Chapter One: The Ninety-Ninth Year of Chongzhen
In the ninety-ninth year of the Chongzhen era, the elderly and impoverished scholar Zhou Liang sat dazedly by his bedside. His eyes, heavy with complexity, swept across the room he had lived in for over fifty years.
The house was built of earth and timber, dark and damp, with moss growing in the corners. For as long as he could remember, the room had always been this way.
If one called it a dilapidated dwelling, it still offered shelter from wind and rain, but to say it was comfortable or fine was far from the truth.
The gloomy, moist atmosphere and the worn furnishings made it clear that Zhou Liang, the owner, was likely poor. The lingering strong smell of alcohol and shattered wine vessels scattered on the floor betrayed a man who had sunk into despair, drowning his sorrows in drink...
“There must be few time travelers who reach their fifties without achieving anything, right?” he muttered.
“I’ve disgraced everyone. After a lifetime of toil since crossing over, I can’t even pass the imperial examination for the licentiate. Not only is there no hope of rising in wealth and status, but I’ve also squandered my once modestly prosperous family fortune, leaving behind nothing but this old mansion…”
“I’m not even as good as Fan Jin… No, Fan Jin later became a third-rank official of the Tongzheng Ministry. Compared to him, I’m nothing but a poor, sour old scholar...” Zhou Liang scoffed bitterly, his hollow eyes reflecting the ridiculousness of his life.
“But I do not regret it!”
Suddenly, his gaze shifted sharply, the emptiness replaced by fury as he recalled a past filled with anger.
“Damn you, Chongzhen! You truly deserve to die!”
“No! You don’t deserve the name Chongzhen. The one I knew, though abstract, was at least human! But look at you—are you even human?”
“You’re not Chongzhen; you’re fit only to be called the Tyrannical God Emperor!”
Zhou Liang’s eyes seemed to blaze with fire as he cursed the divine emperor far away in Shuntian Prefecture with clenched teeth.
“In the seventeenth year of Chongzhen, you not only hanged the rebel leader Li Zicheng, but slaughtered all the soldiers and civilians in Shuntian Prefecture, just because they sided with the rebels, without considering why they surrendered to Li Zicheng!”
“You ascended to godhood and killed over a million people in one fell swoop; Shuntian Prefecture was reduced to barren land by your hand!”
“In the eighteenth year, you massacred Luoyang, just because its people once followed Li Zicheng in slaughtering the royal Prince Fu!”
“In the nineteenth year, you razed Fengyang for failing to prevent Zhang Xianzhong from desecrating your ancestral tombs!”
“In the twentieth year, you destroyed the Eight Banners and slaughtered in Shenyang, Liaodong, simply because Liaodong belonged to the Qing dynasty, and locals who defected to Qing were deemed traitors punishable by death!”
“In the twenty-first year, you slaughtered Yingtian Prefecture for attempting to enthrone Zhu Yousong!”
“In the twenty-second year…”
Amid Zhou Liang’s curses, one atrocity after another was recounted:
“You even massacred the common folk in Shaanxi and Sichuan simply because they belonged to Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong… and in Yangzhou and Suzhou, because wealthy merchants there long resisted taxes, you bloodily cleansed these vital southern economic hubs. Over a million commoners never even saw Qing troops before being slaughtered by you!”
“To you, every rebel against the Ming dynasty must be wiped out in blood.”
“When an emperor’s wrath kills millions and spills blood across a thousand miles… what King Zhao of Qin couldn’t do, you have accomplished—truly a sovereign for the ages!”
“I’ve realized it—you’re no divine emperor returned from the heavens, but a King Yama crawling out of the underworld! You seek revenge against all people…”
Zhou Liang sneered bitterly:
“You’re even more abstract than Zhang Xianzhong! There’s over a hundred Dorgon’s worth of distance between you and Li Zicheng!”
“If only you had hung yourself on that old crooked tree back then, knowing what you’d become!”
“Now the world is in misery, yet you still compare yourself to the eternal sun… You deserve to be cursed face-to-face with the words: ‘When the day comes that I perish, you too shall perish!’”
“All the people of the world wish to eat your flesh alive! How dare you continue to act as the divine emperor in Shuntian Prefecture!”
He cursed for a long time, intoxicated and wild, until—
Bang!
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed as a squad of armored soldiers burst in, kicking the door open fiercely.
“Traitor Zhou Liang! You’re under arrest!”
Unfazed, Zhou Liang fixed his gaze on them. From among the armored men emerged a figure in splendid brocade robes, a high-ranking official who looked down on the shabby scholar with a cold sneer:
“Traitor Zhou Liang, hear me!”
