noveltune Chapter 6: It's only natural for ancestors to beat their grandsons!
Chapter 6: It's only natural for ancestors to beat their grandsons!
Thick smoke billowed from Wanshou Palace, leaving it in a state of utter chaos.
Emperor Jiajing, Zhu Houcong, was thrown to the ground by the huge shockwave. His hair ornament was askew, his hair was disheveled, and his face was covered in black ash, making him look extremely disheveled.
He stared blankly at the deformed alchemy furnace and the mess of "immortal medicine" scattered all over the ground, his mind completely blank.
That alchemy furnace...
That was a precious furnace that the Ministry of Works used tens of thousands of catties of fine copper and hundreds of craftsmen to cast over three months!
His hope for immortality lies entirely in that!
"My elixir... my magic pill!" Jiajing let out a shrill scream, scrambling on all fours toward the pile of smoldering waste, trying to rummage through it for something.
He went mad, he screamed, they staggered, completely lacking the demeanor of an emperor.
Zhu Di stood still, looking at him coldly.
This guy is hopeless and utterly useless. I'm speechless.
"Immortality?"
Zhu Di spoke, his voice suppressing the rage of an impending volcanic eruption.
"Just these scraps of copper and iron, these poisonous sand ore?"
"What kind of immortality are you asking for!"
Jiajing froze.
He slowly turned his head, finally having time to see the face clearly.
In the swirling smoke, half of the face was in light, and half in shadow.
But both the outline and the eyes are exactly the same as the portrait hanging in the Imperial Ancestral Temple.
fear.
A fear that came from the depths of his blood and the very core of his soul instantly seized his heart.
"You...you...you are..." Jiajing's teeth were chattering, his upper and lower teeth clattering together, making a "clucking" sound.
Zhu Di stepped forward and, like picking up a chick, grabbed Jiajing by the collar of his Taoist robe and lifted him up from the ground.
Jiajing struggled desperately as his feet left the ground, only to find that the other person's arm was like an iron band, which he could not budge an inch.
"Open your dog eyes and see who I am!"
Zhu Di roared and brought Jiajing's face close to his own.
Eyes facing each other.
He saw it clearly.
Those eyes held mountains of corpses and seas of blood, vast landscapes, the domineering power of a ruler, and even more... the anger and disappointment of an elder looking at a younger generation.
"Emperor Cheng...Emperor Cheng...oh no...I mean...Emperor Taizong..."
Jia, Jing squeezed out these words from his throat, his voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, and his whole body went limp as if his bones had been removed.
It's really him!
It really is Emperor Yongle, Zhu Di!
Emperor Jiajing was not dreaming! Nor was he hallucinating from alchemy!
A man who had been dead for over a hundred years was now standing alive in front of him!
"Snapped!"
A crisp, loud slap landed heavily on Jiajing's face.
The slap was so powerful that it swelled up half of Jiajing's face, blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, and several loose teeth flew out mixed with blood.
Jiajing was so badly beaten that he saw stars, his head was buzzing, and he was completely stunned.
He...he got beaten up?
He was the Emperor of the Great Ming Dynasty! He possessed the wealth of the entire world and reigned supreme over all!
Who dares to hit him?
But the next second, when he saw Zhu Di's eyes burning with rage, all his grievances and anger instantly turned into endless fear.
Who hit him?
They were his ancestors.
He was the Yongle Emperor who moved the Zhu family's empire from Nanjing to Beijing, launched five expeditions to the Mongolian steppes, made seven voyages to the Western Ocean, compiled the Yongle Encyclopedia, and laid the foundation for the Ming Dynasty's two-hundred-year reign!
Ancestors beat their grandsons.
It's only natural!
"You bastard!" Zhu Di grabbed his collar, and with his other hand, he used both hands to attack him without any hesitation.
"Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!"
The crisp sound of slaps echoed endlessly in the empty hall, full of rhythm.
"Did I entrust this empire to you so you could cultivate immortality?!"
"Snapped!"
"You haven't held court for twenty years! Is this how you become emperor?!"
