Jing Hengbo walked a few steps, turning to the courtyard front. Zirui followed, draping a cloak over her shoulders. “The weather hasn’t been good lately. This season brings frequent thunderstorms, and it could rain at any time. You must be careful.”
Jing Hengbo’s heart stirred. She looked up at the sky—it was overcast and gloomy, seemingly this way recently. There should indeed be thunderstorms soon.
She raised her head, staring at a distant building. Its architectural style was quite peculiar, with a high pointed spire like a tower. She casually asked, “What place is that?”
“That’s the Grand Priest’s Observatory.”
“Sang Dong’s workplace?” Jing Hengbo frowned. Sang Dong and Xuanyuan Jing were currently the two court officials most ill-disposed toward her. From the initial trap in Xikang to the persistent difficulties during the welcoming ceremony, she could imagine they would be the greatest obstacles on her path forward.
“Yes. The Sang family has passed down the Grand Priest position through generations. They supposedly possess extremely outstanding divination skills. Their status is very lofty.”
“I feel like the Sang family neither supports the Queen nor Gong Yin, and isn’t even that convinced by Yelu Qi. What are their plans?”
“I don’t understand politics and have no right to comment. I only know the Sang family holds a transcendent position. They’re close to the Huangjin Tribe and are ancient aristocratic families of Imperial Song. They previously had conflicts with the Yelu family over power struggles. As old nobility, they naturally look down on the Right State Preceptor’s common origins. And being priests, they’ve traditionally had a say in the Queen’s succession, so naturally they wouldn’t take the Queen seriously. Perhaps they have other plans.”
“Oh, a third-party power group.” Jing Hengbo nodded. Dahuang’s situation couldn’t be simply described as the Left and Right State Preceptors competing for power. The unique setup of the dynasty’s six kingdoms and eight tribes destined this to be a land of tangled forces and endless turmoil. Anyone stepping into this complex web of vertical and horizontal relationships had to be careful whether they could emerge safely.
She looked at that particularly high pointed top with surprise.
“I heard Dahuang has many thunderstorms in late summer. With such a high columnar spire, hasn’t it ever been struck by lightning?”
High columnar structures were easily struck by lightning—this was common knowledge. Ancient times had no lightning rods.
“This is precisely one of the important reasons the Sang family is considered miraculous and has been revered as Grand Priests through generations. Legend says their family is divinely blessed, descendants of the Thunder God in the mortal world,” Zirui said. “It’s said the first generation Sang family head once recommended herself to the Founding Emperor, requesting to be Grand Priest. The Founding Emperor was troubled by palace buildings frequently being struck by lightning, so he casually said, ‘If you can make lightning not strike you, I’ll believe in your divine abilities. From then on, your Sang family will be Dahuang’s priests for generations.’ He even built a particularly high, pointed tower for the Sang ancestors—the current one.” Zirui pointed to that tall building. “Strangely, from then on, no matter how fierce the thunderstorms, no matter how many palace buildings lightning damaged, only that tall tower remained unharmed. The closest strike hit the ground in front of the tower, cracking the earth into several chasms, but the high tower remained perfectly intact. From then on, the Sang family’s miraculous reputation spread, achieving their status as the priestly family, a century-old noble house.”
Jing Hengbo propped her chin, gazing at that high tower, and smiled.
If she was going to do this, she’d do it big.
“Divine blessing? If this counts as divine blessing, I could practically impersonate the Queen Mother of the West,” she murmured. “But is this coincidence? Or was there another transmigrator hundreds of years ago? Either way, the Sang family’s divine status should end…”
She turned back into the room, dragged out her large suitcase, found something, and weighed it in her hand. Looking up at the sky, she smiled.
…
Before the Queen’s formal coronation, Dahuang had no morning court. Around the fifth hour, important officials would gather at Quiet Court to discuss state affairs.
Early in the morning, Quiet Court’s palace gates opened. Though Gong Yin didn’t appear, Quiet Court’s operations wouldn’t be affected. Everyone knew that Quiet Court was relaxed outside but tight inside—anyone trying to cause trouble inside often entered standing and left lying down.
Meng Hu had already received Gong Yin’s instructions for today: “Closed-door cultivation and rest. The Queen will lead affairs. Adapt and cooperate as appropriate.”
Though strange about this order, Meng Hu still made preparations. He strengthened Quiet Court’s study defenses—no one could predict what reactions this move would bring. Intense backlash was possible.
