Zhao Hanzhang stood in a wine house looking down. From here, she could see the execution ground.

This time, thirty-eight people were being executed, all ringleaders and their household heads.

Among them, Xun’s father was the most furious, cursing the entire way, still cursing even as he was forced to kneel at the execution ground.

Although the watching common people hated Xun Xiu, facing Xun’s father’s aged face, especially hearing what he was cursing about, they still couldn’t bring themselves to throw the stones in their hands.

Xun’s father did not resent Xun Xiu for implicating him and condemning him to death—he only resented him for implicating him and his entire family in being expelled from the clan. What he kept cursing about was this matter. Just as the executioner’s blade was about to be raised, he finally finished his last curse: “You are not my son. If there is a next life, you will be the pigs and sheep in my pen, and I will surely slaughter you!”

Xun Xiu’s face was deathly pale. His forehead and face had been struck by stones, leaving marks. Now青 and white intermingled, looking quite ghastly.

Fu Tinghan, who had a diluted sense of clan concepts, found it very hard to understand. “Is being expelled from the clan more serious than having the entire family condemned and beheaded?”

Zhao Hanzhang said, “For people of this era, yes. Being expelled from the clan means having no ancestors. You can imagine a devout believer being excommunicated, abandoned by the deity they worship—it’s equivalent to spiritual exile. Chinese people worship their ancestors and believe the world after death is as important as life, so they place particular importance on this.”

“This is only one aspect. Additionally, upon expulsion from the clan, their names and deeds will be struck from the clan genealogy. Only a very small portion of people can leave a mark in the history books. For scholarly families, their means of leaving footprints is still in the clan genealogy.”

She said, “So once their names and deeds are struck from the genealogy, it’s very likely no trace of them will remain in this world. For them, this is equivalent to never having come to this world.”

Scholars always have some special ideals, such as leaving something behind in this world.

Even she had such thoughts. Having rarely come to walk through this world, one should always leave something behind in it.

Zhao Hanzhang thought, this time using chickens to warn monkeys should be effective for a period of time, right?

She didn’t know this was more than just effective.

Xun Xiu’s fate made the scholarly families and powerful clans throughout the realm tremble with fear. Rebelling—besides wanting to gain power and influence, wasn’t the greatest wish to bring glory to ancestors?

Originally, if a rebellion failed, at worst it was death. Eighteen years later, one would be a good fellow again.

To gain benefits, one always had to take risks—they understood that.

But the Xun clan’s fate made them realize that once they rebelled and failed, not only would they themselves die and their families die, they would also be expelled from the clan. Even after death, they would find no peace. Forget about being a good fellow again in eighteen years—eighteen years later they would likely still be lonely ghosts, finding it difficult even to enter the animal realm.

This risk was too great. Unless someone was particularly abnormal, no one would be willing to take this risk.

Even the Prince of Langya in the south was frightened by Zhao Hanzhang’s ruthlessness. Although he received Wang Han’s severed head, he dared not make a sound and silently accepted the head.

Naturally, Xuzhou also quietly changed to a new governor.

The Prince of Langya’s fief was in Xuzhou, so he had operated there for many years. If it were someone else going to be governor, they would definitely not be able to function, and even if they didn’t die, they would be manipulated by the Prince of Langya.

But… the person going was called Liu Kun.

This person Liu Kun had many flaws in Zhao Hanzhang’s view, but among the scholarly families he was held in the highest regard, and he possessed a certain charisma. As long as he wished it, he could become good friends with anyone.

Oh right, Duan Pidi, whom Zhao Hanzhang had brought as a hostage, was an excellent example.

In earlier years, Liu Kun relied on the Tuoba Xianbei, while Wang Jun cooperated with the Duan clan Xianbei. The two sides often fought, so the relationship between the Duan clan Xianbei and Liu Kun was very poor.

But in the historical timeline, after the Tuoba Xianbei had problems, Liu Kun was actually able to bypass Wang Jun and become good friends with the Duan clan Xianbei, forming deep bonds with Duan Pidi and others.

Unfortunately, in the end Duan Pidi still became suspicious of Liu Kun due to Wang Dun’s instigation and killed him.

Although Duan Pidi ultimately killed Liu Kun, deep in his heart he still liked Liu Kun very much. Ahem, Zhao Hanzhang raised this example just to tell everyone that Liu Kun was very successful in Xuzhou and quickly opened up the situation.

Xuzhou, having lost Wang Han as governor, not only did not fall into chaos but became even more prosperous. Some scholarly families even showed signs of distancing themselves from the Prince of Langya and leaning toward Zhao Hanzhang alongside Liu Kun.

Of course, they felt they were not leaning toward Zhao Hanzhang but toward the young emperor. The young emperor was the legitimate ruler. If they followed him, wouldn’t they end up like the previous Rebellion of the Eight Princes?

See, the situation the Prince of Langya had operated for over ten years was broken by Liu Kun after just a few banquets and concerts.

While envying this, Zhao Hanzhang issued orders to Liu Kun, commanding him to pay attention to people’s livelihood, prepare to establish schools in Xuzhou, take in refugees, and properly carry out the winter wheat planting work…

Of course, these were all currently the most minor matters in governance. Zhao Hanzhang was just mentioning them and issuing orders. What currently drew more attention in court were the funeral rites for several emperors, as well as their posthumous titles and temple names.

For their own emperor, the funeral protocol of the previous emperor was unproblematic, and posthumous and temple names were also not difficult. What was difficult was Liu Yuan and Liu Cong.

Half the people in court believed that Liu Yuan and Liu Cong were rebel subjects and traitors. Simply giving them titles like Grand General and posthumous names beginning with “Wu” (martial) was already giving them enough face.

But the other half believed this was inappropriate.

Whether they were willing to acknowledge it or not, the Han State of Xiongnu had truly existed. After Liu Yuan established his state, he also had achievements. Even if their positions were opposed, they could not deny Liu Yuan or the Han State of Xiongnu. This was respect for history and also a wealth that descendants deserved.

Moreover, the Xiongnu people still existed. Completely denying the existence of the Han State of Xiongnu was clearly not conducive to ethnic unity and peace in the realm.

So they believed Liu Yuan and Liu Cong should be given imperial posthumous and temple names. As for Liu He in the middle, forget it—his time as emperor was really too short, and they didn’t even know where Liu Cong had discarded his corpse. Since they hadn’t found the body, they might as well treat him as nonexistent and restore his previous title.

So the question arose: what posthumous names should Liu Yuan and Liu Cong receive respectively?

The full court of civil and military officials argued over this matter. Zhao Hanzhang, however, did not seem particularly anxious. She would occasionally listen to opinions, but more often handled other government affairs, taking advantage of many people’s attention being diverted to dispatch the people under her command.

Zhao Kuan was also about to receive his orders to go to Qingzhou. He would travel together with Sun Linghui. After selecting the time, he found an opportunity to bid farewell to Zhao Ming.

He didn’t come empty-handed—he brought a box of medicinal plaster. “Uncle Ming, this is plaster made by a wandering Daoist I know. It’s particularly effective. Please try it.”

Zhao Ming’s gaze fell on the box and he frowned. “What would I use this for?”

Zhao Kuan said, “After Cousin Shen kicked you, haven’t you been having back pain? Use this to apply it.”

Zhao Ming’s face darkened. “It’s long healed. I don’t need this. Take it back and give it to your father.”