Tantai Wuji raised his wrist, fingers forming a technique-seal that he flicked out. A magnificent lotus flower, enormous and shimmering with golden light, appeared before everyone’s eyes — lifelike and vivid in every detail.

“Is this the Golden Lotus you speak of?” Tantai Wuji let out a cold laugh. “A trick that can be produced with a single technique. Even I, who have only just received the inheritance from the old National Preceptor’s ancestor, can manage this — how much more so for demon cultivators who have been practicing the Dao for years? It is nothing but a deception exploiting the common people’s ignorance of the Dao.”

Shen Qinghe and Zeng Guangchuan turned ashen, watching as that lotus slowly dispersed, their lips moving soundlessly.

They were not the same. Even if both were golden lotuses, they were not the same. That one was conjured by a technique — it had the form but not the spirit. Yet the one that had hovered above Lang Jiuchuan’s head had been sacred and solemn, inspiring from the depths of one’s heart both reverence and an instinctive refusal to profane it. That had been the will of heaven.

“No…” Shen Qinghe spoke in outrage: “Daoist Lang is absolutely not the demon cultivator Your Majesty describes. There must be some misunderstanding here. Furthermore, the Golden Lotus confirmation of the path is not something that can be achieved by human effort — the Golden Lotus that confirmed the path for her on that day was the will of heaven itself. Your Majesty, Daoist Lang is not only the descendant of a loyal and upright family, she is also a person of great merit. She has just now saved Great Yan from the brink of disaster. If this also makes one a demon cultivator, then I only hope there may be more such demon cultivators. Please, Your Majesty, examine this matter with clarity. Do not wrong those who are loyal and true!”

A demon cultivator — to hell with being a demon cultivator!

You — whoever it is that has seized the body of the Son of Heaven — you are the true demon spirit!

Zeng Guangchuan hurriedly grabbed Shen Qinghe’s sleeve, his eyes sending frantic signals.

It was useless. Even if both of them knew Lang Jiuchuan was not the demon cultivator the emperor described, the world would only believe what it saw with its own eyes. Now that the emperor had conjured a Golden Lotus with a single technique, everyone would assume Lang Jiuchuan had done the same — cultivating her reputation through spectacle. Even those who practiced no Dao at all — didn’t powerful families routinely employ such methods to build the reputation of a talented child, whether son or daughter?

But for Shen Qinghe, stubborn as he was, to provoke the Jian’an Emperor’s fury was to seek his own destruction. This was especially true now that the emperor before them was clearly not someone to be trifled with — he was utterly unlike the timid, passive young emperor from ten days ago who had done nothing but follow the lead of powerful senior officials. None of them understood his temperament now. Provoking him rashly would do far more harm than good.

Tantai Wuji did, indeed, fix his gaze on Shen Qinghe. He narrowed his eyes and said: “Shen, you plead so strenuously on behalf of this demon cultivator. Could it be that because she once helped you save your son — indeed, your entire family — you are willing to throw in your lot with her, sink to becoming her lapdog, and abet her wickedness?”

“Your Majesty!” Shen Qinghe’s face had gone so livid it was nearly green. He spoke in a measured but forceful tone: “This official reads the books of sages in order to serve the nation and benefit the people — not for personal gain. This official’s loyalty and uprightness is as firm as a millstone. It is true that I feel gratitude toward Daoist Lang. But I also know that countless people throughout Great Yan feel the same gratitude, for she gave her strength to combating the corpse-poison plague and accumulated immense merit.”

Tantai Wuji’s gaze turned ice-cold. “And if it were she who unleashed the corpse-poison plague as a catastrophe in the first place?”

“On what grounds does Your Majesty say this? Do you have evidence? If not, then Your Majesty is calling a stag a horse, giving credence to slander, and framing those who are loyal. I implore Your Majesty to distinguish right from wrong and discern loyalty from treachery.” Shen Qinghe met Tantai Wuji’s gaze without flinching: “This official does not understand. Not ten days ago, Your Majesty said to the Holy Maiden that Daoist Lang should be commended and a shrine to her merit erected. Now Your Majesty calls her a demon cultivator. Your Majesty’s heart and conduct have shifted so drastically and your nature has changed so profoundly — this official dares to ask: is Your Majesty still the same emperor as before?”

A sharp intake of breath swept through the assembled officials.

Everyone thought to themselves: Shen Qinghe was truly wasted not serving as a Censor — he dared say anything. Those words stopped only just short of pointing at the Jian’an Emperor’s nose and demanding to know what manner of demon spirit had possessed him!

Zeng Guangchuan’s heart went cold as stone.

This man was clearly not dying fast enough — throwing himself onto the blade!

“Outrageous!” The chief eunuch erupted in fury: “Shen, you are bold indeed — spouting such reckless words, defying and contradicting the imperial presence. What crime have you committed!”