Meng Hu also found it odd. His master was prudent and steady—was it really good or necessary to stay away now and let the newly arrived, not-yet-accepted Queen face the ministers alone?
Half a quarter-hour before the fifth hour, a large group shuffled over, greatly different from their usual spirited efficiency, accompanied by constant yawning.
“Master Xuanyuan, why are your eyes so swollen and dark today? Are you unwell?”
“Yawn… didn’t sleep well last night. My wife pestered me half the night…”
“Haha, who’d have thought Madam Xuanyuan, though past her prime, still retains her youthful charm. Master Xuanyuan’s romantic fortune is truly enviable.”
“Nonsense! I was pestered by that woman wanting some dress. Dresses are everywhere—why did she insist I find one!”
“Ah, you’re talking about dresses? Was it the dress that appeared on Nine Palace Street yesterday? Last night my two daughters also pestered me, saying they saw two women on Nine Palace Street wearing extremely peculiar and beautiful dresses unlike anything in Dahuang. They insisted I must find those dresses for them. But where could I possibly find them?”
“You’re talking about dresses too? Same at my house—nearly driven mad by aunts, sisters, nieces, and daughters. They sent people everywhere inquiring about those dresses, jewelry, and shoes, searching all over Imperial Song. When they can’t find them, they won’t eat or drink. I was away just one day and the house went into chaos…”
“What dresses could bewitch so many people? Fairy dresses?”
“Even if not fairy dresses, they’re close. I heard all the women in Imperial Song are now discussing those dresses, discussing those two women—how exquisite their makeup was, how special their clothes, how their jewelry and shoes were all earthly treasures. Countless women went crazy over them. All of Imperial Song was turned upside down, with crowds of women rushing into jewelry and clothing shops only to leave disappointed, making those shop owners beat their chests in frustration. Those beauty-obsessed women are practically going insane.”
“Yes, yes, my wife woke me at the fourth watch, chattering about dresses. Heavens, I’d only just fallen asleep at the third!”
“You still slept a few hours—I listened to it all night! Yawn… If the State Preceptor has nothing important today, we’d better finish early…”
“We don’t even know who those two women were. I heard it was just a fleeting glimpse, a brief encounter. No one saw their faces clearly or knew their origins, yet they caused such a sensation in Imperial Song, making everyone who saw them unforgettable. My useless son supposedly sent people inquiring all night… If I knew who those two beauty-bewitching women were, I’d definitely have them expelled from Imperial Song!”
“Master Qiu really shows no mercy to the fairer sex. I’d say this is probably some brothel’s scheme to attract customers—choosing two women, deliberately being mysterious like this to make people search, then revealing their identities after attracting everyone’s attention, becoming famous overnight. Hmm, I’m waiting to see which brothel reveals the secret. Once found, taking them as concubines wouldn’t be bad—I heard they’re peerless beauties. Wonder if it’s Colorful Sleeve Tower or Jade Spring Hall…”
A group burst into approving heh-heh laughter, while another group was busy with tears streaming and yawning.
Meng Hu, receiving them at the gate, listened to their complaints and discussions with a strange expression.
The important officials filed into Gong Yin’s spacious study, all irrepressibly weary and drowsy. Xuanyuan Jing rubbed his eyes and said to Meng Hu, “Usually the State Preceptor appears punctually. Why haven’t we seen him today? If the State Preceptor has business, just say so. There’s nothing urgent today anyway—we might as well disperse…”
Before he finished speaking, the door creaked open again. A voice, lazy and hoarse, laughed: “The State Preceptor has other important matters to handle, and I also have urgent affairs to discuss with you dear ministers today. I’ll preside over today’s meeting.”
Everyone turned back in shock.
They saw Jing Hengbo standing at the doorway with a bright, charming smile.
She wore a standard bright yellow phoenix-embroidered robe, magnificent and dazzling—the Queen’s regular attire that everyone was accustomed to seeing. However, when she wore it now, everyone felt it fit extraordinarily well, with smooth curves. Their gazes involuntarily lingered on her slender waist, only then discovering that somehow, this originally straight-cut royal robe had been given a brown silk sash by the new Queen. Just this small modification immediately created flowing curves and exquisite lines, making her more outstanding than any previous Queen who had worn such robes.
She possessed a peculiar charm—every appearance brought small novelties that brightened people’s eyes.
