The moment the towering waves crashed down, the arrogant laughter of the rebels in Yuzhao Palace had not yet ceased.
The palace guards retreated far to one side, while private armies of various families took the opportunity to brazenly plunder spoils of war.
Inside the hall, a suffocating silence prevailed. Everyone stared at the thick, fresh blood slowly meandering across the floor, saying nothing. The deep red curtain’s edge draped across the queen’s face, also stained with spots of blood.
After a long while, someone finally said softly, “Dead?”
“Perhaps.” Xuanyuan Yu carelessly wiped his hands, turned around to face the crowd, and declared loudly, “Since the queen is dead, shouldn’t we elect a new king?”
At these words, the ministers who had been somewhat uneasy and wanting to leave the court immediately stopped in their tracks. After a moment of silence, someone said, “This is a matter of great importance that requires careful deliberation.”
“Deliberate what? Don’t you know that long nights bring many dreams?” Xuanyuan Yu rolled his eyes. “In today’s affair, the primary credit should go to me. Are you planning to renege on your promises?”
Immediately someone retorted, “You dissolute wastrel…” The words stopped halfway, and he snorted with resentment, “Though Master Xuanyuan has rendered great service in this matter, you yourself seem rather unsuitable…”
“Unsuitable in what way?” Xuanyuan Yu glared at the speaker.
Before that person could respond, someone else loudly declared, “Dahuang has been established for hundreds of years, but we have never heard of a one-armed emperor!”
At these words, the hall erupted in commotion with faint sounds of snickering. Xuanyuan Yu’s face flushed red as he roared, “Who! Who dares insult Master Xuanyuan!”
As soon as he raised his voice, the Xuanyuan family’s private guards outside the hall charged up the steps, drawing their swords with ringing steel and glaring menacingly.
With swords drawn on one side, the atmosphere immediately grew tense. The minister who had been targeted by the blades called out, and his companions’ guards also rushed into the hall, their blade-light facing off against each other.
A crowd of noble ministers hid behind the sword formations, beginning a new round of verbal warfare and power struggles.
“Your Xuanyuan family’s talent has withered. Even if you have merit in this affair, at most you deserve a promotion in position. How could you be worthy of Dahuang’s throne?”
“Then is your Li family of Prince Xiang worthy? Nothing but upstarts from humble origins!”
“My Deyuan Feng clan is a founding noble house of civil and military merit, true descendants of the dragon-following meritorious ministers. When discussing bloodlines, shouldn’t everyone acknowledge the Feng clan?”
“Hahaha, are you telling jokes? Civil and military merit? Who still clings to achievements from over ten generations ago? Why don’t you count how many generations your Feng clan has been removed from real civil and military power?”
…
The magnificent hall suddenly became a marketplace. The cold mockery and heated arguments gradually escalated from verbal sparring to rolling up sleeves, waving arms, brandishing swords, and drawing blades. The light clinking of clashing weapons mingled with various cutting sarcasms, combined with the thick smell of blood in the hall, stimulating everyone’s emotions. No one knew who threw the first punch, but after that first blow, everything became uncontrollable. Hats flew off, sashes were grabbed, robe corners were trampled by many feet, swords and spears clashed overhead. The usually dignified gentlemen pressed their foreheads against each other, picked each other’s nostrils, and dragged each other around in bruised and battered heaps. Therefore, no one noticed that in the corner, under the curtains, Her Majesty the Queen, who had been quietly bleeding, had somehow disappeared.
Naturally, no one noticed that the hall doors had been quietly closed at some point.
Of course, they were even less aware that the moment the hall doors closed, orderly footsteps echoed in the darkness.
Most of the private troops still guarded outside the hall. The space inside was cramped, limiting how many could enter. Those people had finished looting nearby and gathered with their bulging bundles, panting heavily from exhaustion, yet reluctant to put down their heavy burdens. Hearing footsteps, they turned around abruptly to see the palace guards who had been driven far away earlier had somehow regrouped.
The family private troops stared dumbfounded at those guards who had seemed timid and cowering just moments before. Now they stood in neat formations, fully armed, with bright armor and cold gazes, pouring out from various palace roads and courtyards, closing in. In just a few breaths, they had formed an encirclement.
The contrast was too great. Someone dropped their bundle with a loud clang in shock.
More footsteps came from behind, seemingly from within the hall. Everyone turned again to see a group of people emerge from somewhere inside the hall, led by someone with blood streaming down their face, looking quite terrifying.
After studying for a moment, someone called out in surprise and confusion, “The queen?”
Jing Hengbo hurriedly emerged from a side door of the hall, not even glancing at the surrounded family private troops. As she walked outside, she asked Yu Chun behind her, “How is it?”
“Marshal Pei and Marshal Ying have joined forces.”
“When will they reach Yuzhao Palace?”
