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The army retreated as hundreds of officials marched in orderly. Neatly categorized according to the type of officials they were, they uniformly knelt down on the floor where the blood had yet to dry.
Everything was prepared, all that was left is for the name to be announced.
The Prime Minister led hundreds of officials to kneel down in front of the palace, nervously waiting for that person that would decide their fate from now on. He did not know who it would be but only knew that His Majesty had once told him that whoever walked out of the palace would be the new ruler.
The sun rose as sunrays cascade down on the majestic, long stretch of jade stairs. The reflected light rays gave the illusion of a mystical, heavenly stairway.
At the top, the tightly shut door to the palace finally slowly creaked open in the watchful eyes of the crowd. A slim black figure stepped out with the imperial degree in her hand.
She stood against the light. She resembled a god that oversaw the world as she stood there, with her back straightened and facing forward.
The hundreds of official squinted their eyes, trying to get a good look at the face of their new leader.
A shocking revelation for the Prime Minister!
'Why is it King Meng of Dahan!?'
The Prime Minister stared at that cold, emotionless lady dressed as a man in stupefaction. Her sharp gaze was somehow familiar.
He suddenly recalled a long time ago, when His Majesty had granted him an audience and said those profound words, ”Don't worry, I will search for us a resolute and steadfast leader for this nation.”
Back then, he had bravely pointed out, ”Your Majesty is wise. Indeed, our current dynasty is chaotic and requires a resolute and wise leader. But… there seem to be none amongst the prince and princess.”
His Majesty had smiled before replying. After a long time, he had said, ”Perhaps, there will be when the time comes.”
Only today, only at this moment, did he understand!
Only today did he finally understand what His Majesty meant!
The thoughts of a visionary emperor were not something that a mere official could understand!
With respect for the old emperor and fear of the new, he quickly straightened his back and led the crowd to prostrate themselves in front of their new leader.
”Your Majesty!”
Xuanji Tiancheng, the sixth day of the fourth month, the identity of the mysterious Empress, was finally revealed. The legendary lady who was Wuji's General, the King of Meng, as well as the Preceptor of Xuanyuan, had once again unfolded a new chapter that astonished the seven countries.
On the sixth day of the fourth month, noon, the newly appointed Empress, Meng Fuyao, ascended the throne. The sun rays mercilessly hit down on the ground, Meng Fuyao donned on a phoenix robe embroidered with the majestic seas and the stunning skies, adorned with accessories made of precious stones. She sat there on the throne, as her robe's long train laid down on the jade stairs. The 19-year-old young lady was at the peak of her prime, so radiant, beautiful, and glorious.
However, the gaze of the Empress reflected none of that; it was cold and sinister. As her icy gaze swept through the place, all the aristocrats and officials lowered their heads.
As the sounds of the long, resounding bugle-horn, Shaofor visiting.
The officials, as well as ambassadors from various countries, noticed that as the imperial decree was being read out, the Empress had displayed her mild annoyance as she tapped her fingers against the throne. It seemed as if she was tapping to the rhythm of a certain melody yet no one knew what that melody was.
Only Meng Fuyao knew. She was tapping to the rhythm of a folk tune that a professor, who was obsessed with it, and one of them was 'Zhong Lǔ·Red Embroidered Shoes.'
”The peak of the mountain gleams ominously like precious blades. Sharpened icicles hang down from the cliff as apes and monkeys mourn, fooling around amongst the clouds. The cuckoo cries as it roars viciously in the dark cave. The dangers that lie in the steep mountain is nothing compared to the evils that lie in the human heart.”
The ruthlessness of a steep mountain was nothing compared to the ruthless human heart!
After the reading of the imperial decree, it was time for her to receive the imperial seal. Feng Xuan handed over the 'imperial seal' over to Meng Fuyao before retreating to the back of the palace. Naturally, the seal was no more as it had been destroyed by Meng Fuyao. Yet, the ceremony could not do without it, and so, Meng Fuyao had casually grabbed a steamed cake, wrapped it in a yellow satin cloth, and shoved it into Feng Xuan's hands. And so, Feng Xuan could only solemnly hand the 'steamed cake imperial seal' over to the official and during the ceremony, hand it over to Meng Fuyao after the official had delivered it to him. During that period, the corners of Feng Xuan's mouth twitched while Meng Fuyao continued as if nothing was wrong. In fact, if not for the fact that she would have to receive the seal, she would have gotten someone to dig out a pile of shit and wrapped it in yellow satin as if it was the seal.
No one dared to point out whether it resembled the seal, and none of the princesses and princes were present—they were duped into the back of the palace and were told that they were not allowed to join the coronation. They were all invited to pray in front of their ancestors for the future of the country. Once the doors were shut as an army of soldiers guarded outside, the princes and princesses began swearing and cursing, of which no one bothered, of course. That being said, Meng Fuyao did give Ji Yu the right to shove a handful of rotten soil into the mouths of those who cursed. As the pungent, unbearable smell filled the room, the descendants of the previous emperor finally quietened down.
Feng Xuan had no issues with it. Honestly, for someone that had finished off all his siblings the moment he ascended the throne, a mouthful of soil was nothing.
Meng Fuyao sat down on the throne, accepting the flattery and congratulations of both the ambassadors and officials alike. Suddenly, she froze.