The bell of Jietai Temple was tolled at morning, noon, and evening.

The monk who tolled the evening bell was called Misheng. On the first day, he didn’t notice at all—after tolling the bell one hundred and eleven times, his ears were nearly deaf. How could he possibly detect it?

On the second day, Misheng realized something was wrong—the last toll actually made no sound.

But thinking about it, how could that be possible?

It was still the same bell hammer, still the same great bell, using still the same amount of force—how could it not make a sound?

On the third day, Misheng kept his guard up and called his youngest junior brother from their group to help count.

On the last toll, the two of them watched with their own eyes as the bell hammer struck the bell. The great bell swayed, but didn’t emit even a bit of sound.

Misheng immediately broke out in a cold sweat down his back.

The young junior brother, however, was unconcerned.

He persuaded Misheng, saying what did it matter if it didn’t make a sound? Who would be so bored with nothing to do that they’d specifically come count? The temple was so busy—better to avoid trouble than seek it.

Misheng thought about it and indeed, no one would pay attention. Besides, it wasn’t that he was slacking off, so he didn’t spread the news.

But his heart always felt uneasy.

After holding it in for several days, he finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. Taking advantage of the nighttime when no one was around, he ran to find the abbot.

The abbot had lived most of his life and had heard of quite a few supernatural and strange matters, so he didn’t take it to heart.

But now that his superior, Master Pei, had come, he casually reported this matter.

Just in case something happened, Jietai Temple could wash its hands clean.

“Master Pei, about this matter…”

Pei Xiao had thought there was some big issue. After all that, it turned out the bell hadn’t made a sound.

What’s the big deal?

As long as the coffins didn’t crack, anything was fine.

“There have been quite a few strange and odd occurrences in the capital recently. It’s probably related to the mountain mausoleum collapse.”

His tone was very calm: “Don’t spread this matter any further. Just treat it as if it never happened!”

The abbot had only wanted to file a report with his superior in the first place.

“Master speaks very truly. It must be due to fluctuations in fortune and destiny. I won’t spread it—I’ll rot it in my stomach.”

Smart!

Pei Xiao adjusted his official hat. “Alright then, this official still needs to rush to the next temple.”

“I’ll see you off, Master.”

“Though you see a traveler off a thousand miles, eventually you must part!”

The abbot was stunned and looked toward Huang Qi nearby: What’s wrong with your master?

Huang Qi just pretended not to see.

He couldn’t very well say that ever since that night when his master showed off, he’d wilted and had continued wilting until now.

As they spoke, they reached the main hall.

Huang Qi deliberated repeatedly in his heart and finally decided to help his master share the burden: “Master, do you want to light a stick of incense and pray?”

“Pray for what? How to pray? To which bodhisattva should I pray?”

Pei Xiao exploded like a lit firecracker.

Guanyin managed childbirth, the Old Man of the Moon managed marriage—which bodhisattva could manage why that woman surnamed Li didn’t like him?

…

Year Eighteen of Yonghe.

March twelfth. After preparations for the enthronement ceremony were complete, Minister of Rites Du Jianxue memorialized requesting the Crown Prince to ascend the throne.

The Crown Prince hung curtains at the main gate of Qianqing Palace and temporarily suspended mourning.

That day, the Seal Office set up the seal table in Fengtian Hall. The Court of Imperial Entertainments set up the memorial table on Danbi. The Music Bureau arranged the Zhonghe Shao music—but because they were in mourning, it was suspended without being performed.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard set up cloud canopies and cloud plates inside Fengtian Hall to the east, separately set up cloud plates on Chengtian Gate, set up cloud sedans outside the gate, and set up the proclamation table on Chengtian Gate facing southwest.

At nightfall, the capital went under curfew.

The nine great city gates were tightly closed. Those outside couldn’t come in; those inside couldn’t go out.

The Emperor’s Personal Guard and Embroidered Uniform Guard strictly inspected every street and alley in the city, with the Five City Military Commissioner’s Office assisting in the inspection.

Soon, there wasn’t a single person on the streets.

Even both sides of the Yongding River, usually the liveliest area, were silent as crows. All pleasure quarters and entertainment houses closed their doors to guests.