“About a quarter of an hour.”
Jing Hengbo looked back at the hall interior where the arguing continued, and a mocking smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Greed truly was an essential tool for deceiving, entrapping, harming, and seizing nations.
She pressed her face, and Yu Chun asked from behind, “How do you feel?”
“Too much sugar,” she said indifferently. “Sticky and cloying.”
Yu Chun seemed to sigh, muttering, “Why must we make it look like this when everything was fine? Even if it’s fake, it’s still frightening to look at.”
Jing Hengbo gave him a look. “Who told you all that you couldn’t train an identical replacement in a short time?”
Yu Chun grimaced and dared not respond further—their mistress spoke lightly, but had no idea how difficult it was to train a substitute. It was easy to imitate someone briefly, but to truly replace them convincingly before all acquaintances required long-term contact and adjustment. Back then, Zou Zheng had also been privately cultivated for a long time, and besides, the State Preceptor was aloof and proud, rarely appearing in public. Ordinary people were so intimidated by his bearing that they dared not lift their heads for a careful look, making deception relatively easy. But this queen had traveled throughout Dahuang, seen by countless people. She was approachable and beautiful, making people want to look again and again, leaving deep impressions after seeing her. It could be said that within three to five years, trying to cultivate a second Jing Hengbo would be harder than reaching heaven.
With no alternative, they had to resort to this desperate measure. Yu Chun shuddered at the thought of what would happen if their master saw such a face and believed it to be real.
Jing Hengbo licked her finger and walked over. The fake blood contained sugar and red yeast, strangely sweet.
A private soldier standing relatively close to her heard this conversation and stared at her back in amazement.
But he would never have a chance to understand the meaning of those words.
Dense crowds of palace guards had already closed in step by step. Within the shrinking encirclement, these private troops, laden with gold and jade and lacking fighting spirit, cooperatively laid down their weapons and were led away in groups.
Inside the hall, the arguing and fighting continued unabated when suddenly there was a bang. Xuanyuan Yu was kicked by someone unknown, crashed into a window, shattered the long window with a crash, and tumbled outside. Roars of laughter erupted from inside, with someone loudly sneering, “Missing an arm really is convenient!”
Xuanyuan Yu fell to the ground. Jing Hengbo waved her hand, and guards immediately stepped forward to help him up. Xuanyuan Yu also laughed loudly, “Indeed, I’m convenient, but you all are going to have quite a bit of trouble!”
“Boom.” A thunderous sound accompanied the end of his words. Those inside the hall heard the sound seemed nearby and stopped fighting in amazement to look back.
Then their eyes widened.
Through the long window, the first thing they saw was the queen who should have been lying dead under the curtains and trampled to death. She still had blood streaming down her face, looking terrifying, standing on the golden cauldron before the hall door, looking down at them from above with a lazy yet dangerous smile at the corner of her lips.
The second thing they saw were countless guards at the windows, holding bows and arrows and raising torches high.
The third thing they saw were massive waves of black-clad figures flooding onto the pristine white plaza before the hall like a tide. The black torrent interweaved with deep red torches into magnificent heavy brocade, spreading thickly across their field of vision.
In the faint white dawn light, the leading banners appeared to be white and black-red, seemingly the banners of the Yuzhao Dragon Riders and the Crosshalberd Army.
Everyone felt their minds explode with a thunderous sound.
After all, these were people who had clawed their way through officialdom. Once their momentary greed-driven impulse passed and they saw the situation before them, then looked at Xuanyuan Yu outside the hall getting up with a sinister chuckle, they immediately understood what had happened.
From beginning to end, it had all been the queen’s scheme!
The throne and Xuanyuan Yu were merely bait thrown out.
The queen had been drawing the snakes from their holes to catch them all in one net!
They were nothing but the lured snakes, the beasts trapped in the web!
The marketplace became a graveyard. In the deathly silence, someone groaned, “Why? Why?”
As if awakening dreamers with a single phrase, everyone looked up sharply with the same incredulous expression—why?
Though this move was ruthless and precise, it would certainly severely damage Dahuang’s vitality.
Any newly ascended ruler would never use such heavy-handed methods to remove malignant tumors. Which dynasty or generation lacked ambitious schemers? Which lacked ministers driven by desire? But when water is too clear, there are no fish. Court politics must be maintained, the court must function, state affairs must be handled, and the realm still needed ministers to support it. Wise rulers would choose gradual progress and differential treatment. Why completely uproot everything without leaving any room?
This upheaval would shake the capital, and no one could suppress it. The queen’s approach also indicated she wouldn’t conceal it. Tomorrow in court, half the positions would be empty. Five department heads and deputy heads, various nobles and their descendants, the powerful families of Imperial Song… With three-fifths of Dahuang’s court gone, how could she claim to rule?
