Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 113

Ultimately, no one can change Chen Hou’s mind, and Zhang Rong is escorted to the palace gates at noon the next day.

At the palace gates, guards set up a stage so the people can clearly see as Zhang Rong’s head falls to the ground.

When Zhang Rong is brought out, he no longer resembles the general he once was. His spirit is gone, his eyes dull and blank. Only when he stands on the stage and sees the people below does he shout, “Your Majesty! We grew up together since childhood, as close as brothers! You can’t do this to me! You can’t do this to me!”

The people below don’t know who is on the stage—they’re simply there for the spectacle, having never seen a beheading before.

“What crime did he commit?”

“Beheading should be for a serious crime, right?”

“Did you see his face? I don’t even know who he is.”

“Hey, does anyone know who this guy is?”

Zhang Rong searches the crowd with his eyes, spotting a familiar figure at the back.

“Father…” Zhang Rong’s voice trembles.

But the figure, realizing Zhang Rong has seen him, hurriedly turns and walks down the street.

Zhang Rong’s head swivels to follow the figure, shouting, “Father! Save me! Father!”

He wants to continue, but someone suddenly blocks his mouth with a wet cloth, and another hand presses down firmly, silencing him completely.

The person who holds him down is the jailer who has been guarding him before.

The jailer shouts loudly, “This man is Zhang Rong, commander of the border defenses, who colluded with traitors in an attempt to plunge Chen into chaos! He and the traitors intercepted His Majesty at Changxiong Pass, refusing to let him through!” The jailer turns to the crowd. “Tell me—should he not die?”

The crowd murmurs:

“Of course he should. A border general committing such crimes—killing him a hundred times wouldn’t be enough!”

“But he’s from a noble family…”

“So what if he is?”

“The Zhangs control a number of cities. Sigh, His Majesty is still too young to understand the benefits and drawbacks.”

The young people all feel that the execution is well-deserved. Keeping someone like that alive would only bring shame to the entire Chen State.

The elderly, however, believe he should not be killed—not because they pity Zhang Rong, but because they fear that if he is executed, the Zhang family might oppose the monarch, which could lead to suffering for the common people.

“The Zhang family would never dare oppose you,” Ye Zhou says as he sits across from Chen Hou, peeling an orange. His fingers are slender, with distinct joints, and because he has been covered up in the winter, his skin is whiter than most people’s. He whispers, “As I recall, the Zhang family has a branch line. I’ve already sent people to speak with them on your behalf.”

Chen Hou raises an eyebrow. “A branch line?”

Ye Zhou smiles. “Do you think branches are content to remain just branches? They all share the same ancestors. Why should one line rule while the other serves? When you were strong, I had to watch your mood, but now that there’s an opportunity—why shouldn’t I take your place? Lord Chen needs a Zhang family that obeys.” Ye Zhou pops a slice of orange into his mouth. “If this one doesn’t work out, then replace it. As long as they carry the Zhang surname, isn’t that enough?”

Chen Hou asks cautiously, “But will the Zhang family branch line be willing?”

It’s not that Chen Hou is overly cautious, but for years, the main line has kept the branches under control. Many branches even rely on the main branch to send their children to Linzi. The main branch wields both a stick and a carrot, and over time, the branches have become accustomed to their subordinate position, whether willingly or not.

Ye Zhou nods. He smiles and says, “Why wouldn’t they be? No family is completely without ambitious people. As long as they’re not fools, they’ll realize this is an opportunity they can’t miss and they’ll realize this isn’t a hard thing to pull off.”

Ye Zhou observes Chen Hou’s excited expression. “With the ruler’s support, Zhang Rong already dead, and a prime minister paving the way—even the most timid person would be tempted to gamble. If they win, they’ll become the main branch of the Zhang family and control many cities. If they lose, they’ll only lose one of their own. Either way, things can only get better from here, not worse.”

He pushes the tea beside him toward Lord Chen and smiles. “Have a sip of tea, Lord Chen.”

Chen Hou absentmindedly picks up the teacup.

In Linzi, the atmosphere is tense, with many discussing the recent events. The death of a child from a noble family has stirred up the entire city.

“I wonder, after a person’s head is chopped off, does the head still feel anything?”

“It’s terrifying! I had nightmares for two days!”

The noble families, once seen as untouchable, are now recognized for what they truly are: mere mortals, vulnerable to death if their heads are severed.

“Strange… The Zhang family didn’t make an appearance when their child was executed.”

“They must be too embarrassed to show their faces.”

“Your Majesty, this isn’t right. The Zhang family is still a noble family. Even if Zhang Rong deserves to die, this humiliation… it’s not just him who’s being humiliated, but the entire Zhang family. Alas!”

Discussions erupt in the streets. Scholars generally support Chen Hou’s actions, understanding that if noble families are not kept in check, the state will face great instability. More importantly, if Chen Hou continues relying on the nobility, the common scholars will never have the chance to rise.

