Chapter 138: Che Guevara Zhu Yuanzhang!

"Ancestors, please try to aim for the legs!"

Chongzhen's pleading voice echoed in the ears of every emperor.

His actions naturally carried a deeper scheme. While Old Zhu and Zhu Fourth were running rampant across the countryside, a hundred-odd pharmacies originating from the Chongzhen era suddenly popped up in various cities, setting up stalls with banners declaring they only treated firearm wounds.

Starting at one hundred taels, with no upper limit!

An exorbitant price!

Dozens of established medical merchants, after careful consideration, all dismissed it with disdain. Treating firearm wounds in the Jiangnan region? Whoever thought of this must have lost their minds.

It posed no threat to their business whatsoever.

Many merchants offered a concise and pithy review: they would all collectively go out of business in two and a half months.

Bang!

One gunshot after another shattered the merchants' illusions. A large number of rural gentry arrived in the city in sedan chairs, wailing and begging for treatment for gunshot wounds.

Although they saw the stalls specializing in firearm injuries, no one approached them because it was simply too expensive—it was like rubbing salt into the wounds of these landlords and wealthy gentry, something they could not accept.

However, firearm wounds from rifled muskets were unique, and traditional medicine shops could only temporarily keep patients alive—at least until several landlords and wealthy gentry suffered worsening wounds and died in agony.

The rest could no longer sit still. Wealth was a worldly possession, after all, and far less valuable than a little life!

Although the gold and silver of their entire households had been plundered and their grain reserves were dwindling, they still had land deeds—deed after deed, offered solely in exchange for a few more doses of medicine.

Relieve the leg pain, clear out the pus, but never quite cure the wound—if it were fully healed, who would they sell the medicine to?

They would bleed these people dry until not a single coin remained.

"What is going on?!"

"Where did these bandits get firearms?"

"No, wait, they are just a band of bandits, how could they possibly have firearms?!"

The upper-class families of the gentry stratum were shocked and furious. A massive number of rural gentry being plundered and wounded by firearms generated a deep sense of unease.

At this time, although high-ranking gentry were already engaging in international trade like voyages to the Western Oceans, they had zero intention of emigrating abroad.

Because in the eyes of the Europeans of this era, the Great Ming was the Celestial Empire, a powerful presence to whom all nations paid allegiance. To flatter Europe's own image, they even classified the people of Ming as white.

The Queen of England even referred to the Emperor of Ming in letters as "the greatest and most invincible monarch." In their eyes, the Ming Dynasty was a foreign land where the moon shone brighter.

How could the gentry of Jiangnan ever harbor the thought of leaving their homeland for those barbarian territories?

The gentry's anxieties were immediately funneled to the Six Ministries in Nanjing. The Nanjing Minister of War mobilized troops, and the entire city of Nanjing was placed under strict martial law.

For a time, the gentry community was jittery at the mere sound of wind and grass!

Bang!

The vermilion gates of a certain mansion in the city were kicked open!

Two rows of special forces soldiers in camouflage uniforms, holding equalizers, trotted into the courtyard, their movements textbook-standard:

"Nobody move! Move and you get hit!"

Bang!

A few lucky audience members were randomly shot dead, plunging the estate into instant peace. Not a single sound of resistance was heard; everyone was extremely cooperative.

"Spare my life, Your Majesty! This humble old man's family has fallen on hard times, and there is no surplus wealth in the estate!"

Merchant Zhang's plump face was full of terror as he knelt on the ground, trembling incessantly.

Zhu Yuanzhang strode forward with his hands behind his back, shouting coldly, "Zhang Wenji, you unrighteous, wealthy old beast! Didn't this estate of yours drive a respectable woman to her death just yesterday?"

"And you even had the gall to tell people that the Three Judicial Offices, the Six Ministries, and the Twenty-Four Yamen are all your men! What grand official prestige, what truly audacious guts!"

Merchant Zhang was about to explain.

Bang!

His head was blown apart by a gunshot!

Chongzhen scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly, "It misfired, Grand Ancestor."