Everyone stared at the queen on the golden cauldron. In the firelight, her sleeves fluttered and her posture was straight, but blood streamed down her face with flesh torn and curled, her appearance already ruined.
That incredible feeling returned.
To root them out, she had destroyed more than half the court and ruined a woman’s most precious incomparable beauty. Had she truly gone mad?
Someone drew a breath and exchanged glances with others, feeling that they hadn’t yet reached a dead end and should band together to reason with the queen and negotiate properly.
But before they could speak, Jing Hengbo’s casual remark made their vision go black, confirming she had indeed gone mad.
“Burn it all.”
…
Year 373, March 11th.
A great fire in Yuzhao Palace’s main hall that never fully ignited extinguished the blazing flames of desire in the hearts of the rebellion participants.
Guards outside the windows held torches and poured tung oil liberally, completely unconcerned that the hall contained so many nobles whose mere stamping could shake Imperial Song, unconcerned that all these people together could throw Dahuang into chaos. Just like preparing to roast a row of suckling pigs, at the queen’s command, without even counting to three, they hurled the torches inside.
With a whoosh, flames immediately engulfed these most noble people of Imperial Song.
The screams, whether from panic or surprise, taught the ministers who were accustomed to threatening before negotiating what true ruthless determination meant.
Those who had prepared to unite in resistance, to threaten the queen and form alliances to turn the tables, faced with flames singing their eyebrows and the queen’s unhesitating killing intent, immediately lost all their cleverness and schemes. They cried out in terror and begged for mercy.
Delays created variables, but Jing Hengbo only intended to give them a choice between life and death.
The broken long window was the only escape route, guarded by countless soldiers. To climb out, one first had to surrender their family emblems and seals, then under soldier supervision, write confession letters and list all their possessions, resources, power, and allies.
Some still hoped to summon private troops to protect their escape after getting out, but seeing the plaza already filled with Yuzhao Dragon Riders, the Crosshalberd Army, and even the Kanglong Army, they realized from beginning to end, they had merely been manipulated fools.
Someone was willing to ignite flames across the realm to attract moths to the flame, burning away ugly faces in one fire to reveal the truth of human struggle.
From that day forward, messenger horses never ceased in Imperial Song.
In those galloping shadows was the collapse of noble houses one after another, the imprisonment of groups of aristocrats, cries of regret and anguish, and cartloads of wealth.
Twelve families of Imperial Song nobility participated in the rebellion. The ringleaders and all their male descendants were imprisoned, their titles stripped, their family wealth completely confiscated for the state, though their wives and daughters were spared. Other followers were dealt with according to the severity of their crimes.
For a time, Imperial Song’s prisons overflowed. The Crosshalberd, Kanglong, and Yuzhao armies guarded the city day and night inside and out, sealing Imperial Song completely—exit permitted but entry forbidden.
Half of Imperial Song wailed while half celebrated. Jing Hengbo ordered that half the confiscated noble wealth go to the state treasury, while half be used for the citizens of Imperial Song’s livelihood, education, and medical care. She established charity halls, using the great families’ wealth to support those under ten and over seventy who had no means of survival.
The entire Imperial Song court trembled. Those officials who hadn’t participated in the rebellion became more fearful of royal authority and more diligent in their duties, while also grateful for the queen’s mercy. Though the scheme to draw out the rebels was ruthlessly unconventional, the aftermath wasn’t bloodthirstily cruel. Except for a few ringleaders who resisted stubbornly with unrepentant hearts and were beheaded in the marketplace, most were spared execution. A considerable number of follower offspring were exiled, and some who had participated in confusion or under coercion, after investigation by officials and cross-referencing testimonies, could even return to court service, though they could never return to their former positions and had to start over. But for those who had escaped death, this was already tremendous fortune—throughout history, high treason regardless of severity meant exterminating nine generations with rivers of blood. That the queen had raised her hand so high yet brought it down so gently surprised everyone and allowed them to breathe a long sigh of relief. Thus, while Imperial Song’s court would inevitably face upheaval, at least it wouldn’t be completely paralyzed.
The deep trouble with removing malignant tumors was that they often couldn’t be completely removed, causing ongoing complications that ultimately led to failure under pressure. But if removed thoroughly with all participants cleared out, those people would lose subsequent power and struggle to create major waves. Even if temporarily paralyzed, with more innocent talented people remaining, recovery was possible within two to three years.
Sometimes Jing Hengbo was grateful for Dahuang’s unique situation, which had allowed her to build relationships with surrounding nations and tribes during her journey in exile. Thus Imperial Song’s chaos was contained within Imperial Song itself. Otherwise, in any other nation, once the center was in turmoil, the first thing to face would be separatist forces from various regions and rebellions from ambitious generals.
