Greed! Have I ever wronged you in the slightest?

Li Shanchang is greedy.

This is a fact known throughout the imperial court and the entire realm.

It is like a striking, indelible stain that can never be washed away.

He craved power; the lofty position within the court was like a lodestone, pulling him in with irresistible force. He was obsessed with status, relishing the reverence and awe of all around him. Nor could he do without beautiful wives and concubines; his sprawling estate was filled with fluttering beauties, a testament to utter extravagance.

In his own words, having followed His Majesty the Emperor through countless perils and hardships, hacking their way through brambles and thorns to forge the vast domain of the Great Ming dynasty, why shouldn't he indulge a little now that the time for enjoyment had finally arrived?

At first, Old Zhu turned a blind eye to all this, regarding it as mere human nature. After all, during those arduous years of establishing the empire, Li Shanchang had indeed contributed immensely and rendered outstanding service.

Yet Li Shanchang only grew greedier, indulging his avarice time and time again, continually eroding the bond he had shared with Old Zhu over the years.

Especially this time, when he had audaciously set his sights on the crystal mirror industry, completely crossing Old Zhu's bottom line. Old Zhu could endure it no longer!

"Summon Grand Preceptor Li Shanchang to an audience!" Old Zhu sat upon the dragon throne, his complexion gloomy, his voice as cold and hard as ice.

Hearing this command, Du Andao beside him shuddered violently, a chill gripping his heart. He knew the emperor's mood all too well and dared not delay for even a moment, hurrying off to make the arrangements.

Meanwhile, in the martial arts training grounds of the Eastern Palace, the sunlight poured down, making the ground gleam brightly.

Zhu Xiongying wore a look of profound skepticism, his brow deeply furrowed as his gaze locked onto Zhu Gaochi, who was currently practicing his martial arts.

"Gaochi, why on earth did you run your mouth and bring up Li Shanchang?" He took a few steps forward, standing right in front of Zhu Gaochi, his tone laced with puzzlement. "By doing this, haven't we completely offended that old fox?"

Zhu Gaochi did not stop his movements, continuing to wield his long spear on his own. The spearhead sliced through the air with a whistling sound as he casually replied, "I did it on purpose."

After a brief pause, he reined in the momentum of his spear, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and continued, "I used the Old Man's hand to give this Li Shanchang a severe beating. Otherwise, there's no telling what more outrageous actions he might have taken!"

"As for whether he's offended or not..." A cold sneer played at the corner of Zhu Gaochi's lips, a trace of disdain flashing in his eyes. "Li Shanchang doesn't have many days left to live. I hope he can behave himself; perhaps then he might still have a sliver of a chance at survival. Otherwise, a sudden catastrophe will surely befall him. In truth, I am saving him!"

Zhu Xiongying: "???"

Saving him?

Deliberately speaking ill of him?

Are you pulling my leg right here and now?

"So, by your logic, Li Shanchang should actually be thanking you?"

Zhu Gaochi shook his head in speechless frustration and tossed a brick over to him.

"What are you slacking off for? Get up and keep practicing!"

Zhu Xiongying: "..."

Half an hour later, Li Shanchang hurried into the palace and was granted an audience with the Emperor.

The atmosphere within the imperial palace at this moment was suffocatingly oppressive, every brick and stone seemingly radiating majesty and solemnity.

"This old subject pays homage to Your Majesty!" Li Shanchang first assumed the posture of kneeling, a seemingly humble smile still lingering on his face. In his heart, he figured the emperor would surely tell him to rise and then grant him a seat upon a cushioned stool.

In his understanding, as a founding official of paramount importance, such treatment was nothing less than his due.

Looking back to the era before the Tang dynasty, officials meeting the emperor would mostly just offer a bow with folded hands before casually sitting down to converse with the sovereign.

By the Song dynasty, ordinary officials had to stand while reporting on matters, yet grand dignitaries such as the purple-robed chancellors could still remain seated, given their lofty status and prestige.

In the Great Ming dynasty, however, the etiquette for greeting the emperor depended entirely on one's official rank. Those of lower rank had to perform the full kowtow upon their very first audience with the emperor; yet high-ranking generals and ministers like Xu Da and Li Shanchang, outside of formal state occasions, were normally exempt from the kneeling ritual and could even sit while speaking with the emperor.

By the Qing dynasty, however, officials were forced to perform the elaborate three-kneel and nine-knockout kowtow to the emperor, and even during court sessions they had to kneel while conversing with the monarch. This was because the emperor sat high above, and if an official were to stand, would that not imply looking down upon the sovereign?

Such a notion was deeply taboo to the Manchu rulers, thus requiring all officials to kneel; even aged ministers of substantial weight were merely granted the slight indulgence of a soft cushion.

To put it bluntly, whether officials sat, stood, or knelt was intimately tied to the perpetual struggle between imperial authority and ministerial power. As imperial authority continually strengthened and the ministerial power representing the officials steadily withered away, the posture of the officials grew ever lower, until in the end, they could do nothing but kneel.

Founding heroes like Li Shanchang naturally possessed their own pride. At this moment, though he appeared to be kneeling, in reality he merely bent his waist slightly, his knees yet to touch the ground, as he waited in eager anticipation for Old Zhu to tell him to rise and grant him a seat.

