Mu Chun lay flat on his back on the bed. Having campaigned for many years, he considered himself a tough man, never imagining there would come a day when he could be so easily pushed down by someone.
With his belt pulled away, the bridegroom’s bright red auspicious robes immediately became like Dragon Prince after Nezha extracted his sinews—instantly soft and scattered. At the same time, according to the law of conservation of energy, energy doesn’t disappear but only transforms. As one thing softened, another hardened. Hu Shanwei felt uncomfortable being pressed against something hard, so she shifted her body, suspended herself above him, and leaned down to kiss him.
Mu Chun at this moment was like a powder keg stored for thirty-two years, full of explosive power. This kiss was the fuse—it ignited with just a touch.
Rumble… buzz…
Mu Chun’s brain seemed to have been blown into a honeycomb, full of holes. His rationality was blown away, his mind stopped thinking. He swept the person suspended above him into his arms and rolled deeper into the bed.
His lips were like spring bees, buzzing incessantly, incredibly industrious as they worked to fill the holes in his mind.
The great ship sailed on the broad river surface when sudden fierce winds arose, bringing violent storms. The boatman wielded a bamboo pole, navigating rapid waters between towering cliffs on both shores. Wind aided the waves’ momentum, rain aided the water’s force, and instantly shocking waves crashed against the walls, rolling up thousands of piles of snow.
With strong winds and urgent waves, the boat seemed about to capsize. Though the man at the bow holding the bamboo pole had no experience navigating rapid waters, relying on his raw strength, he stood firmly at the bow, wielding the pole left and right. Seeking dreams, he pushed the boat pole, slowly tracing toward where the grass grew greener.
After the rain cleared and clouds scattered, the full river gleamed with bright moonlight. With gentle winds and calm waves, the small boat traveled through the night—half the night’s heart, three lifetimes’ dreams, ten thousand li of road.
From Nanjing to Yunnan, the waterway stretched a thousand li, with rapid waters and dangerous shoals where masts tilted and oars broke, but also calm stretches with undisturbed waves spanning ten thousand acres. The boatman gradually became familiar with all conditions, progressing from inexperience to skill. By the time they disembarked, he had become a qualified boatman.
Speaking of Mu Chun and Hu Shanwei, they traveled day and night, journeying by boat. Except for occasional stops at riverside ports to replenish food, they were almost isolated from the world. The two rarely had an uninterrupted honeymoon period. These lovers, after fifteen years of trials, had finally become a married couple.
Meanwhile, the capital was also bustling with marriages. First was naturally the Imperial Grandson’s wedding, marrying Ma Shi, daughter of Ma Quan, an obscure impoverished scholar from Empress Xiaoci’s clan. On the wedding day, Ma Shi was invested as Imperial Grandson Consort and granted a golden seal and册册.
Crown Princess Lu Shi did not attend the wedding due to “illness,” only bestowing jewelry and hairpins upon her daughter-in-law.
To elevate the Imperial Grandson Consort’s status, Emperor Hongwu appointed the consort’s father Ma Quan as Junior Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, which managed horses—hardly influential in court politics, but perfectly suited since Ma Quan was also surnamed Ma.
Following this were the weddings of eight imperial grandsons including Imperial Second Grandson Zhu Yunting, the heir of Prince Qin, heir of Prince Jin, heir of Prince Yan, and others. Zhang Xiuchun from a small military household in Henan became the consort of Prince Yan’s heir. Three days later, Miss Guo, second daughter from one of the capital’s three great old noble families, entered Prince Yan’s mansion as a secondary consort wearing pink wedding attire.
On the same day, Princess Nankang married Hu Guan. Hu Guan was enfeoffed as Commandant of the Imperial Sons-in-law. Three days after the wedding, Hu Guan submitted a memorial to Emperor Hongwu, loudly proclaiming that his second brother Hu Yu’s entire family, the former Marquis Dongchuan implicated in the Lan Yu case, died unjustly. He severely criticized Jinyiwei Commander Mao Qiang for fabricating baseless charges and using severe torture to extract false confessions from innocent people, filling the imperial prison with vengeful spirits.
