Chapter 2

Chapter 2

——Are you kidding? Is this a matter to be elaborated on lightly?

Inside, Jiang Yuxun was screaming in panic.

...But closing his mouth was simply not an option.

"Since His Majesty ascended the throne, the citizens of the Great Zhou have been either at war or preparing for war. To this day, the treasury is depleted, and the people suffer. That's the first point."

The young man's words clearly reached the ears of everyone in the Lan Chi Hall.

Each word fell with weight and clarity.

All the court officials, civil and military, were silent as cicadas in winter, trying to minimize their presence.

The youth beside him closed his eyes in despair, even subtly moving a bit further away.

Just bury it, it's hopeless.

"All major and minor affairs of the state are decided by His Majesty alone, with the civil and military officials having little say. Over time, this has led to a lack of capable people in the court. That's the second point." Jiang Yuxun's body trembled slightly with tension, yet he remained seated upright, never kneeling.

A true ironclad resolve.

In the eyes of later generations, Ying Changchuan's excessive autocracy, leading to the state's over-dependence on him and the ineffectiveness of the officials, was a significant reason for the fall of the Great Zhou three days after his demise.

Jiang Yuxun's hands, originally resting calmly on his knees, had unknowingly clenched into fists.

Facing imminent death, he gradually regained his composure.

This time, Jiang Yuxun was certain that those thoughts, although genuine, were not what he intended to express.

But they were certainly not spoken willingly.

Everyone else time travels with a golden touch, yet here I am, burdened with a 'truth-telling' debuff!

Whenever Ying Changchuan asks, I blurt out whatever is on my mind.

Jiang Yuxun's voice echoed repeatedly in the vast hall.

In front of the embroidered screen, Ying Changchuan, having put down the golden cup at some point, rested his chin on his hand and nodded slightly, “What my minister says is very true.”

Very true?

Jiang Yuxun was momentarily stunned, then he heard…

“It seems, indeed, that I am a tyrant.”

Ying Changchuan's tone carried a hint of distress, slowing down his speech: “But my minister, you missed one thing.”

Jiang Yuxun’s palms, unknown to him, had been pricked blue by his neatly trimmed nails.

His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

Just as his breath was about to halt from nervousness, the person at the highest seat finally said with a light laugh, “Persecuting the loyal and good.”

...Persecuting the loyal and good?

Jiang Yuxun was a bit baffled; if he remembered correctly, Ying Changchuan in history had never done such a thing.

Could there be something I’m unaware of?

As Jiang Yuxun pondered, the gazes of those around him became increasingly strange.

Just then, a hand heavily landed on his shoulder.

‘Loyal and Good’ Jiang Yuxun was momentarily dazed before being seized by the imperial guards, who had appeared out of nowhere, and taken to the prison.

...I knew this guy was petty!

The imperial prison, filled with chilling winds.

Dressed in the distinct ochre of a prisoner, Jiang Yuxun sat hugging his knees in the corner of the cell.

He pulled his garment closer around him and looked out through the prison bars.

No wonder Ying Changchuan's reputation is so mixed, cursed by some even after thousands of years.

To think he'd actually take pleasure in being called a tyrant!

Heaven truly is blind.

Why was it me who had to travel back in time, and not that tourist who longed for the Great Zhou?

Just thinking of Ying Changchuan and that golden cup in his hand made Jiang Yuxun's teeth itch with hatred.

The next moment, another gust of cold wind, carrying who knows where from, swept into the cell.

The wind bore a strong scent of blood.

Unnoticed by him, it was already midnight.

In the deathly silence of the imperial prison, groans and cries of pain echoed from the corners, reaching Jiang Yuxun's ears.

Bravado aside about not fearing death, that dying would be a return home.

But once here, seeing the torture instruments adorning the walls, drawing near to death, under the primal urge of survival, Jiang Yuxun discarded the idea of resigning himself to his fate in just a second.

...I must struggle on!

But what can I possibly do in this situation?

He couldn't help but hug his knees tighter, burying his head as he recalled the history of the Zhou Dynasty.

"Jiang Yuxun! You must have the heart of a bear and the courage of a leopard to speak to His Majesty in such a manner," just then, a robust and powerful voice pierced through the thick walls of the prison, reaching Jiang Yuxun's ears, "Eager to join your parents in the afterlife, are you!"

A burly man with a scarred face approached the cell swiftly.

He arrived in haste, not having time to change out of his ceremonial attire, with the silver badge and green ribbon symbolizing his rank still hanging at his waist, followed by several soldiers.

Upon seeing this, Jiang Yuxun immediately stood up and walked to the cell bars.

He hesitated for a moment before tentatively asking in a soft voice, "...Minister Zhuang?"

If the historical records were correct, Zhuang Yue, one of the "Nine Ministers" of Great Zhou, had such a scar on his face.

"What, you can't call me your uncle anymore?" After speaking, Zhuang Yue sighed in frustration, as if lamenting his unfulfilled potential, "If it weren’t for your father’s sworn brotherhood with me and his life-saving grace to me, even if you were to be torn apart today, I would not have come to see you!"

...Zhuang Yue's sworn brother?

So that's how it is.

The original character turns out to be the son of Jiang Zhengxuan, the General who Conquered the South!

With this realization, a glimmer of hope arose in Jiang Yuxun's heart.

Ying Changchuan, despite his myriad flaws, was known for his generosity towards soldiers, given his own military background.

Especially those who sacrificed on the battlefield.

The campaign against the twelve southwestern states was no easy feat, and Great Zhou suffered heavy casualties.

Among them was Jiang Zhengxuan, the General who Conquered the South, who perished in battle.

Great Zhou practiced the "Hereditary Appointment System," where officials' children, once of age, could serve in the court.

