Chapter 38: The Blind Guang Shiheng

Seeing Dong Mao, the son of the Shuntian Prefect, reveal his identity, Zhu Cilang looked at Wu Zhong beside him, pretending not to have heard, and asked, "What kind of official is a Shuntian Prefect?"

Wu Zhong understood the intent and immediately said, "Young Master, you may not know, but the Shuntian Prefect is a third-rank official who receives complaints from all over the country, equivalent to a small Ministry of Justice. He is also the highest-ranking official maintaining order in the capital. Not only that, the Shuntian Prefect can directly appear before the Emperor in court and meddle in the affairs of the Six Ministries—very formidable indeed!"

Hearing the other party praise his father so highly, Dong Mao immediately became inflated with pride. He sat down on a chair nearby, crossed his legs, and looked at Zhu Cilang's group, hoping to see panic in their eyes.

However, Zhu Cilang just smiled and said, "Wow! So formidable? But what does that have to do with me?"

Dong Mao frowned, looking askance at Zhu Cilang, and said, "At such a young age, you're even more arrogant than me. You really don't know your own place!"

"Ah!" No sooner had he finished speaking than Dong Mao felt a sharp pain on his face, and then, dizzy and disoriented, he was sent spinning like a top by Xu Sheng's slap, clutching at a chair as he whirled around.

By the time he recovered his senses, he touched his burning face, feeling as if his little cheek had been scraped by a knife. He felt his mouth corner and found it wet—blood was already flowing out.

Many people widened their eyes in utter shock. They dared to beat even the son of the Shuntian Prefect—who in the world were these people?

Dong Mao covered his mouth, blood streaming endlessly from his plump lips. Seeing the bright red blood in his hand, he was so frightened that he began wailing loudly.

"Just you wait!" Dong Mao spat out a menacing threat through his slurred speech, then turned and ran off immediately.

Xu Sheng was just about to grab him back when he heard Zhu Cilang say, "Let him go!"

Zhu Cilang thought to himself: This Guang Shiheng's son is so close with the Shuntian Prefect's son, so the two of them must also be on good terms. They should all be members of Wen Tiren's faction. Since there's an opportunity, why not take them all out in one fell swoop?

Xu Sheng glanced at Guang Heng, then respectfully asked Zhu Cilang, "Young Master, how should we deal with this brat?"

Without even giving Guang Heng a proper look, Zhu Cilang said indifferently, "Throw him off the building!"

His voice was very soft, yet it struck like a thunderclap from clear skies, sending chills down everyone's spine.

Hearing this, Guang Heng's face filled with terror, his legs trembling uncontrollably, his heart pounding wildly. Although he knew being thrown off the building wouldn't kill him, he would certainly suffer broken bones and injured tendons. At this moment, he was truly afraid and immediately turned to run downstairs.

Upon receiving the order, Xu Sheng grabbed Guang Heng like a chick, carried him to the window, and hurled him down with all his strength.

In an instant, the people standing below only saw a figure flailing wildly through the air before landing heavily on the ground with a thud, leaving all the pedestrians below utterly stunned.

Guang Heng lay sprawled on the ground like a dead pig, several of his teeth knocked out, groaning and moaning as if talking in his sleep.

Some sharp-eyed people recognized Guang Heng but dared not approach, quickly turning to run toward the Guang residence.

Upstairs, seeing Guang Heng thrown down by Xu Sheng, Zhu Cilang gestured for the others to sit and continue eating and drinking. He also ordered two large portions of extra-spicy food to go, planning to send them to Sun Yingyuan and Huang Degong, who were busy with military affairs.

Before long, they heard a loud shout from below the window: "Who beat my son? Are you tired of living?"

Clearly, Guang Shiheng had arrived. Guang Shiheng came charging over ferociously with a crowd of household retainers, and the surrounding commoners quickly made way. Many had already scattered, afraid of being caught in the crossfire. Those who stayed to watch kept their distance, observing from afar.

Guang Shiheng led his men to Guang Heng's side. Looking at his son lying on the ground with a face swollen like a pig's head, and seeing the blood all over Guang Heng's mouth, his rage burned even hotter.

Guang Shiheng asked, "Heng'er, who—who hit you?"

Guang Heng's body twitched as he struggled to raise his hand and point at the window upstairs, saying tearfully, "They're the ones who threw me down."

