As night fell, the capital should have long been under curfew with all gates locked. Yet the West Garden, several li from the palace walls, had its towering gates opened layer by layer. A man riding a massive black horse galloped through until he finally halted at Zhaohua Yuan in the western part of the West Garden.
“Starting tomorrow, deny all audiences! Let them kneel outside the West Garden gates for me!”
Seeing his fury, the palace guards had already prostrated themselves on the ground, not daring to even breathe heavily.
“Worthless! Worthless! Worthless!”
After cursing repeatedly, the man still felt unsatisfied. Snatching his gem-encrusted whip, he lashed it against the pillar by the gate:
“A bunch of corrupt officials clinging to their sinecures dare to restrain me?”
Several eunuchs serving in Zhaohua Yuan rushed out in haste. Witnessing the scene, they could only hold their breath and pretend to be mere insects or fallen leaves within the palace grounds.
A young eunuch glanced around, then knelt and shuffled forward two steps, speaking gently: “Your Majesty, please prioritize your Dragon Body above all. They are just pedantic scholars wielding brushes—why should someone of your priceless stature stir up such anger over them?”
Crack. The man addressed as “Your Majesty” whipped the ground, then turned to look at the young eunuch.
The eunuch lay prostrate, not daring to move.
The man laughed. He was exceptionally handsome, with strikingly bright features, though a shadow of ruthlessness and severity lingered between his brows, making it difficult to meet his gaze. He was the current emperor, who had ascended the throne six years ago—Zhaode Emperor Zhao Su Rui.
After coldly observing the young eunuch for a moment, he asked:
“Gao Huaiming, you call my civil and military officials pedantic scholars. Then what are you?”
His tone was calm, yet it felt like a blade chilled by the autumn wind, piercing to the very core of one’s being.
The young eunuch named Gao Huaiming trembled with fear but still managed a smile as he replied:
“This slave is Your Majesty’s cat or dog, here solely to amuse you.”
“A cat or dog? You think you’re worthy?”
The young emperor cursed under his breath, though the murderous intent in his expression softened slightly. With a wave of his hand, he said:
“One-Chicken and Two-Dog, those useless ones, have fallen behind. You, come and attend to me first.”
“Yes, yes!”
Struggling to pry his knees off the ground, Gao Huaiming rose and hurried after the emperor with small, quick steps into the main hall.
Entering the main hall, Emperor Zhaode casually tossed his whip into a corner. The whip’s handle, inlaid with a crimson gem the size of an inch, clattered against the stone-tiled floor, yet no one dared to show any concern.
Reclining on a soft couch and watching the eunuch remove his boots, Emperor Zhaode still felt a lingering gloom in his heart.
He had ascended the throne at fifteen, led a personal expedition against the Duqin tribe in the northern deserts at eighteen, and subjugated the Duerben tribe in the western deserts at twenty-one, returning in great triumph each time. In terms of military achievements alone, though he could not compare to the empire-founding Taizu and Chengzu, he had certainly accomplished enough to shine through later generations and sweep away the decadence that had plagued the Great Yong dynasty for generations. And yet? Those censors repeatedly used ancestral laws and family rules to accuse him of being improper and undignified. This year, with the Jianghuai region celebrating a bountiful harvest and granaries overflowing, he proposed allocating a mere hundred thousand taels of silver to renovate the West Garden. Yet those censors acted as if their ancestral graves were being desecrated!
He, Zhao Su Rui, was only spending a trivial amount of money—how did that make him a tyrant like Jie or Zhou?
Those censors even competed with one another, their criticisms growing ever more fluent and their memorials ever longer. The court was nearly turning into a stage for their performances!
Fingering the small seal hanging at his waist, Zhao Su Rui hardened his resolve. In a couple of years, once he had pacified the western and northern deserts, he would surely throw those pedantic scholars into digging canals and planting trees!
Noticing the young eunuch named Gao Huaiming kneeling on the ground to massage his legs, he lowered his gaze and said:
“You’re nothing but a cat-and-dog servant, meant to amuse me, yet while I’m fuming with rage, you’re utterly useless—worse than cats or dogs.”
