Though it was only a few dozen steps, she walked as if treading on needles, trembling with each step.

The golden-patterned blue robe fit him perfectly. The jade sword at his waist gleamed with white and green brilliance, reflecting the first light breaking on the eastern horizon, creating a faint dazzling effect.

At the red steps before the Purple Glory Palace, various ministers were already waiting. The Gate Officials, Deputy Military Officers, and civil and military officials were arranged in rows. All eyes were filled with disbelief as they watched him lead her by the hand up the steps into the hall.

Behind them rang the sharp sound of whips. Within the Purple Glory Palace, the golden walls shimmered, the space vast and cold.

She was desperately anxious, frantically twisting her wrist as she walked with hesitation, trying to break free from his grip. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with him, how he could commit such a rebellious, protocol-breaking act during this solemn and grand coronation ceremony.

Yet he held her tightly, saying in a low voice: “Why are you ill?”

She didn’t answer, suddenly growing angry and snapping: “Let go!” A wave of dizziness hit her head, her breath heavy in her throat. Her heart was filled with both anger and resentment—anger that she couldn’t overcome his domineering ways, and resentment at why he was so perceptive and insightful about everything.

The four palace doors opened with a thunderous sound. Court attendants and secretaries carried the abdication edict from the Emperor at Deshou Palace, requesting the Crown Prince to ascend and sit beside the eastern side of the throne.

He released her hand, looking deep into her eyes, then turned to walk up to the dragon throne, sitting facing east. His long arms stretched out, his wide sleeves extending, and the gold and red apron fell into place.

Outside came another whip sound. Tinghui looked back to see the Gate Officials lining up to ascend the steps. She took a deep breath, clasped her hands at the sides of her skirt to wipe away the sweat from her palms, then lowered her head and slowly stepped forward, standing north-facing below the dragon throne.

After the Gate Officials and Deputy Military Officers—twenty people in all—had completed their congratulatory rituals in the hall, the civil and military ministers entered in sequence, standing horizontally facing west.

She stood beneath his seat, her face forcing a composed expression. She gazed straight at the court officials in their tall hats and heavy robes as they entered the hall one by one, arranging themselves on both sides. Outside the hall doors, at the foot of the steps, officials in blue robes stood in a dense crowd that seemed endless to her increasingly dizzy and blurred vision. Only by pinching her palm inside her sleeve could she steady herself.

All female officials of the sixth rank and above were permitted to enter the hall in their regular attire, standing behind the high ministers. Though they dared not whisper among themselves in the hall, the glances they cast toward Meng Tinghui—some hidden, some obvious—were enough to indicate that these female officials were also quite dissatisfied with Meng Tinghui serving as the lead official for the grand ceremony. Moreover, the earlier scene of the Crown Prince holding her hand to enter the hall aroused feelings of displeasure among these young women.

The attendant who came from Deshou Palace by imperial order unfolded the gold-decorated imperial edict at the front: “The Emperor’s decree to all ministers and generals: ‘The Crown Prince is benevolent and wise, as all under heaven know. The Crown Prince shall ascend to the imperial throne, and I shall be known as the Emperor Emeritus. The Prince of Ping shall retain his title. I shall retire to the old palace of Suiyang in the western capital to respond to military and state affairs, and all shall listen to the disposition of my successor. I have reigned for thirty-nine years. Now I am weary and ill and have long wished to retire in peace. This decision comes from my heart alone, not at the suggestion of the Crown Prince. You all should exert your efforts to assist my successor and together invigorate the great enterprise of the realm.'”

The words of the imperial edict had already been personally proclaimed by the Emperor during the abdication ceremony at Deshou Palace. Now it was merely a repetition of the coronation ceremony. Yet unexpectedly, among the high ministers below the throne, some could be heard weeping upon hearing it, seemingly unable to suppress their grief.

The Emperor and the Prince of Ping had reigned together for thirty-nine years. From fighting each other to sitting side by side to stabilize the realm, collecting weapons, and governing the people’s livelihood, they had jointly ruled over all the people in the world. Now they were passing on their lifetime’s achievements to their only offspring. How could the old ministers who had followed them for decades accept this calmly?

There was a stir among the officials on both sides, and some stepped forward.

Meng Tinghui’s forehead was covered in sweat. Looking carefully, she saw it was Gu Qin, who had returned to court half a month ago, along with Right Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs Xu Ting, Military Commissioner Fang Kai, Participant in Determining Government Matters Wang Yiwen, and Associate Administrator of the Military Commission Jiang Ping, all heavyweight officials from the eastern and western factions.

Instead of facing the new emperor on the throne, they turned toward the attendant holding the gold-decorated imperial edict, bowing deeply and saying: “We, your unworthy ministers, have assisted in governance for many years, with mountains of guilt, yet have been spared punishment. Now the Emperor and the Prince of Ping have made their transcendent decision, which we truly admire. But from now on, we will not be able to see Your clear radiance daily. Our feelings of loyalty, like those of dogs and horses, cannot bear this parting.”

