The discussion did not begin with chaos, but it did not take long before the mood shifted into something far heavier, because once certain truths were spoken out loud, they refused to go back into silence.
Ji Menghan stood at the front, his posture relaxed yet deliberate, as if he had already calculated where this conversation would lead, and all that remained was to let everyone arrive there together.
"Oh, this worker brother," he said, gesturing lightly, his tone calm but clearly guiding the flow, "you seem to understand the Shu Prince quite well, so why don't you introduce him to everyone here."
The worker stepped forward without hesitation, his voice rising immediately, sharp and filled with long-suppressed anger that now had a stage.
"The Shu Prince is a bastard," he declared without restraint, his words landing heavily across the crowd, "greedy to the bone, squeezing tenants dry, draining them to the marrow, there is not a single filthy thing he has not done."
A wave of reaction spread instantly, not explosive, but dense, as murmurs and sharp intakes of breath overlapped into a growing sense of shared outrage.
At that moment, Sichuan Governor Wang Weizhang stepped forward, his expression weary, as if he had carried this frustration for far too long and no longer saw any reason to hide it.
"It is true," he said, his tone firm, carrying authority not from position but from experience, "and the money he takes never comes back out."
He paused briefly, allowing the weight of his next words to settle before he continued.
"When the rebel forces entered Sichuan and pressed all the way to the outskirts of Chengdu, I once urged him to release funds to recruit fighters and resist the enemy."
The crowd grew quiet, because everyone could already sense what was coming.
"He refused," Wang Weizhang said, his voice tightening, "he claimed his treasury had limits, and suggested that we dismantle his Chengyun Hall and sell it to cover military expenses."
A ripple of disbelief spread, quickly turning into bitter laughter that carried more anger than amusement.
"I was furious at the time," Wang Weizhang continued, his expression darkening, "so I told him directly that no one in the world could afford such a hall, except Li Zicheng himself when he came to take the city."
He exhaled slowly, as if reliving the absurdity.
"Even after hearing that, he still did not understand, choosing money over survival, narrow-minded to the point of stupidity."
The atmosphere thickened.
Mo Li could not hold himself back any longer, his voice filled with disbelief.
"How can someone like that even exist in this world," he said, his frustration barely contained as it pushed into anger.
A graduate researcher nearby spoke up, his tone sharper, more analytical but no less critical.
"If someone like him were asked to pay taxes in the future, he would never agree, because people like that do not see themselves as part of the system at all."
"That is obvious," another voice cut in immediately.
"When have these princes ever paid taxes," someone else added, the sarcasm clear.
"They think they are above it."
Then another worker spoke, his tone carrying a different kind of certainty.
"Look at Zhu Cunji, the Qin Prince's heir in the Liberated Zone, he already pays taxes voluntarily, and even the famously stingy Hanzhong Rui Prince has started paying properly."
"They learned from the Tianzun Texts," he continued, his voice steady, "they understand that if the state's finances collapse, the entire world follows, and once chaos begins, their wealth will not survive either."
A brief silence followed.
Then someone spoke again, more sharply than before.
"And this Shu Prince," he said, each word deliberate, "not only refuses to learn from his own relatives, but goes against the trend and comes to extort factories that are actually producing value."
That was the moment everything aligned.
Not anger alone.
But agreement.
"This kind of person must be dealt with."
"Absolutely."
"No more tolerance."
The voices overlapped, then merged, until hesitation disappeared completely.
Ji Menghan watched the shift with quiet satisfaction, because this was the exact outcome he had been guiding them toward from the beginning.
"Good," he said finally, his tone steady but carrying undeniable authority, "since everyone has reached the same conclusion, then let us show the Shu Prince what it truly means when the working class has power."
No one cheered.
No one needed to.
The decision had already been made.
Three days later, the Shu Prince Zhu Zhishu was enjoying himself thoroughly in his summer estate, surrounded by music, tea, and comfort, completely insulated from the storm that had already begun moving toward him.
The factory had stopped operating, and the five thousand taels of silver were expected to be delivered today, which left him in an exceptionally good mood.
"Eunuch Xia," he said lazily, not even bothering to look up, "why are you still standing there, take two hundred guards out and collect the silver."
Eunuch Xia bowed with a smile, his voice dripping with obedience.
"As you command, Your Highness, I will go at once."
He had barely taken a step when the noise began outside the estate, faint at first but rapidly growing louder, until a voice rang out clearly even across multiple courtyards.
"Zhu Zhishu, come out."
Then again.
"Zhu Zhishu, come out."
The Shu Prince's expression darkened instantly as anger surged up.