Gao Huaiming lowered his head, cautiously glancing toward the hall’s entrance.
He was afraid, but it wasn’t just fear.
The Emperor had arrived in such haste that the several “grandfathers” usually surrounding him had likely been left behind. On normal days, those “grandfathers” encircled His Majesty wherever he went, leaving no opportunity for someone like him to step forward. If he missed this rare chance today, he’d likely spend the rest of his life as a mere cleaning eunuch in the Western Garden.
“This humble servant does have a method to punish those pedantic scholars for Your Majesty.”
The hand holding the small seal paused. Zhao Su Rui looked down at the top of Gao Huaiming’s head:
“Speak.”
“Your Majesty, this humble servant has been sweeping Zhaohua Yuan for years. I’ve tapped every brick outside one by one. There are a few that make no sound no matter how you strike them. When those censors arrive tomorrow, I’ll lead them to stand on those silent bricks. Your Majesty need only deliver your reprimand—if their kowtows produce no sound against the bricks, it would demonstrate disrespect toward Your Majesty. Once I’ve caught them in this fault, how would they dare chatter impertinently before you?”
“Not a bad scheme. Quite sufficient to disgust those censors.”
Zhao Su Rui nodded, appearing genuinely tempted by the idea.
Yet Gao Huaiming’s heart hammered like a war drum, instinctively sensing he’d spoken wrongly. He prostrated himself on the floor, kowtowing repeatedly toward the imperial couch:
“Your Majesty, this humble servant only wished to ease your distress…”
“I know.” Zhao Su Rui straightened his posture, his lowered gaze returning to the small seal in his hand.
Four characters were engraved upon it: “A gentleman is not a tool.”
Outside the hall, several eunuchs scrambled to the entrance, panting like dying dogs.
Zhao Su Rui lifted his eyes to them:
“You chickens, dogs, cats, and rats are far too slow. Without your roots, can you not even sit properly on horseback?”
The chief eunuchs serving the Zhaode Emperor bore peculiar names—the so-called “One Chicken, Two Dog, Three Cat, Four Rat”—which were precisely the names of these four head eunuchs.
The four knelt with their retinues of lesser eunuchs before the hall entrance, not daring to speak.
Zhao Su Rui rose from his couch:
“Enough posturing. Drag this Gao Huaiming out. Take men to Zhidian Jian and detain all palace gatekeepers and cleaning eunuchs for interrogation. By tomorrow morning, I want to know which other castrated slaves dared play tricks with floor tiles to manipulate court officials.”
Under the Emperor’s wrath, hundreds of eunuchs would face calamity in mere moments. Deathly silence fell over Zhaohua Yuan.
The uneven breathing of the chicken, dog, cat, and rat immediately smoothed, though they’d nearly suffocated themselves with panic.
Zhao Su Rui stepped past them toward the memorials they’d escorted.
“What? Have you castrated slaves grown too feeble to even make arrests?”
One Chicken hastily rose with a bent waist. Seeing the ambitious young eunuch inside frozen in terror, he waved his hand, signaling trusted subordinates to enter, gag the man, and drag him away.
He shot a glance at Four Rat, who also stood and silently led men away to make arrests and conduct interrogations.
Before Gao Huaiming could beg for mercy, he was kicked to the ground, his own fist shoved into his mouth as he was violently dragged out. Passing the hall entrance, he heard His Majesty declare:
“All who are found guilty shall be thrown to Tiger and Leopard Yard as fodder.”
Learning his fate, Gao Huaiming’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets, yet he remained powerless to struggle.
Having finally killed someone, the gloom between Zhao Su Rui’s brows dissipated considerably. Seeing Three-Cat still following him with an ingratiating smile, he kicked the eunuch squarely in the rear:
“Go fetch me something to eat. Those censors infuriate me, and Guanglu Si doesn’t even bother sending up edible offerings.”
