Chapter 1654: Breaking the Unwritten Rules

Letting Lu Duoxun become the first chancellor executed since the founding of the Great Han—these words, spoken by Emperor Liu, even if his tone was icy cold, came out lightly, as if carrying not a shred of burden.

But for the few people present at that moment, it felt like a thunderclap to the ears. Liu Yang raised his head slightly, casting a startled glance at Emperor Liu, then lowered it again, masking the bitterness on his face.

As for Gao Qiong, he seemed to have heard nothing, understood nothing, his eyes fixed straight on the sparse, yellowing grass, making eye contact with the insects and ants, yet inside, his heart was churning like waves.

In fact, when the Crown Prince had arrived, Gao Qiong had already wanted to take his leave, but unable to gauge Emperor Liu's mood, he dared not withdraw rashly. And the exchange between Emperor and Crown Prince could not be stopped from drilling into his ears all at once, impossible to block out.

When he heard Emperor Liu pronounce the death sentence on Lu Duoxun, even Gao Qiong's heart could not help but shudder. Gao Qiong was certainly not familiar with Lu Duoxun, had never even had any dealings with him, but that was after all a chancellor—the most powerful minister in the court besides Zhao Pu, openly and above board.

Yet with such status, such position, Emperor Liu would kill him just like that. Gao Qiong might lack literary cultivation, but he was not stupid—on the contrary, he was quite clever, possessed a certain political instinct, and had always been keen in his grasp of situations. Without that insight and decisiveness, he would never have grabbed the biggest piece of the cake back when the Shu rebellion broke out in Guanzhong, personally capturing the rebel leader Wang Shun—at that time, Gao Qiong had been nothing more than an insignificant County Defender of Zhouzhi.

And what made Gao Qiong's heart pound was precisely the potential impact of Lu Duoxun's execution. To be sure, the Great Han had never had a tradition of "the noble are exempt from punishment." Over the past thirty years, hundreds upon hundreds of officials had been executed for various crimes—but never a chancellor.

In most people's understanding, ascending the hall to become chancellor represented not only power and status, but also a halo of prestige, a rank set apart, something entirely different from ordinary ministers and bureaucrats.

Even if one made mistakes, or lost in political struggles, demotion and exile to the provinces was the way—that was how it had always been done in the past. Why must heads roll? The benevolence and forbearance that many advocated, the political maturity they pursued, was largely embodied in this.

Never mind that dozens of charges had been stacked against Lu Duoxun, with so many people attacking and impeaching him—most of them merely wanted to drag him down to seize political advantage. Those who truly wanted Lu Duoxun dead, there were probably very few.

Exiling Lu Duoxun from the capital, then leaving vacant the many positions occupied by the "Lu faction"—that result would satisfy most people. As for those who submitted memorials demanding Lu Duoxun's execution, they were either driven by deep personal grudges or were short-sighted fools lacking "awareness of the bigger picture."

But as things now stood, this unwritten rule formed over decades, this consensus reached by all the ministers and officials of the court, seemed about to be shattered. Even if this unwritten rule and consensus had been cultivated by Emperor Liu himself, deliberately or not, now, driven by accumulated grievances and various negative emotions pent up in his heart, he could not wait to vent them, to break it with his own hands, to set an example for the ministers and officials, to put a new tightening band around their heads.

Gao Qiong naturally could not think that deeply, but he could not help letting his imagination run wild—if a chancellor could be executed, then what about generals and marshals? In all these years of the Great Han, military law had disposed of large numbers of officers, but high-ranking generals and marshals had never been executed either—at most stripped of power and dismissed.

With this precedent set by Lu Duoxun, did it also mean that the generals and marshals were no longer safe?

Emperor Liu paid no attention to the reactions of those around him, and quickly reined in his imposing aura, asking calmly: "I hear Lu Yi is already dead?"

Upon the question, Liu Yang dared not be negligent. He sighed, his tone carrying a trace of pity: "Lu Yi passed away from illness ten days ago. However, up to now, his family has only made simple preparations for burial and set up a mourning hall—no one has come to pay their respects..."

Hearing this report, Emperor Liu's face showed no change of emotion, but his tone completely softened. He pondered for a moment, then said: "Lu Duoxun and his son were two completely different kinds of people. Lu Yi served the state loyally for over twenty years—even without great achievements, he had his share of toil. Now, in his declining years, he has passed away in loneliness and desolation. In my heart, I cannot bear it after all.

Lü Mengzheng's report on his behalf moves me all the more deeply—how could I not grant his wish? Very well then: let the Lu family servants escort the coffin out of the capital and return it to their hometown for burial. As for Lu Duoxun's family, there is no need to exile them to the frontiers—let them stay in their village and farm to support themselves!"