Yet time ticked by second by second, and Old Zhu remained as still as if he were fast asleep, offering no response whatsoever. In the silent great hall, only Li Shanchang's heavy breathing could be heard.

At this, Li Shanchang was dumbfounded. He could neither advance nor retreat, neither kneel nor stand. The smile on his face froze instantly, and fine beads of sweat broke out upon his forehead.

With no other choice, he could only grit his teeth and slowly lower himself to the floor. Yet never in his wildest dreams did he expect that the Emperor still showed no reaction whatsoever, as if he were a non-existent entity.

The Grand Preceptor had no choice but to force his aging bones to kneel upon the freezing stone floor for a full half-hour. His legs began to tremble, and his entire body ached with a nearly unbearable soreness, escaping his lips in a low groan.

Shrewd as Li Shanchang was, he instantly realized that he had incurred the imperial wrath, thus bringing this tribulation upon himself today. Finally, feeling that he could hold on no longer, he spoke in a tone bordering on supplication, "Your Majesty, this old subject knows his crime! I beg Your Majesty to calm your wrath!" His voice was laden with trembling and terror.

Upon hearing this, Old Zhu suddenly snapped his eyes open. That sharp gaze, like a flashing blade, pierced straight toward Li Shanchang on the floor, casting a cold glance at him. "Oh? And of what crime is the Grand Preceptor guilty, pray tell?" His voice was not loud, yet it struck Li Shanchang's ears like a thunderclap.

Sure enough, the emperor was truly enraged!

Li Shanchang's heart tightened violently, feeling as though it might stop beating altogether. He immediately confessed his guilt and begged for mercy. "May Your Majesty calm your wrath! This old subject did not know that the crystal mirror was Your Majesty's enterprise, which is why..."

Even now, he still failed to grasp the true reason for Old Zhu's anger, harboring the foolish delusion that "ignorance of the law excuses no one" worked in reverse.

Old Zhu swept his gaze over Li Shanchang—a look containing both fury and an inexpressible trace of disappointment—before letting out a soft sigh. "Master Li, do you still remember our very first meeting?" His voice was low, carrying a hint of reminiscence.

Hearing this, Li Shanchang shuddered violently, as if struck by lightning, and then replied in a quivering voice, "This old subject has never dared to forget." His voice was somewhat hoarse. "Back when you pacified Chuzhou, this old subject went forth to greet and pay respects to you. Knowing that this old subject was a man of advanced age and virtue in Chuzhou, you treated me with utmost courtesy and kept me by your side to manage literary records and archives."

Indeed, this was the scene of Zhu Yuan璋 and Li Shanchang's first encounter.

"After that, I asked you: when would the chaos under heaven finally be brought to order? Do you still remember your answer?" Old Zhu pursued, his gaze fixed intently on Li Shanchang.

Li Shanchang's body shuddered once more, and he hurriedly answered, "During the turbulence at the end of the Qin dynasty, Gaozu of Han arose from among the common folk. He was magnanimous and open-minded, adept at employing capable people, and did not slaughter indiscriminately; within five years, he accomplished the imperial enterprise. Now the moral code of the Yuan dynasty has fallen into chaos, and the nation is fractured and torn apart. If one were to emulate Gaozu of Han, the realm could be easily pacified!"

Hearing this, a flash of nostalgia crossed Old Zhu's eyes as well, as if he had been transported back to those war-torn years. "Indeed, your memory is clear. Gaozu of Han accomplished the imperial enterprise in five years; when you urged me to emulate Gaozu of Han back then, I knew you were a man of talent, and therefore I laid my heart bare to you and entrusted you with great responsibilities."

Old Zhu's voice gradually rose. "Master Li's achievements—I have never forgotten them. When I was the Prince of Wu, I appointed you as Chancellor and created you the Duke of Xuan. Upon ascending the throne as Emperor, I conferred upon you the titles of Founding-Assisting, Loyal-Supporting, Righteous-Upholding Civil Official, Specially Promoted Grand Master of Luxuriant Virtue, Left Pillar of the State, Grand Preceptor, and Left Chancellor of the Central Secretariat, and enfeoffed you as the Duke of Han, comparing you to the illustrious chancellor Xiao He, holding you in the highest esteem!"

Li Shanchang was already frightened out of his wits, his legs growing weak until he practically collapsed onto the floor. He knew not how to respond, his heart filled with terror and remorse.

The more the Emperor reminisced about the past, the more panicked he became, and an ominous premonition enveloped him.

"Yet, Master Li, how have you repaid me?" Suddenly, Old Zhu let out a sharp shout, his voice echoing through the great hall like a booming bell, instantly frightening Li Shanchang so thoroughly that he slumped limply to the ground, his face as pale as white paper.

"Yes, you have the merit of following the dragon, the merit of assisting in the founding of the state!" Old Zhu stood up, pacing back and forth across the hall, every step seemingly treading upon Li Shanchang's heart. "Yet have I ever treated you with even the slightest injustice?! You wanted titles, and I gave you titles; you wanted power, and I gave you power; you wanted official rank, and I gave you rank... Everything that I could possibly bestow upon you, I have given you!"

"And this is how you repay me?!"