Chapter 858: No Punishment for the Nobility?

It was the time of Grain in Ear, with abundant sunlight and plentiful rain. The grain in the fields was growing vigorously, absorbing nutrients, and the farmers of the Great Han were all toiling diligently in the fields, either planting late-season grain or tending to their crops, striving hard for a bountiful harvest in the ripe season.

An abrupt passing shower dispelled the early summer heat and washed the city of Kaifeng clean and bright. The common folk of the capital had also entered their summer working rhythm, and the bustling markets remained as prosperous as ever.

At the Southern Market entrance of Kaifeng, crowds gathered thick and voices clamored loudly, as a great number of commoners converged there to watch the excitement. Every day the capital produced all sorts of novel events, but something that drew such a massive gathering was still a rare sight.

Within the spectators' field of view, a huge execution platform had been prepared, with all arrangements fully in place. Flags stood in rows all around, and fully six squads of over three hundred soldiers stood solemnly there, guarding the execution ground and maintaining order.

Over the years, many criminals had been beheaded at the Southern Market, and each execution drew no small number of onlookers, but a spectacle that packed the viewers in like a wall was clearly something out of the ordinary.

This was because over twenty people were being executed together this time, and all those being put to death were people of status and standing. Among those of the highest rank were a Bureau Director of the Ministry of Justice and a Vice Censor—these were offices of the fourth and fifth rank, and capital officials of such rank already held no low position. Apart from the officials, there were also several well-known merchants, who enjoyed some local fame.

With such a batch of people being dragged to the busy market for execution, how could it not cause a sensation? These people had naturally been caught up in Zhao Li's affair. As for their crimes, they had long been announced—the most serious being dereliction of duty, perversion of justice, and treating human life like grass.

The melon-eating commoners were thoroughly enjoying themselves, chattering away and holding forth at length. After all, the executioner's blade wasn't falling on their own necks, and seeing those lofty officials and wealthy households brought low and killed gave them a considerable sense of satisfaction.

They could also stand on the moral high ground and heap criticism upon these nobles who had once been beyond their reach—that too was a most gratifying thing. What people called "a great relief to the public" was perhaps exactly this.

Apart from the Ministry of Justice officials overseeing the execution, a hundred officials stood solemnly and obediently below the platform. By imperial decree, each ministry and bureau in the capital was to send out one hundred officials and clerks specifically to witness the execution.

Amidst the clamorous discussion, these representatives sent by their respective superiors all wore extremely grave expressions, as if daring not to show any superfluous emotion. Gazing at the officials kneeling on the execution platform, faces pale, expressions despairing, necks stretched out awaiting the blade, everyone's heart was heavy.

This move by the Emperor was more effective than a thousand repeated warnings and admonitions—nothing could awaken them more sharply than the bloody horror of heads falling. The gleaming light on the execution swords held by that row of standing executioners seemed to lower the very temperature of the air, sending a chill to the bottom of one's heart.

The agony of waiting to die was unbearable. As time passed, most of the condemned on the platform could no longer hold themselves together—some wailed, some begged for mercy, some cried out in regret, some trembled and shook, and some even lost control of their bladders, displaying their most wretched state before the watching crowd. Their pitiful conduct was no different from that of any other coward who feared death.

The hour approached, families came to bid farewell, the supervising official read out the death warrant, and as the command arrow fell to the ground, the great blades were raised high and swung down in neat, merciless unison—an execution with the nature of a slaughter reaching its climax.

The spectators had been eagerly watching the excitement, but when the critical moment truly came, the scene fell momentarily silent, and many covered their faces and turned away. By the time they came to their senses and turned back around, only a bloody scene remained.

The execution concluded, and the collection of bodies and cleanup began. The onlookers, having seen enough excitement, started to disperse in droves. Perhaps in their later lives, they would use this as a topic of conversation, showing off their breadth of experience to those who had missed such a spectacle.

The officials who had witnessed the execution wore mostly discordant expressions. Many of the timid ones had pale faces, and some had legs that would not stop trembling. The most direct slaughter would bring the most profound awakening—surely many present, when facing choices in the future, would recall today's scene.

Of course, there were inevitably those with strong mental fortitude who merely took it as a warning, becoming more careful, more cautious, and more covert in their dealings. There had never been a problem truly solved by killing. Corrupt officials would not stop being corrupt because of one execution. Privilege was eternal, and those who violated the law and broke the rules remained legion.

Still, after such a major case and such an execution, a certain effect would be achieved—at least it would make the string in the minds of court officials, which had gradually loosened due to the nation's stability, tighten once more for a while.