"Who dares to shout my name like that," he snapped, his authority reacting before his mind fully processed the situation.
A guard rushed in, panic evident in his movements.
"Your Highness, this is bad, a large group of workers has gathered at the estate gates and they are causing a disturbance."
"A group of workers," the Shu Prince repeated, his tone dismissive, as if the very idea was laughable, "and you are frightened by that."
His expression hardened.
"Mobilize the guards immediately and beat them back."
This time, he did not leave it to others.
He stood up himself.
Out of his five hundred personal guards, only two hundred had accompanied him to the summer estate, but in his mind, that was more than enough.
The guards assembled quickly and moved out with him at the center, forming a protective formation as they exited the estate.
When the gates opened, they saw only a few dozen workers standing outside, shouting loudly toward the estate.
The Shu Prince glanced at them and let out a cold laugh, because to him, this looked like nothing more than a minor nuisance.
"You ignorant fools," he shouted, his voice filled with unquestioned authority, "have you all grown tired of living."
The workers did not back down.
Instead, one of them stepped forward, his voice steady despite the pressure.
"Zhu Zhishu, you extort the factory, force it to shut down, and destroy our livelihoods, we demand that you stop immediately, allow production to resume, and from now on your estates must pay taxes like ordinary people."
For a moment, the Shu Prince simply stared, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard.
Taxes.
From him.
"This empire belongs to my family," he said slowly, disbelief turning into anger, "why would I pay taxes to myself, what kind of ridiculous logic is that."
Then he waved his hand sharply.
"Beat them."
The two hundred guards advanced immediately, pressing forward with overwhelming force.
The workers turned and ran, clearly unwilling to engage head-on.
The guards shouted loudly as they gave chase, making sure their actions were visible, as if performing for their master.
"Stop running."
"Stand still."
The chase continued as both sides moved around a hill, disappearing briefly from the Shu Prince's view.
He snorted coldly, his tone filled with contempt.
"A bunch of useless trash, running here to make noise without any real purpose."
Eunuch Xia nodded along, smiling.
"Once they are beaten, they will behave."
But before his words could settle, the guards came running back.
Not in formation.
Not in control.
They were fleeing.
"Run."
"Too many."
"Impossible."
The Shu Prince froze, confusion flashing across his face.
Then, in the next moment, the hillside erupted with movement as a massive wave of workers surged into view, their numbers stretching endlessly, filling the landscape like a flood that had broken its banks.
It was not dozens.
It was not hundreds.
It was an ocean.
The two hundred guards were swallowed instantly, their earlier confidence shattered as they ran for their lives.
The Shu Prince sucked in a sharp breath, shock finally breaking through his arrogance.
"This…"
Eunuch Xia's face turned pale, his voice trembling.
"This is bad, this is a mass uprising, Your Highness, we must retreat immediately."
They tried to escape toward the back of the estate, but the moment they turned, they saw the same thing behind them, another endless tide of workers closing in, leaving no space, no path, no possibility of retreat.
The Shu Prince's voice faltered.
"Even the back…"
There was no time left to react.
The guards rushed back instinctively and formed a protective circle around him, but it no longer mattered, because the crowd had already surrounded them completely.
"What are you trying to do," the Shu Prince shouted, panic finally breaking through his voice, "are you rebelling."
The workers did not answer immediately.
Instead, the crowd slowly parted, creating a path.
Ji Menghan stepped forward from within the sea of people, his expression calm, almost curious, as if he was observing a specimen rather than confronting a prince.
Eunuch Xia recognized him instantly, anger and fear mixing together.
"You," he snapped, "you promised five thousand taels, what is the meaning of this."
Ji Menghan did not even look at him.
His gaze remained fixed on the Shu Prince.
"Hello," he said, a faint smile forming, "feudal landlord."
The Shu Prince felt a strange sense of disorientation, because no one had ever addressed him like that before.
Ji Menghan gestured lightly toward himself.
"I am a people's entrepreneur of the new era," he said calmly, his tone carrying quiet confidence, "and I represent the emerging class, here to have a sincere and in-depth discussion with you, who represent the old class."
Then his smile widened slightly.
"You stand for outdated productive forces, while I stand for advanced ones, and right now, your side has begun dragging ours down."
The air grew heavier with every word.
"Throughout history," Ji Menghan continued, his voice steady, almost conversational, "whenever this situation appears, it leads to revolution, war, and regime change."
He paused just long enough for the meaning to sink in.
"And in most cases, the outdated side loses, while the advanced side wins, although there are rare moments when the outdated side manages to win temporarily, but even then, it will eventually be crushed beneath the wheels of history."