Chapter 341: Begging Forgiveness, Laying Charges

What? There are going to be more of these trap-filled self-reflection assemblies?

Qian Qianyi and Hou Xun, the two Donglin bigwigs, glanced at each other, and their moods instantly soured even further.

What kind of self-reflection is this? It's basically a tax work conference!

If they hold several of these a year, how many harsh taxes and miscellaneous levies will be collected? What are we to do? How are the southeastern gentry supposed to live from now on?

Zhu Cilang's expression suddenly turned extremely solemn, and he looked seriously at the Chongzhen Emperor: "Imperial Father, through this self-reflection assembly, we father and son have finally learned why the Great Ming realm has fallen to its present state. Then it is time to go and beg forgiveness from our ancestors!"

Beg forgiveness? Chongzhen thought to himself: Just now you were saying the ancestors' maritime ban, tribute system, and the list of countries not to be attacked were not misgovernment! Are you going to beg forgiveness, or to lay charges?

Zhu Cilang smiled and added: "Imperial Father, it is already late in the day, not the time for sweeping the imperial tombs. Why not rest tonight in the Palace of Self-Reflection, and tomorrow morning, after bathing and changing clothes, we can go together to beg forgiveness from our ancestors?"

"Beg forgiveness?" the Chongzhen Emperor said faintly. "What, do you need to beg forgiveness too?"

"Your son indeed has no sins," Zhu Cilang said with a smile, "but Imperial Father's sins are too many; one person probably cannot beg forgiveness for them all. When the time comes, your son will help you beg together."

"You—" Chongzhen did not know how to discipline his son, so he could only cast a pleading look at the princes, ennobled nobles, and great ministers in the hall. And then... nothing. No one paid him any attention, and several princes whose families had been destroyed were even nodding! As if the deaths in their families had all been caused by Chongzhen!

You princes really have no conscience! Chongzhen thought: Had I known you were such people, I should have fabricated charges, like that unfilial son did to the southeastern ennobled nobles, and confiscated all your princely estates! Which of your families doesn't have several million in assets? Confiscate them all, and it would be more than a hundred million! What Li Zicheng, what eastern barbarians, all of them could be wiped out! I was simply too soft-hearted!

Zhu Cilang merely watched the grim-faced Chongzhen Emperor with a faint smile—this emperor had never had many "people of his own," and now even less could he expect anyone to come to his rescue! Better to obediently go with this Crown Prince to the ancestors' tomb and talk about when to hand over the throne.

The eighteenth year of Chongzhen of the Great Ming, the second day of the first month, at the Xiao Mausoleum in Nanjing, the wind was gentle and the sun bright—truly a fine day for begging forgiveness from the ancestors.

The Chongzhen Emperor and Crown Prince Zhu Cilang, along with a crowd of princes, dukes, and ministers who had followed them, rose early this morning. They did not eat breakfast, but only bathed in hot water, and after washing clean, changed into sacrificial robes. This was called fasting, bathing, and changing clothes. Then, led by the Chongzhen Emperor, Crown Prince Cilang, and the Director of the Imperial Clan Court, Prince Fu Zhu Yousong, they walked on foot through the Great Golden Gate toward the Offering Hall of the Xiao Mausoleum.

Behind them followed a large contingent of the New Army and the Pure Army, carrying sacrificial offerings on shoulder poles. Besides the standard "Grand Sacrifice" of ox, sheep, and pig, there were also nearly 3,000 wind-dried human heads!

All of them were trophies from the Battle of Dagu—these dead heads had nearly become a "premium asset" in Zhu Cilang's hands, already put to use several times, and now brought out as an offering to Zhu Yuanzhang. Though, come to think of it, if Zhu Yuanzhang truly had a spirit in heaven and saw these dead heads, he would certainly be very satisfied.

These heads were like the "dividends" that the Great Ming under Zhu Cilang's management was paying to Zhu Yuanzhang! There would surely be more in the future!

The "Grand Sacrifice" and the more than 2,000 but fewer than 3,000 dead heads were all arranged on the plaza between the Offering Hall and the Square City, with the heads piled into a rather terrifying head mound.

The master of ceremonies was the Minister of Rites, Qian Qianyi. He was, of course, opposed to sending Zhu Yuanzhang a pile of heads—not that it would frighten the old ancestor, but it was still awkward! And those ferocious, contorted faces would make anyone nauseous and give them nightmares. Minister Qian had not eaten that morning, so he was not yet vomiting, but he would probably not sleep well tonight. It seemed he would have to let Liu Rushi work a little harder.

