Chapter 307: Extracting the Essence, Expanding the Scope: Abandoning the Brush for the Sword

Dark clouds press upon the city; the sky is gloomy and dim.

In the western wing's upper chamber of the inner court, a group of ministers and the emperor gazed down from the window, each with a different expression.

Gao Yi's face was grave; Zhang Hong showed no expression; the Secretary of the Central Secretariat, Wang Yingxuan, muttered under his breath, inaudible to others.

Zhu Yijun stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking down from above, silently watching Jiang Keqian lead the Imperial Guards in encircling the target; faintly, he could hear Liu Shiyan shouting defiantly as he resisted to the last.

"Indeed, no one in the realm is a puppet on strings."

"Today, I intended to confront Liu Shiyan anyway; the guards and firearms I brought for this visit were precisely meant to provoke him into a desperate last stand, so I could later strike harder against the meritorious nobles and the Five Military Directorates."

"But I never expected him to go this far—to strike first, to assassinate the emperor… I've seen enough court intrigues, but never before have I seen street-level bandit tactics."

"Excellent! This is even bigger than I imagined!"

Zhu Yijun murmured to himself, reflecting on the current scene.

He never expected someone as audacious as Liu Shiyan to surrender meekly—let alone the matter of his unauthorized use of the imperial carriage, not to mention the rumors in unofficial histories that he had once urged Zhang Juzheng to rebel and seize the throne, his "outrageous words" having left every court official in shock.

Or rather, the extra Imperial Guards, crossbows, and firearms brought along were always meant to escalate the situation.

But he had truly not anticipated it would escalate this far—he never expected Liu Shiyan to strike before him, nor that the man would dare lead troops into the streets to assassinate the emperor; it was as if Liu wanted him to become the second Cao Mao.

Fortunately, Liu Shiyan was no Cao Qin, and the Five Military Directorates were no Beijing garrison troops—he could not, as in the fifth year of Tian Shun, mobilize thousands to assault the imperial palace.

Now, with only a few hundred troops gathered and reaching the imperial presence, though it startled Zhu Yijun, it still posed no real threat and remained firmly under control.

Hearing the emperor's words, Gao Yi still frowned deeply: "Your Majesty, you should avoid leaving the palace as much as possible in the future."

It was simply too terrifying!

The last time an official openly plotted to overthrow the emperor was when the Marquis of Zhao Wu, Cao Qin, launched an assault on the imperial palace, killing the Censor-in-Chief and burning down Chang'an Gate.

Such a colossal event, even if swiftly quelled, would be seen by all as a sign of instability in the court.

Local bandits and rebel heroes, hearing such tales repeated often, might well develop ambitions they never had before.

Moreover, although ministers like Minister of War Shi Mao, Vice Minister Luo Fengxiang, and Marquis Chengyi Liu Shiyan have now been exposed, it does not mean these are the only ones involved.

The White Lotus Sect is growing steadily, spreading across Shanxi, Henan, and elsewhere—who is funding them?

The Han traitors in Bansheng now shuttle between Han and Mongol territories, acting as intermediaries—who are these Confucian turncoats?

In today's books, it is common to read: "First-class Yuan, second-class Ming; killing is justified, a favor granted." Is this because the Ministry of Rites is too aloof to see the world below, or because too many remnants of the Yuan dynasty remain unpurged?

Since the loose ends have not yet been cleaned up, the proper response is to maintain calm and restraint!

Zhu Yijun stared fixedly downward.

Yet he refused without hesitation: "Master, you do not understand—I came here today to confront Liu Shiyan precisely to use this opportunity to reorganize the military; I will inevitably have to leave the palace frequently from now on."

His teacher had long since withdrawn from the center of power; Zhu Yijun did not elaborate further.

Upon hearing this, Gao Yi's expression grew increasingly displeased; he looked up at the emperor and demanded: "What exactly does Your Majesty intend?"

The emperor's safety is not a matter for one man alone.

The emperor cannot act recklessly.

Seeing Gao Yi's displeasure, Zhu Yijun sighed and explained: "If the military has gone awry, the solution must come from the military itself. Cooped up in the palace day after day, how can problems be solved?"

"I intend to seize direct command of the Beijing garrison!"

The moment he spoke.

Wang Yingxuan's muttering lips fell silent; his eyes flicked rightward, his peripheral vision instinctively glancing at the emperor.

Zhang Hong gave a signal; Zhang Jing stepped out to guard the door.

Gao Yi's furrowed brow relaxed.

