Chapter 158: The Death-Courting Prince of Fu, Zhu Changxun (3k-character chapter, first update)

"Officers and guards flout the law, running rampant through Luoyang; eunuch agents are dispatched everywhere, seizing commoners under imperial warrant, beating tenant farmers to death — wherever they go, they stir chaos."

A mere twenty-four characters, yet what Chongzhen saw in them was just how untouchable this Imperial Uncle Prince of Fu was in Luoyang, how swaggering his might, and how desperately he wanted to help those grandsons of the Donglin hang him, Chongzhen, from a tree!

In his previous life, Chongzhen had been a shut-in programmer, but for a programmer, as long as there's internet, how many things they want to know can't be looked up?

"The Prince was grossly fat, weighing over three hundred jin.

The bandits laid out a great feast, made the Prince into minced meat, mixed it with deer flesh and ate it, calling it 'Fortune-and-Luck Wine.'" That is the record in A Brief Account of the Late Ming North, written by the Qing-dynasty literatus Ji Liuqi.

"Two household stewards threw themselves on the corpse and wept; the bandits seized them and dragged them away.

The stewards cried out: 'Our Prince is dead, we have no wish to live. We beg but a single coffin to gather our Prince's bones — then we shall be ground to dust without regret.' The bandits, deeming them righteous, granted their wish.

A paulownia-wood coffin, barely an inch thick, was carted away on a broken wagon." That is the record in the History of the Ming, compiled by the Qing.

Which of these two accounts is credible — that is something utterly impossible to verify.

No one of later generations lived in that time, and as for anything produced by the Qing, the Chongzhen Emperor in his previous life had always regarded it as so much fart, shunning it as though afraid of being splattered.

Yet even if both accounts are pure nonsense, one thing is certain: this Imperial Uncle of his, Prince of Fu Zhu Changxun, was hacked to death with a single blade when Li Zicheng breached Luoyang.

The crux of the matter is this: you getting hacked to death is one thing, but the money you hauled back couldn't even fill your grave — instead it let that delivery-boy pick up a bargain, forcing Us to hang Ourself from a tree, goddammit!

As for just how rich this Prince of Fu was?

The transmigrated Chongzhen had read the relevant records — for instance, that Prince of Fu Zhu Changxun, in the fortieth year of Wanli, was already twenty-seven and still hadn't left for his fief.

And when he finally departed for his fief in the spring of the following year, his mother, Noble Consort Zheng, opened her mouth and grabbed another colossal haul.

Just how colossal was this haul?

First: four hundred thousand mu of manorial estate land.

Second: the confiscated wealth and properties of Zhang Juzheng — whatever still remained in official hands was transferred to the Prince of Fu's household.

Third: all sundry taxes along the Yangtze from Yangzhou to Taiping in Anhui were transferred to the Prince of Fu's household.

Fourth: a portion of the revenue from the Sichuan salt wells was assigned to the Prince of Fu's household.

Fifth: a grant of one thousand three hundred salt certificates for Huai salt.

See that? Having a badass mother is just the best.

Even though the first item, because the court officials of the time fought to the death over it, ultimately wasn't granted in full at four hundred thousand mu, it "still had to be two hundred thousand mu — and when the rich soil of the Central Plain proved insufficient, the finest fields of Shandong and Huguang were seized to make up the shortfall."

See that? The man merely left for his fief and got two hundred thousand mu of prime farmland, and goddamn it, not even all in one place.

He dragged it out until there was no more dragging to be done — he'd even used the excuse of the Empress Dowager Li's seventieth birthday.

Perhaps the Empress Dowager Li truly could no longer bear the sight of Zhu Changxun's bloated fat face, because she didn't even wait for her seventieth birthday, just went straight off to hang herself and meet the late emperor.

Left with no choice, Zhu Changxun finally began his journey to his fief.

According to the records, in the second month of the forty-second year of Wanli, Zhu Changxun departed for his fief at Luoyang bearing countless gold, silver, and treasures, his procession stretching over a hundred li from front to back!

Of course, all that was the dogshit business of the previous generation of old emperors. Chongzhen indicated that he was utterly helpless in the matter, unable to do a thing about those big shots. But now? Imperial Uncle Prince of Fu had well and truly walked right into the muzzle of the gun!

Ever since the family banquet in the first year of Chongzhen, this Imperial Uncle Prince of Fu had actually behaved himself in Luoyang for a stretch.

A pity good times never last — barely a few months had passed, and he'd once again embarked on his delightfully suicidal life, grabbing and plundering with abandon.

