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"Cheng Hechuan, you are the censor, and you don't speak up when you should. What's the use of raising you? Tell me, should the nine clansmen of Hu Weiyong be killed?"

Cheng Hechuan raised his head sharply.

What the hell?

Why ask him?

Now he is mute and eats Coptis chinensis, unable to express his sufferings.

A second ago, he was staying up late in the library writing his graduate thesis. After being knocked unconscious by the "History of the Ming Dynasty", how could he wake up as the unlucky censor of the Hongwu Dynasty with the same name?

What's even worse is how did he survive the Hu Weiyong case?

Countless thoughts flashed through Cheng Hechuan's mind in an instant.

That he deserves to be killed?Then he is agreeing with the emperor and has no spine. From now on, anyone in the court can step on him.

What's more, he wrote very clearly in his paper that although the Hu Weiyong case was not completely unjust, the implicated nine tribes were definitely indiscriminate killings.

Say you shouldn’t kill?Then he would die on the spot.

When had Zhu Yuanzhang ever been merciless in killing people?

What's more, this "Cheng Hechuan" is just a seventh-grade official?Wasn't it just a blink of an eye to kill him?

He raised his head and glanced at Hu Weiyong.

Hu Weiyong also happened to tilt his head slightly, staring at him sinisterly with a pair of triangular eyes, with naked threats in his eyes.

The meaning of that look is very clear: Boy, if you dare to add insult to injury, I will never let you go.

But what if Cheng Hechuan spoke for him?Then he won't survive.

To speak for Hu Weiyong is to go against Zhu Yuanzhang.

Either way it's death.

Cheng Hechuan suddenly felt a little funny.

He wrote 38,000 words in his thesis analyzing the political game played by all parties in the Hu Weiyong case. He kept analyzing and analyzing, but he never thought that one day he would personally play as a pawn.

And he’s still the kind of cannon fodder chess piece that can’t survive even one chapter.

"Cheng Hechuan!" Zhu Yuanzhang's voice rose again, "What are you dawdling about?"

Cheng Hechuan felt that several colleagues around him were moving aside, for fear of getting into his bad luck.

The censor kneeling in front of him shrugged his shoulders slightly, as if he was snickering, probably waiting to see how this new stupid young man would die.

Cheng Hechuan took a deep breath.

He is a man who has read history.

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