Shen Qinghe said: “Even a conviction for a grave offense requires evidence. One cannot simply condemn someone on the strength of a single accusation. This official asks Your Majesty — what offense has Daoist Lang committed? What evil sorcery has she practiced? Whom has she harmed, to be called a demon cultivator? What slanderer’s words has Your Majesty heeded, to go so far as to…”

“Shen, you have gone too far!” Zeng Guangchuan erupted in a sharp shout, turning his back to Tantai Wuji and glaring at Shen Qinghe. “Before the sacred countenance of the Son of Heaven, how dare you be so presumptuous!”

He was sending frantic warning looks — ancestor above, please stop talking!

“Is Shen calling Us to account? We say she is, so she is. These were the dying words of the National Preceptor: if this demon cultivator is not eliminated, she will bring chaos to Great Yan.” Tantai Wuji regarded him with cold indifference, utterly devoid of emotion. “Since you feel such gratitude toward her and plead so strenuously on her behalf, you have clearly made up your mind to be in league with a demon cultivator — that makes you a traitor and rebel, and you are to be flogged as a warning to others. Shen Qinghe, for your lack of respect toward your sovereign — taking your loyal service into consideration, the death penalty is suspended, but you shall not escape physical punishment. Take him out and administer fifty strokes of the rod. His family shall be banished three thousand li away.”

His voice was frigid, admitting no question or remonstrance. He gave the order with perfect composure, methodically severing Lang Jiuchuan’s wings and supports.

The sentence was delivered and carried out at once, even extending to the condemned man’s family — all simply because Shen Qinghe had spoken in Lang Jiuchuan’s defense. An upright and loyal official, brought low for nothing more than this.

This was imperial authority. This was the might of the emperor.

The wrath of the Son of Heaven: touch it, and die.

Everyone watched in stunned horror as the palace guards stepped forward and dragged away Shen Qinghe, who was equally dumbfounded.

Shen Qinghe made no plea for mercy. He kept his back perfectly straight, and let out a cold laugh: “The imperial mausoleum in flames, heaven’s punishment descending in lightning — ‘when a kingdom is about to perish’ — those words ring true indeed. With a demon fiend holding power, it is better to no longer be an official of this court!”

He tore the black official’s cap from his head and flung it onto the floor of the golden throne hall.

Moments later, everyone heard the dull, heavy sound of rod-strikes from outside the hall. They fell into silence like frightened cicadas, their faces drained of color, their hearts uneasy.

Zeng Guangchuan dropped to his knees with a thud. “Your Majesty, please reconsider!”

Some also knelt. Others merely bent at the waist.

“Anyone who pleads for leniency is an accomplice of the demon cultivator and shall be punished alongside them.” Tantai Wuji surveyed the officials below with a cold, expressionless gaze. “All of you perhaps harbor doubts in your hearts about why Our temperament has changed so dramatically. It is because We received the inheritance of the National Preceptor and thereby attained enlightenment, which has caused this shift — not whatever demon spirit you are imagining. Consider: the body of the Son of Heaven is naturally protected by the imperial dragon energy. What demon spirit would dare attempt a body-seizure? That is nothing but utter nonsense. We are Tantai Yan, and the blood of Tantai runs in Our veins. We have merely received the blessing of Our ancestor’s shadow and been graced with a Dao-cultivated constitution. Do not over-interpret this!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Tantai Wuji then issued several more decrees that sent chills down everyone’s spines. One hundred thousand soldiers of the Northern Mausoleum Guard were to be mobilized to suppress the rioter commoners; all who participated in the unrest were to be exterminated without exception, and their heads displayed on the city gates. Any soldier who flinched in battle was to be executed on the spot as a warning to others. Since the national treasury was now depleted, to prepare for military suppression, taxes across all regions were to be increased threefold. Furthermore, any who raised troops or caused incidents without imperial authorization would be classified as rebels, with three generations of their family exterminated…

A sound of suppressed gasping, more intense than anything before, rippled through the hall. The measures against the rioters went beyond suppression — they bordered on the wholesale slaughter of city populations, a strategy of extermination ruthless in the extreme. The threefold increase in taxes fell squarely into the category of oppressive governance.

“…The Marquis Kaiping household of the Lang Family has harbored a demon cultivator. Effective immediately, the marquisate is stripped. All members of the Lang Family are to be imprisoned. Until the demon cultivator is eliminated, there shall be no amnesty!” Tantai Wuji issued yet another decree.

He was the sovereign. Even if he became a tyrant in their eyes, he was still the sovereign. If chaos was to come, then let it come. This chaos — she had brought it on herself. It was her fault.

All things moved in cycles of cause and effect.

Tantai Wuji’s gaze flickered and shifted, a flash of blood-light passing briefly through his eyes. What spiritual power could not accomplish, authority could.