He instantly understood—no wonder the emperor had come personally to pressure Liu Shiyan; no wonder he was not angry but pleased upon seeing Liu gather troops in rebellion—when someone has openly raised arms against him, who could possibly oppose the emperor taking direct control of the military?

Zhu Yijun looked up at the sky; a flash of lightning illuminated the world in sudden brilliance.

He turned his gaze back to Gao Yi and continued: "Had I not traveled outside the palace and witnessed firsthand the corruption in the pastures, how would I have known how thoroughly Shi Mao had ruined the horse administration?"

"How would I have known that the Ministry of War, the Five Military Directorates, the White Lotus Sect, and foreign barbarians were all tangled together?"

"Some matters, I can no longer leave to the ministries."

"I entrusted the Ministry of War to Shi Mao—how did he repay me? Had I truly followed his recommendation last year to appoint Luo Fengxiang as Minister of War, within ten years, these men would be searching the frontier for another Zhu Chongzhuo!"

Gao Yi fell silent.

The Secretary of the Central Secretariat stole a glance at the emperor, thinking how quickly the emperor had slipped into character—already adopting the posture of exploiting the incident for his own ends.

"Finding another Zhu Chongzhuo" referred not only to someone attempting to install a royal clan member as emperor, but also implied collusion with foreign enemies.

During the Jiajing era, the Jiajing Emperor cracked down on lawless imperial clans.

Among the Dai clan was a man named Zhu Chongzhuo, who gathered violent thugs, committed crimes and murders; when the prefect of Datong, Liu, tried to punish him, he was kidnapped, robbed, and humiliated.

Upon hearing this, the Jiajing Emperor immediately "revoked his stipend"; naturally, Zhu Chongzhuo "bore a grudge."

Among the outlaws he sheltered was a White Lotus follower named Cizhong Tai, who seized the opportunity to urge Zhu Chongzhuo to rebel.

The two quickly agreed, plotting a scheme: "Open Datong's gates, invite the Tatar forces, and rise to proclaim oneself emperor."

Zhu Chongzhuo not only sent White Lotus agents to negotiate with the Tatars, proposing "to invite the Young Prince into the pass."

He even circulated a proclamation: "Our dynasty's founding ancestor received the Mandate of Heaven, holding the Yuan's lands for over one hundred fifty years. This Mandate was secretly agreed upon by our ancestor and the Yuan ancestor in the golden casket. The Southern Court has enjoyed its Mandate for over one hundred seventy years—it is time to restore Youdu as the sovereign of the people, to reset the sun and moon and establish cosmic order."

It was clearly raising the banner of "Overthrow Ming, Restore Yuan!"

The elements here—court opposition, rampant heretical sects, secret foreign collusion—were not identical to the current Shi Mao case?

Add to this the fact that Liu Shiyan, Right Commander of the Five Military Directorates, openly rebelled in the streets and attacked the imperial carriage.

With precedent and immediate threat before him, the emperor, for his own future safety, must take direct command of the military—who could possibly object?

Wang Yingxuan watched Liu Shiyan still resisting below, and could not suppress a sneer—such a worthless nobleman was nothing but a pawn, easily manipulated by either rebel or emperor alike.

As he spoke, the door opened from outside; Li Jin dragged in a bound man: "Your Majesty, we captured a White Lotus rebel in the front courtyard—Liu Zhi, third son of Marquis Chengyi's household and commander of the training troops in the Five Military Camps."

Zhu Yijun turned his head to look.

Liu Zhi of the Five Military Camps was Liu Shiyan's nephew; in the first year of Wanli, he had been a battalion commander, promoted to Deputy Commander, but was demoted by the emperor for brawling in camp (Chapter 88).

Clearly, he had long harbored resentment, or he would never have allied with the White Lotus.

Zhu Yijun quickly turned his gaze away and said casually: "Perfect—send him to join his uncle."

He nodded toward the wooden box on the table—already prepared.

Finally, he sighed: "Pity—we're still missing a grandson."

Li Jin was about to retrieve the box but paused, bowing low: "Your Majesty, your servant is incompetent—Liu Laichen has taken refuge with the Tumeng Khan; capturing him will require more time."

Whether hiding under a false name in the countryside or fleeing to tributary states like Korea or Tibet, the Eastern Depot could always find him.

But with the Tumeng Khan, they were truly powerless.

Zhu Yijun shook his head, did not press further, and waved his hand: "Do not provoke the Tumeng Khan. Leave it at that."

The Tumeng Khan today was not the same as seven years ago—he had grown stronger each year.

