Zhu Qiyu's eyes widened, his face full of disbelief. "How... how could it come to this?"
Pan Yun looked straight into his eyes and let out a faint sigh.
How could it not?
The Martyrdom Sacrifice system—Confucius had advocated abolishing it as early as the fourth century BCE. During the Warring States period, Duke Xian of Qin took the lead in abolishing it as state policy.
Over the following thousand years, although private sacrificial burials among the people had repeatedly defied prohibition, the official stance of every dynasty had always been one of opposition.
Who could have expected Zhu Yuanzhang, two thousand years later, to make such a grand move—vigorously reviving Martyrdom Sacrifice within the imperial family, pulling back up the practice of burying the living that the sages of old had painstakingly suppressed.
As those above acted, those below followed. The common people too began making wives, concubines, and servants die in sacrifice, while the Imperial Court lavishly bestowed chastity arches.
But when such a thing fell upon someone personally, it hurt.
Pan Yun said evenly, "If the ones sacrificed were Consort Wu Xian and the future Princess, would Your Highness feel resentment?"
Zhu Qiyu's expression shifted slightly. The future Princess would naturally be his daughter, while Consort Wu Xian was his own mother.
At the mere thought, Zhu Qiyu's heart twisted as though stabbed, and indignation surged within him.
Pan Yun said, "It is only a hypothetical, yet Your Highness's anger is already written across his face. What of the officials? Their sisters and daughters have lived beneath this threat ever since the Hongwu reign. Could they truly feel no resentment?"
"There are, after all, not many people in this world with hearts of iron and stone who would trade their relatives' lives for wealth and glory," Pan