Zhu Yuanzhang waved a hand. "No matter. It's just a pity to let him die so painlessly!"

"Yes, I'll be more careful next time!"

Chongzhen laughed bitterly to himself. This wasn't even the Zhang residence, but since the Grand Ancestor had already laid out the charges, he couldn't very well let this fat man talk back to the Grand Ancestor.

Besides, he couldn't explain either. Was he supposed to say, "Grand Ancestor, you're crying at the wrong grave"?

So poor Merchant Zhang had to take the fall!

"Dig up the cellar! These bastards love hoarding silver in cellars!" Zhu Yuanzhang issued an order.

Before long.

Crates of gold and silver were carried out—over forty crates in total, each weighing a hundred catties or so, amounting to at least fifty thousand taels to start with.

With a wave of Chongzhen's hand, the stacked treasure chests all vanished into thin air right there in the courtyard, eliciting a chorus of gasps from everyone in the Zhang residence!

Hanging Merchant Zhang's head under a lantern, Chongzhen left behind a ten-man squad to conduct ideological education for the members of the Zhang household, warning them that unrighteous wealth would bring them back again.

Then they moved on to the next target.

After all, the Zhang family's numerous land deeds and businesses were still intact; looting their current silver only cost them a large chunk of their savings, which could eventually be replenished through time and accumulation.

Therefore, it was still this same group that held the wealth, and all Chongzhen could do was subject them to ideological education. Of course, the results were quite good.

At the very least, many of the visited gentry and landlords drastically reduced land rent for their tenant farmers from then on, stopped oppressing the common people harshly, and quite a few benevolent gentry took the initiative to fund schools.

This was not because they had found their conscience, nor because they had turned into good people.

It was because the Grand Ancestor had once been here.

In Nanjing, the dozen or so ministers and vice ministers of the Six Ministries were jumping up in anxiety.

"Brutal bandits! Ruthless bandits!"

"Why can't the garrison be mobilized? Are they rebelling? Is it a mutiny?!"

"The imperial edict from His Majesty arrived the day before yesterday, ordering a rotation of the garrison in Nanjing. But this is already the third day of the rotation, and they simply refuse to budge!"

"Could it be..."

"Don't let your imagination run wild, it's not like that. This bunch of old soldiers simply refuses to go suppress the bandit plague. Those ruthless bandits are holding firearms—firearms with terrifyingly immense firepower at that! If you asked me to go, I wouldn't want to either!"

The officials of Nanjing were running in circles, racking their brains to no avail as they failed to find a way to break the deadlock.

These ruthless bandits were absurdly powerful. The firearms in their hands possessed a rapid rate of fire, high precision, devastating power, and incredible range!

They were comparable to the premier divine weapons of the current age. Unless troops were dispatched from the capital to suppress them, there was simply no way to deal with these people, driving the Nanjing officials so crazy that their hair fell out in clumps.

How could they not be anxious?!

What those bandits were looting was their own private money!

Which of the officials retiring to Nanjing in their old age wasn't worth a fortune? With all their assets left behind in the city, they had now become lambs waiting for the slaughter!

Zhang Shuo gritted his teeth, stomped his foot, and low-voicedly growled, "We cannot just sit here and wait for death!"

"What insights does Lord Zhang have?" Everyone swarmed toward him like drowning men grasping at a straw.

Zhang Shuo said in a deep voice, "This old man needs to go lie low for a while. Every family's estate in the city has a human head hanging under the lantern, and my heart can't take looking at it anymore. I won't accompany you gentlemen on duty any longer."

A flurry of roaring voices erupted across the court:

"Zhang Shuo! Where is your conscience?! Where is your sense of responsibility?! Where are you going? Can you take me with you?!"

"You white-haired old scoundrel, I am ashamed to be associated with the likes of you!"

"What's this, Lord Liu, are you planning to go hide away somewhere yourself?"

"Ahem, this old man wants to go hide at the Chunxiang Pavilion. Of course, don't misunderstand, gentlemen—even if I had the heart for it, my back wouldn't allow it!"

"Hmm... what's the address?"