Chapter 274: A Sovereign of Passion, A Sage Emperor Reborn

"Don't miss this, folks passing by! These four traitors are just the appetizer—the main course is still to come!"

Li Youde stood on the large platform hastily erected overnight, gesturing animatedly as he tore off the hoods covering the heads of Song Zhipu, Lin Ruzhu, Liu Zhengzong, and Jin Zhijun, shouting loudly.

Around the platform stood a ring of Eastern Depot agents, behind them several layers of runners dispatched by the Troops and Horses Office and the Shuntian Prefecture yamen, and at the outermost perimeter even stood a ring of city garrison soldiers in bright armor bearing sharp weapons.

As the saying goes, one good turn deserves another—since Wang Xiantong had accepted the Eastern Depot's apologies and favors, he naturally had to give something in return to save face, so the city garrison dispatched a contingent of men at dawn to help maintain order at the execution ground.

Each Company Commander kept his hand tightly gripped on his sword hilt, standing at the spot where lots had been drawn at the hour of Yin, watching the crowds of onlookers with his men, afraid that some disturbance might break out—the other runners were likewise on edge.

Normally, when such a major execution was carried out, there would be no need for such tension, because in the past those being executed were all literati, and even if someone came to make trouble at the execution ground, they were usually various scholars, whom the Shuntian Prefecture runners could easily intercept outside—there was no need to worry, and certainly no need to mobilize the garrison.

But today was different. Yesterday's affair had already reached the palace—the city garrison had sent three to five hundred men to arrest one Ning Wanwo, yet had been cut down and wounded by a dozen or so Jianzhou barbarians who had slipped into the city. If such formidable Jianzhou barbarians remained in the city and caused trouble during the execution, ordinary runners and agents alone would not be able to subdue them in the chaos.

Runners only maintained order within the city, and agents only arrested imperial criminals—matters of battle required armored soldiers to handle, and in that regard, at least they were the professionals.

Sure enough, with the city garrison soldiers standing on the outside and the agents carrying out the executions within, there was no need for the runners to waste words—those who came to watch, whether common folk or members of great households, all knew how seriously the court regarded this execution, and basically stood far away, showing no sign of causing trouble.

Wei Zaode, the Chief Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat responsible for overseeing the executions, arrived quite early. He glanced at the sky, judged that the time was about right, and rose to announce: "The third quarter of the hour of Mao has arrived—carry out the executions!"

The token Wei Zaode threw down bore the single character "Execute." At this moment, seeing the eager executioners, Jin Zhijun and the others could no longer remain kneeling—each reacted differently.

Jin Zhijun first burst into curses, then immediately began kowtowing and begging for mercy. Liu Zhengzong likewise had none of his usual Grand Secretary dignity, wagging his tail and pleading like a dog, drawing a chorus of jeers from the surrounding crowd. But that Song Zhipu, showing a rather unyielding and upright bearing, craned his neck waiting for death, and shouted stubbornly:

"Zhu Youjian! You refuse to heed remonstrance, and instead slander our lifelong reputations—you have no way of a true sovereign! You dote on powerful eunuchs and persecute innocent scholars throughout the realm—how is that old dog Wang Cheng'en any different from the eunuch villain Wei Zhongxian?!"

"With such a benighted ruler, the Great Ming is doomed to perish at your hands! This realm—it's over, over!"

Naturally, one so bold as to speak out was certain to receive special attention. The Chiliarch in charge of executions on the platform, Li Youde, hearing the words Song Zhipu shouted, felt in his own heart that this truly violated the way of minister and sovereign, and hastily waved to signal the executioner to take this fellow first.

The executioner nodded—after all, whoever he beheaded was the same, and none of these four criminals would escape today. He released Lin Ruzhu and walked behind Song Zhipu instead, took a mouthful of medicinal wine and sprayed it on his blade, and seeing that this fellow was about to shout again, swiftly raised the blade and brought it down.

"Crack..."

