The Forbidden Palace was quiet deep into the night, but alert guards still patrolled the grounds. Not that it mattered—Eunuch Chief Yvonne had already memorized the patrol schedule. Even if she hadn’t, with her status in the palace, she could go anywhere she pleased and no one would dare question her.
This was terribly convenient for Eunuch Chief Yvonne herself, but for the whole dynasty, it was actually a pretty sad state of affairs.
At midnight, the two appeared inside a lavish great hall. The hall featured six dragon pillars and a nine-tiered golden jade staircase. Thanks to some clever design, it stayed comfortably warm in winter and cool in summer, and its acoustics made sure every word spoken carried to every corner. Especially up in the deepest, highest seat—anything said there would sound thunderous and awe-inspiring.
This was the tallest, grandest building in the entire palace—a massive gilded plaque made sure everyone knew its name from a mile away: Grand Celebration Hall.
In other words, it was the main hall of the Southern Song Palace—the place where all the big political meetings happened.
Tonight, Eunuch Chief Yvonne and Joan had come here.
"So this is the Dragon Throne?" Joan stared at the dazzling golden chair at the very top, her eyes practically glowing.
"Yep, that's the one. Bet it feels wild eating here!" Eunuch Chief Yvonne sauntered over and spun around to plop herself down, instantly reverting to her true self. Rubbing her face and patting the chair beside her, she complained, "Ugh, keeping up that old eunuch act every day is making my face cramp. Hurry up, come give me a massage!"
Joan slowly walked over, eyeing the massive Dragon Throne. No matter how you looked at it, this was the seat reserved for the true ruler of the Han Dynasty, the one who held the power of life and death over the world. In a way, this throne represented her dream. She reached out, tracing the patterns on the armrest, feeling the heavy, cold solemnity.
Yvonne watched all this, then suddenly grinned, walked over to the spot where she’d been standing during recent court sessions, and pinched her throat to announce, "His Majesty has arrived!"
Joan shuddered at the words, spun around atop the high platform, and gazed down at the sea of kneeling officials below.
Then Yvonne lowered her voice and put on a dramatic act: "Long live the Emperor! Long live, long live, long live!" Her shout echoed from every corner of the Grand Celebration Hall. Her Sound Skill wasn't as magical as Yvonne's, nor as refined as Teacher Yang's, but if you just needed a passable imitation, she was pretty convincing—almost like the real officials were down there bowing and chanting for the Emperor.
Joan scanned the room, swept her robe dramatically, and took her seat with all the grace and swagger of an empress. Her expression was regal and severe, and she raised her hand with a commanding voice: "Rise, my ministers."
Then someone else piped up, mimicking the chorus of officials: "Thank you, Your Majesty!"
Joan’s eyes went dreamy, as if a thousand emotions welled up inside her. But in a flash, she burst out laughing, shook her head, and sighed softly: "You really know how to have fun. Come over here and let me give your shoulders a rub."
"Heh, I’ve been dying to play this game!" Yvonne scooted over and sat beside Joan on the dragon throne, twisting her body and groaning: "Ugh, after pretending to be someone else for so long, my back is killing me, my legs are cramping—Majesty, please, work your massage magic! Yes! Right there! You’ve got the royal touch!"
"Alright, enough with the 'Majesty' stuff. You sound like a kid playing house." Joan kneaded and patted Yvonne's shoulders with one hand, while the other opened the food box. The delicious aroma wafted out, making Yvonne’s mouth water instantly: "Wow, that smells amazing! Who made it?"
Joan lifted her chin with pride: "I made it."
Yvonne’s eyes went wide: "You can cook? You don’t look like the cooking type at all!"
Smack! Joan gave her a playful slap on the back and rolled her eyes: "Why can’t I cook? My food is legendary! Back when I was a kid begging on the streets, I could turn anything into a feast. That’s why I became the head of all the local street kids—nobody dared mess with me."
"Mmm, delicious! Absolutely delicious!" Yvonne dove in, showering Joan with praise. She was so caught up in eating that she forgot how many meals she’d missed. Not remembering was fine, but now that she thought about it, she realized she was actually pretty hungry.
"Take your time, there’s plenty." Joan spread out layer after layer of food boxes, then asked, "I saw you frowning just now. Is something bothering you?"
"It’s not exactly a problem—at least, not our problem. But I can’t help feeling disappointed." Yvonne sighed. "This dynasty is terminally ill. It’s beyond saving."
Joan didn’t press further. She just listened quietly as Yvonne spoke.
"We’ve traveled from Tianshan to the Western Regions, then to Sichuan. We followed the Yangtze downstream, passed through Xiangyang, headed north to Henan’s Song Mountain, detoured to Zhongnan Mountain, and circled back to Xiangyang. After Yunnan, we journeyed east along the Pearl River and down the South China Sea. You know, reading ten thousand books is nothing compared to traveling ten thousand miles. We’ve seen so much along the way."
Home, country, world.
Politics, religion, martial arts.
Officials, civilians, bandits.
Joan didn’t hesitate: "If someone in that position acts like that, they deserve harsh punishment. Embezzling disaster relief is a serious crime—off with his head, no delay."
Everywhere we went, there was something new to see. Every place brought fresh insights.
Joan frowned: "If that’s the case... well, that’s a problem. I get it now—this is the kind of view you’ve been getting from those imperial reports lately, huh?"
