The next day, Heaven Dou City.
Before the morning fog had fully lifted, a heavy air already blanketed the capital. People on the streets exchanged glances, wondering about the horrifying racket from the palace last night.
"Have you heard? Last night, at the palace—"
"Shh! Quiet! The palace notice went up before dawn!"
In an ordinary restaurant, a few early diners huddled in hushed tones.
A skinny man nudged his neighbor. "Hey, Old Wang, do you really think last night's chaos… was just as they announced? Was Ning Fengzhi really bold enough to storm the palace straight after His Majesty's death?"
Old Wang glanced around, muttered,
"It's all spelled out in black and white. Why would it be fake? This sect… what can I say…"
"Hmph." The skinny man snorted, a glint of satisfaction.
"I don't buy it."
"Oh? What do you mean?" asked another, intrigued.
Sensing all eyes on him, the skinny man leaned in, dropping his voice lower.
"If you ask me, the real problem lies with the royal family. Think! How did the late emperor come to… take the throne? And now, it's just—"
Before he could finish, a hand as broad as a fan slapped him hard across the face. He hit the ground, his cheek swelling instantly.
The restaurant owner, who'd struck him, pointed and cursed,
"Who does this troublemaker think he is? Everybody, throw this drunkard out!"
Then he glared at the two gossips.
"The both of you, out! Spread rumors again and I'll break your legs!"
They turned pale, watching the scene, and fled at once.
The boss spat at the doorway, muttering,
"Does that idiot think his neck's made of iron?"
Some things must never be spoken aloud, for death would be swift.
…
Heaven Dou Imperial Palace.
Inside, the atmosphere was even more oppressive. Though the place was cleaned all night, the faint scent of blood lingered.
Court officials and military officers stood with heads bowed, many pale, red-eyed—sleepless and shaken.
Xue Qinghe, donned in the Crown Prince's robes, now sat upright upon the Dragon Throne of the Heaven Dou Emperor. His face seemed grim, eyes cold and deep as a quiet pool, staring impassively at the silent officials below.
"You all know last night the palace was thrown into chaos," Xue Qinghe said, his voice not loud but penetrating every corner.
"My father died suddenly from anxiety and overwork; the nation mourns. Yet, the traitor Ning Fengzhi seized this moment of mourning to rebel and throw the court into disorder!"
He paused, letting the conclusion settle, then continued.
"Thanks to our ancestors' protection and my loyal subjects' efforts, the villains' plot failed. Ning Fengzhi and his cohort have been executed—their remaining forces are being eradicated."
Heaven Dou Academy's Head of Teaching Administration Meng Shenji stepped forward, his face sorrowful but his stride firm. He bowed low and spoke in earnest:
"His Majesty's passing has shattered our hearts and brought immeasurable grief. Yet, an empire cannot be without ruler even a day—nor the nation without its Sovereign a single moment."
"Your Highness, I, Meng Shenji, humbly urge you to ascend the throne at once, and bring peace to our people!"
Meng Shenji, though not completely ignorant of the truth, could sense the illness on that night was far from simple. But he had his own calculations. Compared to the stubbornly entrenched nobility of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, the rising Body Sect and Grand Martial Academy were much closer to the soul masters among the people—a perfect match for the educational reforms Meng Shenji always dreamed of.
He had long bet on Xue Qinghe, and now was the time to secure his position.
"We support the proposal!"
"Lord Meng is right! Your Highness, place the nation's peace first and ascend the throne as soon as possible!"
"Your Highness, please accept the crown!"
The moment Meng Shenji finished speaking, voices of assent erupted. Whatever anyone's private thoughts, all the ministers eagerly fell in line, resentful at most of Meng's quick maneuvering.
For most, the choice between Xue Ye and Xue Qinghe as ruler was not what truly mattered. The key was whether the new power would safeguard or expand their families' interests.
At this point—following, and showing loyalty, was the wisest course.
On the throne, Xue Qinghe slowly surveyed the crowd, taking in every nuance of their faces. As grief gradually faded, he nodded gently:
"My father has just passed. Normally, I would stay in mourning. But your wishes—are for the nation and its people."
"The traitors are dead, but order must be restored quickly. For the country and the people, I accept this duty. I shall ascend the throne!"
With the Crown Prince's legitimacy and absolute power now in hand, no need for three rounds of feigned refusal.
He turned toward Chen Yi with a gentle smile.
"Brother Chen, without your sect's stout support last night, those traitors' scheme might have succeeded. The Heaven Dou Empire will never forget your deeds!"
"According to imperial tradition, your achievements shall be rewarded with noble titles, generals' rank, and eternal honor for your sect."
"But I know your sect seeks neither power nor position. Therefore, I will grant your reward with the full assets of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."
"All agencies will cooperate fully with the transfer—nothing must go awry."
A "hiss" swept the court despite expectations.
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan was the richest in the world, its accumulated fortune beyond counting—which was now being given away entirely?
Much of this wealth had been entwined with nobles or ministers' own interests. Their hearts ached.
But, seeing Xue Qinghe's expression—and the calm Chen Yi beside him—they swallowed all protest.
Money could be recouped. Angering these two could mean death.
Chen Yi stood, bowed lightly, his smile serene.
"I thank Your Majesty for such generosity. On behalf of the Body Sect, I express our gratitude."
He sat, almost looking like he was resting after days of hard work, though inwardly calculating how best to use so much gold.
"The treasury must be renovated—solid gold only!"
Qian Renxue, observing from above, noted Chen Yi's steadfast composure before vast wealth. His spirit was truly exceptional. Yet she could never fully fathom what he was actually thinking.
With barely a pause, Xue Qinghe moved to issue a string of major personnel and policy changes as the new Emperor.
Key positions changed rapidly. Many long-term subordinates of Qian Renxue or Spirit Hall plants in the Empire instantly assumed power.
More and more nobles wore grim expressions; the speed and severity of the power reshuffle surpassed every expectation. Many clans lost real power, ground painstakingly built, all at once.
Some approached, lips trembling for a protest—but the instant their eyes fell on Chen Yi, the words died.
The new Emperor was not the former. He had the Body Sect backing him. To cross him spelled the end of any clan.
Patience brings peace, they reminded themselves. The new emperor naturally needed trusted hands. Losses, though steep, could be rebuilt; time would bring future chances, once things stabilized.
As the assembly neared its end, hurried footsteps echoed outside.
The gold-armored captain of the palace guard strode in, kneeling at the bottom of the stairs.
"Your Majesty! The Honorary Marquis of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, Yu Xiaogang, awaits an audience at the palace gates!"