Truth be told, Chongzhen really wanted to drag the Prince of Fu before him and ask: what are you amassing all that money for? To fill your grave?

Say you had even a shred of ambition — with all that money, you could've raised a band of sworn assassins, secretly stockpiled arms and armor, plotted a rebellion, fought me for the throne. We might've even thought a little better of you, no?

But no — when it comes to the common folk of your fief, you act like the biggest bull around, yet the moment the truly badass delivery boy showed up, you just dropped to your knees!

After mulling it over and over, thoroughly pissed off no matter how he looked at it, Chongzhen clutched the secret report in his hand. Ignoring the fact that it was already night, he ordered with a dark face: "Summon Wen Tiren, Shi Fenglai, Tian Ergeng, Xu Xianchun, and Wei Zhongxian to see Us."

When Wen Tiren and his party entered the palace and saw Chongzhen's face — so overcast it seemed water might drip from it — their hearts collectively lurched. Motherfucker, which blind fool had gone courting death and pissed off this lord again?

Chongzhen paid no heed to the expressions on Wen Tiren and the others' faces. He simply flung the secret report in his hand onto the floor and said in a heavy voice: "All of you, take a look. After you've read it, tell Us — what is to be done about this Imperial Uncle Prince of Fu of Ours?"

Wen Tiren, however, made no effort to maintain his dignity as Chief Grand Secretary. This lord had already done something utterly unprecedented — flinging a memorial onto the floor — which could only mean the Emperor was now enraged beyond measure.

What dignity was there left to maintain? The urgent task was to hurry up, pick it up, and see what in the world this was all about.

But after Wen Tiren picked up the secret report and finished reading it, his expression turned peculiar as he passed it to Shi Fenglai. Once the whole circle had read it, every face bore the same peculiar look — this Prince of Fu truly had no idea what it meant to court death!

Seeing that all had read the secret report, Chongzhen gave a cold laugh and said: "The great drought in the west has yet to pass. Every day We burn with anxiety, yet this Imperial Uncle Prince of Fu of Ours is having himself a grand old time in Luoyang!"

Wen Tiren cursed the Prince of Fu inwardly for not knowing when death was at hand, but what could he do? This was, after all, a matter of the imperial family.

Even though the Emperor's intent was plain — he wanted the few of them to take the lead and hammer the Prince of Fu to death — how was he supposed to phrase it? Should he just come right out and say the Prince of Fu was arrogant and unfit to serve the ancestral temple?

Could he even bear the weight of a charge of sowing discord within the imperial family?

After racking his brains and coming up with no solution, Wen Tiren decided to go along with the Emperor's wishes first. The Emperor had fished him out of the Imperial Prison precisely to do this sort of dirty work.

Having made his peace with that, Wen Tiren gritted his teeth, bowed, and said: "Your Majesty, I memorialize: His Highness the Prince of Fu acts with arrogance, harming the people, contravening the August Emperor Taizu's intent to cherish the people.

This constitutes great unfiliality, rendering him unfit to serve the ancestral temple. This minister believes he should be arrested and brought to the capital for investigation and punishment."

Shi Fenglai also said: "This minister seconds the proposal. His Highness the Prince of Fu's conduct within his fief are acts that shake the very foundation of the state.

Moreover, beating tenant farmers to death is a grave crime and cannot be lightly forgiven. As the saying goes, 'official oppression drives the people to revolt'; if a prince's oppression drives the people to revolt, then the whole realm will be thrown into turmoil.

This minister believes the Prince of Fu should be arrested and brought to the capital, and his title stripped."

Shi Fenglai's words went a step further than Wen Tiren's.

In any case, the Emperor was surely displeased with the Prince of Fu — to say nothing else, the Emperor's own father, Zhu Changluo, because he was less favored by the Shenzong Emperor Zhu Yijun than the Prince of Fu Zhu Changxun, had suffered indignities at every turn and had nearly failed to hold onto his position as heir.

As for the Guangzong Emperor's two sons — the late Tianqi Emperor had been neglected into becoming the Carpenter Emperor, and the reigning Son of Heaven had been wronged even more grievously.

Had it not been for the loving protection of the late Tianqi Emperor, whether the current Emperor could have even ascended the throne was an open question.

Given all these reasons, in Shi Fenglai's view, even leaving aside the reigning Son of Heaven's vengeful, grudge-holding nature, even a milquetoast wouldn't be able to hold back! Now that such a perfect opportunity had presented itself, why not seize the moment and hammer the Prince of Fu to death?