At the same time, this execution also made the officials of the Great Han understand one point: there was no further need to debate the so-called "punishments do not reach the high officials."

In recent years, because the Emperor had been constantly suppressing the fierce tiger of "men of arms" while advocating civil governance and elevating the status of civil officials, some "nonsensical" arguments had emerged in the court.

The establishment of the Great Han's Penal Code targeted everyone except the Supreme One, His Majesty, and the Empress Dowager. All along, everyone who broke the law—whether official, soldier, scholar, merchant, artisan, or commoner—was dealt with according to the punishments recorded in the Penal Code.

However, some time ago, an official of the Ministry of Rites submitted a memorial to Liu Chengyou, citing the ritual principle that punishments do not reach high officials, telling Liu Chengyou that over the years, many officials who had broken the law had suffered the torments of tattooing, caning, and even beheading, and that the scholarly community harbored much worry and grief.

He said that while those who broke the law were certainly not deserving of pity, applying extreme punishments was still too severe—placing scholar-officials on the same level as convicts and slaves was an insult to refinement and damaged their reputations. He suggested that Liu Chengyou abolish those excessively humiliating punishments for officials...

That memorial sparked widespread discussion both inside and outside the court, nearly forming a political storm. Because the Emperor's attitude toward it was ambiguous and he made no immediate statement, many officials vied to submit memorials of their own, expressing their views on the matter.

The situation was also quite clear: most courtiers agreed with this argument, after all, it was a matter of direct concern to themselves, with major interests at stake. If they could gain the Emperor's approval, it would not merely be a question of elevating the status of their scholar-official class—at the very least, they would secure an "immunity" for themselves.

Within the court, the military made no statement on the matter. They were governed by military law, and it was not their turn to participate in considering this affair. The meritorious nobles, meanwhile, muttered among themselves, unsure whether the "scholar-officials" mentioned by the civil officials included them. By rights, as nobles of the Great Han, their treatment should be even better.

That was a political storm from the bottom up. However, the senior ministers of the court, especially the chancellors, basically made no statement on it. With public opinion surging, if they took the lead, they would risk appearing to pressure the Emperor.

There were also some who opposed it, but their voices were very small and were quickly isolated and criticized. Among the senior ministers, the only one who clearly took a stance on the matter was Chancellor Fan Zhi. As the principal drafter of the Penal Code, he resolutely defended it, even at the risk of losing the support of his fellow officials.

As for that political storm of public opinion, Liu Chengyou's reaction seemed somewhat slow. He sat steadily as if fishing from a pedestal, letting the debate rage above and below, as if releasing a goodwill signal, a favorable one.

Of course, his true inner thought was: had he been too good to the civil officials and scholar-officials these past years, letting them get carried away, trying to hoodwink him with ancient rites and old systems? Was he, Emperor Liu, the sort of person who studied ritual systems?

At the same time, he realized that the scholar-official bureaucratic class, under his support, was indeed growing and raising its head. At least compared to the era when men of arms dominated the state, they could truly hold their heads high now...

That debate had reached no conclusion, but now there was no need for any more pointless discussion. The Emperor had used this execution to make his attitude clear.

Punishments do not reach high officials? Nonsense! That did not exist for Emperor Liu. Those who deserved death still had to die!

"Your Majesty, all the condemned officials have been executed at the Southern Market entrance. The common folk of the Eastern Capital flocked there in droves, with over ten thousand spectators!" Inside Wansui Hall, Zhang Dejun reported the situation to Liu Chengyou.

Follow the public account

"Mm!" Liu Chengyou responded indifferently: "How did the people react?"

"The people were all overjoyed, clapping their hands and praising Your Majesty's wisdom, saying the court's use of law is strict and just—a great relief to the public!" Zhang Dejun said.

Upon hearing this, Liu Chengyou smiled and asked again: "And what about those officials who witnessed the execution?"

"It is said that all were stricken with fear, solemn and daring not to relax. When the heads fell, several officials were so frightened they fainted!" Zhang Dejun said, a trace of contempt even creeping into his words.

"Is that so!" Liu Chengyou grew interested and asked: "There were officials so incompetent as that? Were their names recorded?"

"They were recorded!"

Liu Chengyou did not press further, but instead asked with concern: "Tell me, did those who fainted do so because they could not bear the bloody scene, or because their consciences were guilty?"

Facing the Emperor's amused gaze, Zhang Dejun answered cautiously: "This humble one would not dare to speculate!"