Chapter 299: A Small Game to Test the Human Heart

The situation in Shandong is a classic example of the Ming court's administrative power vanishing; the chaos in Shandong arose gradually from administrative absence, with the Duke of Duke Yansheng effectively replacing the court as the ruler of Shandong, forcing the entire Ming realm to pay for their atrocities.

The peasant uprisings of Liu Liu and Liu Qi eventually spread to the Northern and Southern Directly Governed Areas, Henan, and Huguang, severely impacting five provinces and affecting as many as nine; the rebel forces passed through the northern capital three times and attacked Nanjing thrice without breaching its walls; the court mobilized over 200,000 troops from the Capital Army, Border Army, and regional guards, along with more than 300,000 horses, and in the sixth year of During Zhengde alone, the court transferred 900,000 taels of silver from the Tai Cang treasury.

The Ming court, the people of the nine provinces of Ming, and even the gentry and virtuous elders elsewhere in Ming were also swept up in the unrest, forced to pay for the oppression inflicted by Shandong's gentry and virtuous elders.

After quelling the rebellion, Li Li Dongyang submitted a memorial to Emperor Wu Zong, requesting tax and grain relief for the capital region, Shandong, and Henan, and offering grain rations, housing, oxen, and seed to displaced peasants who returned to their lands, exempting them for five years to ease societal tensions; the Duke of Duke Yansheng's mansion had been destroyed by the rebellion, yet neither Emperor Wu Zong nor Li Li Dongyang would fund its reconstruction.

After the Liu Liu and Liu Qi uprisings, did the Kong mansion in Yanzhou, Shandong, rein in its excesses? The answer is no; the Kong mansion chose to escalate its abuses.

They built their residence imitating imperial palace standards—an act of usurpation; they recruited seventy-two henchmen across Shandong to extort the people to the point of using dogs to enforce authority; anyone who resisted was torn apart by dogs, and if a dog was killed, they forced the killer to carry the dog's funeral.

Thus, when Zhu Zhu Yijun disregarded his own reputation to target this escalated Yanzhou Kong mansion, public opinion in Ming fractured: of course rescue was needed—but not the Kong mansion; rescue Confucius. Even gentry from other regions could no longer tolerate the Kong mansion's cruel extortions.

What if another Wang Liu, Chen Liu, or Zhao Liu arose? Would the gentry and virtuous elders still hold up?

Zhu Zhu Yijun told Chen Zhu nothing else; he first went to observe the Dissection Courtyard, where the dog execution was to be carried out. Few knew of this execution—only court ministers and the chief medical officers of the Dissection Courtyard were aware; it was a secret execution.

It was held at the Dissection Courtyard because its isolation ensured no one would spread word of the emperor's brutality.

The hunting dogs were ferocious, especially those starved for three days; they were driven mad with hunger, howling pitifully even within their cages, the cages rattling violently as the dogs thrashed against them.

Kong Kong Yinlin, in a room less than two zhang wide, unarmed, could only hear the savage barking of dogs; he was paralyzed with terror, collapsing to the ground, scrambling helplessly, screaming desperately for mercy—but no one answered.

Zhu Zhu Yijun watched Kong Kong Yinlin and shook his head calmly to Chen Zhu: "Do you know why he drowned your son and tortured your wife to death? You say it's true—how could a man sink so low? Even after death, he gave no straw mat, feeding the corpse to dogs."

Chen Zhu was a man; he could not fathom how a person could become so evil. He said helplessly: "Your servant does not know. My family had no feud with the Kong mansion or Zhang Zhang Fengkai."

Everything has a why—but in this case, Chen Zhu could not conceive of any reason. Was it worth all this for twenty-four mu of land? He had lost his home and family; his wife and children still suffered such torment.

Ling Governor Ling Yunyi gave him the chance to kill his enemy himself, yet Chen Zhu did not make the Minister difficult, for he knew that without Ling, he could not even seek revenge; if he truly killed someone, he would bring trouble upon Ling Governor Ling Yunyi. A common man's rage cannot reach five paces—the Yanzhou Kong mansion alone had hundreds of guards.

"For amusement," Zhu Zhu Yijun said, eyes half-lidded. "He was born noble, possessing from birth what others could never attain in a lifetime. All pleasures grew bland; no delicacy satisfied his palate, no music pleased his ears. To him, all enjoyment had lost color—he began seeking new thrills."

"It is a sense of superiority over common mortals, a self-justified detachment."

"Do you understand? More plainly—he did it for fun."