"Snapped!"
"The common people are suffering, the soldiers on the border are bleeding, and you're hiding here playing in the mud?!"
"Snapped!"
"Cultivating immortality? You dare call yourself cultivating immortality?!"
"And what's the deal with this temple name?!"
The more Zhu Di scolded him, the angrier he became, and the more he beat him, the more ruthless he became.
The kind of cowardly person he despised most in his life was someone who was idle and obsessed with vanity. Back when he launched his rebellion, how difficult it was! He personally led five expeditions to the northern deserts, each time facing imminent death.
The empire he risked his life for has been squandered by such unworthy descendants.
Emperor Jiajing was dazed and disoriented from the beatings, his face covered in blood. He cried out and begged for mercy, "Grandfather... please stop hitting me... I was wrong... I was really wrong..."
He wanted to hide, he wanted to run away, but in Zhu Di's hands, he was like a chicken waiting to be slaughtered, powerless to resist.
Zhu Zaiyi stood to the side, watching this scene quietly.
He did not stop it.
Because he knew that Jiajing deserved to be punished.
Moreover, only by using this most direct and brutal method can this emperor, who has been insane for twenty years, be completely awakened.
The few young Taoist priests nearby were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground, defecating and urinating incessantly, and dared not even approach.
Zhu Di slapped himself more than a dozen times until his hands were numb, before finally stopping, panting heavily.
He released his grip and threw Jiajing to the ground like a rag.
Jiajing lay on the ground, panting heavily, his saliva mixed with blood flowing all over the ground, whimpering and unable to speak clearly.
"Someone come here..." he shouted hoarsely, using the last of his strength.
Zhu Di snorted coldly: "Go ahead and scream. Even if you scream your lungs out, no one can save you today."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a series of chaotic footsteps came from outside the hall.
An elderly figure, supported by two young eunuchs, stumbled in.
It was Yan Song, the Grand Secretary of the current cabinet, who was eighty years old.
He rushed to protect the emperor after hearing that there was chaos in the palace and that assassins had broken into the West Garden.
Upon entering the main hall and seeing the scene inside, Yan Song's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
His Majesty the Emperor... the reigning emperor... was lying on the ground like a dead dog, his face covered in blood, his life hanging in the balance!
And an old man with white hair stood beside him, holding a sword and exuding a menacing aura!
"Protect the Emperor! Protect the Emperor!" Yan Song screamed at the top of his lungs. "Guards! Quickly, seize this traitor!"
The eunuchs and guards behind him, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, drew their swords and prepared to charge forward.
Zhu Di slowly turned around, his gaze falling on Yan Song.
"You are Yan Song?"
Yan Song felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head as he was swept by that gaze.
He saw Zhu Di's face clearly.
As the Grand Secretary, he presided over the annual sacrificial ceremonies at the Imperial Ancestral Temple. He knew that face better than anyone else.
Yan Song's body began to tremble uncontrollably.
His lips trembled, and his eyes bulged outwards in extreme horror.
"Yes...yes...yes..."
He hesitated for a long time, but couldn't utter a second word.
Zhu Di looked at him, a cold smile curving his lips.
He did not make a move.
He merely turned his gaze to the Jiajing Emperor lying on the ground and said calmly, "I can discipline my grandson myself. But when did it become the prerogative of a treacherous minister to interfere in my empire?"
After saying that, he glanced at Zhu Zaiyi.
"Rui'er".
"exist."
"Tell him what true cultivation of immortality is."
Zhu Zaiyi smiled slightly and extended his right hand.
A ball of blue flame silently ignited in his palm.
Samadhi Fire!
The flame had no heat, yet it exuded an aura that made even the soul tremble.
The entire hall was instantly enveloped in a layer of faint blue light.
Yan Song looked at the blue flame that appeared out of nowhere, then at the smiling young man, and then at the menacing "living ancestor".
His brain finally shut down completely at this moment.
With a "thump".
This cabinet minister, who had held immense power for twenty years and didn't even respect the emperor, rolled his eyes and fell straight backward, fainting on the spot.