In the Lan Yu case, Emperor Hongwu transformed into the Ming Dynasty version of Thanos—with one finger snap, half the people died. Emperor Hongwu was even more formidable than Thanos. Thanos only struck once before stopping to admire flowers and sunsets, but Emperor Hongwu struck ten times consecutively!
In Nanjing, once filled with nobles and dignitaries, except for Duke of Faith Tang He who feigned madness and deafness, taking his entire clan back to their hometown Fengyang and withdrawing from the capital’s power struggles, the vast capital had only three remaining old noble families!
They couldn’t even gather enough players for a mahjong game.
Who killed all these people?
Jinyiwei Commander Mao Qiang. The capital’s number one executioner.
Everyone knew Mao Qiang was merely Emperor Hongwu’s blade, killing whomever the Emperor pointed to without personal emotion. To ensure loyalty, Mao Qiang never even married or had children.
But who dared criticize Emperor Hongwu?
Commandant Hu Guan was Emperor Hongwu’s new son-in-law. As a son-in-law, he couldn’t say Emperor Hongwu killed the entire Hu family, but criticizing Mao Qiang was different.
Under Hu Guan’s leadership, a wave of “eliminating treacherous ministers and purifying the ruler’s side” arose in court. Memorials impeaching Mao Qiang flew to Emperor Hongwu’s desk like snowflakes.
This tactic was historically as common as “monthly posts.” Under the basic feudal ethical rules of ruler being ruler and minister being minister, impeaching the monarch was forbidden because the monarch was the Son of Heaven and could not err. If mistakes occurred, they were blamed on treacherous ministers or favored concubines who misled the ruler.
Someone always had to pay for the monarch’s errors, like Chao Cuo of the Western Han and Yang Guifei of the Tang Dynasty.
Now, it was Mao Qiang.
Emperor Hongwu retained all memorials impeaching Mao Qiang without releasing them, but also didn’t explicitly prohibit “slandering” Mao Qiang.
Like Prince Zhaojing Mu Ying, Mao Qiang was one of Emperor Hongwu’s adopted sons and most trusted generals. However, Mu Ying always gained fame through military achievements—Grand Marshal of the third northern expedition, Vice Marshal of the first southern expedition. Whether his former title as Marquis Xiping or his posthumous royal enfeoffment, all civil and military officials were convinced, especially in Yunnan, where people regarded Mu Ying as “our father,” holding higher prestige than Emperor Hongwu himself.
But Mao Qiang was different. He always operated in shadows, leading the Jinyiwei and handling all unspeakable dirty work for Emperor Hongwu in imperial prisons.
Though both killed people, Mu Ying killed enemies of the Ming, resolving external conflicts. Mao Qiang killed entire families of court officials, especially in the Lan Yu case—from a capital full of nobles and dignitaries to only three remaining families. Under Mao Qiang’s sword, most were innocent, earning him universal condemnation.
Mao Qiang had too many “enemies.” Commandant Hu Guan was first to pounce and bite. Since Emperor Hongwu’s subsequent attitude was ambiguous, not punishing those who submitted memorials, and Commandant Hu Guan was the imperial family’s new son-in-law, court and countryside observed and speculated. They felt that if Hu Guan wasn’t somewhat confident, how would he dare bite the mighty Jinyiwei Commander Mao Qiang right after marrying the princess?
Thus, more people came to bite Mao Qiang, venting all their grievances on him.
Strangely, Mao Qiang himself didn’t submit the customary self-defense memorial, allowing court and countryside to pounce and tear at him.
When superiors aren’t anxious, subordinates become frantic.
