Chapter 1217 – The Death of Zhao Shao (Thirteen)
Yang Jian’s background wasn’t too shabby; his ancestors had held high positions before. However, compared to the deeply rooted Eastern Gate county aristocracy with generations of merit, it was like comparing a small pebble to a mountain!
Yang Jian acted with genuine friendship but was oblivious to their facade of hypocrisy—
Having suffered a setback, Yan Lin didn’t want Yang Tao to follow his father’s foolish path and foolishly treat wolves as friends, only to find himself in a deadly trap.
“In a few days, it will be the old lord’s memorial day. We can take care of Zhao Shao then—it’ll be a fine tribute for the old lord’s spirit.”
Yang Tao said nothing. Yan Lin continued, “Lin has caught quite a number of non-toxic rat snakes—while they’re not as fearsome as the scorpion pit, they’ll do in a pinch.”
Zhao Shao trembled, looking up at Yan Lin in disbelief.
He never imagined that the seemingly dignified Yan Lin would suggest such a malicious idea, just like a demoness!
Not only did he come up with the idea, but he also caught a whole heap of snakes.
That’s some serious favoritism, son (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
Yang Tao, feeling shaken, reluctantly conceded, “Fine, let’s follow Shaoyang’s lead. We shouldn’t let Zhao Shao die too easily.”
Zhao Shao was panicking.
“Yang Tao, you dare?!”
Humans are inherently afraid of snakes. The mere thought of countless wriggling creatures crawling and biting all over him made Zhao Shao regret everything—if only Yang Tao had just delivered a quick stab instead, that would be way better than this torturous fate—Yang Tao is more malicious than a scorpion!
Zhao Shao had previously feared death, but he soon learned that a fate worse than death was the ultimate horror, something he couldn’t escape!
“Why wouldn’t I dare?” Yang Tao said matter-of-factly, “Avenging my father is righteous, regardless of the means.”
Zhao Shao felt as if he’d fallen into an ice cavern, completely stunned.
He thought Yang Tao would be mindful of his reputation and wouldn’t dare inflict torture like the scorpion pit. He never expected Yang Tao to be even more ruthless than he imagined.
“You… you’ll regret this!” Zhao Shao gritted his teeth, “You’re abusing torture on a noble; such actions will surely draw public scorn!”
Zhao Shao’s greatest reliance was his background and identity.
Unfortunately for him, his leverage wasn’t as heavy as he thought.
If lineage truly mattered, Zhao Shao wouldn’t have been humiliated by a bunch of hoodlums.
This was an era of chaos, where political machinations didn’t suit its times; only strength was the ultimate capital.
Yang Tao declared sternly, “To be a son and not avenge his father—now that’s behavior deserving public scorn!”
Didn’t Zhao Shao think about today’s fate when he poisoned Yang Jian to death?
He deserved it!
Yang Si rushed back right after the memorial day, bringing with him the documents Yang Tao prepared for Jiang Pengji.
“Ah, you can’t judge a book by its cover! That Yan Shaoyang, looking all refined and composed, turned out to have such a vicious streak.”
Yang Si grabbed Qi Guanrang’s fan to cool himself, earning a subtle roll of the eyes from Qi Guan.
Jiang Pengji asked, “Yan Shaoyang? What’s happened with him?”
Yang Si clicked his tongue, “On the day of Yang Jian’s memorial, Yan Shaoyang threw Zhao Shao into a snake pit. No idea where he dug that pit up, but he managed to catch a bunch of non-toxic rat snakes. Every snake had its fangs pulled and starved for days—ugh, Zhao Shao was stripped naked and trembled in that pit all day long, ultimately scared to death from sheer exhaustion. His death was way worse than Yang Jian’s!”
There were many details Yang Si hadn’t shared yet.
After being stripped, Zhao Shao’s incontinence worsened; those starving rat snakes had a taste for flesh but no fangs to bite with, ultimately surrounding him and diving into any opening they could find. Hmm—interpret the rest as you will.
