Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

Chapter 218: Shocking! The Esteemed Crown Prince Fakes an Accident on the Street, and Its Because (1 / 2)

There was some mix up with chapter numbering, which I have fixed. You should see correct sequence now. Please comment if you any issue with sequence or any other type.

Xu Yanmiao found Prince Jin completely unreasonable.

[Wasn’t it a case of me accidentally saving him? How could he repay kindness with animosity and dump such a hot potato on me?]

The secret document was handed to him last night, and the item was submitted during the morning court assembly.

Now still in court, Xu Yanmiao grumbled inwardly but dared not let his expression reveal too much.

Then, he looked up: “???”

[Huh? Did they just discuss some major political matter? Let me think… Nope, nothing important, right?]

[I’m frowning because of that secret document. But why are so many officials also frowning? If one or two were like this, I’d think their families were in trouble, but it can’t be that everyone has family issues, right?]

At that moment, a censor stepped forward. “Your Majesty! This official has a report to submit!”

The court officials: Oh, ho!

In the past, during moments like this, their faces would tense up, fearing the fire might spread to them or wondering whether this was the beginning of a conflict between factions. Should they charge ahead or tread carefully to avoid being caught in the crossfire?

But now…

Let’s see who the unlucky soul is today, being sacrificed to divert Little Bai Ze’s attention!

The censor declared, “I wish to impeach the Marquis of Yongchang.”

The officials: Oh, ho!

So the unlucky one is him!

The Marquis of Yongchang’s mustache trembled as he stared blankly in confusion.

Impossible! Lately, he’d been walking on eggshells, returning straight to his mansion after court, and keeping his cool no matter what he encountered. How did he end up being impeached?

The censor continued, “During the war against the Wokou, the Marquis of Yongchang used tens of thousands of enemy corpses to build a massive jingguan. Is this true or not?”

A jingguan refers to a mound created by piling up the bodies of enemy soldiers, covering them with a layer of earth.

It was considered an act of barbaric brutality and was widely condemned.

If this had been in the past, the Marquis of Yongchang would have brushed off such an impeachment with disdain. After all, he had military merits. Would the emperor really hold it against him just because the enemies’ corpses couldn’t rest in peace?

But now…

The Marquis of Yongchang felt guilty and uneasy. “It is true, but I… I only did it to intimidate the enemy…”

The censor mercilessly interrupted him, though his tone remained gentle. “Massacring a city can also intimidate the enemy. Throwing the enemy corpses into their own city could also intimidate them. Why did the Marquis specifically choose to build a jingguan?”

—Of course, the censor was not advocating for massacres. If the Marquis had slaughtered a city, he would have impeached him all the same.

The Marquis of Yongchang looked like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck, his gaze darting around, unable to respond.

The censor’s sharp gaze swept across his face. “Because a jingguan represents a certain ‘refinement within barbarity,’ a restrained brutality. Compared to a city massacre, it serves as a greater show of military prowess, leaving the local population unable to settle in peace. A city massacre intimidates in the short term, but a pile of rotting corpses forming a tower can suppress the spirits of the local people for years.”

In simpler terms: “Don’t talk about intimidation. We all know the truth—it’s just a monument to your vanity and desires.”

The Marquis of Yongchang believed that, when dealing with enemies, brutality was no big deal. Besides, he hadn’t killed civilians—just prisoners of war. Killing prisoners was unethical, sure, but they weren’t people of Da Xia, so who cared?

He could have argued back, perhaps insisting that he built the jingguan solely to maintain long-term intimidation over the Wokou, preventing future rebellions. But given the current sensitive political climate, the Marquis opened his mouth to rebut but swallowed his words. Instead, he muttered gloomily, “The matter of the jingguan was indeed my fault. Da Xia is a nation of propriety, and we should have treated prisoners with benevolence…”

The censor nodded in agreement. “Exactly! A whole fifty thousand prisoners—how could you have killed them all? They were all able-bodied men who could have been sent to dig for gold and silver in the mines, working for decades.”

He shook his head. “The jingguan was far too barbaric.”

The others: “…”

If those prisoners had known that their alternative to death was decades of mining, they might have felt death was the better option.

—Of course, there might have been some who thought that even a miserable life was better than no life at all.

The Marquis of Yongchang let out a long sigh, deeply moved. “You’re absolutely right. I was indeed too barbaric.”

When it came to tormenting someone with words, these scholars were in a league of their own.

Xu Yanmiao watched intently, his expression gradually one of dawning realization.

[If that’s the case, then wouldn’t the best punishment for the Marquis of Yongchang be making him tear down the jingguan, burn the corpses, and clean up that land completely?]

[The ground is soaked with blood, and that patch of soil is all black. Shouldn’t it be dug out? The stench of blood is so strong…]

Xu Lang, why are you starting to think like a censor?

—Don’t learn everything, okay?!

The Marquis of Yongchang’s hand trembled, looking as pitiful as could be. His internal screams were practically written all over his face.

The old emperor’s eyes lit up.

What a brilliant idea! He couldn’t bear to harshly punish his beloved general for the jingguan, but something like this—akin to a city massacre—required a public stance.

And no need to dig up the soil; that land could be used for farming. With blood and flesh as fertilizer, it’d be perfect for crops.

While entertaining these grim thoughts, the old emperor casually said, “Marquis of Yongchang, since you built the jingguan, you’ll be responsible for dismantling it. Any objections?”

The Marquis of Yongchang’s sturdy frame slouched in resignation. “Your Majesty, I have no objections. I still have the strength to clean up the area around the jingguan completely.”

At that moment, Xu Yanmiao’s quiet thoughts came through:

[Moral or not, I don’t care about ethics when it comes to the Wokou. But if the corpses aren’t properly dealt with, they’ll spread disease. That land might later be used for exiled Da Xia citizens.]

[Also, who knows if the plague might travel across the sea to the mainland?]

[I’ll have to see if I can bring this up somehow.]

The Marquis of Yongchang suddenly fell silent.

The other officials also grew quiet.

None of them had thought of this angle before.

Seven months had passed, so… there shouldn’t be… much of a problem… right?

The old emperor pondered for a moment, then decided to send Princess Consort Jin to inspect the situation—after all, wasn’t she highly skilled in medicine? Besides, they couldn’t let her idly sit around; she needed to contribute somehow.

Xu Yanmiao also remembered it had been seven months.

[Wait! Hold on! It’s been seven months, so why is someone only impeaching the Marquis of Yongchang now? Could it be because the information took a long time to travel across the sea?]