Three years ago, the Tumeng Khan convened a Kurultai in the steppes with sixty thousand participants.

He appointed six chief ministers—Amudai Hong Taiji of the Chahar Tumen, Weizheng Subai of the Nergun Balin tribe, Kutuk Tai Chenchen Hong Taiji of the Ordos Tumen, Nuomudala Noyan of the Yongxiabu Tumen, and Chilike Hong Taiji of the Tümed Tumen.

He even promulgated the "Tumeng Khan Code," covering official appointments, marriage, law, and property—numerous provisions.

This was no mere regional warlord—it was state-building!

Worse still, the Tatars were planning to adopt Tibetan Buddhism to heal the rift between the Left and Right Wings.

Last year, Altan Khan and the Tumeng Khan reached an understanding: Altan Khan led over eighty thousand Right Wing nobles and followers to the Yanghua Temple in Qinghai, where he negotiated for seven days and nights with the Gelugpa leader Sonam Gyatso.

The outcome was unknown, but it was known that Altan Khan immediately converted and then bestowed upon Sonam Gyatso the title "Dalai Lama," bringing back the Buddha's sacred statue.

Since this year, Li Chengliang in Liaodong has repeatedly sent urgent reports: the Tumeng Khan's "sixty thousand iron cavalry" have been circling Liaodong, watching with predatory intent!

Under such circumstances, the court could no longer command the Tumeng Khan as before.

Li Jin immediately bowed and took the wooden box under his arm, then ordered men to escort the bound Liu Zhi out of the chamber together.

The room fell silent again.

Thunder crashed!

A flash of lightning illuminated the emperor's face; Zhu Yijun slowly opened his arms: "Zhang Daban, prepare my armor and horse."

Secretary Wang Yingxuan, bewildered, immediately knelt and urgently pleaded: "Your Majesty, your life is of priceless worth—how can you risk yourself?"

To shame the ruler is to invite death—how could the emperor personally take the battlefield?

Zhu Yijun smiled, helped him up, and explained: "Secretary Wang, you overthink this. This scene is simply the right moment to change clothes and tidy up loose ends."

With that, he nodded to Zhang Hong.

Zhang Hong, understanding, bowed respectfully to the emperor, then picked up the armor on the table and stepped swiftly to the emperor's side—as if he had long been prepared.

Gao Yi, standing nearby, opened his mouth to speak but fell silent; finally, he sighed, turned his wheelchair, and left the chamber.

Gao Yi, standing nearby, opened his mouth to speak but held back, finally sighing and turning his wheelchair to leave the side chamber.

Meanwhile, outside the hall, the Imperial Guards gradually closed in.

Inside, tables and chairs blocked the doors and windows; only shifting shadows could be seen, as if adjusting formations.

"My ancestor Liu Bowen's family heirloom, the Tuibeitu, foretold events for a thousand years! It predicted that Your Majesty would be possessed by an evil spirit in the sixth year of Longqing!"

"Have you not heard: two dragons cannot meet? Did you not notice how the emperor changed utterly before and after his ascension?"

"They say the Crown Prince was once of average talent, fond of calligraphy, sweet food, and never rinsing his mouth morning or night! Think carefully—is this truly the same man?"

"It was the Empress Dowager who noticed the signs, fearing the evil spirit's harm, and secretly dispatched us to restore order and install Prince Lu on the throne. If you doubt it, I have the Empress Dowager's token to prove it!"

"I urge you all—do not bring ruin upon yourselves!"

Liu Shiyan, knowing he was doomed, rambled wildly—any distraction he caused, even a fraction, was a free gain.

In mere breaths, he spun out half a dozen tales—now speaking of dragon veins warning of doom, now celestial anomalies, now demonic possession.

Even if he died here today, he would leave future rebels with some notion of heavenly mandate—after all, his ancestor Liu Bowen wrote the Tuibeitu, a tale the people loved most.

Even if Liu Shiyan died here today, it would still offer future rebels some insight into the Mandate of Heaven—his ancestor Liu Bowen's Book of Premonitions was the most beloved tale among the common folk.

At the very least, sowing discord between the Emperor and his mother or brothers would be worthwhile.

In the span of a few words, the formation was finally adjusted.

Liu Shiyan swept his gaze over the armored soldiers beside him, drew a deep breath: "Over the years, I've seized wealth from the common folk, amassing hundreds of thousands in silver. I kept only seventeen thousand for my kin—everything else was distributed. Those of you willing to die with me, I'll give your families five times as much—enough for them to vanish and live as wealthy men."

