in the short term.

Perhaps it would persist for several more years, or even longer.

Yet present-day Shaanxi possessed not the slightest resilience against such risks.

In a place like Tongguan—a vital transportation choke point that had suffered the least damage—all grain reserves were only enough for three months; the situation in other regions could well be imagined.

Therefore, simply purging the officials and gentry of all Shaanxi would fall far short of saving the province.

Because Zhu Youjian had no way of conjuring such vast quantities of grain out of thin air.

At this thought, Zhu Youjian slowly turned his gaze to the border defense maps of the entire Shaanxi province.

After gazing at them for a moment, Zhu Youjian gave his instructions:

"Tomorrow, all forces shall rest for a single day. At the same time, dispatch messengers to command and supervise the authorities of the surrounding counties to grant those refugees a full seven-day ration, and let them rest for a day before immediately setting out to return to their native places."

"This subject obeys the decree."

A eunuch respectfully complied, immediately hurrying off to execute the order.

Having given these instructions, Zhu Youjian finally closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

......

The next day.

The capital.

While the Shaanxi Provincial Administration Commission was up to its ears in busyness from top to bottom, the capital had once again fallen into an eerie calm.

Yet this eerie calm was soon to be shattered.

Ever since the Emperor's departure, the various affairs of state in the capital still required handling—or at least, the outward appearance of handling them had to be maintained.

Thus, after much deliberation, everyone reached a consensus to hold a court assembly once every five days.

This arrangement benefited all parties.

Today happened to be the day for the once-every-five-days court assembly.

The reason why that eerie calm in the capital was about to be shattered

was that every single person present in the imperial court today could sense the undercurrents surging beneath the surface.

During the past few court assemblies,

the civil official faction and the Imperial Party had outwardly maintained a state of mutual non-interference.

But now, it seemed one of the two sides was about to initiate hostilities.

For the many officials outside both the civil official faction and the Imperial Party,

this struggle within the court held immense significance.

For not all officials belonged to the civil official faction or the Imperial Party; a very large proportion remained temporary neutrals.

Everyone understood that this was a life-and-death struggle between imperial power and the entrenched aristocratic clans.

Consequently, barring a tiny handful of individuals, everyone else had to choose a side to back.

Naturally,

choosing a side was not something where one decided on the previous night and immediately aligned oneself the next morning.

People had to be given some time to weigh the pros and cons.

This was the unwritten rule of officialdom.

However, if one failed to choose a faction even after this grace period, it was tantamount to waiting for death.

To give a most simple example.

During this recent period,

the Imperial Party had been promoting benevolent governance in the vicinity of the capital and widely recruiting artisans familiar with firearms, in accordance with the Emperor's edicts.

Yet the core of the Imperial Party numbered only a few dozen people.

Even if they worked themselves to death, it would be impossible to accomplish this task relying solely on the strength of those few dozens.

The lower-ranking operational officials truly responsible for execution were precisely the ones working while observing the situation during this time.

If the Imperial Party emerged victorious in this struggle,

then the approach would be simple: throw caution to the wind and push forward!

Conversely, if the civil official faction triumphed,

then apologies were due to the Imperial Party.

It was not a refusal to work.

Rather, it meant working slowly, delaying, handling things with excessive bureaucracy, and proceeding in an orderly fashion!

In short,

to act or not to act,

they had choices, but inaction was not among them.

On one side stood the civil official faction, which had dominated the heights of the Great Ming for a full century; on the other stood the newly forged Imperial Party, freshly gathered under the leadership of the Divine Martial Emperor.

Which of these two factions would prevail?

Amidst the oppressive and anxious moods of the assembly,

the eerie calm was finally shattered as the civil official faction struck the first blow.

A Censor of the Censorate stepped forward first, directly submitting a memorial impeaching Chen Xinjia, a key figure within the Imperial Party.

Of course, with the Emperor absent, impeachments carried no practical weight.

Yet this move by the civil official faction was intended to strike at the hearts of their opponents!