Chapter 63: The Throne Chose Her
Today was the twenty-fifth of the twelfth lunar month. A biting cold had set in overnight, and as Xiao Yang stepped outside, snow began to fall.
Rong Yin opened an oil-paper umbrella, holding it over his and Xiao Yang’s heads.
Together, they ascended the city wall. One look below revealed the gate tower surrounded by a massive, dense crowd.
An execution is a bloody affair. To watch one alone is terrifying, but when tens of thousands watch together, the fear dissipates.
The first snow of the season brought a biting chill, but it did little to dampen the crowd’s enthusiasm.
The ones being executed today were major figures, fifty-three in all. They had already been through a round of interrogation by Xu Xingchen, but their lives had been spared and their faces left unmarked—all so they could be brought out for this public beheading.
Today’s Executioner was Prince Jing. He would read out their crimes, and at the appointed hour, the executions would begin immediately.
The headsman took a swig of wine, his great blade glinting coldly. A single chop, and a head tumbled to the ground.
The execution platform could only hold ten people at a time, so they were killed in one batch after another.
Soon, fresh blood stained the execution platform crimson.
The gate tower where Xiao Yang stood was hundreds of meters from the platform. Even so, the scent of blood drifted toward them on the snowy wind.
Human life—so resilient, yet so fragile.
Xiao Yang was no bloodthirsty tyrant. She didn’t trifle with human lives just because she held the power of life and death. These people simply deserved to die.
They had colluded with merchants to empty the National Treasury, trafficked tribute goods, and embezzled relief silver. They had used cattail reeds instead of cotton to stuff winter uniforms, causing thousands upon thousands of soldiers at the border to freeze to death year after year.
The Foundry Department passed off shoddy weapons as quality ones; the great blades sent to the army camps shattered on the first strike.
The Ministry of Industry cut corners repairing the river dikes. They were washed away annually and had to be rebuilt annually. It wasn’t just about the money; countless commoners died. Year after year of hard work was ruined in an instant, leaving people starving and homeless.
And not only did they embezzle from the construction projects, they embezzled from the disaster relief funds as well.
The Ministry of Rites was no different. They used funds from the National Treasury for their own revelries and, under the guise of selecting consorts for the Emperor, ruined countless beautiful young women.
The Ministry of Rites was in charge of culture and diplomacy. There was little culture to be seen, but their "diplomacy" had devolved into treason, trading state secrets to other nations for personal gain. Two foreign agents had even infiltrated the ranks of the ministry’s officials.
If Xiao Yang hadn’t moved against them now, if they’d been allowed to continue, the situation would have spiraled out of control, leading to absolute catastrophe.
Killing them, Xiao Yang felt, was letting them off easy.
Every time she thought about it, Xiao Yang seethed with anger.
The Empress Dowager ruled from behind the curtain, the Regent King held true power, and Duke Rong, Grand Tutor Xu, and Prime Minister Song all had their factions controlling the court. With so many people in charge, what had they accomplished? What a foul, corrupt mess!
At this thought, Xiao Yang couldn’t resist turning to glare at Rong Yin.
Rong Yin asked, "What is it?"
Xiao Yang retorted with open disdain, "Hmph. Useless."
Rong Yin glanced toward the execution platform. He had read all the court memorials in recent days, so he was well aware of the evidence against these men.
’The Emperor found him, the Regent King, useless for failing to purge this pile of parasites.’
’It was all a matter of perspective.’
’Six years ago, Rong Yin had been nineteen. Though he assisted the late Emperor with state affairs, he did the work of a civil servant; it would have been impossible to cultivate his own power right under the late Emperor’s nose.’
’Besides, he had been utterly devoted to the late Emperor back then, with no ambition of seizing power for himself.’
’But then the late Emperor died from a sudden illness, bestowing upon him the title of Regent King and making him a thorn in the Empress Dowager’s side.’
’He’d had to secure his position, withstand pressure from all factions, protect his own life, and build his own power base all at once.’
’With no great family to back him, he had to fight for everything himself, surviving in the narrowest of margins.’
’Six years later, he did indeed hold immense power and was gradually becoming capable of vying for the throne, but that was the fruit of a six-year struggle.’