"For revenge," Zhu Zhu Yijun continued. "You know such born nobles despise defiance. You killed his dog, and he felt insulted—how dare you kill his dog to save yourself? You may not. In the eyes of these born nobles, you are not even human, not even livestock—you are mere grass."

"Do you understand? Because you resisted, he inflicted greater humiliation—to deter others from resisting."

Chen Zhu thought long and hard. The emperor's words were profound; he still did not understand. He shook his head: "Your servant is dull. Your Majesty is also a born noble."

Chen Zhu could not comprehend: the emperor's reasoning made no sense. The emperor himself was a born noble—yet for the sake of avenging this poor laborer, he was willing to bear a vile reputation to execute Kong Kong Yinlin by dogs. The emperor was furious at his plight; that fury was tangible, and acted upon.

"I am also a born noble. I am no different from him," Zhu Zhu Yijun said, glancing at Chen Zhu. Chen Zhu's face was full of confusion.

Zhu Zhu Yijun continued: "They refused me land surveys and land restoration, refused me to revitalize Ming, refused me to pacify the people—so I killed them. That is my reason. If you stop them from seizing land, they destroy you. What difference is there?"

"There is a difference! There is!" Chen Zhu was confused by Zhu Zhu Yijun's logic. He knew there was a difference—but could not articulate it.

The difference lies in public versus private interest: Zhu Zhu Yijun protects the greater collective's interest; the Kong mansion protects its smaller collective's. According to Zhang Zhang Juzheng's theory, public and private are relative concepts.

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled: "Born noble is not born base. Nobility and baseness are two sides of one coin, opposing yet unified."

Zhu Zhu Yijun looked into the cell at Kong Kong Yinlin. Before the dogs were released, Kong Kong Yinlin had been frantically running, stumbling constantly—his appearance was wretched, nothing like a noble's. Nobility and baseness lie in a single thought.

Zhu Zhu Yijun argued with Chen Zhu because Chen Zhu was too tense, his emotions too anxious.

When dealing with poor laborers and common folk, Zhu Zhu Yijun was always patient, even mindful of Chen Zhu's feelings.

"Did the Empress Dowager issue an edict?" Zhu Zhu Yijun asked Feng Bao. He came to supervise the execution; logically, Empress Dowager Li should not have let the emperor witness such cruelty—even if later questioned, the emperor could claim ignorance, blaming only his ministers.

Feng Bao again questioned the young eunuch and confirmed: "The Empress Dowager issued no edict."

Empress Dowager Li had let go. The emperor was married, an eagle soaring in the sky, now hunting alone. He must witness the world's ugliness—for an enlightened ruler must make Ming great again, must steadfastly revive Ming, and must confront this ugliness.

Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled: "Release the dogs."

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

The cell door opened; the dogs surged out, surrounding Kong Kong Yinlin. They did not immediately attack, for in their experience, humans—these two-legged creatures—were their masters.

Soon, driven by hunger, the dogs began tentative attacks.

"Get back! Get back!" Kong Kong Yinlin was terrified, kicking and flailing to escape the dogs—but powerless, he inflicted no harm. The dogs recognized him not as master, but as prey.

A brutal slaughter began.

Chen Zhu clenched his fists and slammed them against the wall, slowly crouching, hugging his head, weeping silently.

These days, he had been anxious, regretful. Now that the Kong nobles had come to the capital, would the emperor really kill them? If he did nothing, would he ever get revenge? In sleep, he always saw his toddler son, his infant daughter, and his wife—exhausted yet content.

When he witnessed Kong Kong Yinlin torn apart and devoured, Chen Zhu's emotional dam burst. He crouched on the ground like a mountain, trembling, sobbing uncontrollably.

A pain so deep it choked his voice—he could not cry out.

Zhu Zhu Yijun's face softened. He patted Chen Zhu's shoulder: "Chen Dazhuang, it's over."

Chen Dazhuang was Chen Zhu's childhood name; his son's nickname was Tie Dan.

"Minister Ling was right—the Kong mansion should have been destroyed sooner," Zhu Zhu Yijun told Feng Bao firmly. A man as large as a mountain had been reduced to this—Chen Zhu had even been a bandit for a time, only joining the army after the court recruited soldiers.

Zhu Zhu Yijun asked for his wishes; Chen Zhu wished to remain as Coastal Patrol Inspector. Zhu Zhu Yijun approved, ordered him returned to the Northern Garrison, and granted him rewards.

