Volume 1, Chapter 51: Eradicate Them All
Zhu Youjian walked alone through the imperial garden, the midday sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. He had removed his heavy dragon robe and now wore only simple clothes, letting the breeze brush gently against his face.
“So many years...” he murmured to himself, “this is the first time I’ve had the chance to walk here quietly.”
The garden was lush with carefully tended flowers and trees. Beneath an ancient plum tree stood a stone bench.
Zhu Youjian sat down on the bench, gazing at the lotus leaves floating in the pond. A gentle breeze stirred them, producing a soft rustling sound.
“Wen Tiren...” he whispered, “whose pawn are you, after all?”
Fish swam beneath the water, sending ripples across the surface. He recalled the prisoners who had died; all of them had spoken the same words before their end.
Wen Tiren was only the beginning.
“Your Majesty,” Wang Cheng’en spoke softly, “the tea has arrived.”
Zhu Youjian accepted the cup, the fragrance of freshly brewed Longjing tea rising in the air—this year’s harvest, still carrying the breath of spring.
He took a delicate sip, his gaze drifting to the distant palace walls.
There, Wen Tiren’s corpse still hung on the city gate.
“Wang Cheng’en,” he said suddenly.
“At your service,” she replied.
“Tell me... why do all these people carry poison with them?”
“Perhaps...” Wang Cheng’en hesitated, “they fear revealing secrets they shouldn’t speak.”
Zhu Youjian sneered coldly. “Yes, secrets they would rather die than reveal.”
He rose and strolled slowly along the stone path. The garden bloomed with flowers of every kind; some had already blossomed, while others remained tightly budded.
“These flowers...” Zhu Youjian said, “were they planted during the reign of the Great Ancestor?”
“Yes,” Wang Cheng’en answered, “over two hundred years ago.”
He paused before a peony bush. Dew still clung to its petals, sparkling in the sunlight.
“I remember...” he murmured, “Mother loved these peonies most of all.”
He plucked a petal and held it in his palm. It was soft and delicate, carrying a faint coolness.
“Fetch the ledgers,” he commanded abruptly.
“As you wish,” Wang Cheng’en bowed and withdrew.
Zhu Youjian continued his walk through the garden. Each step seemed to awaken memories.
When he was a child, he often played here. Eunuchs always followed closely, afraid he might fall.
Back then, everything was so simple.
Wang Cheng’en soon returned, carrying a stack of ledgers.
Zhu Youjian sat down in the pavilion and opened the first book.
Sunlight filtered through the vines, casting mottled shadows over the pages.
Every figure recorded a secret. Every name concealed a story.
“This person...” Zhu Youjian pointed to a name. “Have you found anything?”
“Your Majesty, the investigation continues,” Wang Cheng’en replied, “but...”
“But what?”
“Those we have traced are all dead.”
Zhu Youjian closed the ledger. “All poisoned themselves?”
“Yes.”
He stood and walked to the edge of the pond. The water was clear, reflecting his image.
“Let me see...” he sneered, “how many more are willing to die.”
At that moment, Wei Zhiren hurried over. “Your Majesty!”
“Any findings?” Zhu Youjian asked.
“Yes.” Wei Zhiren handed him a letter. “Discovered in a merchant’s household.”
Zhu Youjian unfolded the letter and scanned its contents; a cold gleam flickered in his eyes.
“Interesting,” he said with a cold smile.
The letter bore only four characters: “Who in the world?”
These were identical to those on the note left by Wen Tiren.
“Keep searching,” Zhu Youjian ordered. “I want to know who wrote this.”
“Yes,” Wei Zhiren bowed and left.
Zhu Youjian resumed his stroll. The sun began to dip westward, casting long shadows on the ground.
“Wang Cheng’en,” he stopped suddenly.
“At your service.”
“How many more like these are there in the court?”
Wang Cheng’en bowed her head, unwilling to answer.
Zhu Youjian sneered. “I’d like to see how long they can keep hiding.”
He approached the ancient plum tree. Its trunk was thick and gnarled, bark etched with the marks of two centuries.
“Great Ancestor...” Zhu Youjian gently touched the bark. “Did you ever imagine this day?”
The leaves rustled softly, as if whispering untold stories.
He looked up to the canopy, sunlight filtering through the branches, scattering flecks of gold.
“Tell Wei Zhiren,” he suddenly said, “I want to know the whole truth.”
“Yes,” Wang Cheng’en responded promptly and left.
Zhu Youjian continued his walk, each step seeming to tread deeper into memory.
How many rises and falls had these plants witnessed?
He returned to the stone bench and sat again.
From afar came the sound of bells; it was nearly three-quarters past noon.
Zhu Youjian gazed at the lotus leaves in the pond, his thoughts drifting far away.
“Your Majesty,” Wang Cheng’en spoke softly, “it’s time to eat.”
“Wait a little longer,” he waved her off gently, “I need to think a bit more.”
Sunlight bathed him, casting a golden glow.
He knew the truth lay just before his eyes.
Those who died, the secret letters, the ledgers—
Everything pointed to the same answer.
Yet, this answer—
Zhu Youjian stood and looked toward the distant palace wall.
“Let’s go,” he said to Wang Cheng’en. “Return to the palace.”
He turned to leave but suddenly paused.
“Wait.”
“Your Majesty, any further orders?”
He looked at the peonies. “Destroy these flowers...”
“Uproot them all.”
Wang Cheng’en was taken aback. “This...”
“I said, uproot them!” Zhu Youjian’s voice was sharp.
“Yes,” Wang Cheng’en bowed deeply.
Zhu Youjian strode away, leaving the garden filled with the lingering scent of flowers carried on the wind.