Chapter 319: The Imperial Relatives of the Great Ming

Upon hearing the news, Wang Cheng'en remained remarkably calm—after all, he was an old hand who had survived to this age; aside from the expressions he was "forced" to put on when necessary, there was basically nothing left that could distract him.

In his view, the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot were all hounds of the Son of Heaven. His current task was hardly about competing with the Western Depot for status—such matters could be done by anyone, and the responsibility was merely to share the burdens of the present Emperor.

Moreover, Wang Cheng'en harbored a special affection for this Son of Heaven; in some emotional sense, he even regarded the Chongzhen Emperor of history as a son of his own.

Soon, the Eastern Depot and the Western Depot completed their handover in the city of Jinling. Under the pretext of this assignment, Cao Huachun openly expanded a branch office of the Western Depot in Nanjing, appointing the Western Depot's Chiliarch in charge of punishments, Xu Qiang, to handle the transfer with Li Youcheng.

In this way, the Western Depot's influence, which had originally been confined to the capital region, also received considerable development.

More agents roamed the streets of Nanjing than ever before—both the Eastern Depot and the Western Depot had established branch offices there. Although the Chongzhen Emperor had assigned the torture of these merchants to the Western Depot, in all other major matters, it was still the currently ascendant Eastern Depot that had to handle things.

Although the Western Depot had established a branch office in Jinling, it still lacked its own prison facilities—and that was a major issue.

Left with no choice, Xu Qiang notified the Nanjing Ministry of Justice, transferring the prisoners originally held in the Ministry's prison outside Taiping Gate, intending to temporarily borrow it as the prison for the Western Depot's Nanjing branch.

Having just arrived in Jinling, Xu Qiang didn't really care whether the Ministry of Justice agreed or not. He said he was going to ask, but in truth he simply led the Western Depot agents to seize the prison by force—and that was hardly unreasonable, since he had technically given notice.

Although the Western Depot's reputation was not as formidable as the Eastern Depot's, it was still one of the depot guards. The Minister of Justice in Nanjing had no real power whatsoever—how would he dare say no?

For Xu Qiang, "borrowing" the Nanjing Ministry of Justice's prison was nothing at all. Ever since arriving in Jinling, his mind had been entirely focused on how to make these wealthy magnates talk.

Xu Qiang naturally understood that the Western Depot's foundation was weaker than the Eastern Depot's. Since these merchants were all destined to be executed anyway, and in order to make a show of "a new broom sweeps clean," he decided to behead a few early to establish his authority.

Of Jiang Zheng and Zhao Man, one had to be killed. Xu Qiang thought it over for a long time and concluded that the Jiang family had done more business with the Tartars beyond the passes, and all of it was highly profitable tea-and-horse trade—so he decided to keep them alive for now, as they might prove useful later. He thus resolved to make an example of the Zhao family and seven or eight others.

In Jinling these days, the depot guards were out arresting people every day. The Western Depot naturally dared not fall behind. The remaining prisoners and Jiang Zheng were all held together in one large cell—in the words of the Western Depot agents, they were clearing space for the other merchants who would soon be arrested.

"Talk! Are you going to talk or not? If you don't, your master here is going to continue with the torture!"

"Damn your mother! You dare oppose the Emperor? Watch me skin you alive!"

Xu Qiang watched as Jiang Zheng, whipped until his flesh was torn open, fell unconscious before him. He gave a slight flick of his finger, and the agent beside him moved quickly, lifting a basin of cold water and pouring it directly over Jiang Zheng's head.

Jiang Zheng woke with a few miserable howls. Xu Qiang didn't ask him much—he merely signaled his men to keep beating him. Whips, wooden clubs, and small knives—they gave the wretch a taste of everything, while the other merchants watched in terror.

When Jiang Zheng was on the verge of passing out again, Xu Qiang finally sat down on a black wooden stool, looked at him, and said flatly: "Mister Jiang, talk. Who told you to send the goods beyond the passes?"

"Who among you has done business with the Tartars and the Japanese pirates? Say it, and you'll be spared the pain of the flesh!"

The other merchants all knew perfectly well that although Jiang Zheng was black-hearted, he was hardly a tough nut to crack.

That beating just now had already made Jiang Zheng beg for mercy repeatedly. But the Western Depot's methods differed from the Eastern Depot's—the Eastern Depot beat while questioning, and if they got no answers, they escalated to severe torture and kept questioning.

The Western Depot, though, was something else. These agents wore different leathers than the Eastern Depot, used different standard-issue weapons, and upon entering didn't even ask a single question before starting to beat—first a thorough whipping with leather whips, then clubbing with wooden staves as if trying to beat the man to death.