Hearing Emperor Liu say this, Liu Yang responded solemnly: "Yes!"

At the same time, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief. With Emperor Liu's arrangement, he had not gone too far after all, still preserving a shred of compassion. Of course, this was also thanks to Lu Yi's profound sense of righteousness.

"Lu Duoxun and his lot dared not act on their own—what about the others?" Emperor Liu asked.

"After these months of investigation and trial, results have come in one after another!"

"Speak plainly! How many people are to be killed?" Emperor Liu shot a glance at Liu Yang.

Liu Yang paused for a moment before slowly saying: "According to the judgment of the Three Judicial Offices, the final decision is that eighty-three people are sentenced to death; the rest, according to the severity of their crimes, are each sentenced to exile!"

Upon hearing this, Emperor Liu revealed a slight smile—but a dissatisfied one—and said flatly: "Too few!"

Then, under Liu Yang's somewhat horrified gaze, he gave his instruction: "At least two hundred people!"

The autumn wind of the eighth month was not so cold, even refreshing to the senses, yet when Emperor Liu uttered these words, it made one feel a bone-piercing chill. To so nakedly use the number of executed officials as a target—this was, truly, brutality.

Liu Yang opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to dissuade him, but seeing Emperor Liu's expression that brooked no argument, he had no choice but to suppress the worry in his heart.

Emperor Liu paid no heed to Liu Yang's thoughts, speaking on his own: "Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching—such a fine occasion, not fitting for adding more killing. We'll leave it until after Mid-Autumn, for a separate autumn execution. At that time, let all the ministers and high officials go watch the executions, let them all see well the fate of these who formed cliques for private gain, these corrupt and degenerate officials! And also—you will personally supervise the executions!"

Under Emperor Liu's oppressive gaze, Liu Yang, even with his heart feeling choked, dared not refuse, and could only bow his head with clasped hands: "Yes!"

On the road back to the palace, Emperor Liu had Liu Yang ride in the imperial carriage with him. Emperor Liu sat there calmly as ever, even taking interest in reading a volume of the *Kaibao General Compendium*—and the content happened to concern criminal law.

Liu Yang sat beside him with utmost reverence, his body swaying slightly with the motion of the carriage, but he looked somewhat dejected, his expression dark, his face full of deep thought.

As the walls of the Eastern Capital drew closer, Emperor Liu set down the scroll in his hand and finally spoke: "What, still haven't figured it out?"

Upon the question, Liu Yang shook his head, then after a brief pause for thought, still said: "Since the Lu case erupted, it has already shaken the entire court and country. So many people have been arrested. Father, I agree that Lu Duoxun should die, but must we really execute so many more?"

Hearing these words, Emperor Liu did not grow angry. He looked at Liu Yang with a calm gaze and said slowly: "I don't know when you became so soft-hearted, this womanly compassion. Of course I also understand that for the sake of what you call stabilizing people's hearts, we could kill fewer, or even none at all. But this time, we must kill!

The court has been stable for so many years. Peace is peace, but too many problems have accumulated, various ills have arisen that need rectification. Lu Duoxun's faction-forming is the most glaring manifestation of this.

For this, the court has no choice but to use a heavy hand, to impose severe punishments. Without this, the court officials cannot be deterred. The fundamental problems, as I've said before, are difficult to solve—but even a stopgap measure is worth using.

I also know that according to past practice, some people need not die, and their families need not be exiled. But precisely because of that, I cannot let them develop the habit of treating the court's leniency as license for reckless behavior.

Some problems cannot be brought to people's attention without strict laws and harsh punishments! The Lu case has been made this big, has implicated this many people—it absolutely cannot end anticlimactically. Without heads rolling and blood flowing, results cannot be achieved.

Let me remind you again: forbearance is for loyal ministers, honest officials, and good common people—not for these corrupt officials who form cliques to attack rivals and violate laws and regulations. To show them leniency—whose hearts does that reassure?

Is it leniency, or is it indulgence? Think it over carefully yourself. If you still can't see the difference..."

At this point, Emperor Liu stopped, his brow furrowing involuntarily, unwilling to continue. Fixing his gaze on Liu Yang, whose face was shifting through changing colors, Emperor Liu said almost word by word: "You remember this: you are the Crown Prince, the heir apparent!"

Emperor Liu's words struck almost directly at Liu Yang's heart. Perhaps pressured by his imposing aura, his face paled several shades.

After a long while, Emperor Liu softened his tone again and said unhurriedly: "Do you think I killed Lu Duoxun for no reason? He was someone I promoted all the way up. But perhaps precisely because of that, he took my regard and leniency as indulgence. When one crosses the bottom line, there is no room for turning back. He had reasons he had to die..."