"Master originally told me to meet foreign officials, assistant magistrates, elders, and common folk, saying it was the ancestral law of Emperor Hongwu and Yongle—indeed, it was right," Zhu Zhu Yijun said as he walked back to the palace, speaking to Zhang Hong, who said nothing—the emperor was merely talking to himself.

"I remember in Emperor Wanli's first year, the girl was this tall, hiding behind Assistant Magistrate Chen's back, peeking at me. Back then, Master thought me too young; when the girl recounted her grievance, I still saw goodness. Assistant Magistrate Chen, despite pressure from the Lu clan of Shanzhou, protected her. But in Chen Zhu's case, there was no shred of human goodness—only evil. This is the true state of the world. This is the people's suffering."

Zhu Zhu Yijun was indeed talking to himself. When something happened, he realized Zhang Zhang Juzheng's deliberate arrangement—even showing the emperor the world's evil—had always carried kindness, fearing the emperor would despair of humanity.

"At birth, is human nature good or evil?" Zhu Zhu Yijun said, slightly lost in thought.

At this moment, the Grand Secretary, Deputy Grand Secretary, court ministers, the Minister of Justice, and both Chief Censors of the Censorate arrived at the Northern Commandery's imperial prison. They were to investigate the case and the accused—this was the Three Departments' joint trial. Wang Wang Chonggu presided over the interrogation, bearing the blame for killing the bloodline of Confucius.

Wang Wang Chonggu felt no burden. Posthumous reputation meant nothing to him.

Wang Wang Chonggu was a merchant by origin; he always weighed profit and loss. This task brought him criticism, but would earn him the emperor's favor.

Besides, he might not even be criticized. Those stone steles were copied by the emperor and preserved in pine resin. Given the Kong mansion's vile deeds, even scholars could only spit and disavow them. Confucianism's core is benevolence; benevolence's core is learning the Dao and loving others. What benevolence is there in carrying a dog's funeral?

"Duke of Duke Yansheng, how mighty you are—always threatening to exterminate nine clans. Even His Majesty dares not commit such slaughter," Wang Wang Chonggu said, flipping through the case files, marveling. He handed each document to Hence Hai Rui.

Wang Wang Chonggu spoke truth: Zhang Zhang Siwei was dead, yet Wang Wang Chonggu's family lived well—he himself had been on the list of the nine clans. Zhang Zhang Siwei's relatives were exiled to Lu Song; the Ming's clan extermination spared those under fifteen. The emperor, wielding life and death, had never dared such slaughter.

The Duke of Duke Yansheng dared.

Hence Hai Rui looked at the Duke of Duke Yansheng across from him, fists clenched. He said to Li Li Youzi: "I heard the Kong mansion's bloodline was replaced in the late Tang. Did you hear this, Director Li?"

"Recent gossip all says so," Li Li Youzi confirmed.

Hence Hai Rui exclaimed: "Then it's no surprise—it's a bastard line."

In the capital's public opinion, momentum was building: the Duke of Duke Yansheng's original purpose was to perpetuate Confucius's bloodline—but if this Kong mansion isn't even Confucius's bloodline, then all its outrages make sense. Whether true or not, over a thousand years have passed; it's unverifiable. But Ming Confucian scholars needed the rumor to be true—to preserve Confucius's dignity and their own.

This story was not unearthed by Wan Shihé for his own ends, but to rescue the lowly Confucians. They dug it from old scrolls: in the late Tang and Five Dynasties, the Kong mansion's servant Liu Jing slaughtered the entire Kong bloodline and took his place, changing his name to Kong Jing. The grudges were complex, and with only one source, it was dubious—but once public opinion stirred, Confucius's dignity was preserved, and the scholars' faces were saved.

So now, it wasn't just the emperor who wanted to kill—he was joined by the lowly Confucians. They wanted Duke of Duke Yansheng Kong Kong Shangxian dead immediately, so this matter could be buried.

Chen Zhu's plight was not unique. In Shandong, this was common. These case files—each one, ironclad proof. All blamed Ling Governor Ling Yunyi for being bloodthirsty and cruel, yet no one denied his competence: he crushed the Luopang rebellion with precision and brutality, and his post-conflict handling was flawless.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng could never act against the Yanzhou Kong mansion, for Confucius's doctrine, besides benevolence, emphasized filial piety—narrowly, family relations; broadly, relations among all social strata, the proper order of officials, nobility, and commoners, elders and juniors.