As for those considerable numbers of family private troops, they were another malignant tumor uprooted in this rebellion. Previously, no one had imagined that the private armies maintained by various families under the guise of household servants and guards would add up to such a massive force capable of shaking Imperial Song. If the Kanglong, Yuzhao, and Crosshalberd armies hadn’t remained under the queen’s control, the outcome of this internal Imperial Song rebellion would have been uncertain.
Jing Hengbo ordered all these people sent to a secret facility near Imperial Song to do hard labor. After training and indoctrination there, they would be completely dispersed and incorporated into Imperial Song’s three great armies. These people weren’t family slaves of the noble houses, merely hired guards, so there was no need for total extermination. Instead, they supplemented Imperial Song’s garrison forces. From her generation forward, noble family guards were strictly limited, and family private armies would no longer exist.
During those turbulent days in Imperial Song, the queen always sat high on the throne handling state affairs with white cloth wrapped around her face. Rumors spread that Her Majesty had fought against the rebels on the day of rebellion, been injured in the face, and her appearance was ruined.
After wrapping her face with white cloth for a month, the ministers had prepared themselves mentally for the queen’s “disfigurement.” When the queen appeared in court one day with a scarred face, everyone lowered their heads without surprise, not daring to look again at that uneven face with a deep red scar running across the entire cheek.
Having experienced the day she seized Imperial Song, then Imperial Song’s internal strife, the queen was no longer the bright yet naive woman the ministers remembered from the red carpet of Wuming Platform Plaza, nor the desolate queen exiled from Imperial Song in wind and snow. The scar on her face seemed to remind everyone—this had been a path of blood and fire fusion. However heavy the scars, so too the weight of lives and schemes.
In Dahuang year 373, the Imperial Song court cowered and trembled.
In Dahuang year 373, Imperial Song did not know its history was approaching a turning point.
In Dahuang year 373, Imperial Song gave birth to the most controversial yet most powerful queen in its history. She was privately called “Bloody Scarface” by those nobles who feared and hated her yet no longer dared resist her. She was quietly called “our most beautiful girl” by the people of Imperial Song.
In Dahuang year 373, April, Imperial Song, under martial law for so long, finally slowly opened its gates. Groups of people in tattered clothing, shackled and chained, filed out from the city gates in columns, accompanied by escorting soldiers.
People on all sides watched silently, knowing these were Imperial Song criminals being exiled for participating in the rebellion. They would cross most of Dahuang to reach Blackwater Marsh, where they would be supervised by Daimo.
In the crowd was a small soldier walking lazily at the very back, hat slightly askew, armor somewhat crooked, occasionally lifting his eyes to glance at the blazing April sun, pulling his hat down further.
Under the hat brim’s shadow, the small soldier’s skin was translucent as water, with jet-black eyes that swept past the bright red queen’s banner atop the city wall.
The escort officer walking at the front looked back at this small soldier, somewhat displeased and puzzled that under the current queen’s rule, someone still dared to be so slovenly and bored.
But he didn’t dare interfere, because this person had squeezed in through connections, supposedly the neighbor of the nephew of the wife of the brother of Marshal Ying of the Yuzhao Dragon Riders. He was traveling along to return to Daimo, bore no escort responsibilities, wasn’t responsible for any security, and requested minimal supervision… In short, not to be offended.
The escort officer thought viciously that if this fellow behaved himself on the journey, fine, but if he caused trouble, once he completed the escort mission and returned to Imperial Song with his reward, he might even meet the queen and could severely denounce him then!
That small soldier kept staring at the queen’s banner—having seen the queen’s banner again after more than half a year, with today’s departure, who knew when they might meet again?
If she couldn’t raise that white mountain, black water banner beside the queen’s banner, better not to meet at all!
Suddenly someone roughly shoved her from the side. Turning her head, she saw a person wearing a bamboo hat. Under the hat, those flying black eyebrows immediately revealed their identity.
Before she could frown, the fellow quickly and quietly said, “Don’t scold, careful not to be discovered.”
“What are you doing here?” She frowned, wondering how Pei Shu had learned of her departure from the capital when she’d chosen such a secretive identity and timing.
“Came to deliver someone. I’ve tried to tell you several times before but never had time. I have someone here who needs to leave Imperial Song to find people. She has good martial arts and can travel with you.” Pei Shu quickly handed over a person. “Like you, squeezed in through connections, said to be the daughter of the sister of the master of the brother of my future wife…”
“Get lost!”
“She might be able to help you find who you’re looking for.”
She paused, her gaze finally sweeping over to clearly see that person’s appearance, her eyes flickering.
Behind them, Imperial Song’s city walls rose majestically. The State Preceptor’s banner pole stood solitary and tall, making low ringing sounds in the wind.
She gazed for a long moment, then turned around. “Let’s go.”
The person behind her silently followed.
Dahuang year 373, April.
The queen departed Imperial Song.