If one life is worth another, Zhao Shao truly made a lousy bargain.
His death was a hundred times more tragic than Yang Jian’s.
Because Zhao Shao died so gruesomely, Yang Si felt a twinge of sympathy and couldn’t continue mocking him.
Jiang Pengji stated firmly, “Looks like it’s a case of killing the chicken to scare the monkey.”
Yang Tao’s nature wasn’t exactly gentle, but he didn’t quite radiate authority; as a lord, he still had a long way to go in managing subordinates.
From Jiang Pengji’s observations, it appeared that Yang Tao’s forces were not a solid unit; the original Eastern Qing foundations were at odds with those who aligned with Southern Sheng later. The struggle among factions was intense. Yan Lin was willing to wager his reputation using such cruel methods, not just to avenge Yang Jian but also to intimidate those restless fools—rather straightforward but effectively so.
With Xu Pei’s death, Huang Song retreated, and Yang Tao prepared to head back to Zhangzhou. Jiang Pengji was also starting to get truly busy.
Zhejiang was the Xu family’s stronghold. Xu Pei was gone, but other Xu family members remained. Jiang Pengji had to navigate around them to take full control. Comparatively, Hu County was much simpler. Having gone through the hands of Wu Ma Shang, Xu Fei, and Xu Pei within just a few years, its vitality was severely depleted; those local gentry and aristocrats lost their ability to create chaos and could only let Jiang Pengji mold them as she pleased.
Jiang Pengji had no shortage of soldiers, horses, and big axes—those who didn’t comply would be chopped down!
Of course, the local forces in Zhejiang couldn’t stir up trouble, either.
Why?
Remember when Cheng Yuan and Qin Gong captured Zhejiang, secretly posing as bandits to plunder everywhere?
That chaos severely weakened everyone’s strength; Jiang Pengji was too overpowering, so they could only temporarily submit, plotting their next moves.
Zhejiang was their home turf; how could they allow an outside force to dominate?
Jiang Pengji truly crushed the local overlords, installing her own people in several key positions in Zhejiang.
With Han Yu for civil and Qin Gong for military support.
Both were astonished, thinking their situation required a longer observation period before being truly valued.
Han Yu had a solid foundation in Zhejiang, and Qin Gong was a local man. If those two wanted to make trouble, it’d be all too easy.
But Jiang Pengji wasn’t worried.
The local gentry of Zhejiang couldn’t rebel against them.
“Fighting is momentarily thrilling, but the aftermath leads to a funeral parlor.”
This had become Jiang Pengji’s recurring sentiment over the past few days. If not for her ever-growing number of subordinates, the heavy workload could truly bury someone.
As the lord, Jiang Pengji found a moment’s respite but hadn’t even had time for a brief nap before Wei Ci came in flustered.
“Zixiao—”
Wei Ci said, “Wanzhou sent a letter.”
A letter?
Jiang Pengji took it, breaking the wax seal and pulling out the letter inside.
She quickly scanned the contents.
“Master Wenfu is sick—”
After Cheng Xun’s death, only some final touches of the war remained, and Cheng Yuan requested to escort the remains north.
Wei Ci sighed, “Losing a son in his prime—it’s a heart-wrenching sight… Master is aging, and this stress is too much for him.”
In her past life, Cheng Cheng had it far worse; not only did he lose his eldest son, but he also lost his second son, Cheng Yuan. Three daughters in the prime of their lives met untimely fates. His beloved wife couldn’t withstand the relentless blows to her heart and died on her way south to escape, leaving Cheng Cheng all alone.
As Jiang Zhao was founded, Cheng Cheng became the first historian, confronting both heaven and earth. Then he assisted His Majesty in establishing a relatively complete examination and recruitment system, inadvertently offending numerous powerful families. Regardless of how others criticized him or how the aristocracy tempted him, he remained indifferent.
Initially, Wei Ci admired Cheng Cheng’s integrity, but only when he saw Cheng Cheng’s heart broken over his son Wei Cong did he understand the deep sorrow within.
