We have fought to the Arctic Circle, and you want me to inherit the throne?

Chapter 1181 Visiting the Gao Family Village

With the evidence clear, the next step was to commit murder.

Day 1, at the western market entrance of Chang'an City.

At 3:45 AM, the seven main culprits were brought to the execution platform.

Wei Li led the group, all of them bound hand and foot, with death warrants stuck in their backs, the ink still wet.

The executioner was a general from the Governor's Office. He sat upright under the eaves, expressionless, and began to read out the charges.

Embezzling military pay, withholding rations, using inferior goods, and falsely reporting numbers...

Each and every one of these cases is documented in black and white, irrefutable evidence.

The crowd of onlookers was so large that it was impossible to move. Some people pushed forward, some climbed trees, and some carried their children on their shoulders.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The crowd roared and shouted in unison.

Wei Li knelt on the platform, his face ashen.

After reading the last word of the indictment, the garrison commander took out the fire token and threw it on the ground.

"cut!"

The executioner swung his broadsword in a wide arc, a bright flash of light streaking across the sun.

puff--

Blood spurted three feet high, and heads rolled off.

The cheers were deafening.

The next day, another ten heads were taken.

The third day brought the number to twenty.

The ground at Xishikou was stained dark red in the cracks between the bluestone stones, making it sticky underfoot.

The stench of blood, mingling with the warming April air, wafted across half the street and lingered for a long time.

The number of onlookers gradually decreased.

It's not that ordinary people don't hate corrupt officials, it's just that so many heads have been shed, it's almost frightening, and the weight of it on their hearts makes it hard to breathe.

The old man selling sesame cakes on the street corner packed up his stall and muttered to his neighbor, "They've been killing for three days now, how many more are they going to kill...?"

The neighbor didn't reply, but just lowered his head and packed up his own stall.

The powerful families and officials in Chang'an have been suffering more than the common people these past few days.

When the Embroidered Uniform Guards arrested people, they dared not ask questions.

They dared not watch the murder in the West Market.

But the knife seemed to be hovering above his head, ready to fall at any moment, which was even more terrifying than if it had fallen directly.

Several surviving officials secretly met, not daring to do so at their own residences, but instead arranged to meet at a secluded restaurant in the south of the city.

After a few rounds of drinks, someone lowered their voice:

"This time, His Majesty... is serious."

"The Wei family is finished. Their foundation, built over two dynasties, was confiscated and they were killed without a second thought. We..."

No one responded.

The candlelight illuminated the pale faces.

After a long silence, an old official slowly put down his wine cup, his voice hoarse:

"From now on, you are not allowed to touch a single finger in the government's public accounts."

No one refuted this.

Outside the window, the night was as dark as ink.

In the distance, from the direction of Xishikou, a faint smell of blood seemed to linger on the wind.

Unlike the officials, the powerful families of Chang'an were furious.

On the day Old Master Wei was dragged from his sickbed by the Imperial Guards, the heads of more than a dozen aristocratic families in the city also gathered overnight.

After several rounds of drinks, someone slammed their fist on the table and stood up, saying that His Majesty was going too far, that this was an attempt to cut off the path of powerful families, and that even a rabbit will bite when cornered.

But when it came to how to deal with it, the room fell silent.

After Li Che entered Chang'an, how many capable servants did each household still have?

Let alone undertaking any major undertakings, even the servants and yamen runners of the government office could easily suppress them.

Someone whispered that it would be better to write to the court and contact the upright officials to impeach the Embroidered Uniform Guard for abusing its power.

This time, not a single person responded.

Everyone knows that nowadays, half of the officials in the Six Ministries are former ministers who followed His Majesty into the throne, and the other half are newly rich from humble backgrounds.

Those so-called court officials have long been subdued by His Majesty.

As the banquet ended, the dozen or so family heads boarded their respective carriages and disappeared into the deep night of Chang'an, without further mention.

When Li Che learned of this, he was reviewing memorials at the imperial palace.

The Imperial Guards reported on the gathering of aristocratic families in great detail, including who slammed the table, who spilled wine, and who almost tripped when leaving the house.

Qiu Bai was grinding ink on the side, stealing glances at His Majesty's expression.

Li Che didn't even look up, only saying indifferently:

"He got angry in a fit of rage."

Then he continued to review his memorials.

Qiu Bai pondered these words for a long time, then couldn't help but lower his head and laugh.

. . . . . .

On the day all the corrupt officials were executed, a light rain fell in Chang'an.

The bloodstains on the bluestone pavement were washed away by the rain, and the pungent smell of blood could no longer be detected at Xishikou.

Vegetable vendors returned to their stalls, their shouts echoing through the damp air, just like always.

Li Che left the palace early that morning.

Without moving the imperial carriage or ceremonial guards, he only took Qiu Bai and twenty personal guards, traveling light and leaving through the west gate of Chang'an.

"Your Majesty, where are we going?" Qiu Bai asked in a low voice as he rode alongside.

Li Che did not answer, but gently spurred his horse, and Black Wind quickened its pace.

Qiu Bai looked in that direction and then stopped asking.

That's the direction of Gaojiazhuang.

From afar, dust and smoke could be seen rising from the trees at the village entrance. The shepherd boy dropped his whip and ran towards the village, shouting as he went:

"People are coming! On horseback! Lots of them!"

Master Gao was feeding chickens in the backyard when he heard the noise. He carried a basket and came out shakily to greet them.

When he saw the person who had dismounted from the horse, he froze for a moment, then threw the basket on the ground and was about to kneel down.

"Your Majesty..."

"Don't kneel." Li Che strode forward and helped him up. "I told you, this isn't allowed here."

With his arms held up, Master Gao couldn't kneel down, so he had to stand up straight, his cloudy old eyes gleaming.