The entire capital was empty and quiet, waiting for its soon-to-arrive new master.

…

Year Eighteen of Yonghe, March thirteenth.

The sounds of bells and drums awakened the slumbering capital.

The bell and drum sounds came from the Meridian Gate.

On both sides of the main tower of the Meridian Gate were three rooms each for bells and drums. Whenever the Emperor personally attended sacrifices at the Temple of Heaven or Temple of Earth, bells were rung. When going to the Ancestral Temple for sacrifices, drums were beaten.

On a day like today when the new Emperor ascended the throne, both bells and drums sounded together—the bell was struck eighty-one times (nine times nine), the drum beaten one hundred and eight times, each with fixed numbers.

At this time, civil and military officials, wearing court robes, entered through the palace gate and had to walk all the way to within the vermillion courtyard to await the new Emperor’s grand procession.

This was quite a long walk. The officials could neither walk too fast nor too slowly. By the time the bells and drums finished, they had to arrive at the vermillion courtyard at exactly the right moment.

After several days of rehearsal, the officials had mastered a trick.

When one bell finished, walk nine steps. Following this rhythm, after walking seven hundred and twenty-nine steps, they would stand firmly in exactly the right place.

Xie Daozhi walked at the front of the queue, calculating in his heart.

As the saying goes: one emperor, one set of officials.

After today, the old Emperor would become the late Emperor. As one of the late Emperor’s cabinet ministers, he should by rights remain in the cabinet for one or two more years as a transition.

But the new Emperor and late Emperor had never gotten along. Once he took the throne, the first thing he’d likely do was replace all these old fellows.

The political situation would probably be turbulent for a while.

Lost in thought, he suddenly noticed something wrong—why had everyone in front stopped, and stopped only a few steps from the vermillion courtyard?

Xie Daozhi was just about to ask the old minister in front what the situation was when from the corner of his eye he caught sight of Qin Qi, the ceremonial supervisor’s attending grand eunuch on the steps, sweeping his fly whisk and calling over a young eunuch behind him to whisper a few words.

The young eunuch took off running, ran to the Embroidered Uniform Guard Commander Feng Changxiu in the distance, and also whispered a few words.

Feng Changxiu’s expression suddenly darkened. He turned to look at the people behind him.

The person behind nodded and waved his hand. Seven or eight Embroidered Uniform Guards rushed toward the Meridian Gate at a run.

The crisis came so quickly.

Xie Daozhi nudged the old minister in front with his elbow and asked in a low voice: “What happened?”

The old minister’s eyes were full of rage, his voice loud enough for everyone around to hear.

“Those people tolling the bell at the Meridian Gate, who knows what they were doing—at such an important occasion, they actually tolled one bell too few.”

Only eighty tolls?

Xie Daozhi’s heart skipped a beat. He thought to himself that this matter was not good.

…

Meridian Gate.

Bell pavilion.

Two brothers who tolled the bell, one named Lin Hai and one named Lin Tao, were kneeling before their superior Zhao Wentu at this moment, trembling all over.

“Master Zhao, it’s not that we didn’t toll it—the bell made no sound.”

“Master Zhao, truly the bell made no sound. I watched him strike it. Save us, save us!”

Zhao Wentu’s body went soft and he collapsed to the ground, wailing more miserably than a ghost.

“I save you? How can I save you? Who will believe it, who will believe it… Even my Zhao family will face complete confiscation. My eldest grandson is only three years old, only three years old…”

When the Lin family brothers heard this, their faces turned ashen as death.

In just a moment, the Meridian Gate was already surrounded by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

A squad of men rushed into the bell pavilion and hauled up the three men collapsed on the ground.

The leading Embroidered Uniform Guard placed his hands on his hips and sneered coldly.

“The new Emperor’s enthronement ceremony, eighty-one bell tolls of nine times nine, and you dared to toll one less—every one of you is damned tired of living. Take them all away and interrogate them to find out who’s pulling the strings behind them!”

“Wronged, we’re wronged…”

The Embroidered Uniform Guard was so angry he kicked out.

“Wronged your mother’s wrong!”