Jing Hengbo calmly enjoyed everyone’s gazes, smiling as she smoothed her temple hair, casting everyone a glance both dignified and soul-stirring.
Half the people were still lost in dazed admiration of her beauty, while half reacted and stood up in shock.
“Greetings to Your Majesty. May Your Majesty be well.” This was the well-intentioned response.
“Your Majesty! We’re currently discussing state affairs. Would you please temporarily withdraw?” This was somewhat rejecting while saving face.
“Your Majesty! You overstep! Dahuang’s state affairs don’t allow your interference!” This was bluntly telling her to get lost.
The latter two constituted more than three-quarters of the responses.
Sang Dong was already smiling as she said to Meng Hu, “The guard captain has been negligent. How could Your Majesty be allowed into such an occasion? Not only has she not been coronated, but even if she had, this could be considered challenging the State Preceptor’s authority.”
“Reporting to Grand Priest,” Meng Hu replied impassively. “Meng Hu only follows orders.”
Several people heard this and immediately changed color, looking over in startled uncertainty.
Everyone didn’t understand Gong Yin’s meaning—was he letting the Queen enter the inner circle, or did he want to give her a lesson to make her behave in the future? After all, the previous Queen had once shown some restless intentions, which later triggered the Jade Radiance Incident. How could Gong Yin possibly allow disaster to repeat itself?
But Meng Hu’s meaning was ambiguous, revealing nothing of Gong Yin’s true intentions.
After a moment of stunned silence, deeply rooted institutional concepts prevailed. An elderly man stepped forward, blocking Jing Hengbo’s path.
“Your Majesty,” he said sternly. “If the State Preceptor allows you to enter Quiet Court during deliberations, that’s the State Preceptor’s erroneous command. Afterward, we will naturally protest to the State Preceptor. But as Dahuang’s nominal sovereign, you should make defending Dahuang’s existing rules your duty. How can you break rules arbitrarily and interfere in court politics! Please withdraw immediately, or this minister will join with the Six Departments to reconsider your succession qualifications! Please return to your palace immediately!”
Behind him, a large group stood up.
“Please return to your palace immediately!”
“Please return to your palace immediately!”
The voices rolled like tides, the human wall like iron. The palace maids waiting outside turned pale. Chang Fang hurried forward, gently advising Jing Hengbo: “Your Majesty, don’t casually challenge the rules. If you want to come to Quiet Court, you can’t enter so directly. Please return first…”
Xuanyuan Jing and others coldly ordered: “Seal the side door immediately! Tomorrow, please have Your Majesty move out from next door and return to her own bedchamber!”
“Oh, you won’t let me in?” Jing Hengbo blinked. “If you won’t let me in, then you won’t. Why get so angry? I’m so scared.”
While patting her chest, she smiled and turned around. Some ministers expected her to resist, but seeing her so casual, they all showed surprised and contemptuous expressions.
“Bringing humiliation on herself!” Fei Luo, who had been coldly observing, sneered.
Jing Hengbo seemed not to hear, turning around with a grin, saying as she walked: “You’re the ones driving me away, right? Well then, if I fail to deliver the divine revelation that the Priest’s High Tower is about to be struck down by lightning, you can’t blame me…”
The crowd was noisy at this moment, so her voice wasn’t very clear, but some of those standing in front, most vehemently opposed, still heard her.
“Stop!” Sang Dong’s voice rang out, slightly losing composure.
Jing Hengbo acted as if she hadn’t heard, continuing to walk out while laughing heartily.
“What divine blessing? What divine spokesperson? What immunity from heavenly thunder? What auspicious exemption?” She spread her arms wide, heh-heh laughing as she faced the gloomy sky outside. “How could the gods continuously favor one family? What virtue and ability do you possess to monopolize the priest position for a century? Even emperors die generation after generation—what gives one priest family the right to hold the position forever?”
“Stop!”
Jing Hengbo turned around, tilting her head with a bright smile at Sang Dong, pointing to herself: “How rude, Grand Priest. You should say, ‘Your Majesty, please wait.'”
“For someone who doesn’t follow rules, dares to intrude into Quiet Court before even being coronated, speaks nonsense and insults the priestly family, I have no need for respect,” Sang Dong said. Her well-maintained face showed raised eyebrows with sudden sharpness.