After you passed out two or three times, they'd start pulling out your fingernails, leaving you in agony—and even if you wanted to talk, you had no idea what they wanted to know.

Compared to the Eastern Depot's proper torture-and-interrogation methods, the Western Depot agents' conduct looked for all the world like blatant personal vengeance dressed up as official business.

On reflection, it made sense—after all, the Western Depot had been short-lived. Though it had surpassed the Eastern Depot in development during its brief existence, the wealthy magnates had colluded with officials to shut it down. When the Chongzhen court re-established it, it was like the clouds parting to reveal the blue sky—so naturally the agents wanted to give their old "friends" a proper reception.

Jiang Zheng was accustomed to a life of luxury—he could barely be bothered to walk on his own—and clearly couldn't withstand such brutal beating. Gasping heavily, he said:

"The twenty-four yamen of the two capitals, and the offices of every prefecture and province—we have people everywhere. Sending a few goods out of the passes to the Great Qing would be a trivial matter. But I wonder which yamen and which pass does Chiliarch Xu wish to ask about?"

"The Great Qing!?"

Upon hearing that appellation, Xu Qiang flew into a rage and cursed, grabbing the leather whip beside him and lashing out fiercely, not stopping until Jiang Zheng was rolling on the ground screaming "the Tartar slaves!"

After sitting back down, Xu Qiang began to carefully mull over Jiang Zheng's words, his heart filled with alarm.

According to what he said, the Jiang family alone had allies throughout the court and in every prefectural and provincial office—was he trying to deceive him?

Xu Qiang showed no expression on his face, though inwardly he was somewhat skeptical. Taking paper and brush from the agent beside him, he sneered: "Go on, one by one. Your master here has all the time in the world to play with you!"

When the half-dead Jiang Zheng was led away, Xu Qiang looked at the names and official positions filling three full sheets of large paper—among them even a few behemoths he couldn't afford to offend—and drew in a sharp breath, saying:

"What we took over from the Eastern Depot is a task nobody wanted!"

"That can't be..." The Centurion beside him hurriedly grabbed the papers and read through them one by one, murmuring: "Prince Heng, Prince Lu, Prince Fu—this, this, this—how is this possible?? They're all relatives of the imperial house!"

He had barely spoken a few words when Xu Qiang rushed over to cover his mouth, sighing bitterly: "What kind of imperial relatives are those princes! The things they've done—they're pushing the Great Ming dynasty toward the brink of destruction!"

"What do we do? Do we report this or not?" the Centurion asked.

Because the identities involved were too great—greater than anything these agents could have imagined—Xu Qiang and the Centurion couldn't make the decision alone. After discussing for a while, they decided to ask others first.

Perhaps Jiang Zheng was just biting wildly before death, trying to trick the current Emperor and the imperial house into destroying each other.

But the two of them were wrong. After questioning the merchants separately, although the officials implicated were mostly different in each account, one group was strikingly consistent—the illustrious imperial nobles of the Great Ming!

Among these imperial relatives, there were already quite a few princes who had colluded with the merchants to rake in enormous profits—and that didn't even include the numerous Imperial Sons-in-law, maternal uncles of the Emperor, and maternal grandfathers of the Emperor.

Xu Qiang held the list in his hands, his entire body trembling. What kind of muddy water had he stepped into? What kind of shocking case had he accidentally uncovered?

This was not something a single Western Depot office dared to decide. That very night, Xu Qiang personally went to the Eastern Depot's Nanjing branch to find Li Youcheng. After relaying the information, Li Youcheng likewise couldn't believe it.

In his view, these were imperial relatives of the Great Ming. Not helping their own dynasty, but instead trading with those beyond the passes for a pittance of profit—wasn't that like having their heads kicked by a donkey? Would the Tartar Qing even give them any benefits if they entered the passes?

Both men suspected this was a smoke screen concocted by the merchants in collusion. After discussing for a while, they transferred the merchants to the Eastern Depot's prison and interrogated each one separately again using the Eastern Depot's special methods.

But what distressed Li Youcheng and Xu Qiang was that the results from both the Western Depot's and the Eastern Depot's torture sessions were nearly identical—the illustrious names of those five princes still appeared on the list Li Youcheng held.

Compared to these imperial relatives, the densely packed names of the other officials amounted to nothing at all. Li Youcheng and Xu Qiang exchanged glances, each seeing helplessness and bewilderment in the other's eyes.

The two men who had once secretly struggled against each other never imagined something like this would happen. In an instant they were grasshoppers tied to the same rope—to report or not to report, that was an extremely difficult decision.