Ji Gang stayed up all night, using all his wisdom to draft a self-defense memorial mimicking Mao Qiang’s tone and brought it to Mao Qiang. “Lord Mao, just copy this and I’ll submit it to the Emperor for you.”
“You can actually write memorials now?” Mao Qiang looked it over with interest and praised highly, “Though somewhat incoherent, at least there are no wrong characters. Ji Gang, you’ve truly improved. I thought you’d never become enlightened in a hundred years.”
“What do you care?” Ji Gang, whether from staying up all night or anxiety, had developed pimples on his pale face. “You’re being pointed at and cursed daily. If you don’t defend yourself, even the Emperor might not be able to protect you.”
Mao Qiang pushed aside Ji Gang’s drafted self-defense memorial. “Don’t worry, I don’t need such things.”
Ji Gang looked frustrated with his failure to succeed. “You, oh you, what can I say about you? Lord Mao, don’t be cowardly. They curse you, curse them back. When has our Jinyiwei ever feared anyone since its establishment?”
Mao Qiang merely smiled.
Seeing this, Ji Gang grabbed Mao Qiang’s official seal from the desk to stamp the memorial, implementing fait accompli. Mao Qiang didn’t compete or fight, letting him stamp it.
“I’ll submit this memorial immediately.” Ji Gang headed out with the stamped memorial.
“Wait.” Mao Qiang said.
Ji Gang turned around to see Mao Qiang holding a teapot. “Since you came and helped me so much, won’t you drink a cup of tea before leaving? Do you find the tea here too crude?”
Ji Gang grabbed the teapot and drained it in one breath, then showed the empty bottom. “Satisfied now, Lord Mao? I’m leaving.”
Before reaching the door, Ji Gang’s vision darkened and his legs weakened. Fortunately, Mao Qiang was quick, running to support Ji Gang in a princess carry, placing him in a prepared box.
Even while unconscious, Ji Gang tightly clutched the stamped self-defense memorial. Mao Qiang struggled to extract the memorial, finally placing a pouch of scattered silver and a letter in Ji Gang’s chest before closing the box.
Mao Qiang told the person standing in the doorway shadows, “Take him away. Don’t come back.”
The next day, Imperial Grandson Zhu Yunwen memorialized Emperor Hongwu, saying Jinyiwei Commander Mao Qiang fabricated charges and framed loyal subjects. He also said the Lan Yu case implicated too many and had become an excuse for officials to eliminate dissidents, mutually assign crimes, and frame each other. He requested Emperor Hongwu stop here, cease investigating anyone related to the Lan Yu case, and let bygones be bygones.
This move by the Imperial Grandson gained support from all civil and military officials. Some even wept with joy on the spot, praising the Imperial Grandson’s wisdom for curbing court abuses and eliminating the court tumor Mao Qiang.
Almost all ministers knelt and refused to rise, requesting purification of the ruler’s side, killing Mao Qiang, and redressing injustices.
Only two ministers didn’t agree.
One was Wang Ning, Mao Qiang’s former subordinate, now Commandant of Imperial Sons-in-law and Earl Yongchun. Since marrying Princess Huaiqing, Wang Ning stopped going to border campaigns, remaining in the capital handling “amnesty” work toward the Northern Yuan, successfully converting many high-ranking Northern Yuan officials to serve the Ming, even recruiting Zhang Yu, the Northern Yuan’s Privy Council Director (equivalent to today’s CIA director), to serve as a Ming official.
Wang Ning consistently handled intelligence work against Northern Yuan, specializing in this area without participating in other political affairs. When ministers impeached Mao Qiang, Wang Ning said, “Your Majesty, Lord Mao is an important court minister. Whether he’s guilty should be investigated and tried by proper authorities, with guilt determined and sentences pronounced according to national law.”
The other minister was Xu Zengshou, youngest son of Duke Zhongshan Xu Da, Mu Chun’s brother-in-law, uncle to Prince Yan’s heir and other imperial grandsons, and former capital’s number one wastrel.
