Killing That Provokes Heaven’s Displeasure
As a particularly bright morning star appeared on the eastern horizon, all the residents within a hundred-li radius at the foot of Mount Li were jolted awake by a series of massive explosions.
Boom... boom... boom.
One blast after another, each so loud it seemed to shake the heavens. The startled residents leapt out of bed, not even bothering to grab their outer clothes, rushing outside in panic, terrified that if they hesitated for even a moment, they might never get up again.
"Run! Hurry, run! The earth ox has turned over!"
"Tigerhead, Tigerhead, be good—Mama's here..."
......
Everyone scrambled in panic, pushing and trampling each other; cries and shouts filled the air, relentless and unending.
It wasn’t just at the foot of Mount Li; the same thing happened in several other places. As if by agreement, a few mountains not far from the Capital—where no one lived—also erupted in massive explosions at almost the exact same moment. The booming blasts were so loud they could burst eardrums.
"It's not the earth ox turning over—it's thunder, thunder!" People shouted as they fled, their panic infecting everyone around them, making the chaos even worse.
"Thunder? How could there be thunder in the dead of winter? If Heaven strikes winter thunder, isn’t it out for our lives?"
"Look, everyone, look! Mount Ban is on fire—look at all that smoke, look at those flames!" In the crowd, a man who managed to stay calm pointed at the mountains ahead and shouted. Once everyone saw it, he suddenly changed his tone, dropped to his knees, and began kowtowing toward the direction of the explosions, wailing.
"Heaven is furious, sending down its wrath. We have no way to survive, no way at all!"
"Heaven’s mandate is warning us—Heaven is displeased! Someone must have committed some monstrous crime to provoke Heaven’s anger."
"Heaven is furious—there’s no way we’ll survive this."
With the man crying and kowtowing, everyone else followed suit, kneeling, wailing, and insisting that these sudden explosions were Heaven’s displeasure—a warning from above.
While the crowd was swept up in panic, the man who started the commotion quietly slipped away. None of the frantic villagers noticed he wasn’t from their village at all.
It wasn’t just Mount Ban and Mount Li. In every town and mountain village within earshot of the blasts, the same story spread: Heaven is displeased, Heaven is warning us. Displeased with whom? Of course, with the Emperor, the one said to bear Heaven’s mandate.
The commotion lasted all night near the Capital, but inside the city itself, no one heard a thing. By dawn, the towns around those mountains were in an uproar—people panicked and anxious, banding together to rush the local authorities, demanding an explanation.
At the same time, storytellers in several major cities in the north and south switched up their usual tales, all suddenly speaking of Heaven’s wrath—hinting that someone had committed a grave sin and Heaven was displeased. And that ‘someone’? None other than the current Emperor.
The rumor seemed to sprout wings—within just a few hours, it had spread a thousand li away, yet its origin was impossible to trace.
When the authorities heard these rumors, they immediately sent soldiers to arrest and interrogate people. But the more they tried to suppress it, the faster the story spread. In no time, a wave of 'unease' swept across the entire Eastlyn Empire.
Courier riders rushed eight hundred li a day, trying to deliver the news to the Capital. But for some reason, the usually smooth roads were plagued with trouble: bridges collapsed, giant trees suddenly fell and blocked the way, and most bizarre of all, a huge boulder appeared in the middle of the road, so deeply embedded in the earth it clearly hadn’t just been placed there.
The sudden thunder that split open the mountains, combined with all the strange things encountered along the way, made even the courier riders feel it was Heaven’s will at work—leaving them even more uneasy.
Yet the people inside the Capital remained oblivious. When dawn broke, they went about their day as usual; the Emperor convened morning court just like always, and he was in an especially good mood.
During court, after the usual business, Lord Censor Zhou Yufu submitted a memorial that shocked everyone—accusing Ninth Royal Uncle and Serena Feng of capital crimes. He charged Ninth Royal Uncle with disrespecting the sovereign: after completing his mission, instead of reporting straight to the palace, he escorted a woman home first. By law, that merits execution.
The phoenix hairpin Serena Feng wore when entering the city was, by rights, an ornament reserved for the Empress alone. Without an imperial edict, wearing it was defiance against the throne—a crime punishable by death.
With each accusation, Zhou’s words rang out like hammer blows. The ministers in the hall were chilled to the bone, staring at Lord Censor Zhou in shock, silently cursing him for risking his life. But they quickly realized: without the Emperor’s signal, Zhou would never dare submit such a memorial. The Emperor was displeased with Ninth Royal Uncle, and intended to move against him.
This time, there would be no escape for Ninth Royal Uncle. The ministers quickly glanced at him, standing at the head of the ranks as if he hadn’t heard a thing, and secretly admired his composure—how could he stay so calm?
After sizing him up, the ministers hurriedly withdrew their gazes, not daring to look up at the Emperor seated high above. They shrank into themselves, staring at their shoe tips, terrified of drawing attention and becoming the next scapegoat.
The Emperor, pleased, tapped his dragon throne. He was, after all, the Emperor—no one could anger him and escape punishment. In the end, the entire court had to watch his face.
"Ninth Brother, do you have anything to say?" The Emperor sat high above, his tone that of a magnanimous benefactor.
So this was the Emperor’s plan all along—truly cunning. Even if he killed him now, no one would dare say a word; it was, after all, an offense against the throne.
Ninth Royal Uncle’s expression remained cold and calm. He stepped forward, out of the ranks, and bowed to the Emperor: "Your subject and brother has nothing to say. My loyalty is absolute, and I trust Your Majesty will judge fairly."
Just yesterday he called himself 'this prince,' but today he’s back to 'your subject and brother.' The Emperor sneered in mockery.
Ninth Brother, it’s too late for anything now.
A decision? Hmph...
The Emperor’s eyes were full of mockery, though his tone softened: "Ninth Brother, in terms of family, you and I are brothers, and an elder’s word should be heeded. But in terms of the state, I am the sovereign and you are my subject—a subject must obey his ruler’s commands.
You have defied me again and again. Out of respect for the late Emperor and because you are still young, I have forgiven you time and again. But yesterday, not only did you defy me—you threatened me, showed contempt for your sovereign, and disregarded the law. Even if I could forgive you, the people of this realm could not. Ninth Brother, tell me, what should I do with you?"
There was no room for negotiation—the Emperor had already condemned Ninth Royal Uncle to death. As for Serena Feng, in the Emperor’s eyes she was irrelevant; without Ninth Royal Uncle’s support, she was nothing.
Ninth Royal Uncle stood quietly, meeting the Emperor’s gaze. His eyes were calm, like still water. To the Emperor, it was the look of a defeated man.
The Emperor suppressed his glee, putting on a pained expression and speaking with exaggerated sorrow: "Guards, seize Ninth Prince and send him to the Imperial Clan Court’s prison. Handle him according to the law."
"Yes, sir!" The imperial guards, who had been waiting outside, rushed into the hall and stood behind Ninth Royal Uncle. "Ninth Royal Uncle, if you please."
Ninth Royal Uncle sneered. His imperial brother was indeed calculating—step by step, he’d laid his trap. Now, even if he revealed that the Emperor had threatened to move his mother’s remains from the imperial mausoleum, no one would believe him. Yesterday, his concern had made him careless and he’d fallen into the Emperor’s snare. Now, he was truly caught.
As for fighting back, that was impossible. If he tried, he’d be guilty of rebellion, and the Emperor could kill him in the name of justice without anyone daring to object.
Imperial Brother, I accept your move." Ninth Royal Uncle’s lips curved in a faint smile. He nodded to the Emperor, as calm as ever, and replied as usual: "Your subject obeys the decree."