Though these words expressed the loyal sentiments of the old ministers at court, they were extremely disrespectful to the new emperor—after the abdication edict had been announced, how could they still refer to “the Emperor” in front of the new sovereign?

Yet he sat rigid on the throne, his face cold, with anger hidden at the corners of his eyes and brows.

She glanced sideways at him, immediately alarmed in her heart. Though she knew this was an attempt by the old ministers of both factions to establish their old authority at the beginning of the new emperor’s reign, she feared he might become angry in public. At that moment, she didn’t care about observing the ceremonial protocol of waiting for the attendant to finish announcing the edict before speaking. She quickly turned to face the throne, lifting her skirt and kneeling heavily, bowing her head and saying: “Now that we respectfully meet His Imperial Majesty ascending the precious throne by Heaven and the people’s will, I, with my meager talents, fear I am not adequate to assist the new government. Yet riding the winds and clouds of this once-in-a-millennium opportunity, I truly cannot express enough joy along with all the people under heaven.”

She spoke these words with extreme difficulty, having to use all her strength to pronounce each word loudly enough for all the officials in the hall to hear clearly.

Her fingers, pressed against the hall tiles, turned white at the knuckles. Taking a deep breath, she continued: “The Emperor Emeritus and the Prince of Ping have made their decision. This great position concerns all the people under heaven. I pray Your Majesty will ascend the throne and face south properly, upholding the Emperor Emeritus’s intention of succession, without allowing refusal.”

The entire hall was silent, with all eyes on her as she prostrated herself below his throne.

She gently closed her eyes, lowered her head heavily to the ground, and loudly proclaimed: “I, your unworthy minister, serve as the lead official for Your Majesty’s grand ceremony. I wish Your Majesty ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!”

These repeated addresses of “Your Majesty” shook people’s ears, and the cry of “ten thousand years” stirred their hearts even more.

With this ritual performed, all the civil and military officials lifted their robes and knelt, offering congratulations, bowing, and shouting “Ten thousand years!” The lower officials at the foot of the steps outside the hall also knelt upon hearing, bowing, and calling “Ten thousand years” three times, the sound echoing throughout the palace and beyond.

This was the end of one era and the beginning of another.

The iron and blood had faded away, and the curtain of splendor was rising. The vast land throughout the realm was enchanting and diverse, with spring flourishing everywhere.

Her forehead pressed against the cold hall tiles, her ears catching the distant echoes of “Ten thousand years” from outside the hall, yet her heart was bitter and uneasy. Without rising to look up, she knew how solemn and majestic he appeared on the dragon throne, his face, like his heart, cold and inscrutable.

Closing her eyes, her mind flashed back to that night, to that handsome youth who had held her in his arms.

Days and months had been so long. He was her life-saving benefactor, her only admiration, her Crown Prince Highness. Now he had finally become the Emperor to whom she would devote her life.

The attendant’s announcement for the officials to rise seemed to fall from the ninth heaven, clear yet ethereal.

She knew she should raise her head and stand, should respectfully ask him to descend and return to Western Splendor Palace, and should join the court officials in celebrating the new emperor’s ascension. But she couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t lift her head, couldn’t rise to her feet.

Her head spun unbearably, her body feverish, no longer even sweating, as if all her blood had been boiled dry. Waves of pain surged through her abdomen. Her entire body was curled up kneeling on the hall tiles, unable to move.

Finally, those around her noticed her abnormal state. The nearby officials showed signs of panic, and another attendant hurried over, calling: “Master Meng… Master Meng…”

She wanted to say she was fine, but no sound would come from her throat. With effort, she raised her eyes but could only see the shadowy figures around her, unable to distinguish who was who.

Amid the dull pain, she felt her waist and back tighten, and in the next moment, she was lifted.

Her nostrils twitched, catching the familiar faint fragrance, which startled her immediately. She struggled to open her eyes and indeed saw his blue-collar right before her nose. She gasped in shock: “…Your Majesty!”

Still in the great hall, how could he step down from the dragon throne under everyone’s gaze and hold her like this?

Ignoring her struggles and the unconcealed stares of the ministers and officers, he carried her directly out of the hall doors, letting two eunuchs waiting outside take over, ordering: “Use my sedan chair to send her out of the palace. Command the imperial physicians to go to the Meng residence to examine her.”

The crowd of officials at the foot of the steps parted like grass in the wind, making way for the two eunuchs to carry Meng Tinghui down.

He watched them place her in the sedan chair before returning to the hall with his hands behind his back, ascending the steps to his seat with large strides, his cold face raising an eyebrow.

Whispers filled the hall.

Participant in Determining Government Matters Wang Yiwen stepped out from the middle, his brows tightly furrowed, and said: “Your Majesty has just taken charge of this great enterprise, with ambitious plans still unfulfilled. How can you disregard court protocols and principles because of one woman?”

He leaned casually against the golden back of the dragon throne, his gaze sweeping across the assembled ministers. He did not respond to Wang Yiwen but coldly addressed everyone: “If any civil or military ministers at court harbor resentment toward Meng Tinghui, why not step forward today and let me see?”