Song Zhipu's headless corpse sprayed blood and collapsed limply onto the platform. The executioner, who made his living by beheading, felt nothing, and walked behind Lin Ruzhu next. At this moment, the common folk who caught the scent of blood grew excited, shouting in succession that the beheading was well done.

In past executions, there had been many cases where the executioner himself did not wish to kill but had no choice, and those watching below mostly looked on coldly—some even threw vegetable leaves, rotten eggs, and stones at him. Doing this thankless job that earned him enemies, the executioner's heart was bitter indeed.

But now it was different. Before almost every execution, the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the newspapers had already proclaimed the criminals as the most heinous villains, and the common folk, convinced by the ironclad evidence, believed it deeply. This shouting also made the executioner feel much better inside, feeling that he was carrying out heaven's will and doing good deeds—a sense of professional pride welled up within him.

Hearing the heavy footsteps of the executioner behind him, Censor Lin Ruzhu hung his head low, unable to utter a single word. In truth, his heart was also filled with misery.

Originally he had nothing whatsoever to do with this affair—he had merely heard that many high court officials had been executed in the past few months, and had come to the capital this time seeking a path into court. But unexpectedly, after a few flattering banquets, he too had been swept up and struck down—truly, speaking of it, he was extremely unlucky.

After the heads of Lin Ruzhu, Jin Zhijun, and Liu Zhengzong were chopped off, the last prisoner was dragged up by several city garrison soldiers. Without a word, a soldier kicked Ning Wanwo in the leg, forcing him to kneel facing the many onlookers.

"Heh heh."

Ning Wanwo had suffered half a night of "inhumane" torture in the military camp, and by now was already beyond human form—not only listless and weak, but with disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, looking even more wretched than a beggar on the street.

"I... I... my Great Qing army will sooner or later storm the capital, chop off your dog emperor's head, and... and exterminate all your nine clans!" Ning Wanwo, now with more breath going out than coming in, seemed to know his end was near, and all he spoke were maddened curses:

"The corrupt Ming has lasted two hundred and seventy-seven years—at the latest by next year, its mandate must end! When that time comes, that will be when my Great Qing iron cavalry enters the Central Plains to rescue the myriad people from fire and water—this is Heaven's mandate! For men to fight Heaven is to seek their own doom!!"

"Bullshit Heaven's mandate! I—the Son of Heaven of the Great Ming—am Heaven's mandate! Heaven's mandate stands right before your eyes—where are your damned Jianzhou barbarians? Why haven't they come to save you?"

Ning Wanwo had barely finished speaking when a vigorous shout came from not far ahead. Turning to look, it was the Chongzhen Emperor himself who had come.

"Your family has received the emperor's heavy grace for generations, yet you thought not of repaying it, nor of devoting yourself to refining your literary talents to serve the nation—instead you followed the Jian captives, using their employment to prove your own worth. How is that any different from the meaning of your courtesy name 'Gongfu'?" The Chongzhen Emperor rode over in a fury, utterly disregarding the dignity of the Son of Heaven, pointing at Ning Wanwo with a cold laugh:

"Traitors such as these are the most detestable! What I have compiled is precisely to record every one of you opportunists who sell out the nation for glory and betray your lord and righteousness, so that later generations may know of you!"

"Beheading alone cannot quench the people's hatred for this villain! Convey my decree: change it to the third quarter of the hour of Wu, outside the Chengtian Gate, to be executed by slow slicing—a thousand cuts, ten thousand pieces. Henceforth, any such traitor captured shall be dealt with in the same manner!"

The Chongzhen Emperor came in haste and departed in haste, followed by a group of imperial guards on swift horses clad in deep black armor. The common folk, seeing this, all discussed among themselves—it seemed this Son of Heaven was a man of passion, and with such an emperor, the Great Ming had truly arrived at its hour of revival.

In Ning Wanwo's stunned and incredulous gaze, countless common folk, runners, and soldiers alike voluntarily prostrated themselves on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly in the direction the Chongzhen Emperor had ridden off, shouting "Long live the Emperor, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years" in waves that rose ever higher.