“Fine then,” Jing Hengbo nodded casually. “Soon you won’t be a priest anymore anyway. Before misfortune strikes, people always court death—I’ll let you court it.”
“Is Your Majesty here merely for verbal sparring?” Xuanyuan Jing said coldly. “Please explain clearly what you mean by the priestly family being abandoned. If Your Majesty cannot provide a proper explanation, we’ll not only pursue Your Majesty’s error in trespassing into Quiet Court but also your crime of slandering important ministers.”
“The priestly family’s glory cannot be casually erased!” Sang Dong coldly added.
“Exactly, so the gods are erasing it.” Jing Hengbo casually tossed her long hair.
“What do you mean the gods are erasing it? The heavenly gods worshipped by Dahuang can only be divined by Priest Sang family through fortune-telling to receive divine oracles!”
“The Yangtze River’s back waves push the front waves, each generation replaces the old with new.” Jing Hengbo casually walked forward, casually sitting in Gong Yin’s position in the center of the room, crossed her legs, and tapped the chair’s armrest. “The divine revealer in the mortal world has changed!”
“Who?”
So many people cared about this question that no one noticed she had calmly sat down.
“Of course, it’s humbly yours truly, me.” Jing Hengbo smiled and pointed to her own nose. “Have you all forgotten about summoning the colorful phoenix to the ceremonial platform during the welcoming ceremony?”
Everyone was stunned.
When Jing Hengbo suddenly appeared on the ceremonial platform, claiming to have colorful phoenixes escort her, everyone had discussed and wondered about it, but without results, they’d forgotten after a few days.
“That was just light-body movement techniques!” Sang Dong refuted.
“Oh? Such amazing light-body skills?” Jing Hengbo casually pointed to the guards outside. “There, you brought guards into the palace. Call any master you want—whoever can fly from Quiet Court here to my courtyard kitchen in the blink of an eye, I’ll leave immediately and even apologize and kowtow to you, Sang Dong!”
Everyone fell silent. Sang Dong choked, her face flushing red.
Such light-body skills—not only did Dahuang not have them, but looking across all kingdoms, where could you find them?
“Come, come, come,” Jing Hengbo knocked on the table. “Bring out today’s agenda. I promised to help the Right State Preceptor handle today’s affairs.”
“The earlier matter hasn’t been explained yet. Why does Your Majesty bring this up now?” Xuanyuan Jing frowned.
“NO NO, not explanation,” Jing Hengbo waved her finger. “Transmission.”
“Transmit what?”
“The Queen has emergency deliberation rights. Because I received two divine revelations, this counts as urgent business, so I’m summoning you all to transmit and deliberate.” Jing Hengbo crossed her legs, her long fingers casually tapping her chin, ignoring several elderly ministers’ frowning.
“Please say everything at once, Your Majesty! Playing mysterious has no meaning!” Sang Dong finally lost patience.
“The priest’s god supposedly once protected the Priest High Tower from heavenly thunder punishment, establishing the priestly family’s status.” Jing Hengbo stood up. “And the divine revelation I received says that the Sang family doesn’t follow regulations, violating the priestly family’s rule against participating in politics. For years they’ve interfered in Dahuang’s national politics with wild ambitions and improper behavior, already defiling the family’s divine nature. Therefore, the Sang family’s divine blessing rights have been revoked.” She pointed to the Priest High Tower. “Within three days, the Priest High Tower will definitely be struck by lightning!”
The crowd was shocked. Sang Dong shrieked: “Nonsense! All nonsense!”
“Whether it’s nonsense or divine oracle, we’ll know in at most three days, won’t we?”
Everyone looked up at the sky—overcast and threatening rain, with large iron-gray haze clouds covering the horizon. There would likely be thunderstorms that very night.
“Gibberish! Vicious slander!” Sang Dong rushed quickly toward Jing Hengbo. “My Sang family’s dignity won’t allow you to…”
Meng Hu stepped aside, bringing a group of guards to block her path without a word.
“Quiet Court is an important place,” Meng Hu said with lowered eyes, his blade half-drawn. “No violence allowed.”
Grand Scholar Chang Fang also rushed over, standing in front of Jing Hengbo, glaring at Sang Dong: “Grand Priest Sang, why be so violent? Your Majesty bears Dahuang’s national fortune and people’s livelihood—dare you use force?”
“Those who insult my priestly family’s century of reputation are forever enemies of my Sang family!” Sang Dong had also lost her usual elegant bearing, her voice shrill.