The descendants of fallen soldiers were particularly favored.

My own reprieve from immediate execution must be due to the prestige of my original character's father.

Indeed, just as Jiang Yuxun had guessed, Zhuang Yue lamented, "Alas... At today's victory banquet, His Majesty intended to appoint you to an official position. Who would have thought, instead of becoming an official, you ended up a prisoner. Tell me, what were you thinking to speak such nonsense before His Majesty?"

Jiang Yuxun furrowed his brow, instinctively retorting, "I didn't speak nonsense."

Even after being thrown into the imperial prison, he didn’t believe he had said anything wrong.

He even firmly believed that even Ying Changchuan himself wouldn’t deny what he had said.

As the founding emperor, he understood the Great Zhou better than anyone.

But Ying Changchuan was always extremely confident, understanding all reasons and consequences, yet still believing he could control everything.

...After all, if he weren’t such a person, he wouldn’t have been able to monopolize the entire court.

But what if I tell Ying Changchuan something that even he doesn’t know?

Jiang Yuxun’s heart suddenly started pounding heavily.

He knew what he had to do!

Zhuang Yue looked deeply troubled, “According to the laws of the Great Zhou, your offenses today are enough for execution! Your father’s military merits might spare you from death, but not from punishment... you’re likely facing exile to the border.”

Exile was a life of nine deaths,

Hardly different from a death sentence.

“If you admit your guilt and show remorse, perhaps you might be exiled somewhere closer,” said Zhuang Yue, sighing heavily again.

Jiang Yuxun slowly clenched the prison bars.

Ying Changchuan was impervious to both soft and hard tactics; pleading with him was definitely futile.

Most importantly, under the influence of the debuff, pleading would most likely not only fail but also worsen his crime.

With this in mind, Jiang Yuxun steeled his heart and looked earnestly at Zhuang Yue, “Uncle, I don’t understand what crime I have committed?”

The youth’s voice pierced through the silence of the entire prison.

Jailers around the corner exchanged glances and gripped their long swords tightly.

Even the dying prisoners, hanging onto their last breath after being tortured, widened their eyes to see who was so fearless.

“You…”

Moonlight reflected in the young man's eyes, making his obsidian-like pupils shine brightly, “As a subject, one should speak truthfully and offer honest counsel, not just focus on self-preservation, acting as a mere figurehead in the court. If one enjoys the people's sustenance, then one should share their worries. If even this cannot be achieved, what’s the point of being an official?”

As he spoke, his voice began to tremble involuntarily.

His eyes also started to redden.

Jiang Yuxun had often thought while reading history: If only someone in the court had stood up, would the ensuing forty years of chaos and the loss of countless lives and homes have been averted?

But history is silent.

Leaving only sighs behind.

As his voice fell, Jiang Yuxun suddenly stepped back and knelt down, kowtowing three times heavily to Zhuang Yue: “Even if His Majesty executes me, I have no regrets.”

Zhuang Yue silently lowered his gaze, scrutinizing this younger relative he hadn't seen in years for the first time.

After a long silence, Jiang Yuxun looked up again at Zhuang Yue: “Uncle, I have an impertinent request... If possible, do not plead for me, but instead convey a message to His Majesty, a message I didn’t get the chance to say in the Orchid Pavilion.”

“There might be a heavy rain in Zhaodu today. The Yuyang Palace is at risk of being flooded. Please ask His Majesty to prepare in advance.”

Zhuang Yue looked astonished: “How do you know this?!”

It was early summer, a season prone to rain.

Not to mention, in recent years, the rainfall seemed even more plentiful than before.

Rain tonight wouldn't be strange, but the flooding of Yuyang Palace would be.

Such an event was truly unprecedented.

Jiang Yuxun smiled faintly and slowly stood up: “Just inform His Majesty of this. I will explain to His Majesty when the time comes. If the city isn’t flooded by the downpour, His Majesty can do as he pleases with me.”

His tone was as firm as ever.

Historical records state that after this victory banquet, a torrential rain flooded Zhaodu, including the Yuyang Palace, built by the previous dynasty.

Ying Changchuan's critics in later generations often used this to imply he was a tyrant disfavored by the heavens.

Jiang Yuxun was gambling.

Betting that the torrential rain would arrive as expected.

Betting that the historical records are accurate.

Ultimately, Zhuang Yue did not confront the matter directly, leaving behind a copy of 'The Laws of Zhou' for Jiang Yuxun to study thoroughly, admonishing him to etch its contents into his bones before hastily leaving the prison.

However, Jiang Yuxun is not worried that his words today will reach Ying Changchuan’s ears.

A joke? This is the imperial prison, after all.

His spies are everywhere.

-

"Oh? The flooding of Yuyang Palace."

A calm, slightly deep voice came from the other side of the screen.

"To His Majesty, indeed, those were Jiang Yuxun's exact words," the man in embroidered garments with a dark seal at his waist immediately kneeled in military salute, nervously replying.

Behind the intricately painted screen, Ying Changchuan chuckled lightly as if amused by something.

Then, surprisingly, he put down his vermilion pen, looking outside the hall with interest.

At the hour of Mao, the golden sun rose in the east, the sky clear for miles.

Where was there even a hint of impending rain?

"There are still nine hours left."

A voice from behind the screen asked in a lowered tone: "Your Majesty, should we now..."

"There's no rush."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The people in the hall bowed and withdrew, leaving only Ying Changchuan alone in an instant.

His smoky gray phoenix eyes narrowed slightly.

Ying Changchuan picked up the vermilion brush again, lifting his wrist to drop ink.

This time, only one word was written on the silk book: "Execute."

Author's note:

Drawing my sword, I look around bewildered; realizing that the loyal and the good were myself.