Guang Shiheng helped Guang Heng up, then led several household retainers clomping up to the second floor of Dezhuang Hotpot Restaurant, arriving at the table where Zhu Cilang was sitting.

Guang Heng was Guang Shiheng's only son—he feared the boy would melt if held in his mouth, or break if held in his hands. Even Guang Shiheng himself couldn't bear to strike him, and the wives and concubines of the household doted on him beyond measure. Now that Guang Heng had been beaten by strangers and thrown from a building, Guang Shiheng's heart seethed with murderous intent, and he wished nothing more than to kill the people before him on the spot.

Guang Shiheng's eyes blazed with fury as he bellowed, "Was it you insolent brats who threw my son off the building?"

Although Guang Shiheng had seen the Crown Prince at court assemblies, his rank was too low—he had been over a hundred meters away and could only make out a small figure, unable to discern the face at all. Thus, he did not recognize Zhu Cilang.

Zhu Cilang said with a smile, "Lord Guang, your son was far too arrogant. I merely taught him a lesson on your behalf—why such a fiery temper?"

Guang Shiheng was a man who had lived over forty years and was very shrewd. Seeing that Zhu Cilang's tone was calm and utterly unafraid, and that his voice seemed somehow familiar, he immediately adjusted his attitude and said in a deep voice, "Which household do you belong to?"

Zhu Cilang laughed and said, "This young master has no residence here. I'm merely visiting relatives and staying nearby these days."

Not from the capital? Then what did he have to fear? Guang Shiheng sneered and said, "You snot-nosed brat, I don't care who your parents are. Today you must give an account. Cut off your right hand right now, and I won't pursue this matter further."

At these words, the surrounding crowd erupted in murmurs. This Guang Shiheng was truly too overbearing.

A Supervising Secretary, though only a full seventh-rank official, held low rank but immense power. He was responsible for attending the emperor, remonstrating, filling vacancies, recovering omissions, and reviewing documents. He had the authority to seal and return imperial edicts and to correct memorials submitted by all offices. He could also supervise the various departments of the Six Ministries, impeach all officials, and complement the role of the Censors.

Additionally, he was responsible for recording and compiling imperial edicts and memorials, supervising the execution of orders by various offices; serving as examination official for provincial exams, co-examiner for metropolitan exams, and scroll-receiving official for palace exams; acting as principal or deputy envoy when enfeoffing imperial clan members or princes, or when delivering proclamations to foreign states; and accepting appeals of wrongful grievances.

With so much power in hand, he was practically an all-reaching octopus—naturally, few dared to offend him.

Similar to eunuchs—Wang Zhen, Liu Jin, Wei Zhongxian, and other powerful grand eunuchs of their times held low ranks, yet even Grand Secretariat ministers had to kneel and pay respects when they saw them. That was how the Ming officialdom worked: those with real power were the masters.

Zhu Cilang looked at him calmly, still composed and unhurried. He shook his head and said, "Guang Shiheng, your son wanted me to kneel and beg for mercy, and now you want me to cut off my own right hand. I never imagined the Guang family could be so overbearing."

Guang Shiheng felt that these people had something backing them and hesitated somewhat. He didn't order his retainers to charge forward but instead had them surround Zhu Cilang, cutting off any route of escape.

Facing the encirclement of the Guang household retainers, Zhu Cilang was utterly unafraid. If any of these retainers dared to touch a single hair on his head, he could guarantee that the hundred-plus Eastern Palace personal guards and a group of Embroidered Uniform Guard agents in plain clothes around Dezhuang Hotpot Restaurant would chop them into minced meat on the spot—not a single one would escape.

Then Guang Shiheng continued, "I also heard you injured the Shuntian Prefect's son. If you know what's good for you, cut off one arm immediately. Otherwise, once the Prefect arrives, you might have to leave your lives here."

Zhu Cilang raised an eyebrow and said, "The Shuntian Prefect? Would he dare to seize people in public without distinguishing right from wrong?"

Guang Shiheng said coldly, "You've offended my son and the Prefect as well. No matter who you are, in the capital, you'd better crawl before me!"

Zhu Cilang narrowed his eyes at him and was about to speak when a burst of yamen runners' shouts clearing the street came from downstairs.