Jing Hengbo leaned back in her chair, picking her nails, occasionally lifting her hand to blow on them, not even glancing at Sang Dong.
Why speak so bitterly and hatefully? Had she treated me as a friend before?
Jing Hengbo remembered something Taishi Lan once said: People don’t harm me, I don’t harm people. If people harm me, I must return it double.
This was the only thing she agreed with Taishi Lan about.
“Whether it’s an insult or not, we’ll know in three days!” Chang Fang showed no yielding.
“Exactly.” Fei Luo, who had been coldly observing, suddenly stood up and smiled. “Grand Priest needn’t be angry either. After all, words can’t be spoken carelessly—once spoken, one must take responsibility. Since Your Majesty says the Priest High Tower will definitely be struck by lightning within three days, we’ll just watch. But I have a question for Your Majesty: if the Priest High Tower remains safe and sound within three days, what will you say?”
Jing Hengbo glanced at her sideways.
Women who play politics are really ugly to look at—see that face full of cunning light. A perfectly good beauty, looking crooked-faced and twisted-mouthed.
Jing Hengbo expressed that she must definitely become a beautiful and positive new-style political strong woman.
“What else can I say? Do whatever you want to do.” She smiled sweetly, propping her chin. “Not allowing coronation, exile—haven’t you always been thinking about it?”
Fei Luo smiled without humor.
“But speaking of which, if I’m right, what will you say?”
“You are the Queen—you should be right in the first place.” Fei Luo’s answer was cunning.
“I’m right?” Jing Hengbo glanced at her sideways. “I also think you’re a bitch who brings disaster to the country and people. Am I right?”
Fei Luo’s pink face instantly turned iron-blue.
“Hehehe, just giving an example—don’t get angry. How could you be a bitch? You’re clearly a scheming person. And bringing disaster to the country and people—that’s a skill point only world-class beauties can possess. Though you’re also considered moderately attractive, you’re still far from it.” Jing Hengbo smiled like a flower.
Fei Luo’s iron-blue face turned cold white like frost. The female prime minister of Xiang Kingdom, who could handle battlefields, discuss state affairs, devise strategies, and manage politics, found herself somewhat unable to adapt to such vicious and shameless public cursing.
Jing Hengbo indicated this was nothing—she just needed to experience internet trolls.
Xuanyuan Jing’s expression also looked unpleasant. He discovered that the new Queen seemed lazy and easygoing without temper, but was absolutely skilled at verbal sparring. The key was she could say anything—the concept of self-respect didn’t exist before her.
“Your Majesty, why beat around the bush? Might as well speak directly.”
“I never beat around the bush with gentlemen—I just have no choice here.” Jing Hengbo straightened up, saying with an innocent face, “This brings us to the second divine revelation. The gods said I am the Heaven-ordained Queen, chosen by the gods to descend upon Dahuang, naturally bearing the responsibility to save the people and revitalize Dahuang. But the current system forbidding Queens from participating in politics doesn’t conform to divine instruction. How can a Queen ignorant of state affairs exercise the power given by the gods?”
“Exactly!” Chang Fang immediately nodded repeatedly. “Your Majesty is naturally intelligent, extensively learned, with a brilliant mind and exceptional talent. If such ability is cast aside, it’s a loss for our Dahuang, a loss for the people. This minister believes we should modify the laws to allow Your Majesty to listen to government affairs, or appropriately offer reasonable suggestions on state matters.”
Jing Hengbo scratched her chin—was this old man talking about her?
She clearly remembered Wen Zhen’s evaluation of her: “Bosom full of breasts, belly full of straw, face full of gluttony, lifetime of infatuation.”
And this was still the highest evaluation among the three.
“The Queen is the country’s nominal ruler, the spiritual sovereign of Dahuang’s people. During her reign, she’s not allowed to participate in politics. This is Dahuang’s iron law for hundreds of years, the primary principle recorded by the Founding Emperor in the ‘Imperial Code’!” Xuanyuan Jing’s voice was resolute. “Does the Grand Scholar remember the subsequent annotation?” His face darkened, eyes flickering with sinister sparks as he spoke word by word: “Anyone who attempts to violate this law and covet Dahuang’s national politics can be jointly eliminated!”
Chang Fang’s face changed, pressing his lips tightly.