“Your Majesty rest assured, Three-Cat will definitely satisfy Your Majesty’s appetite!” The chief eunuch called Three-Cat scurried away with hurried steps, his buttocks bearing the imperial boot print yet his face beaming. Their emperor had kicked his rear – this meant His Majesty’s spirits were rising again!
A faint smile also appeared on Emperor Zhaode’s face. With renewed interest, he picked up a memorial and began reading by the courtyard lantern light.
“Bumper harvest.”
“Victory report.”
After flipping through several, his mood improved further: “The realm enjoys peace, all lands abound with plenty. In such prosperous times, what more could those censors possibly discontent with?”
Gathering a few more memorials, he walked back into the hall where Two-Dog and Three-Cat had already directed servants to tidy everything, standing attentively at respectful attention.
Distant screams echoed, yet Zhao Su Rui simply smiled and took a sip of tea.
The next moment, the teacup shattered into pieces in his grip.
“Reduce taxes, disband troops, and let the people recuperate? He wants to negotiate peace with those western barbarians? I single-handedly revived the dynasty, victorious in countless battles, yet in his eyes I’ve become a villain extorting the people?! How dare he speak such nonsense!”
“Your Majesty! Your hand!”
Several chief eunuchs startled forward, only to see Emperor Zhaode’s hand already bleeding from ceramic shards.
Zhao Su Rui paid it no mind, casually flicking blood from his hand as he thundered:
“The Grand Secretariat dares present such memorials before me? That Chen Shouzhang! Send guards to arrest him immediately!”
…
Infuriated by a mere assistant prefect’s memorial from Dengzhou, Zhao Su Rui refused to review any more petitions. Even after his hand was bandaged and eunuchs brought peacocks and crested ibises from southern tributes to amuse him, he remained listless. The persistent dull pain in his hand only aggravated his irritation.
His dreams brought no peace either – one moment dreaming of overwhelming floods, the next of blood-red sunsets, then of a figure in white robes riding into the palace to announce mourning.
Faint weeping sounds grated on his ears, disturbing his rest.
“Why weep? I’m not dead yet!”
Opening his eyes, he saw light blue bed curtains and a fair-faced woman with red-rimmed eyes watching him.
Zhao Su Rui frowned. How had those four useless servants – Chicken, Dog, Cat, and Rat – allowed another scheming woman near his imperial bed?
Groping beside his pillow, he found only soft silk instead of the ever-present whip.
“Young mistress! You’re finally awake!”
The weeping woman moved to support him, muttering incomprehensible nonsense. Zhao Su Rui quickly evaded her, yet sensed something amiss.
It wasn’t just somewhat amiss.
Everything was wrong.
Zhao Su Rui looked at his hands.
How had these hands that could control warhorses, wield whips, and personally hold blades against enemies become so small? With slender fingers, pale backs, and clearly visible blue veins.
These were unmistakably the hands of a delicate woman!
“You…”
Zhao Su Rui covered his mouth.
What was wrong with his voice?
Clamping his legs together, the mighty Emperor Zhaode nearly leaped from the bed.
What in heaven’s name had happened to his entire body?!
A Chi watched her young mistress’s panicked state, her heart aching as if shattered. Her young mistress, covered in blood, had collapsed in the Buddhist hall—how much grievance had she endured, how much suffering had she borne!
“Young mistress! Don’t panic! Tu Nan took your letter to plead with Madam Liu, and Madam Liu sent a physician. Pei Feng is guarding the door. Those maidservants who plotted against their master have already been captured by Pei Feng and the guards.”
Who is Tu Nan?
Who is Pei Feng?
What Madam Liu?
Zhao Su Rui felt as if he were trapped in a chaotic dream. He looked past A Chi toward a nearby table, where a bronze mirror clearly reflected his appearance—no, her appearance.
A frightened, fragile, and pale woman who seemed easy to bully.
He snatched a beaded hairpin from the maid’s hair and pressed it against the pulse at her neck:
“Where is this place? Who are you? And I… who am I?”