Simone pointed to a spot just behind the third dragon pillar on the right: "Right there, just days ago, that’s where ‘Master Huang’ stood. Not the highest, not the lowest, but a big deal in this dynasty. A few days ago, a Censor accused him of embezzling disaster relief funds and taking bribes. If you were the emperor, what would you do with him?"
Jill didn’t hesitate: "If someone in that position acts like that, they deserve harsh punishment. Embezzling disaster relief is a serious crime—off with his head, no delay."
"But what if the evidence isn’t solid? Or what if the Censor’s evidence is actually made up?"
Yvonne looked at Joan, her expression firm: "There’s only one thing I see here—the target I want to destroy. Not just people, not just events, but ideas and the very core of it all."
"That’s just one example. What I’ve seen is way uglier." Simone took a deep breath, pointing to the cluster of officials below, her eyes sharpening: "None of these people can be trusted, no matter what they say. Smoke and mirrors, distractions, sacrificing pawns for the king—layer after layer of ancient wisdom stacked on the court, until the view from this dragon throne is nothing but a complete illusion."
Victory at the border—one thousand enemies killed. But were those really enemy soldiers, or just ordinary herders and civilians used to pad the numbers?
Border payroll—ten thousand armored soldiers. Are there really ten thousand? Or did the generals just make up the numbers to pocket the money?
Yvonne clapped Joan on the shoulder: "So, Joan, our dream’s gonna have to wait a little longer. You’ll need to be patient for a while yet."
Joan stared at Yvonne’s profile, then gently leaned in—she really needed a strong shoulder right now. She nestled her head on Yvonne’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and asked softly, "Do you think reincarnation is real?"
These are just tiny pieces of the puzzle—there are way more problems everywhere. And the thing is," Simone clenched her fist, "the emperor knows none of it."
All he sees is the palace scenery. All he hears is the advice, gossip, and pillow talk of his officials, servants, and concubines. He never hears the truth or sees what’s real—he’s trapped in a web of lies. And honestly, even if I went full ‘heads will roll’ mode, it wouldn’t do much to tear that web apart.
Simone pointed at the ranks of officials: "None of them are clean. None of them are innocent. Every one of them is a master of scheming—if you’re not, you don’t survive here."
Right now, Old Zhao might be having a rough time, but it’s way easier than being a proper emperor. His harem barely has any tangled factions, so there’s no overgrown power blocks spilling into the court. If you throw harem drama into the mix, this mess would be unspeakable.
Just then, the Stormstones both women wore began to hum in unison. A strange message flashed into the minds of everyone carrying a Stormstone. Yvonne knew—the time for the second Doom Marker to appear was getting close.
With enemies at the gate, you’d think the harem ladies would just chill—but nope, not a chance. Today alone, I got showered with gifts and watched a bunch of people scramble to become the emperor’s pig feed. Their scheming faces? Indescribable!
Oh, and don’t forget the self-proclaimed literary geniuses sneaking in poems by every backdoor. Yes, you heard right—they want to get noticed by the emperor by sending poetry! Just look at that garbage—so-called masterpieces, patriotic odes, total nonsense!
Somehow, it’s become ‘obvious’ that anyone with literary talent is automatically fit to be a magistrate. But do these guys know how to gather evidence and deliver justice? Do they know how to boost productivity or keep the people healthy? Can they organize defenses and keep the peace? Nope. All they know is how to sigh at the moon and wax poetic. Year after year of imperial exams, and all we get is a bunch of bards!
It’s endless—too much to even talk about." Yvonne shook her head again and again, not even sure where to start.
Joan listened quietly, then finally spoke: "So, standing at the top of this dynasty, what do you actually see?"
"I had this little hope, you know? Maybe I could change the world through the emperor, maybe flip everything from the top down and make our dream come true ahead of schedule. Didn’t matter what the country was called or who sat on the throne—if I liked them, I’d be happy. But now I get it: it’s impossible."
A fake peace, with no hope of change.
A rigid system that has to be smashed before anything new can grow.
Yvonne looked at Joan, her expression firm: "There’s only one thing I see here—the target I want to destroy. Not just people, not just events, but ideas and the very core of it all."
If a leader and their followers can’t trust each other, there’s no dignity. If a husband and wife can’t even manage basic love, there’s no beauty. This palace? Just a fancy dumpster.
Looking down from the top of this dynasty, all that comes rushing at you is pure nausea.
So forget about patching things up—I want a total overhaul.
Yvonne clapped Joan on the shoulder: "So, Joan, our dream’s gonna have to wait a little longer. You’ll need to be patient for a while yet."
Joan stared at Yvonne’s profile, then gently leaned in—she really needed a strong shoulder right now. She nestled her head on Yvonne’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and asked softly, "Do you think reincarnation is real?"
Jill stared at Simone’s profile, then gently leaned in—she really needed a strong shoulder right now. She nestled her head on Simone’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and asked softly, "Do you think reincarnation is real?"
"I don’t know." Simone thought of the lingering will of the Golden Wheel, of the little kid, of all those stories about reincarnated souls. When the kid showed up, it really shook her. But all those thoughts rose and fell, and in the end, only one stubborn certainty remained: "I only fight for this life."
"Sigh..." Jill let out a soft breath, then sat up straight and gave Simone a confident, resilient smile: "Right. No waiting for the next life—let’s make this one count."
A fleeting century—no one lives forever.
It’s fine to die—as long as you have no regrets.
Just then, the Stormstones both women wore began to hum in unison. A strange message flashed into the minds of everyone carrying a Stormstone. Yvonne knew—the time for the second Doom Marker to appear was getting close.