Chapter 20: The Wrath of Yingtian Prefecture

News of the fall of Qingyang City, along with six-tenths of the carefully selected gold and silver, mountains of incriminating account books, and an urgent eight-hundred-mile memorial personally written by Xu Da, were all sent to Yingtian Prefecture.

The night was deep and dark, yet the Fengtian Hall in the imperial palace burned brightly with light.

Zhu Yuanzhang sat on the dragon throne, leafing through Xu Da’s memorial. His expression was calm, as if reading an ordinary report. The memorial was detailed, recounting how Fan Tong fiercely debated with the Shanxi merchants, uncovered evidence of treason, the harrowing “Feast at Hongmen” in Datong Prefecture, and finally the brutal battle beneath the walls of Qingyang City.

When he came upon the evidence proving the Shanxi merchants colluded with the Yuan invaders, selling military grain and weapons, causing thousands of soldiers to barely escape death, his breathing remained steady without the slightest change.

He picked up a blood-stained indenture contract, slipped separately inside the memorial.

“...Borrowed three dou of grain, pledged my little daughter Chunhua, only seven years old, never to be redeemed...”

The handwriting was crooked and shaky, like a struggling earthworm.

Zhu Yuanzhang recalled his own childhood during the famine where corpses lay everywhere. He remembered having to separate from his family to become a monk at Huangjue Temple just to survive. He remembered the villagers driven to ruin by landlords and officials, forced to sell their sons and daughters.

“Crack—”

A crisp sound rang out as the hard rosewood imperial brush in his hand snapped into two.

A terrifying fury exploded from the chest of this commoner emperor, erupting into a roar that made the pillars of Fengtian Hall vibrate.

“Excellent! What a bunch of pillars of the state! While our soldiers bleed on the front lines, these beasts stab us in the back!”

“If we do not kill these vipers, how can I face the people of the realm? How can I face the spirits of the fallen soldiers?!”

The eunuchs and imperial guards outside the hall were struck speechless by this sudden thunderous rage, all dropping to their knees, trembling like fallen leaves in autumn wind.

The entire palace was sleepless that night.

The next morning’s court session.

The civil and military officials had just taken their places, still unprepared to shout their cheers, when Zhu Yuanzhang emerged from behind the throne, his face as dark as ink.

He did not sit down but gestured toward the hall’s entrance.

“Bring it up!”

Several trembling eunuchs carried a heavy wooden chest to the hall. Under the suspicious gazes of all officials, the chest was opened.

With a crash, Zhu Yuanzhang personally grabbed the account books, evidence, and blood contracts inside and slammed them violently onto the polished floor of the Golden Throne Hall!

Sheets of paper flew everywhere, scattered on the ground.

“Everyone, look carefully!” Zhu Yuanzhang’s voice was icy cold, “I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.