As for Tian Ergeng and Xu Xianchun, both kept their heads lowered and said nothing. They were merely the Emperor's blades, and a blade must not have thoughts of its own. Wei Zhongxian, however, bowed and said: "Your Majesty, this slave has a few words to say."

Chongzhen glanced curiously at Wei Zhongxian, who, though he had been diligently handling his duties of late, had been playing deaf and mute all the while. What did this old thing have to say now? He said: "Speak."

Wei Zhongxian bowed and said: "When the late Emperor was still with us, this slave held charge of the Eastern Depot.

At that time, the Prince of Fu often spoke wild and insolent words — not only insulting the late Emperor, but his speech regarding the Guangzong Emperor was also frequently laced with disrespect."

At this point, Wei Zhongxian dropped to his knees and kowtowed, saying: "His Highness the Prince of Fu often complained that the Shenzong Emperor should not have made the Guangzong Emperor Crown Prince, saying that he himself should have been made Crown Prince from the start — that this imperial throne should rightfully belong to His Highness the Prince of Fu, and that the Guangzong Emperor and the late Emperor were merely usurpers who stole the great treasure."

Hearing Wei Zhongxian so casually drive a knife into the Prince of Fu, Chongzhen inwardly exclaimed: Holy shit! This dead eunuch is ruthless enough.

Whether the Prince of Fu had ever actually spouted such crap, no one could know for sure. But Wei Zhongxian had been in charge of the Eastern Depot at the time — if he said it happened, then it most certainly did.

It was likely that some minor eunuch in the Prince of Fu's household had been an Eastern Depot agent, and this minor eunuch just so happened, on a certain day of a certain month of a certain year, to have heard the Prince of Fu utter these treasonous words!

But Chongzhen felt that this knife of Wei Zhongxian's had been driven in beautifully, exquisitely! A mere charge of harming the people and acting with arrogance would be hard-pressed to wipe out the Prince of Fu's entire line outright.

But by leveraging the two charges of "harboring resentment and discontent" and "plotting treason," crushing the Prince of Fu to death when the time came would be far easier.

Inwardly delighted, Chongzhen nonetheless said aloud: "Zhongxian, do you understand the consequences of saying such things? Are there witnesses?"

Wei Zhongxian kowtowed again and said: "Reporting to His Majesty, there are witnesses. The minor eunuch the Eastern Depot dispatched to serve the Prince of Fu back then is still on duty in the Prince of Fu's residence to this day — a single inquiry will confirm it.

The Prince of Fu's personal bodyguards can also testify."

Chongzhen gave an "Mm," and said flatly: "Rise."

After Wei Zhongxian had scrambled up from the floor, Chongzhen turned to Wen Tiren and said: "If that is the case, how then should the matter of Imperial Uncle Prince of Fu be handled?"

Wen Tiren bowed and said: "Your Majesty, I memorialize: the Prince of Fu should be stripped of his title and punished for his crimes. However, the Prince of Fu is, after all, an imperial kinsman.

Would it not be proper to summon the Director of the Imperial Clan Court, along with the Left and Right Vice Directors, to inquire?"

Chongzhen inwardly exclaimed: Holy shit. He really was a historical ignoramus — there was still so much he didn't know. He'd originally thought the Imperial Clan Court was a Qing-dynasty institution; so it had already existed back in the Great Ming.

Since there was an Imperial Clan Court, the matter became much simpler. Chongzhen asked directly: "Who currently holds the post of Director of the Imperial Clan Court? Who are the Left and Right Vice Directors?"

Wen Tiren bowed and said: "Your Majesty, I report: the post of Director of the Imperial Clan Court is currently held concurrently by Meng Shaoyu, Minister of the Ministry of Rites. The Left and Right Vice Directors are held concurrently by the Left and Right Vice Ministers of the Ministry of Rites."

Motherfucker. Chongzhen cursed inwardly. The family affairs of the imperial house, placed under the management of these civil officials — just thinking about it was goddamn infuriating. Forget it, forget it. Whatever the case, hammering the Prince of Fu to death came first.

Lord of War isn't really an American film, because its funding came almost entirely from overseas. This movie, whose production was backed by international anti-arms-smuggling organizations, actually received support during filming from a great many international arms dealers.

An-12 transport planes, three thousand Chinese-made Type 56 submachine guns, Hind attack helicopters, large numbers of tanks... now that is the highest realm of product placement.

Actually, we even saw those weapons after the movie finished filming. Seriously — on TV, during the takedown of Kadafi. Those weapons were quickly resold to countries like Libya right after filming wrapped.

You thought Lord of War was an educational film? Wrong — it was a commercial.

(End of chapter)