Zhou Liang replied casually:
“I’m listening.”
The brocade-clad man smiled:
“Good. I’ll ask you—did you support the rebel group known as the ‘Pig Slaughter Club’? Don’t try to deny it. Since we, the brocade guards, have come, we have proof. Confess now and perhaps there’s a chance for leniency…”
“Well! You even brought the brocade guards! What an honor for this poor scholar!”
Zhou Liang laughed without fear:
“Fine, I admit it. I funded the Pig Slaughter Club.”
“Not only that, I’m its main founder. I started it thirty-eight years ago, even naming it ‘Pig Slaughter Club.’”
“For all these thirty-eight years, I’ve given them money, taught them to read and write, instructed them in pig slaughtering and dragon hunting, and taught them new ideas of resistance against tyranny…”
“I’ve long wanted to chop off the pig’s head in Shuntian Prefecture. For that, I’ve been their teacher for more than thirty-eight years!”
The brocade man’s smile faded, replaced by a frown:
“You are a rogue with no respect for law or order…”
Zhou Liang grinned:
“You just said ‘rogue’ and ‘lawless,’ right?”
The brocade guard’s face changed instantly, a trace of panic flickering—the divine emperor had a penchant for literary purges to maintain supreme authority, punishing harshly! And the words “rogue” and “lawless” could be extended to the dynasty’s founder, a dangerous implication indeed.
Quickly changing the subject, he shouted:
“Smooth talker!”
“Let’s see how brave you are once you’re thrown into the dungeon!”
“Seize him!”
At his command, the armored soldiers moved forward to capture Zhou Liang aggressively.
Yet, still smiling and redolent with alcohol, Zhou Liang laughed even louder. As they restrained him, he murmured:
“I long ago knew the world was harsh… no, that’s not it…”
Suddenly serious, the drunken old man raised his voice:
“Your divine emperor boasts of being the eternal sun? Then I’ll send him a cutting curse!”
“‘When the day comes that I perish, you too shall perish!’”
“You are the reincarnation of King Xia Jie!”
After reciting the poem, the weary old man’s face twisted in pain, his head drooped, and his body slowly went limp...
“He’s dead!” a soldier exclaimed after checking his pulse.
The brocade guard’s face darkened as he hurried forward to examine him, confirming the prisoner was truly dead—and poisoned!
“Poisoned?”
His gaze quickly landed on the wine cup and jug on the floor, then sniffed the corpse’s breath, realization dawning: it was poisoned wine!
“Damn it!”
Clenching his teeth, the brocade guard summoned a holy light like the sun’s radiance into his palm, placing it on the corpse’s forehead in a desperate attempt to revive him.
But he had overestimated his divine power. After a long struggle, the body showed no sign of life. Exhausted and drenched in sweat, he reluctantly gave up.
Looking at the corpse, the brocade guard cursed silently:
“Don’t die on my watch!”
Such a high-profile traitor was meant to be handed over for execution. If he died under the guard’s custody, the divine emperor’s wrath could fall upon him!
Yet, despite his fury, he couldn’t help recalling Zhou Liang’s dying words:
“When the day comes that I perish, you too shall perish!”
This ancient curse from the Xia dynasty’s people against their tyrant resonated once more across this land, transforming Zhou Liang into a heroic figure of resistance.
The timing of his death was just right...
“Dying at the right time…” the brocade guard murmured.
“Better to die than to linger like some old monster who should have died long ago, ruining all they built in their youth…”
In life, apart from being born well, the most important thing is to die well.
The worst fate is for those who should have died to live on as wicked spirits, destroying the reputations they struggled so hard to build...
...
In the ninety-ninth year of Chongzhen, the notorious anti-Ming secret society active for thirty-eight years in the Bashu region—the Pig Slaughter Club—was finally broken by the Ming court. Many senior members were captured or killed, including the founding elder and spiritual leader:
“Sir,” Zhou Liang.
But the fleeing members would not despair. The painful lesson of their leader’s death only steeled their resolve.
For wherever oppression exists, there will be resistance!
Even if the enemy is the invincible Ming Divine Emperor, eternal and blazing like the sun, those ignited by the spark of thought would fight desperately to extinguish it, even if it means burning in the sunlight.
“When the day comes that I perish, you too shall perish!”
This declaration of rebellion against tyranny, after nearly four thousand years, sounded once again on this ancient land. This time, their foe was no mere mortal tyrant claiming to be the sun but a fierce god who stood above all mortals.
It was a struggle between unequal powers, a battle for survival where the loser faced only death.
Either the Divine Emperor dies!
Or all living beings die!
Or both die together!
...