As a minister, Zhang Zhang Juzheng striking the Yanzhou Kong mansion would shatter filial order. Thus, the emperor, Empress Dowager Li, and Feng Bao naturally assumed Zhang Zhang Juzheng was imitating Gao Gong—usurping imperial authority, dismantling the emperor's enforcers, and confining imperial power within the palace. The emperor would retaliate, and opponents of Zhang's reforms would rally behind him.

This is why, historically, in Emperor Wanli's sixth year, Zhang Zhang Juzheng's nationwide land survey failed to complete in Henan and Shandong. Even after Zhang's death, those two provinces remained unmeasured.

Henan had many princely fiefs; Shandong had the Kong mansion.

But the emperor could—because the emperor stood at the apex of filial order. And when he moved against the Yanzhou Kong mansion, he followed the scholars' petitions by summoning the Quzhou Kong mansion to the capital.

Thus, Wang Wang Chonggu acted without pressure. They were not attacking Confucius, his philosophy, or social order—but a depraved, evil mansion.

With a specific target, it became simple.

Duke of Duke Yansheng Kong Kong Shangxian sat relaxed, slumped in his chair. After glancing around, he sneered contemptuously: "Just lackeys."

"I have never betrayed my ancestors' teachings, never failed the state's grace, never forsaken my learning. Your sovereign is a mere child. You do not oppose him—you aid his wickedness. History will judge fairly. What crime do you accuse me of? I, Kong Kong Shangxian, have never committed a single one."

"Why confiscate my Kong mansion? Is it because the little emperor is desperate for money? You, a greedy traitor, dare interrogate me?"

Kong Kong Shangxian was not afraid. He was certain the Ming emperor dared not touch him. The Kong mansion was a thousand-year-old lineage! Dynasties rose and fell—when had the Kong mansion ever wavered? How could the emperor risk universal condemnation to punish the mansion for the sake of grasslike commoners?

Why was Kong Kong Shangxian so arrogant? Because of his information cocoon—he did not know the emperor had issued the decree: "Resistance means death."

Kong Kong Shangxian thought this arrest was merely to relocate the Kong family to the capital. After all, the new policies at the start of Emperor Wanli's sixth year had two goals: first, relocate wealthy families to the capital; second, reform official selection with examinations in arithmetic and logic. Coincidentally, both targeted the Yanzhou Kong mansion.

Kong Kong Shangxian believed his mansion had been fully looted, and that the emperor, constrained by public opinion, would spare their lives.

"His Majesty arrives! All non-essential personnel, stand aside!" A young eunuch suddenly shrieked in a shrill voice.

The court ministers immediately rose, bowed deeply upon seeing the emperor, and chorused: "We pay our respects to Your Majesty. May Your Majesty's health be well."

Zhu Zhu Yijun waved his hand casually: "My ministers have worked hard. Sit down. I've come to see how the interrogation is progressing."

"Still defiant even as death approaches," Zhu Zhu Yijun said after supervising the execution, entering the Northern Commandery's prison, reviewing the case files, and smiling. "Good. Defiance is good."

If he remained defiant, Zhu Zhu Yijun could escalate his punishment further.

Zhu Zhu Yijun looked at Kong Kong Shangxian, analyzed the source of his arrogance, then said firmly: "The wooden statues of Confucius and his wife—I believe, if I recall correctly, you borrowed them from the Quzhou Kong mansion."

"Huh?!" Kong Kong Shangxian's face turned pale.

The wooden statues of Confucius—robed, holding a court tablet—and his wife, long skirt trailing—were carved by Zi Gong, Confucius's disciple, to guard the tomb. Passed down through generations, they were taken to Quzhou by Kong Kong Duanyou in the late Northern Song. During the Yuan, the Northern Line borrowed them, then returned a forgery to the Southern Line.

Zhu Zhu Yijun knew of this because Wan Shihé uncovered it in old archives. Such statues were sacred relics—whose hands held them, that line was the true lineage.

"The wooden statues are sacred relics! They must not be defiled!" Kong Kong Shangxian lost his laziness, shouting furiously.

Zhu Zhu Yijun watched Kong Kong Shangxian's panic, then relaxed, leaning back in his chair, smiling: "Why rush? I say the statues are real, they are real. I say they are fake, they are fake. What can you do? Hide them? I'll find them. Carve a new one, age it slightly—it's enough."

"Duke of Duke Yansheng, don't you agree?"

"This is an insult to civilization! An insult to civilization!" Kong Kong Shangxian was beyond rage. This little emperor was utterly reckless—where did he learn such cunning? So vicious!

