Chapter Twenty-Two: Closing the Net

After three days of covert collusion, all those harboring ulterior motives had found their own backers—some of the top-ranking tribute scholars had even been drawn into alliances. In the court, since Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang had not made his position clear and Crown Prince Zhu Biao remained behind closed doors, officials and nobles had grown anxious and restless. Though they had yet to openly take sides, the exchange of servants between various mansions became ever more frequent.

Just as everyone speculated about the future, the soldiers who had only been patrolling the streets suddenly began to act, armed with a list in hand. All scholars participating in the palace examination were rounded up and driven into a hastily vacated inn. Each scholar was locked in a separate room, forbidden to leave or even communicate with one another. Meals were delivered by designated attendants.

A eunuch stood in the inn’s main hall, his sharp voice echoing: “To prevent undue influences from disturbing your focus, His Majesty has ordered that you remain in your rooms to calm your minds before the palace examination…”

“This is just disguised house arrest! I want out!” protested one scholar, peering through the crack beneath his door.

Clang!

Before he finished speaking, a blade flashed through the gap.

“Stop your noise!” snarled the soldier outside, baring his teeth. “Protest? Do you really think protesting is some magical solution? If it weren’t for His Majesty’s mercy, I’d have killed you myself!”

“You’d dare kill me?” the scholar retorted, glaring through the door.

The soldier grinned. “So what if I did? Our orders don’t forbid us from killing you!”

The scholar, half-laughing in anger, shot back, “Fine, fine… When the examination is over, I’ll report you to His Majesty!”

The soldier scoffed, “Pass the exam first, if you can! Some people might not live to see that day!”

The scholar froze, alarmed. “What do you mean by that?”

He, like Zhou Yushan, had earned his place at the palace exam through protest.

“Ahem… never mind!” The soldier, realizing he’d said too much, feigned a cough and hurried away with his comrades.

“Wait! Explain yourself!” The scholar tried to reach through the door, but only a few fingers could fit through the narrow gap.

Zhou Yushan’s room was next to this scholar’s, and he had observed the entire exchange.

“Not live to see the examination…” Zhou Yushan pondered the words. Was there some other impending disaster?

“What could it be?” He ran through countless possibilities in his mind, but there was too little information to draw any firm conclusion.

Unable to find an answer, Zhou Yushan decided to try bribing the soldier with money, hoping to learn why “some people might not live to see the examination…”

But the soldier seemed to have vanished into thin air and did not reappear, even as night fell.

...

“Did you hear? A soldier was executed yesterday!” Early the next morning, a conversation echoed down the corridor.

Having slept poorly, Zhou Yushan had just lain down to catch up on rest when the words “soldier was executed” snapped his eyes open. He crept quietly to the door and pressed his ear to it, listening intently.

Innkeeper A said, “I saw it with my own eyes—it was the decurion on guard at our inn!”

Innkeeper B replied, “Poor man, what did he do? Oh, and I heard that at morning court, His Majesty announced he has no intention of deposing the Crown Prince, and that all who spread rumors otherwise would be executed!”

Innkeeper A: “Execution? Won’t that mean more deaths?”

Innkeeper B: “Of course. His Majesty, after all, is a man who would even kill his own son! My cousin’s cousin in the palace said that after court today, a prince knelt and begged for mercy in tears, but His Majesty refused to see him and had the Imperial Guards arrest him. He’s to be executed tomorrow!”

Innkeeper A: “Executing a prince? Which one?”

Innkeeper B: “The one who’s the Crown Prince’s full brother. Honestly, instead of coveting the heir’s position, he should’ve enjoyed his life as a prince!”

Innkeeper A: “If I were a prince, I’d spend my days siring heirs…”

Innkeeper B: “You? In your next life, perhaps…”

The conversation soon grew frivolous, but Zhou Yushan felt no inclination to listen further. Weak and drained, he stumbled to the bed, intending to lie down, but collapsed directly onto the cold floor.

The prince was arrested; all former promises were now empty words, and even his own life hung by a thread.

“What should I do? Flee?” Zhou Yushan lay on the icy ground, staring at the bare room and the window facing the street.

Crash!

A window shattered in the next room.

Moments later, a scream rang out from the street.

“What happened?” someone asked outside.

“That man tried to escape through the window. I was just patrolling and tried to arrest him, but he resisted, so I cut him down on the spot!” came the reply.

“Hand him over to the Ministry of Justice, then!”

...

“Centurion, why did that man try to run? Didn’t the Crown Prince say that if they confessed, their lives and their families would be spared, though they’d lose the right to sit for the examination?” someone asked.

“Who knows? Maybe the fool was out of his mind!” The centurion glanced at the tightly closed windows. “Some are still waiting for their patrons to rescue them, not realizing those patrons can’t even save themselves. It’s better to confess—at least your life remains your own.”

“Confess?” Zhou Yushan’s eyes lit up. He sat bolt upright. The prince was already arrested; it was only a matter of time before his own involvement was exposed. Rather than await disaster, it was better to come clean. The Crown Prince was merciful—he would keep his word.

Resolved, Zhou Yushan hurried to the door and shouted, “Let me out! I have something to say!”

He was quickly answered. Someone opened the door and led him out.

...

Inside a dimly lit room, Zhou Yushan sat trembling in a corner. Opposite him was a man whose face was lost in shadow.

“You want to live?” The man toyed with his teacup, his tone casual.

“Yes, I don’t want to die!” Zhou Yushan replied.

“Good. Then tell everything you know—not just to me, but to the entire city.”

Zhou Yushan hesitated. “But…”

“What is there to hesitate about? Your patron prince is already arrested, and that man in blue is in prison too. If you won’t speak, you can return to your room. By then, it won’t be as simple as a confession—you’ll be forced to choose how your nine generations will die: flaying or slow slicing…” the man said coldly.

“No… I’ll talk…” Zhou Yushan agreed at once.

“Good. There’s no time to lose. Go to North New Street now and tell everything you know, loudly and clearly. Once you’re done, someone will arrange for you to live elsewhere.” The man nodded in satisfaction and summoned two men to flank Zhou Yushan, making sure he wouldn’t change his mind.

...

As Zhou Yushan headed to North New Street, across the capital, scholars stood in public squares, recounting how they had been bribed and how they had spread the rumor that Zhu Yang was the Crown Prince’s illegitimate son.

At the very moment these confessions rang out, the City Patrol, the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and soldiers from the capital garrison launched raids throughout the city, rounding up those who took advantage of the chaos to loot, burn, kill, or commit rape.

Meanwhile, the commoners who had joined the protests, along with their families, were herded onto great ships. They would be relocated by Zhu Yang to distant lands, where they would contribute their labor to the mining industry.