Chapter 980: Could Not Bear It (300-Vote Bonus Chapter)

Qiao Shan sighed, cupped his fists in salute, then stepped back two paces. Zhao Jin shook his head and drew the blade at his waist. When the Prince of Lu saw the cold, glittering steel, he finally realized what was happening. He tried to shrink back, but was pinned firmly in place. The prince's tears streamed straight down as he wept and pleaded, "Do you realize this is rebellion? This is a crime punishable by the extermination of your entire clan! Spare me, spare me — you can have anything you want, gold, silver, jewels, treasures, anything — but not those paintings..."

Zhao Jin remained composed, but the men behind him were first astonished, then their faces showed contempt and scorn. So this was a lofty, exalted feudal prince — in truth, nothing but a cowardly good-for-nothing.

"You won't live past today. Show some dignity. Display a little of a prince's bearing." Zhao Jin spoke flatly. The weak, feeble pleading grated on him. As for the Prince of Lu's mettle — it was not even worth mentioning. He seemed little different from a woman, and not even the equal of those women who stand at the door and hold the household together. He was exactly the sort of utterly useless, effete wastrel raised from childhood without ever leaving the house, growing up only among women and eunuchs. Though later ages might romanticize such worthless trash as romantic and refined, in the end, trash was trash.

Hearing Zhao Jin's words and seeing Zhao Jin and the masked, grim-faced brawny men behind him, the Prince of Lu collapsed to the ground in a sitting heap. To be suddenly told your death had come, when moments before you were in the lap of wealth and tender comfort — how could he not break down? Instantly, tears and snot streamed down, smearing his whole face. Aside from the two eunuchs, who remained relatively composed, all the women and the Prince of Lu burst out crying together. The Prince of Lu wailed even as he wept, "Why do you want to kill me? I have never done anything wrong. I have never left Ziyang City a single step since childhood. I have been filial to my parents, cherished my wife and children, and even given relief to the local people. I have done so many good deeds — why kill me!"

Even his self-address had become confused. Zhao Jin, who had raised his blade, lowered it again and spoke: "You have done no evil, but how much coin and grain does the Prince of Lu's line of imperial kinsmen consume each year? Where does that coin and grain come from? It comes from the common people of Shandong. They toil for an entire year, and their harvest is taken away in its entirety. They never eat their fill, never dress warmly enough. They may freeze or starve to death come winter. When famine strikes, they either die or become wanderers, and then die on the road. How do you reckon those lives? You did not kill them with your own hands, but every meal you eat, every garment you wear — in everything, there are the lives of Shandong's common people. Do not think yourself wronged!"

"You are cult demons! You are incense-burning demons! I have always been merciful to your kind. How many incense-burners and worshippers are there in the prince's estate — I have always..." the Prince of Lu shouted out.

"Tedious." Zhao Jin muttered a single word, then raised his blade again. He heard someone behind him speak: "Commander, let your subordinate deliver this stroke!"

Zhao Jin paused, then nodded and stepped back. Ma Chonghao stepped forward. Only after Zhao Jin had fully withdrawn did Ma Chonghao draw his own blade. He understood perfectly — had he drawn his blade a moment sooner, he would already be a dead man.

Blood sprayed. The Prince of Lu's head was hacked off. The women in the room could not hold back their shrieks. Ma Chonghao glanced back, saw Zhao Jin nod, and showed not the slightest mercy. Blade after blade fell — not a single living soul was left.

"Check the hidden passage. See if anyone is hiding there. Then set the fire." Zhao Jin gave the order coldly.

The household troops acknowledged and moved swiftly into action. By the time thick smoke began to rise, Zhao Jin and his men had already left the inner compound. Responses came from every quarter — all those marked for death had been killed. Flames began to flicker and thick smoke billowed everywhere. Even a princely city was mostly built of wood and earth — it could not withstand fire.

Some men scattered the various tokens and ritual implements of the Smelling Incense Sect in places the fire would not reach. Occasional shrieks and wails rose from the inner and outer compounds of the princely city, but soon silence fell. By this point, there were few left to cry out, and even those who could cry out dared not make a sound. But with the delay, they had no way to escape this inferno either.

There was not much that needed to be inspected. One severed head was brought before Zhao Jin. One of Qiao Shan's "relatives" took a look and confirmed, "This is the Administration Clerk, Wen Jun."

Then a dozen or so shivering women, children, and elderly were brought over. Qiao Shan's face was filled with emotion, and those across from him burst into tears as well. Qiao Shan only said over and over, "It's good that you're safe, it's good that you're safe. We'll talk once we're out!"

The head was discarded once identified. Qiao Shan's dozen or so family members were placed onto a large cart. Zhao Jin's company departed the princely city amid the raging flames. By this time, Ma Chonghao could already move freely around Zhao Jin, advancing and withdrawing at will, just like the other guards. Having personally killed a feudal prince, there was no path left for him in the Great Ming — not even the Emperor could save him. This "pledge of allegiance" made him trustworthy.

"General, killing so many women and children — does your heart not find it unbearable?" Now trusted, Ma Chonghao had grown considerably more casual. He was quite curious about Zhao Jin's state of mind and boldly asked this and that. Many around him glared at him angrily.

"I do find it unbearable." Zhao Jin answered crisply.