The common people, however, feel that Chen Hou has been too harsh. Even if the noble families have done wrong, their children deserve some dignity and respect. It isn’t right for the monarch to act in such a manner.

Two opposing camps argue fiercely, producing countless essays. Scholars write critiques and counter-critiques, plastering the walls with their works. Chen State hasn’t seen such intellectual activity in years.

Ye Zhou doesn’t expect this incident to unite Linzi’s scholars more than ever. The scholars form a tight-knit group, and while individual scholars without family backgrounds were once undervalued, now, united, they hold significant power. Even in the court, no official dares openly criticize Chen Hou.

In the meantime, Chen State’s secrets aren’t as hidden as they once were. Ye Zhou, only in office for two weeks, has already been approached by scholars eager to recommend themselves. Many seek to become his retainers or apprentices, hoping he will help them secure government positions.

Initially, Ye Zhou has no interest in accepting them. But upon reflection, he realizes that what Chen State needs now are these scholars without familial ties.

So, he decides to accept them and even buys a house to house them.

Occasionally, Ye Zhou visits to see what they’re up to. Each time he goes, he finds them engaged in heated debates or absorbed in books. They all have their own opinions and love discussing the world’s problems, as though they could solve all of Chen State’s issues if only given the chance.

But Ye Zhou doesn’t look down on them, even though many of them are boastful.

After all, young scholars are often proud—and some even downright arrogant. Many are quick to assert their superiority. But after observing them for some time, Ye Zhou manages to identify two genuinely talented individuals.

One is surnamed Jiang, the other Zhao. Neither is from Chen State—one comes from Zheng, the other from Zhao.

Both of them are audacious, coming to Chen not because it is an ideal state, but because they believe their talents can help a weak country grow stronger, which would better showcase their abilities.

Jiang thinks the royal family’s land should be reclaimed and redistributed—not giving land to commoners—but rather assigning commoners to the land.

Zhao believes the root cause of Chen’s weakness is its insufficient army. He proposes that when there is no war, the strong should stay home and farm; when war breaks out, they can immediately take up arms.

At present, land is privately owned. In name, it all belongs to Lord Chen—but just like all feudal states supposedly belong to the Zhou King, only a fool believes that.

The noble clans each have their own fiefs, and all the output from those lands goes to them. It’s essentially a country within a country.

Jiang believes this private ownership system is the root of all resistance from the noble clans. It makes them unwilling to serve the state—because they’ve already become local emperors. What incentive is left to be loyal?

If loyalty doesn’t bring reward, how many will remain loyal?

Zhao believes the problem lies in weak troops and horses. Changing that isn’t going to happen overnight.

Since quality can’t be guaranteed, they need quantity. If other nations field 10,000 troops, Chen will field 20,000. If they don’t have enough people, they can buy slaves.

They might not win battles, but they’ll project the right image. Let the world know that Chen soldiers aren’t afraid of death. If anyone dares reach out, Chen will wound itself a thousand times just to kill eight hundred of the enemy.

In blunt terms: suicide attacks.

Extreme, yes—but not entirely unreasonable, Ye Zhou thinks.

After a period of observation, Ye Zhou recommends them to Chen Hou.

Lord Chen doesn’t press for details—perhaps because he trusts Ye Zhou so completely. He quickly promotes them to high-ranking officials who can attend the court and discuss politics.

Both men address Ye Zhou as “teacher,” never “Prime Minister.”

Ye Zhou also discovers that to outsiders, these two are considered part of his political faction.

With two role models in place, the scholars living in Ye Zhou’s compound become even more driven.

Ye Zhou visits every three days, and each time he finds the scholars engaged in lively discussion, their voices so loud it seems they might shatter the sky.

Scholars from all across Chen State now flock to Linzi. In the past, many have been unable to come because they’re poor and have no money for a tutor or recommendations.

Now, with Ye Zhou offering a chance to advance without charging a fee, how can they resist?

“Mother, I’m leaving now.” the young scholar says, wearing straw sandals and carrying a bag. “If I make it in Linzi, I’ll live a life of comfort. But if I’m not valued by the prime minister, I’ll return, serve you until the end of my days, marry a wife, and have children.”

The old woman looks at her son, tears welling up in her eyes. “Son, be careful out there. I know you’re ambitious. The ruler will surely recognize your talent. I’ll be waiting here—for the day you send someone to fetch me.”

The scholar, taking a deep breath, kneels and bows three times to his mother, until his forehead bleeds. He looks up and says, “Mother, I will not let you down. One day, I’ll make the whole world know my name!”

The old woman’s voice trembles. “Go, my son.”

The scholar stands. This time, he doesn’t look back.

Step by step, he walks forward.

He has no money. No horse. No ox.

Only his own two feet and the straw sandals beneath them.

In Linzi, someone is waiting for him.

Someone must be waiting for him.