Chapter 22: The Screams in the Eastern Depot's Dungeons

Chongzhen's words left the ministers utterly bewildered as they walked out of the hall—no one could have imagined that the emperor, once so timid, would now be so assertive.

The Chongzhen Emperor's campaign against the Donglin Faction bore the same momentum as his early purge of the eunuch faction. Every official wore a gloomy expression, while Chief Grand Secretary Chen Yan and several others had shifting, uncertain faces, lost in their own calculations.

That night, the Eastern Depot's dungeons.

Even here, at the very foot of the Son of Heaven in the capital, there existed the darkest corners. Before you even stepped into this underground prison, you could hear all manner of sounds from deep within—the 'crack-crack' of leather whips striking flesh, and the shrill screams of some minister recently thrown in, among other things.

Depot runners came and went, each face carrying a bone-chilling coldness. Combined with the Eastern Depot's reputation—even more fearsome than the Embroidered Uniform Guard's—everything here was enough to make one's hair stand on end, trembling at a single glance.

Entering the Eastern Depot's dungeons, the first thing to greet you was a pair of embroidered spring sabres hanging on the wall. These were the official-issue style of the Eastern Depot: the left sabre's hilt was carved with the character 'East,' the other with 'Depot,' together reading 'Eastern Depot'—exquisitely crafted, said to be sharp enough to slice through iron like mud.

In truth, back in the Zhengde era, Eastern Depot personnel equipped with such paired embroidered spring sabres were hounds of very high standing within the Depot—symbols of a time when the Eastern Depot's power overshadowed the entire court. Even court ministers would draw a sharp breath at the sight of them.

At this moment, several depot runners in blue-white uniforms each held implements that ordinary people couldn't make sense of. The chief at their head wore a vicious grin as he said:

"Now that His Majesty has finally restored our establishment, we've got plenty of tricks to go around. Master Guang, I'll do you a favor—you pick! This one, or this one?"

In the eyes of the Eastern Depot's runners, the Chongzhen Emperor was nothing less than their second father.

The depot runners had once been disbanded by imperial decree for a time, their fearsome reputation gone for good. But now the Emperor seemed to have seen through the true faces of the Donglin men and called them back—something countless Depot personnel never dreamed would happen.

The Eastern Depot seemed born to counter these heavyweights of the court. His Majesty's restoration of the Depot already showed his sagacity, so the runners naturally had to do their utmost to serve well.

The chief held two torture instruments the Depot used specifically for interrogating prisoners—strange and misshapen in design, but none of them were made idly just to toy with you.

To this day, countless self-proclaimed 'pure-stream scholars' with hard mouths and unnameable names had opened up in this place, ultimately incurring the Emperor's wrath and losing both standing and reputation.

Guang Shiheng hung with both arms bound behind him to the wall, his worn court robes torn off and tossed aside, chest dripping with blood, barely alive. The runner standing at his side held a long whip still dripping blood, looking thoroughly satisfied with the beating.

"I'll confess, I'll confess everything, just take that thing away!!"

Suddenly, from another cell came a trembling plea for mercy.

Guang Shiheng forced himself to look over and saw it was Li Jingguang, the Censor for Patrolling the Eastern Gate. This censor was a disciple of Qian Qianyi, a die-hard Donglin man, a proper pure-stream official.

But judging by his current miserable state, he barely looked human anymore. Who knew how long he'd been locked in this sunless place—and what he'd confessed was quite shocking.

"Well now, no wonder His Majesty had us investigate—this one patrol censor's residence actually hid over a hundred thousand taels of silver. That's more than several years' savings for us."

"You said it. Li Jingguang, a pure-stream type like that, a disciple of Qian Qianyi, the Minister of Rites in Nanjing—and he's found to have embezzled this much silver."

"Wonder what the Director will think when he hears."

"Haha, brothers, we're going to be busy lately. The Embroidered Uniform Guard seized the estate of the Emperor's father-in-law with a warrant a few days ago—dragged quite a few people into it."