This answer caught Ma Chonghao off guard. He had expected Zhao Jin to be cold-hearted, or to force a ruthless facade — he had not expected such a straightforward reply.

"But so that more women and children may live, I will kill even if I cannot bear it." Zhao Jin added. Though they were still within Ziyang City, the great task was done and his mood had relaxed; it was inevitable he would say a few extra words.

Ma Chonghao paused, then laughed and shook his head, saying nothing further. The road was now more crowded. Many people were climbing onto walls or opening their doors to step into the street, gazing toward the flames at the princely city. Many others were hurrying in that direction. Zhao Jin's company had already removed their masks and simply pressed onward with heads lowered. In any case, seeing their murderous, bloodstained appearance, no one dared stop them to ask questions.

They made their way all the way to the encampment at the city gate. Along the route, some had already sensed something was wrong, but who would dare openly question or provoke a thousand-odd soldiers? They merely turned and headed off to report the news somewhere.

The city gate area was a cacophony of noise — clamor both atop the wall and below. Some were shouting, "These government troops outside the city are suspicious — we must not open the gate and let them in!" Others shouted, "What's suspicious? They're our brothers, same as us!" Only when Zhao Jin and his men arrived did the wall fall quiet — perhaps they had not expected this large force to be absent from the city.

"Scatter these men. Open the city gate." Zhao Jin wasted no words and gave the order directly. His household troops immediately dismounted and joined up with their comrades stationed there. Some charged toward the gate; others rushed up onto the wall.

Assuming that Zhao Jin's company of government troops was "garrisoned" there, Ziyang City's defenders had shifted their strength to the other city gates. As a precaution, they had assigned just over two hundred men to keep an eye on this gate. But that paltry force was no match for Zhao Jin's company attacking at full strength. Amid cries of alarm and agony, men scattered in all directions. In truth, by the time the main force charged, the gate had already been taken.

The gate was opened and the drawbridge lowered. On the opposite side, a force was already waiting. This force, however, looked nothing like the disciplined, grim order of Zhao Jin's company — it was utterly disorganized. Were it not for the several dozen riders, one would have taken it for a refugee army. But in the darkness of night, even with lanterns on the wall, it was hard to see clearly; one could only form a rough judgment.

Zhao Jin's household troops split into several groups. Some secured the top of the wall, holding several key points — after all, the wall was connected throughout, and once word spread, the other contingents would come attacking soon. Some went to organize the supplies. Others monitored the newly arrived force entering the city, holding up lanterns for a closer look. It was indeed a refugee army. These captured refugees had no idea what was happening; every face bore a look of bewilderment.

The uproar within Ziyang City grew louder and louder. Even at the city gate, one could see the flames and smoke rising within the city, and hear the panicked shouts and chaos from every direction. Whenever fire or disorder broke out in a city at night, the fire and disorder themselves were minor matters — but they would incite looting and plunder. A small matter would become a great calamity, and the entire city would suffer. Such precedents were far from rare.

"This is Ziyang City! Inside there are gold, silver, and women! Do as you please — whatever you seize is yours!" Someone shouted loudly at the refugees. The refugees only looked more baffled, utterly unable to grasp what was happening.

"When you act, you must shout 'Maitreya descends to the world, revive the blessed flame!' and 'Western Paradise Kingdom, burn incense for long life!' We will be right outside the city. If you don't shout, we will come in at once and slaughter you. If you try to flee the city, we'll be waiting outside to chop off your heads. The weapons are over there — each of you take one. Move!"

The refugees were completely bewildered, but the moment anyone moved too slowly, a blade came chopping down. Who dared disobey in the slightest? And the thought of running rampant in this wealthy city stirred a wicked fire burning in many hearts. They were doomed anyway — better to sate themselves before dying.

There were blades and axes, and also sharpened wooden stakes and bamboo spears. The only "considerate" provision was torches — several hundred had been prepared for them in advance, one for each man. Once they had taken up weapons and torches, the "government troops" immediately drove them toward the city interior. Archers on the rooftops watched them like hawks. Whoever dared not move, whoever dared not shout — an arrow would come flying at once.

"Maitreya descends to the world, revive the blessed flame!" "Western Paradise Kingdom, burn incense for long life!" The two slogans swelled from a murmur to a roar, shaking every quarter with growing force. A thousand-odd people shouting in unison was startling enough. They began entering the nearest houses and residences. Wails, panicked screams, and furious roars all erupted.

Few in Ziyang City could sleep now. The Prince of Lu's princely city was the very symbol of Yanzhou Prefecture's seat. From the moment this city was first built, that princely city had existed. It had always stood lofty and unshaken; no disaster or mishap had ever threatened it. No one had imagined it would catch fire tonight — and such a great fire at that. An indistinct thought stirred among the gentry and commoners of Ziyang City: the heavens were about to change.

In the midst of this wakeful turmoil, they heard shouts and chaos erupt from another direction in the city. No one was surprised by this. Whenever trouble arose in the city, local ruffians and vagrants would always loot and plunder, seizing the chance to indulge and make a fortune. What truly worried everyone was whether the government troops that had entered the city today would join in the rampage — that would be a true catastrophe. Otherwise, a single squad of bailiffs could easily put down these ruffians.

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