Jing Hengbo frowned. She couldn’t quite understand what was wrong with this Dahuang founding emperor—establishing a kingdom that wasn’t inherited by descendants through generations, but creating some reincarnation system where reincarnated Queens were puppets while real power often fell to the Left and Right State Preceptors. This neither-king-nor-minister situation—what was the point?
Looking at everyone’s expressions now, they clearly all agreed with Xuanyuan Jing.
Though Jing Hengbo didn’t love reading, she’d watched countless historical soap operas. Powerful screenwriters used even more powerful imagination to tell her that any vested interest group wouldn’t allow outside forces to casually probe their power. Any reform of long-standing systems and governments, if too radical and forceful, often ended in failure.
Even emperors weren’t exceptions, let alone her powerless Queen.
No rush—take it slowly. The softest knife cuts deepest.
“Who wants to participate in politics? Who wants to seize power?” She knocked on the table, attracting everyone’s attention before saying, “Can’t I exercise the power given by the gods to do something for the people? The Sang family received divine favor, occupied the Grand Priest position for hundreds of years, and entered the national power center for many years. The Sang family can do it—why can’t I, a Queen?”
“Precisely because you’re the Queen, you cannot!”
“Not participating in politics, not deliberating politics, just listening to government affairs and contributing when I can—this isn’t allowed either?” Jing Hengbo suddenly stood up, kicking over the stool beneath her.
Bang! A loud crash as the stool fell at everyone’s feet, shocking them all into looking up at her in stunned silence.
Jing Hengbo’s smile completely vanished, her face full of sinister aura, eyes half-open and half-closed, her loose long hair suddenly flying soundlessly.
Everyone stared at her in amazement, feeling she’d suddenly become a different person. Some remembered her talk of divine revelations and couldn’t help but feel tense.
Could it be the gods had descended? Were the gods angry?
Jing Hengbo stared straight ahead, suddenly opening her mouth.
“Not participating in politics, not deliberating politics, just listening to government affairs and contributing when I can—this isn’t allowed either?”
The exact same sentence—everyone was shocked and pale.
Because the voice suddenly changed.
From a slightly lazy, hoarse female voice to an androgynous, coarse, unpleasant strange sound!
More importantly, when Jing Hengbo said this, she only opened her mouth without moving her lips!
Everyone’s eyes widened in shock, seeing Jing Hengbo’s vacant gaze while her long hair mysteriously floated up behind her.
The rigid beauty, vacant gaze, sudden strange voice, flying scattered hair.
It looked like legendary divine possession.
For a moment, the entire room was shocked into silence, all watching Jing Hengbo by the upper desk.
But Jing Hengbo remained motionless for a long time, with slight sweat seeping from her forehead.
Everyone wanted to urge her but were infected by the mysterious atmosphere, feeling somewhat awed.
Fei Luo suddenly stood up, quickly stepped forward, bowed slightly, and lifted the table cover hanging beside Jing Hengbo’s desk.
It was completely empty underneath.
Fei Luo, who had originally suspected someone was hiding under the desk to perform ventriloquism with Jing Hengbo, disappointedly lowered her hand and looked behind Jing Hengbo.
Behind her was just a wall—no way to hide a person.
Fei Luo had to sit back down even more disappointed.
Under the desk.
Er Gouzi hung upside down on the back of the desk, tightly gripping the wood board’s crevices.
Feifei hid at the table’s edge, clinging to the table’s rim, her snow-white fluffy tail wagging, stirring up breezes that fanned Jing Hengbo’s long hair.
…
The “divinely possessed” Jing Hengbo suddenly raised her hand.
Er Gouzi let out a strange, theatrical roar: “Ya!”
A tremendous crash sounded in the courtyard, as if a real lightning bolt had struck down, followed by a clattering sound of broken bricks and tiles.
Meng Hu’s face changed dramatically. “Not good!” he shouted, rushing out quickly. Everyone hurriedly followed, then stood in the courtyard looking at each other.
The courtyard was filled with rolling dust and smoke.
A pile of broken glazed tiles lay on the ground.
A guard who had been standing outside pointed at the roof in shock, shouting loudly: “Stones fell from the sky! They hit the roof’s edge! We saw no one around!”
Everyone gasped, looking at each other. Chang Fang stood stunned for a long moment, then rushed back into the room.
Jing Hengbo had returned to normal, sitting down with her long hair cascading down her back, tiredly supporting her head, saying wearily: “What happened just now? Why did you all go outside?”