"Tell me—is it my sense of righteousness, or the Zhu family Emperor's?"

The armored soldiers on either side, upon hearing this, all choked up, moved to tears.

"Chengyi Bo's righteousness towers to the clouds!"

"Liu Gong's righteousness!"

"No matter what outsiders say, Chengyi Bo has never failed us!"

Liu Shiyan grinned satisfiedly, nodded slowly, and was about to speak—when—

Crack.

Four parabolic arcs suddenly appeared in midair—four wooden boxes, crashing down into the hall!

Eyes instinctively converged.

Before they could examine them closely, one of the wooden boxes suddenly burst open.

A human head shot out, leaping up an inch, rolling a few times, then landing at Liu Shiyan's feet.

The head came to a slow, drifting rest on the top of Liu Shiyan's foot.

The hall fell utterly silent.

Liu Shiyan stared blankly at the head at his feet, his face filled with disbelief.

How could this be!?

Weren't all my kin safely settled!?

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Liu Shiyan's eyes, slowly filling with bloodshot veins, trembled as he lifted the head with both hands.

He had never seen his son look like this before.

The familiar face, only now pale and ashen, utterly devoid of color, eyes wide open, fear distorting what had once been refined features.

Liu Shiyan bit his lip so hard his mouth filled with the taste of blood.

The soldiers beside him quietly and respectfully placed the other three wooden boxes before Liu Shiyan.

He gently took one, pried open a crack, peered inside with squinted eyes, then slammed it shut immediately.

He remembered his wife loved beauty—there were outsiders here; he couldn't let her look so ugly.

Liu Shiyan fell silent, then reached for another—ah, his nephew Liu Zhi. He felt no great sorrow; after all, he hadn't taken this nephew along when he fled with the family.

He stared at the fourth box, frozen for a moment—he no longer wanted to look.

Liu Shiyan suddenly drew a deep breath, then bowed low to the ground before the armored soldiers around him.

All around were stunned.

Liu Shiyan circled his bow, voice trembling, nearly pleading: "It's come to this—I ask for nothing else. Brothers, show me your righteousness—let me vent this bitterness from my chest!"

After a moment of silence, the men roared their assent!

…

"Exterminate demons! Uphold Prince Lu! Restore the rightful succession! Save the heavens from collapse!"

A ragtag slogan erupted suddenly within the inner courtyard of Gao Fu.

Liu Shiyan's private troops surged forward, fearless, silent, and solemn—charging straight out!

"Shoot!"

Jiang Keqian reacted faster, as if predicting it—he shouted the order!

Crossbow bolts instantly shot from gaps in the formation, piercing through several men at once!

"Block! Charge forward!"

Liu Shiyan gritted his teeth hard.

No shields? Use wooden planks, chair cushions, long blades—raise them above and before to guard vital points.

With this weather and distance, firearms were useless; crossbow bolts might not pierce armor—if you guard your vitals, you can survive to close quarters!

"Kill!"

Whizzing sounds like howls, clanging and clattering—most arrows fell harmlessly against armor and shields.

A few found perfect angles, lodging between armor and flesh, ignored by the fearless private troops.

As the formation shifted, the armored soldiers moved in perfect unison, closing in on the Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Seeing this, Jiang Keqian drew his long sword without expression.

He knew the ranged assault had already claimed over twenty enemy lives—his side held absolute advantage. He raised his sword, issuing a calm command: "Charge!"

Instantly, the imperial guards responded.

Crossbows withdrawn, shields and blades raised, spearmen surged through gaps—the formation snapped into place, advancing step by step, meeting the enemy!

"Fewer enemies, more of us! They're spent, we're full! They're weak, we're strong! Kill!"

"We've long received imperial grace—now is the time! Raise shields, thrust spears!"

"His Majesty is behind us! Annihilation or reward—lies in your single thought! Push forward!"

Shouts of battle erupted as both sides crashed together!

It seemed the entire Gao Fu rang with ringing in the ears.

Blood surged, waves of crimson splashed through the air.

The desperate troops, fighting with nothing to lose, fought to win.

The imperial guards, bound by lifelong imperial grace, fought with their backs to the wall.

In moments, bodies lay crisscrossed on the ground; those still standing trampled over corpses and crashed together again!

Liu Shiyan, not yet forty, a battle-hardened veteran with exceptional martial skill, now clad in armor, lunged like a starving wolf—his strikes wide and sweeping, felling every imperial guard before him.

He even had time to cover his private troops' flanks.

Amidst desperate defense and offense, his weapons were soon drenched in blood.