Qian Qianyi finished reading the sacrificial text, then led Chongzhen, Crown Prince Zhu, and all the civil and military officials in performing the grand rites. After that came the carrying of earth to honor the tomb—that is, adding a bit of soil to Zhu Yuanzhang's grave mound, just as a token gesture.

And the one responsible for carrying the earth was, of course, Zhu Cilang himself—hadn't he, in his previous life, talked nonsense about repairing Zhu Yuanzhang's ancestral tomb? Now was the perfect time to do it. Carrying a little over half a basket of soil, together with the Chongzhen Emperor, step by step under everyone's gaze, he walked toward the tall and majestic Square City of the Xiao Mausoleum.

The Square City was simply a square-shaped gate tower, and behind it was the treasure mound of the Ming founder, Zhu Yuanzhang.

"Imperial Father, be careful," Zhu Cilang said to Chongzhen before they even entered. "It's very dark inside, and the steps are a bit steep. Don't fall."

Chongzhen was startled: "How do you know? Have you walked it before?"

"Of course—walked it many times!" Zhu Cilang answered offhandedly—he had indeed walked it many times. Every time he came to Nanjing on business, he had to stop by for a look! After seeing the old ancestor, he would also go next door to the Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum for a stroll. There was fast food to eat over at the Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum... but he would not go to the Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum today, because it had not been built yet.

"You—when have you ever come to Nanjing?" The Chongzhen Emperor glared at his son. "No nonsense in front of the old ancestor's tomb!"

"How is it nonsense? I really have been here—" Zhu Cilang frowned and did not continue.

The two had already entered the gate passage of the Square City. Inside, it was indeed pitch black, and the steps were steep and a little slippery.

Passing through the steps inside the Square City and coming out the rear gate, what met their eyes was a stone wall. At this time, there were no characters carved on the wall—the seven characters "This mountain is the tomb of the Ming founder" were carved during the Republican era.

Zhu Cilang tossed the basket to the ground, then stood before the stone wall in a daze. The Chongzhen Emperor looked at his stupefied son, merely puzzled—what was wrong with this unfilial son? He was acting very strangely today!

Zhu Cilang looked at the stone wall, naturally overcome with a thousand emotions. He clearly had a bellyful of words, yet did not know how to speak them.

After a while, he suddenly let out a breath and murmured: "Can't go back... and won't go back. It's fine just as it is now!"

What does that mean? Chongzhen looked at this son who was both unfamiliar and frightening to him, thinking: You... where do you want to go back to? Don't tell me you want to go back into that great tomb before us? The one buried inside seems to be the old ancestor! Could you really be the old ancestor reincarnated?

"Imperial Father!" Zhu Cilang's voice suddenly rang out, interrupting the Chongzhen Emperor's thoughts. "When will you hand over the throne?"

What? Is that something you can ask? Chongzhen looked at Zhu Cilang, with a strong urge to go up and beat him, yet did not dare to make a move.

Mainly because the atmosphere right now was too eerie!

"The realm has come to this, so why are you still being emperor? Better to yield it to me! This is also the old ancestor's wish..." Zhu Cilang glanced at Chongzhen. "Imperial Father, I will clean up the Great Ming's mess. You just enjoy yourself! Is that acceptable?"

"You—you—you—" Chongzhen gritted his teeth. "We simply will not yield!"

"Ai, why make it hard on yourself?" Zhu Cilang shook his head repeatedly. "Zuo Liangyu is old and ill, not long for this world. When he dies, the throne will still have to be yielded."

The only thing now propping up Chongzhen's throne was one Zuo Liangyu, who might or might not have gone mad. But Zuo Liangyu's death was not far off. Zhu Cilang was giving him face by waiting a few more months. When the time came, Chongzhen would still have to yield the throne!

Chongzhen snorted, still refusing to relent.

"Then wait a few more months?" Zhu Cilang said. "After Zuo Liangyu dies, then abdicate... Imperial Father, your son is filial. Once you become the Retired Emperor, you are guaranteed to be happier than you are as emperor."

Chongzhen still said nothing.

Zhu Cilang shook his head. "Your son will take his leave first. You go and properly beg forgiveness from the old ancestor!"

With that, he did not even add any soil to Zhu Yuanzhang's grave mound, but turned and entered the rear gate of the Square City, descending along the steps.

And the Chongzhen Emperor fell to his knees with a thud before the stone wall of the treasure mound, weeping bitterly: "This son Cilang is unfilial and rebellious, treacherous and cruel—truly Cao Cao reborn, Sima come again. If he becomes emperor, all the rebels, Tartars, treacherous ministers, and unruly commoners under heaven will surely miss Us!"

(End of Chapter)