Xuanyuan Jing and others who entered later looked at her suspiciously. At this moment, Jing Hengbo appeared weak and dazed, exactly like the legendary state after divine possession.
Only Sang Dong secretly gritted her teeth—this expression and state was her Sang family’s specialty! When had this woman learned it!
Jing Hengbo was indeed tired now.
She’d had Feifei place stones on a tree near the roof beforehand. Just now, controlling it with her mind, that unreliable Feifei had chosen stones that were too heavy. When she’d stood rigid with vacant eyes, she was actually straining to move the stones.
She moved her finger, putting away the recorder in her sleeve. Er Gouzi’s pre-recorded sentence had worked well.
“Your Majesty…” Chang Fang said carefully, “You just now…”
“I fell asleep just now?” Jing Hengbo pretended to rub her eyes. “Ah, I didn’t seem to sleep well last night…”
“That…” Chang Fang was a learned scholar who didn’t particularly believe in supernatural events, but having seen it with his own eyes, he didn’t know how to describe it.
Meng Hu very timely took over: “Your Majesty, it seemed you were possessed by divine spirits just now.”
“Ah, yes,” Jing Hengbo secretly felt grateful, immediately looking enlightened. “When the heavenly gods give me instructions, it’s always this feeling. Today I felt particularly tired… Did the heavenly gods get angry?”
Everyone fell silent. Meng Hu pointed to the damaged roof.
Jing Hengbo peeked over and gave a cold laugh.
“I said I represent divine will. The gods had just a small request—needing me to speak for them in the mortal world, to do good things for the people. Yet you mortals dare to make excuses and resist, despising divine will!”
Some people looked solemn, while Xuanyuan Jing and others were dissatisfied and angry but couldn’t find words to refute.
“I won’t argue with you either.” Jing Hengbo stood up. “You’ve seen the divine sign and heard the gods’ will. If you stubbornly refuse, the next step will be punishment for you—like the Sang family.” She suddenly turned to Sang Dong. “So the gods are taking back their blessing from your family.”
“Can you just say it’s taken back?” Sang Dong sneered. “You say the gods have re-chosen you—does that make it so? Do you take these dignified court ministers for children to deceive?”
“Who has been deceiving the world for years, they know themselves.” Jing Hengbo grinned and pointed at her chin. “Of course I have proof.” She turned to the ministers. “If lightning strikes the Priest High Tower within three days, wouldn’t that prove the gods have withdrawn their blessing from the Sang family?”
Everyone fell silent. They wanted to refute but couldn’t find reasons. The Sang family’s blessing was based on lightning not striking—if lightning struck, the blessing would naturally be gone.
Chang Fang said: “Naturally so.”
Sang Dong glared at him fiercely. The old man’s expression remained unchanged.
“If I can collect the lightning that strikes down the high tower, wouldn’t that prove that I’m the one who received the blessing this time?”
The entire assembly was shocked.
Collect lightning—what did that mean?
Xuanyuan Jing and others had originally guessed that if Jing Hengbo’s next words claimed the tower being struck proved she was the newly chosen divine recipient, they would definitely refute her point by point. However, hearing this sentence, they were also stunned.
No matter what, collecting lightning was an inconceivable act—it would be impossible to deny this was a divine miracle.
But…
Sang Dong still wanted to refute, but Xuanyuan Jing stopped her, looking coldly at Jing Hengbo: “Your Majesty boasts quite loudly.”
“How can it count as a divine miracle without big boasts?” Jing Hengbo smiled slightly.
“If you can’t do it?”
“What do you think?”
“Then please Your Majesty retire to Blackwater Marsh for the rest of your life.”
“This…”
The previous sentences were simple and direct, but when it came to Blackwater Marsh, Jing Hengbo hesitated, showing some uncertainty, as if she hadn’t expected such a harsh punishment and was somewhat retreating.
Sang Dong had originally been uneasy seeing her confident appearance, but now seeing her hesitation, she knew Jing Hengbo was also inwardly weak without complete confidence. Her spirits immediately lifted as she sneered: “My Sang family dares accept this wager. If lightning strikes the Priest High Tower, we’ll definitely give up the priest position. How is it that Your Majesty speaks so confidently yet doesn’t dare accept now?”
“Accept then accept—who’s afraid of whom?” Jing Hengbo indeed showed signs of being provoked, answering immediately but glancing uneasily at the distant high tower.