Even sacred relics were to be forged!

Where was any sense of propriety, righteousness, integrity, or shame?

Zhu Zhu Yijun leaned forward, solemnly: "I defile sacred relics? You, you lowly Confucians, are the ones who defile them! In the late Tang and Five Dynasties, your Kong family lost the original statues. In the early Song, you carved new ones. For centuries, you deceived heaven and earth. Your Yanzhou mansion is a family temple—how could you lose your ancestral sacred relics? What nonsense about 'never betraying ancestors'! Where is the real statue?"

"Who truly defiled the sacred relic?"

This secret was uncovered by Ling Governor Ling Yunyi during his investigation: the wooden statues were carved again in the Song dynasty; the original had long been lost by the Kong mansion. The Yanzhou mansion was a family temple—yet they lost their ancestral sacred relic. Zhu Zhu Yijun was truly amazed by these lowly Confucians. Even Ming palace eunuchs preserved the Yongle swords cast during Yongle's reign—still usable as imperial swords in Emperor Wanli's time.

Zhu Zhu Yijun was frugal—he did not forge new ones. The sword given to Qi General Qi Jiguang Jiguang was the Yongle sword.

The Duke of Duke Yansheng's mansion is worse than eunuchs.

"You—you—how could His Majesty possibly know this!" Kong Kong Shangxian was utterly horrified; such a secret, how could the Emperor possibly be aware?

What Kong Kong Shangxian thought was a secret was no secret at all—just as it was common knowledge that the first nitpicker and the first miser in the Great Ming were none other than the Emperor himself, everyone inside and outside the Kong mansion knew this, and even Kong Kong Yinsen, the one devoured by dogs, had confirmed it.

Kong Kong Yinsen confessed that the Song-era carved wooden statue borrowed from Quzhou had also vanished, and a new one had been carved in the first year of Emperor Jiajing.

When Liu Liu and Liu Qi breached the Kong mansion, the Kong family fled in panic and forgot to take the carved wooden statue—it was lost.

Zhu Zhu Yijun heard this and was stunned: how could they lose a borrowed carved wooden statue? How hadn't the Descendant of Sage's mansion lost itself?

"Hehe, look what this is! Feng Feng Banban, bring it forward." Zhu Zhu Yijun clapped his hands, and Feng Bao placed on the table a carved wooden statue wrapped in red silk.

Zhu Zhu Yijun slowly unwrapped it, then smiled: "The Song-era carved wooden statue your Kong mansion lost—I've found it! Surprised? Delighted?!"

Ling Governor Ling Yunyi's household search followed Luo Luo Bingliang's method, which emphasized absolute thoroughness—even the feces in the latrine were weighed and sold. When the Kong family fled, they left behind their ancestral sacred object, but their servants had hidden it. After Liu Liu and Liu Qi were defeated, the servants realized the statue was impossible to sell.

A one-of-a-kind treasure, if sold, invited disaster—so they secretly kept it.

Ling Governor Ling Yunyi's search naturally uncovered the Song-era carved wooden statue.

This pair of carved wooden statues: Confucius was missing an ear—his right ear slightly damaged, his face cracked—not carved in the first year of Emperor Jiajing, but truly from the Song era.

"The Quzhou Kong mansion carried this pair of statues fleeing south, and through years of war and chaos, they protected them well. But under your care, the ear is broken, the face cracked—you truly, truly are!" Zhu Zhu Yijun didn't know what to say; he grew even more convinced of the bastard's claim: those who don't own something don't value it.

This is an ancestor—a proper thousand-year lineage—and they could lose their ancestor, reduce him to this?

The Yongle-era treasure sword guarded by palace eunuchs can still cut people to this day!

"The Quzhou Kong mansion arrives in the capital tomorrow." Zhu Zhu Yijun looked at Kong Kong Shangxian with a cruel smile and continued: "You've guessed it—I'll return this artifact to its rightful owner. The title of Descendant of Sage for your Northern Line will go to the Southern Line."

"When the Taizu Emperor sought to reconcile North and South, he chose the Northern Line because the capital was in the south. Now I choose the Southern Line because the capital is in the north—again, to reconcile North and South."

Zhu Zhu Yijun dragged Zhu Zhu Yuanzhang out to use his name as a pretext: when the imperial court was in the south, the Confucian temple was in the north; when the imperial court was in the north, the Confucian temple was in the south—perfectly reasonable!