Xu Zengshou yawned, seemingly never fully awake, saying, “I think Earl Yongchun is right. This is the court, not a marketplace where shrewish women quarrel, drowning people with spittle, with the loudest voice winning. Where is national law and order?”
Mao Qiang immediately removed his official robes, took off his hat, and knelt silently without speaking. Actually, from the moment Emperor Hongwu retained the memorials without releasing them, Mao Qiang knew his fate.
When birds are gone, good bows are stored; when cunning rabbits die, hunting dogs are cooked. This applied not only to founding ministers but also to those who slaughtered the ministers themselves.
To appease public anger and make ministers trust the Imperial Grandson, Emperor Hongwu had to sacrifice this adopted son.
Even Emperor Hongwu’s agreement to let Hu Shanwei leave the palace, distance herself from the capital, marry Mu Chun and retreat into seclusion was because he feared Hu Shanwei might complicate matters to protect Ji Gang, making the situation uncontrollable. After all, judging from past events, this female official Hu Shanwei was always the greatest variable.
Everything Hu Shanwei participated in ultimately spiraled out of control toward more chaotic outcomes. Emperor Hongwu, accustomed to controlling everything, simply “diverted disaster westward,” sending Hu Shanwei far from the palace.
The Hu family’s Marquis Dongchuan title was abolished, and except for Hu Guan, everyone in the Hu family was exterminated by Mao Qiang. When Emperor Hongwu chose Hu Guan as Princess Nankang’s consort, everything was already arranged. How would someone like Hu Guan, a pretty boy dependent on the imperial family for survival, dare to impeach Mao Qiang first without Emperor Hongwu’s authorization?
Because Mao Qiang saw through everything, he didn’t submit self-defense memorials and sent Ji Gang away before the storm arrived.
This fool whose elbow always turned outward, always revolving around Hu Shanwei—in the end, wasn’t it still me who saved you? Hmph…
Looking at Mao Qiang bowing in acknowledgment of guilt, Emperor Hongwu showed reluctance.
The Imperial Grandson cried, “Your Majesty’s wisdom—if Mao Qiang isn’t eliminated, public resentment cannot be appeased.”
All ministers agreed, denouncing Mao Qiang.
This scene was exactly like “The six armies won’t advance, what can be done? The beauty dies before the horse in vain”—the ruler covers his face, unable to save her!
Emperor Hongwu said, “Arrest criminal minister Mao Qiang for joint trial by the Ministry of Justice, Ministry of War, Ministry of Revenue, and Censorate.”
With Mao Qiang’s enemies throughout court and countryside, the trial results were unsurprising—he was convicted of “fabricating charges,” “accepting bribes,” “torturing for confessions,” “framing loyal subjects,” and ten other major crimes.
Mao Qiang didn’t deny any charges, signing and fingerprinting with incredible swiftness.
The Ministry of Justice pronounced sentence, condemning Mao Qiang to death by slow slicing.
When the case reached Emperor Hongwu, he held his vermillion brush suspended in air for so long the ink nearly dried before finally gritting his teeth and writing one character: “Approved.”
Emperor Hongwu ordered a nearby eunuch, “Tonight prepare a meal of Mao Qiang’s favorite dishes and send it over.”
That night, Mao Qiang ate his final meal with relish, even finishing the soup. He told the eunuch who brought the meal, “Please tell the Emperor that Mao Qiang thanks His Majesty’s grace. Mao Qiang has no regrets acknowledging His Majesty as adoptive father in this life. This life was given by His Majesty—without His Majesty, this humble minister would long ago have been food for the starving masses. Now that His Majesty wants Mao Qiang’s life to apologize to the world and appease public anger, Mao Qiang willingly complies. Long live our Emperor, long live, long long live.”
Mao Qiang ate with great appetite and slept soundly that night. This was the best night’s sleep he’d had since becoming Jinyiwei Commander. Everything was finally ending.