Sang Dong relaxed slightly. She didn’t believe in collecting lightning. As for the lightning strike, she naturally knew why her family’s high tower wasn’t struck by lightning. She’d already decided to increase guard forces within three days, with all experts deployed, ensuring not even an ant could approach the high tower. If Jing Hengbo really wanted to make trouble at the high tower or collect lightning, she’d make sure she could go but never return!
“If I can do it, then you can no longer oppose my previous request to listen to government affairs, right?” Jing Hengbo knocked on the table.
Everyone exchanged glances, feeling the Queen couldn’t possibly succeed. Even if she did, it was just listening to government affairs, not participating in or deliberating politics, much less deciding state matters—it didn’t seem particularly important. Moreover, the Queen seemed quite extraordinary. If she could really offer reasonable suggestions for Dahuang’s national affairs and people’s livelihood, it might not be a bad thing.
Only Xuanyuan Jing, Fei Luo, and a few others frowned tightly. They wouldn’t think so simply. A thousand-li dike collapses from ant holes—any erosion of power starts with inconspicuous small matters. First listening to government affairs, then possibly questioning politics, even participating in political deliberation. Once you open the door, it might be impossible to stop.
However, in group opinions, individual views always seemed relatively weak. Moreover, though Xuanyuan Jing had strong family influence, he was only a Remonstrance Official. Fei Luo was Xiang Kingdom’s female prime minister—she had the right to listen to but not decide on dynasty state affairs. Real power had always been held by Gong Yin and his supporters.
And Gong Yin’s subordinates, because Gong Yin wasn’t present today, lacked a backbone. They also thought this wager might be the State Preceptor deliberately luring the Queen into a trap to solve the Queen problem once and for all.
Everyone tacitly agreed. Again it was Chang Fang who declared magnificently: “Naturally there will be no further objections!”
Everyone found the old man quite annoying. Jing Hengbo smiled with narrowed eyes, finding the old man absolutely adorable.
“Then, today’s memorials—bring them up first.” Jing Hengbo extended her snow-white palm. “I’ll receive them for the State Preceptor first.”
Everyone felt strange again. They were reluctant to hand them over, but protesting now seemed meaningless. Anyway, there would be a resolution within three days—either the Queen would pay the price and get lost, or sit firmly in this position. Letting her have some contact now wouldn’t determine the big picture.
Everyone presented their matters for discussion and handed over memorials. Jing Hengbo indeed said nothing, just listened carefully while silently memorizing and analyzing in her mind.
Several ministers below exchanged glances and held back what they’d originally wanted to say. Today, officials from Yelu Qi’s faction had planned to counterattack, trying to extricate Yelu Qi from the Zhaoming Office investigation. However, with Gong Yin absent and the Queen presiding, discussing this with the Queen was inappropriate in various ways, so they had to restrain themselves.
Meng Hu retreated to one side, his eyes showing slight amazement.
He hadn’t expected that under such absolutely disadvantageous circumstances with no help, Your Majesty could actually end up sitting firmly in this position, having all the ministers conduct deliberations around her.
This was something the previous Queen had always tried to do but failed to achieve, and something that no fewer than ten Queens in Dahuang’s hundreds of years of history had tried every method to accomplish while unwilling to accept their fate, but none had succeeded.
When he received the State Preceptor’s secret order, he was extremely surprised, feeling this was completely impossible. He’d even deployed guards, prepared to rescue Jing Hengbo if the ministers became violently angry.
Yet now he watched Jing Hengbo sitting in Gong Yin’s position, smiling gracefully while talking with the ministers. It felt like a dream.
Inconceivable.
He suddenly felt somewhat moved, thinking that facts proved the State Preceptor’s vision was always extraordinary.
But…
A trace of worry flashed through his heart as he sighed silently.
…
When Quiet Court’s assembly ended, Jing Hengbo sat in her chair, smiling and waving goodbye.
“Everyone remember to come on time next time!” she didn’t forget to remind them.
Everyone pursed their lips—as if she’d be presiding over politics from now on.
After the last person walked out the door, Jing Hengbo looked up at the sky. A faint lightning bolt was cutting through the gray clouds like a snake, quickly disappearing into the horizon.
“When do you think I’ll become number one in the world?” she turned to ask Er Gouzi, who had jumped onto the table.
“Today! Today!”