Whether it was reasonable or not—wasn't it just a matter of the Emperor's lips moving?

Court ministers understood the Emperor's anger: the Kong mansion had used dog steles to exploit the people, and the Emperor wanted to destroy the Kong mansion. But to the people, it looked like the Emperor was enforcing the land survey reform, encountering resistance in Shandong, and sacrificing the Kong mansion as a warning.

The people's view was not wrong—Zhu Zhu Yijun indeed had this purpose. The land survey reform could not be implemented in Shandong; administrative power had collapsed there. Zhu Zhu Yijun must push forward forcefully.

Kong Kong Shangxian collapsed onto his stool, staring dazedly at the Emperor; he had never imagined the Emperor would go this far, still clinging to a desperate hope that the Emperor dared not touch him, for he was of the Sage's bloodline.

"Wan Shihé told me to test your Kong family," Zhu Zhu Yijun leaned forward, grinning. "The method: separate father and son in detention. If both choose the other to live, both live. If one chooses to live alone, both die. Descendant of Sage, shall we conduct this filial-piety experiment?"

Hence Hai Rui immediately leapt to his feet, pointing at Wang Wang Chonggu's nose in fury: "Wan Shihé's words are slander! One whose wisdom masks faults, whose rhetoric justifies deceit, who sows discord among kin and stirs chaos in court—that is a sycophant! You forget your duty to admonish and guide, to assist your sovereign—how dare you so lightly cast your lord into immorality? You are a traitor who brings ruin to the state!"

Zhu Zhu Yijun quickly said: "Hai Hai Zongxian, calm down. I haven't done it yet. Wan Shihé merely suggested it. Whether to act or not isn't up to me—it's up to the Descendant of Sage."

Hence Hai Rui sighed in despair: the Emperor was even more cruel than Wan Shihé.

Wan Shihé's game was intriguing: the Kong mansion was the Sage's bloodline, so they must deeply value filial piety and fraternal duty—fatherly kindness and filial obedience were inevitable; thus, all of them should survive.

If Kong Kong Shangxian agrees, not a single member of the Kong mansion will survive—and the last shred of dignity will be stripped away by the Emperor's game. Filial piety? Not a trace of it.

Kong Kong Shangxian cannot agree—it's a trap set by the Emperor. The Emperor handed them a shovel to dig their own grave. The final shovelful of earth on the Kong mansion's tomb mound will be placed by Kong Kong Shangxian himself.

But to refuse means no hope at all.

"Descendant of Sage, choose: will you take this test or not?" Zhu Zhu Yijun smiled broadly.

"No." Kong Kong Shangxian shook his head numbly, finally choosing refusal—to preserve the last shred of dignity, for he knew his adopted son would never choose him to live; an adopted son was not a true son.

Zhu Zhu Yijun shook his head: "Pity."

Wang Wang Chonggu thought for a moment and said: "Your Majesty, shall we try it now? I'm quite curious."

"Wang Wang Chonggu!" Hence Hai Rui slammed the table and stood, pointing at Wang Wang Chonggu's nose in rage: "Wisdom to conceal faults, rhetoric to justify deceit, sowing discord among kin, stirring chaos in court—such a man is a sycophant! You forget your duty to admonish and assist, how dare you so lightly cast your sovereign into immorality? You are a traitor who brings ruin to the state!"

"Hai Hai Zongxian, don't be so angry—we won't do it, we won't do it!" Wang Wang Chonggu immediately backed down at Hence Hai Rui's outburst. Hesitation was disrespect toward Hence Hai Rui.

Wang Wang Chonggu was deeply afraid of men like Hence Hai Rui—Hence Hai Rui was too serious. His schemes and tricks simply couldn't work against him. Zhang Zhang Juzheng was corrupt, but Hence Hai Rui didn't even take bribes—how could you fight him?

Wang Wang Chonggu was merely playing along with the Emperor to scare Kong Kong Shangxian—he'd never actually do it.

The Emperor had asked the question precisely because he had already decided not to test human nature—no matter who, human nature cannot withstand such tests.

Hence Hai Rui was too principled, too wary of such things. Once you begin testing human nature, the consequences will be endless.

When Yang Bo once proposed opening the door to probing hearts in court, Zhang Zhang Juzheng's single counter-question silenced him instantly—the attacks on Qi General Qi Jiguang Jiguang vanished.

The logic was simple: rulers are naturally suspicious. If you test human nature, there will be no peace in the realm for a single day.

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(End of Chapter)