"Traitor!"

Seeing Liu Shiyan had no rival within five feet, elite soldiers immediately surged forward!

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The clang of metal on metal never ceased.

Together, fewer than a hundred men, after repeated clashes and bites, had forged a blood-fog so thick it rose steaming into the rain, piercing the sky above Gao Fu.

"Traitor, die!"

Jiang Keqian himself charged in, forming a unit with four bodyguards, blades flashing as they plunged into the rebel ranks, targeting Liu Shiyan alone.

Both sides fought to the death, tangled like muddy currents, groans and screams rising rapidly as casualties mounted.

In the chaos, Liu Shiyan was struck by several blades in an instant.

Though most were blocked by armor, he was still drenched in blood.

His eyes burned red, veins bulging, hands trembling.

"Liu Gong! We can't break through!"

"We're holding on by a thread!"

The men around him shouted desperately—but their voices sounded hollow.

Liu Shiyan looked around: over half his men lay dead; the rest barely held formation, all drenched in blood.

A sudden, inexplicable sorrow rose in his chest.

He hadn't even seen the Emperor's face—and now he couldn't take another step.

Liu Shiyan clenched his back molars, ready to give his final command, make one last attempt.

Suddenly—

The Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guard, equally exhausted moments before, suddenly rallied, pressing forward with desperate fury!

At the same time, more imperial guards filled the gaps in the formation, piling up—within moments, a dense wall of imperial troops stood before him!

Liu Shiyan looked up in shock.

Imperial reinforcements!?

In Liu Shiyan's mind, only an instant had passed—but in truth, the stalemate had dragged on long enough—now the front-gate guards had returned!

Is heaven itself determined to destroy me?

"Imperial troops stand before you! How long will you cling to resistance?"

"Surrender now—and you may yet live!"

Calls of surrender rose around him—some shrill, some eager—yet to Liu Shiyan, they sounded distant, unreal.

His lips parted slightly, as if to shout something back.

But he found his mouth produced no sound.

The imperial troops surged like a tide—easily over a hundred strong.

Several light cavalry charged in, shattering the already fragile formation.

Seeing all was lost, Liu Shiyan finally released all his strength.

He gave a bitter smile, licked his cracked lips, slowly raised his long sword, bared his neck, and pressed the blade's cold edge against his skin.

When all paths are cut, why fear death?

Better to end myself than let these Eastern Depot guards claim my head for their glory.

To reach this point and end by suicide is already a spectacular end!

Even if I descend to the underworld, I'll still be good for gossip!

With that, he glared furiously, stood tall, and swept his hands across his face: "Dog emperor! I fuck your mother!"

Shhh!

With a thud, a gush of blood suddenly spurted from Liu Shiyan's body!

Liu Shiyan flew backward several steps and collapsed to the ground.

He stared in shock at the two arrows embedded in his body: one had pierced his dark armor and driven deep into his right arm, felling him; the other had slightly missed its mark, lodged in his neck, its feathers still trembling.

Liu Shiyan gasped, struggling to push himself up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Qi Jiguang returning his bow to his saddle.

Another youth, clad in armor and mounted on a spirited steed, drew near with bow in hand.

"Bandage the Marquis of Sincerity—I still have use for this waste."

No sooner had the Emperor spoken than eunuchs stepped forward to bind Liu Shiyan's wounds and tie his ropes.

Liu Shiyan submitted passively, yet his eyes burned red as he glared fixedly at the Emperor, his whole body trembling.

Zhu Yijun's face was expressionless; he casually slashed his sword to trim the ends of the two arrows on Liu Shiyan, then turned away.

His gaze swept over the civil and military ministers who had rushed in to protect him.

"Summon Grand Secretary Wang Chonggu, Minister of War Chen Jingbang, all officers of the Five Military Directorates of rank Assistant Director or higher, and all assistant commanders of the garrisons in the capital—to the Imperial Camp Ground immediately!"

Zhu Yijun took the rope from Li Jin, confirmed one end was tied around Liu Shiyan's waist, then fastened the other to his saddle.

"All ministers present, follow me to the Imperial Camp Ground! Witness the execution!"

With that, Zhu Yijun spurred his horse and turned.

Civil and military officials and imperial guards naturally parted to either side.

The Emperor, clad in armor, dragged Liu Shiyan behind him, galloping away from the Wang Mansion, his escort of imperial troops thundering after without pause.

Only the stunned civil and military officials who had come to rescue the emperor remained, along with a bloody, chaotic mess on the ground.

(End of Chapter)