Imperial Prison.
It was still as damp, foul-smelling, and blood-reeking as ever. Still, countless people wailed and cried injustice, while countless others lay there with vacant eyes, like corpses.
Hu Zongxian was the only one sitting upright.
He sat squarely on the stone bed, using the light filtering through a tiny window aboveground to read a copy of the Doctrine of the Mean.
Of course, the main reason he could do so was that he had not been tortured and his body had not suffered the slightest harm. It was not yet time to speak of resolve or spirit.
"Minister Hu, what refined taste. You've already entered the Imperial Prison, yet you can still leisurely read the books of sages?"
Setting down his book, Hu Zongxian looked at Wang Yan, who stood outside the cell with a smiling cupped-fist salute. Hu Zongxian rose and returned the gesture.
He took several steps forward and said, "Precisely because of this, I must read the sages' books. Otherwise, I have nothing else to do. Qi Dazhu brought me the book. He also told me quite a bit about you."
"Dazhu is a thoughtful one. What do you think of him, Minister Hu?"
"I have fallen to such a state. How could I still dare accept the title of minister?" Hu Zongxian shook his head and sighed. "I cannot judge what you have done, nor should I be the one to judge it. Whether something is good or bad depends on three things: how His Majesty sees it, how the powerful and wealthy see it, and how the common people see it.
"You sent His Majesty several million taels of silver—everyone under heaven knows that. How could His Majesty be dissatisfied? You also came up with cleaning fees, hired widows and orphans to sweep