’It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eliminate these parasites; he simply hadn’t had the strength or the opportunity. All he could do was gather evidence in secret.’
’But the Little Emperor was different. She was the late Emperor’s only child, personally named successor on his deathbed—the legitimate Emperor.’
’The Empress Dowager’s faction, even if not truly loyal, would still favor her and not dare harm her. Their interests only existed so long as the Little Emperor remained alive.’
’Grand Tutor Xu was a staunch supporter of Imperial Power. He himself, the Regent King, supported the Emperor out of a debt of gratitude. And whatever Prime Minister Song’s plans were, he wouldn’t dare make a move openly.’
’That was why she was the only one suitable for the throne.’
’It wasn’t that she chose the throne; the throne chose her.’
’Her temper was erratic. She cared nothing for the lives of others, nothing for the courtiers, and nothing for herself.’
’Others needed ironclad evidence to convict someone, witnesses for cross-examination, and a presiding judge. But the Emperor needed none of that. A mere suspicion was enough for her to throw someone in prison and force them to cough up the evidence themselves.’
’It was an absurd way of doing things, but it had become the sharp blade that cut through the rot of the court.’
’Because she was uncontrollable, reckless, and unconstrained, no one ever knew what she would do next. That was what caught them all off guard.’
’This was how an Emperor should be.’
"This servant is not as wise as Your Majesty."
Rong Yin said it without a hint of reluctance.
He had looked down on the cowardly Emperor she used to be; now, the changed Emperor looked down on him.
And yet, he preferred the Emperor she was now.
Dazzling and brilliant, mischievous and unpredictable. A little lazy, perhaps, but truly capable, clever, and decisive—full of charisma.
Rong Yin’s words were sincere, but to Xiao Yang, they just sounded sarcastic.
’Didn’t she know her own limitations? Calling me wise? He’s definitely mocking me.’
Xiao Yang shot him a glare and was about to leave. But as she turned, chaos erupted below.
A group of archers suddenly emerged from the teahouse next to the execution platform, loosing a volley of arrows toward the dais. WHOOSH!
Fortunately, Prince Jing was surrounded by guards, who quickly raised their shields.
Prince Jing, quick-witted himself, immediately dove under a table.
A group of men within the crowd suddenly drew weapons and charged the execution dais, cutting down any bystander who got in their way.
The crowd screamed and scattered as soldiers fought to defend Prince Jing from the attackers.
In an instant, the scene below descended into chaos.
Atop the city wall, Xiao Yang watched, her anger flaring. "The nerve of these thugs!"
Thankfully, there were plenty of soldiers nearby. They quickly moved to support Prince Jing’s guards, forming a perimeter to protect him and push the panicked crowd back.
Xiao Yang kept a close watch and saw two of the unexecuted prisoners being dragged away in the confusion.
Just as she’d thought—they were rescuing the prisoners.
Rong Yin saw it too. He immediately ordered Qing Yu, "After them."
Qing Yu vaulted onto the wall and took off in pursuit, employing his Qinggong.
Rong Yin said, "Qing Yu’s Qinggong is unmatched. They won’t get away."
Xiao Yang watched the scene below. Their objective achieved, a strange whistle pierced the air, and the remaining attackers quickly withdrew.
When Prince Jing heard the prisoners had been freed, he slammed his hand on the table in fury. "After them!" he roared. "Leave none of them alive!"
Xiao Yang frowned. "Find out which two prisoners were taken and bring me their confessions at once."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Xiao Yang glanced at Prince Jing one last time. Seeing he was out of immediate danger, she turned to leave.
But in the very instant she stepped off the ramparts.
"WHIZZ!"
An arrow, its fletching vibrating wildly, appeared before Xiao Yang’s eyes.
The moment she had stepped into the open, the deadly arrow had been loosed, aimed straight for her head.
She sensed the danger, but it was too late to react. Rong Yin yanked her into his arms, pulling her clear of one arrow.
The other he caught, his hand clamped tightly around the shaft.
The arrowhead was less than an inch from her cheek. Bright red blood dripped from it, stark and startling.
It was Rong Yin’s blood. He had caught the arrow barehanded, and the shaft had sliced his palm open.