"What are we here for? If we don't teach these Donglin types a lesson on His Majesty's behalf, they'll really start thinking they run the Great Ming themselves!"

A batch of depot runners walked past, their conversation utterly without restraint. Guang Shiheng heard it all clearly—Li Jingguang's residence had over a hundred thousand taels in ready silver?

Indeed, while a patrol censor wasn't exactly a high-ranking official, there was plenty of grease to be had.

The Five Wards Troops and Horses Offices were responsible for patrolling the eastern, western, southern, northern, and central wards of the capital—maintaining public order, hearing lawsuits, and arresting thieves—while the patrol censors each oversaw the five wards' censorate offices.

Given the current standing of civil officials at court, it was no exaggeration to say the five patrol censors each controlled security for the entire capital, with the various commanders reduced to mere decoration. That was why many people tried to pull strings to squeeze their sons into those posts for a taste of the spoils.

Li Jingguang had been a famous pure-stream official in the capital on ordinary days; once this news got out, it was sure to invite the world's ridicule.

Since the Eastern Depot's restoration, the positive image of Donglin scholars had crumbled time and again before the Depot. Add to that the Emperor's furious rebuke of the Donglin Faction at today's court session, and the capital was likely in for a storm of blood.

But right now Guang Shiheng couldn't afford to worry about any of that. After seeing Li Jingguang's fate, even his lips were trembling with a 'chatter-chatter'—clearly terrified of meeting the same end.

Guang Shiheng hung his head and said bitterly:

"I confess. I confess everything."

At the same time, at Liuquan Residence in the capital, a stream of gentlemen in plain clothes arrived one after another. If you looked closely, you'd find their faces quite familiar.

That's right—they were the Donglin ministers who had appeared at this morning's court session in tattered robes. Minister of Works Xue Fengxiang and Censorate Censor Chen Mo had already taken their seats early, discussing matters back and forth.

This Liuquan Residence didn't even qualify as a mid-tier 'restaurant' in the bustling capital. The Donglin heavyweights chose it precisely because they'd learned from their mistakes—having seen the Depot and Guard's power, they at least had to be careful on the surface.

Suddenly, a man was ushered in, surrounded by a crowd.

"Grand Secretary, you've finally come!"

Xue Fengxiang immediately stood up as if seeing his pillar of support. The assembled ministers also hurriedly clasped their hands and rose. Chen Yan waved a hand, looked around, and asked:

"Who hasn't come?"

Xue Fengxiang gave a cold snort and said:

"Ni Yuanlu, Zhang Guowei, Li Banghua, and Wei Zaode!"

Chen Yan nodded, understanding that some people couldn't be forced. But Wei Zaode was one of their own—after Chongzhen's words at court today had torn things apart with the Donglin Faction, if he didn't show up at a moment like this, was he just going to sit at home and wait to die?

"What about Wei Zaode? Why hasn't he come? Send someone to fetch him again."

The others could be excused, but Wei Zaode was a proper Second Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat, a heavy minister of state, and an indispensable member of the Donglin Faction. If he didn't come, some matters couldn't even be properly discussed.

After Chen Yan spoke, Censor Chen Mo shook his head and said:

"We called several times, but the man simply refused to see visitors. What can be done? He seems spooked by the affair of the Emperor's father-in-law."

Wang Zhengzhi, Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, nodded and said with lingering fear:

"Indeed. Wei Zaode coughed up an extra ten thousand taels this morning—he must be worried about whether the Embroidered Uniform Guard and Eastern Depot runners will seize his household. With something like this, the farther you stay away, the better."

Another remonstrance official said: "Everyone here came because they're afraid in their hearts, aren't they? We need to settle on a plan tonight. If we wait until the next court session, who knows what fresh trouble will brew."

Of the Six Ministers of the Great Ming court—the Chongzhen Emperor's most vital ministers—four had gathered in this tiny Liuquan Residence on the evening after court.

Of course, besides the various ministers and Grand Secretariat advisors, censors and remonstrance officials had come in no small number either.