"Why has Your Majesty come?" His voice trembled slightly. "Didn't everyone say you were going back to the capital..."

"Yes, we'll leave tomorrow." Li Che released him and looked around the farmhouse with his hands behind his back.

It was no different from when I came before. The jujube trees had sprouted new branches, chickens and ducks were pecking at food in the corner, and a few pigeons were perched under the eaves, cooing.

He sniffed, catching the smell of firewood wafting from the kitchen.

"He came to mooch a meal from the rich man before leaving."

Master Gao was stunned for a moment, and then a gap-toothed, snarling smile spread across his wrinkled face.

"Eat! Eat!" He hurriedly went to the kitchen. "This old man will kill a chicken right away. Your Majesty, please come inside and have a seat!"

He took two steps, then turned back and shouted into the yard, "Go to the cellar and get that jar of ten-year-old millet wine! Quickly!"

The meal lasted from midday until dusk.

Master Gao brought out all the good things he could from the estate: the old hen soup was stewed until golden, the rabbit meat simmered in yellow wine was tender and fell off the bone, the newly sprouted shepherd's purse was blanched and mixed with dried tofu, and there was also a dish of pickled mustard greens that had been pickled all winter, crisp and delicious, perfect with rice.

Li Che ate very slowly, trying a little of everything.

Master Gao sat opposite him, barely touching his chopsticks, only holding his wine cup, occasionally taking a sip, but mostly just watching Li Che eat.

"Your Majesty," he finally couldn't help but ask, "is this chicken any good? I've been feeding it for a whole year, not a single grain of bran, just grain."

Li Che swallowed the piece of meat in his mouth and nodded: "It's better than what the imperial chef makes."

Master Gao then laughed so hard that his eyes disappeared from his grin.

After a few rounds of drinks, the old man gradually opened up.

He said the wheat in the village is growing well this year, thanks to ample rainfall, and he estimates that the harvest will be 20% higher than last year.

He said that Old Wang's family in the east of the village had a big, fat baby boy, weighing seven pounds and eight ounces, whose cries were deafening.

He said that the farmers all praised the new rice seeds bestowed by His Majesty last year, saying that the rice milled from them made an exceptionally fragrant and thick porridge.

Li Che listened, occasionally responding with a sound of interest.

He had seen far too many people speak in front of him.

Some flattered, some tested, some carefully considered every word, and some spoke passionately and quoted extensively.

Only someone like Master Gao, who never mentioned him, only talked about crops, harvests, and trivial matters in the village, was surprisingly pleasing to the ear.

He was referring to the days.

He picked up his wine cup and drank it all.

As dusk deepened, Qiu Bai came in and lit the lamp.

A dim, yellowish light shone down, illuminating the old man's deeply lined face.

Suddenly, Master Gao put down his chopsticks, got up, and went to the inner room.

When he came out again, he was holding a bundle in his hands.

"Your Majesty," he placed the bundle beside Li Che, his voice lowered, "I have something to say that I've kept in my heart for many years."

Li Che looked at him.

"That year, when His Majesty entered Chang'an, I was quite alarmed," said Master Gao, his eyes lowered.

He paused, then looked up.

"But I never expected that His Majesty would distribute the land of the noble families to the peasants and common people."

His voice trembled slightly:

"I've lived for sixty-eight years and this is the first time I've ever known that land doesn't have to be rented, and that the grain that farmers work hard to grow can all go into their own granaries."

He lowered his head and pushed the bundle further toward Li Che.

"I have nothing to thank Your Majesty for, but this is a local product. Your Majesty can take it back to the capital and enjoy it when you have some free time."

Li Che untied the bundle.

Inside was a cloth bag of freshly milled millet, the grains fine and golden.

At the very bottom, there was a small coarse cloth pouch.

Li Che opened it, and inside the pouch was a handful of dirt.

Dry, finely crushed, with roots and fibrous material attached.

“This is…” Li Che asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Soil from the estate," the wealthy man Gao said with a smile. "This old man has nothing to leave His Majesty, but I thought that His Majesty's hometown is also in Chang'an. The capital is far from Chang'an, so if he misses home, a handful of soil from his hometown can ease his homesickness..."

Li Che looked down at the handful of soil in his palm and remained silent for a long time.

He tied the purse tightly and put it into his pocket.

"Alright, I accept it."

Li Che also took something out of his sleeve and placed it on the table.

It is a gold medal, about the size of a palm, with a five-clawed dragon soaring through the clouds engraved on the front and two lines of fine characters on the back.

Master Gao was illiterate and did not recognize the characters, but he recognized the dragon pattern.

He panicked and waved his hands repeatedly, "Your Majesty, how can this be! I am but a commoner, how can I possibly accept such an honor..."

“You deserve it,” Li Che interrupted him, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"If anyone causes trouble in the manor in the future, or if the government is unjust, the master can take this to the Chang'an Prefecture, the governor, or the provincial governor."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Even if you wish to see me, that is permissible."

Master Gao held the gold medal, his hands trembling violently.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but his throat seemed blocked, and he could only utter a few indistinct syllables.

The banquet eventually came to an end. Li Che left, and Master Gao saw him off at the entrance of the manor.

Black Wind had been led to the main road and was now sniffing the wild mint clump in the corner of the wall.

Li Che mounted his horse, tightened the reins, and Black Wind snorted.

Seeing the reluctant Master Gao, Li Che knew that this was probably the last time the two would meet.

Master Gao was getting old, and as the emperor himself, he couldn't always go on tours; this parting was their final farewell.

Li Che sighed inwardly, "Time waits for no one."

He wanted to keep everyone by his side, but that was something even an emperor couldn't do; many seemingly ordinary meetings could turn into final farewells.

After bidding farewell to Master Gao, Li Che continued south.