Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

Sleeping in a communal bunk was still better than losing one’s head.

Some officials, certain that they had committed no crimes, let out a sigh of relief.

It was fine, it was fine. They just had to wait for Little Bai Ze to root out the guilty ones. Maybe they wouldn’t even have to stay the full three to five—wait a minute, where was Little Bai Ze? Why had he been silent this whole time?!

The more perceptive officials immediately turned to check on Little Bai Ze’s situation.

And what they saw was the man casually lying face-down on the desk, hands folded, head buried in his arms—a posture so relaxed and secure that he clearly didn’t think playing dead would damage his image in the slightest.

The officials: “?!”

No wonder they hadn’t heard Xu Yanmiao’s thoughts—so he planned to just hunker down and do nothing?!

Wait—

If he was hunkering down, what were they supposed to do? Were they really going to be stuck sleeping in this communal bunk for three to five months?!

The officials looked in horror at the not-so-large hall, imagining a future where desks were shoved together to serve as makeshift beds. Where every trip to the chamber pot would echo loudly for all their colleagues to hear. Where anyone whose business smelled particularly foul would be subjected to indescribable gazes from their peers.

In short, wasn’t this pure suffering?!

If they weren’t afraid of exposing themselves, they would have already been begging and pleading for Xu Yanmiao to hurry up and investigate who among them had committed serious crimes—so they could get judged and sent away as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, the Vice Commander of the Central Military Office, who had just dragged the bruised and battered former Assistant Minister Yu back, looked at the pale walls of the hall, at the tree branches swaying against the paper windows, and at Xu Yanmiao playing dead, and felt an endless sense of despair.

Because—

“Your Majesty!” The Vice Commander of the Central Military Office cried out indignantly, “I need to take a sh*t!”

—Yes, a crude man was simply that crude.

The Vice Commander of the Forward Military Office, sitting beside him, silently shifted away.

The old emperor, equally as crude, took it in stride and generously said, “Take the spittoon and go behind the screen.”

The stench filled the ministers’ noses, bringing tears to their eyes. Your Majesty, could you show some mercy? Does it really have to be this harsh? How are we supposed to eat and sleep after this?

The old emperor remained expressionless. Endure it.

If the emperor could endure it, why couldn’t they?

The delicate and pampered Xu Lang finally abandoned his “playing dead” act.

[Who just said they needed to go number two? It smells so bad…]

Now, it was the Vice Commander of the Central Military Office’s turn to play dead.

Xu Yanmiao suddenly thought of something.

[Come to think of it, did the old emperor even prepare chamber pots with seats for the officials?]

—In ancient times, there were seat-like chamber pots with a hole in the middle, where the spittoon would be placed underneath.

—Though, most people didn’t need them since they could sit directly on the spittoon. But for those accustomed to luxury, sitting directly on it might pose a psychological hurdle. That’s how chamber pot seats came about.

Xu Yanmiao rummaged around mentally, his face turning horrified.

[There really aren’t any… So does that mean anyone who needs to take a dump but is afraid of splashing has to squat in a horse stance?!]

[Back straight, upper body as stiff as an iron board, legs spread apart, hovering in that half-squat position? The kind that makes your legs sore and numb after just a dozen breaths if you’re not trained?!]

[Isn’t this a bit too cruel?!]

[And if they accidentally go outside the spittoon… who’s cleaning it up?!]

[Also, even if they don’t have a cleanliness obsession, if they sit on it… what if their butt is too big, and when they stand up, the spittoon sticks to them? Would they have to call a colleague to come pull it off?!]

[Oh, and if their legs go numb from squatting too long, does that mean…]

As he thought about it, Xu Yanmiao unconsciously moved his hands up and down in a mimicking motion.

[Poop for a bit, stand for a bit, poop for a bit, stand for a bit…]

Hearing his thoughts, those who hadn’t considered these issues before started panicking too.

—No way!!!

If a spittoon got stuck to their butt and they had to call a colleague for help, they’d never be able to show their face again!

And if they accidentally peed outside, or worse, didn’t catch their business in time, and the spittoon fell from their butt…

The Vice Minister of the Imperial Ancestral Temple stared blankly. “Your Majesty, about the indoor cleaning arrangements…”

The emperor smiled slightly. “What do you think?”

The Vice Minister: “……”

Everyone else: “……”

Alright, they got the message—take care of your own mess.

Now that Xu Lang had “awakened,” his thoughts became lively again.

He fretted, [Does this count as a Heavenly Order Battle Royale? This is kind of terrifying… I won’t get dragged into it, right?]

The old emperor paused for a moment.

He had assumed this little brat was so carefree that he was detached from worldly troubles. Turns out, he could be afraid too?

Did he move too suddenly and scare—

[Hehe! No way I’ll get dragged into this. The Jinyiwei are so capable, they’ll definitely see that I haven’t done anything wrong. I may be an official, but I’m a law-abiding citizen!]

[So what’s there to worry about? Time to lie flat! Woohoo! I’ll just treat this like a few months in a dormitory!]

The old emperor: “……”

The capital officials: “……”

They really worried for nothing.

[Might as well dig up some gossip to pass the time! Let’s go, let’s go!]

The old emperor: “……”

The capital officials: “……”

Maybe they should start worrying about themselves instead.

---

Xu Yanmiao focused on Su Ziguang, the first person the old emperor had dragged out, and began rifling through his thoughts.

[Oh-ho, this guy seems like an honest official. He eats coarse cornbread and drinks vegetable soup—pretty frugal. He should be able to escape this Battle Royale, right?]

[Su Ziguang… that’s a rather elegant name. Sounds nice.]

[Wow! He carries over twenty white handkerchiefs with him at all times, lending them to people in need. No wonder he’s earned the nickname “Timely Rain.”]

The Vice Commander of the Central Military Office exited the latrine and, in passing, handed the spittoon to a Jinyiwei outside through the window. After stepping out, he glanced at Su Ziguang several times and muttered in shock, “Well, damn…”

Could it really be such a good omen? The very first person chosen turned out to be a good guy?

On a side note—“This Su… Su Langjun, mind lending me a handkerchief to wipe my hands?”

Su Ziguang: “……”

He hesitated for a moment before finally pulling out a white handkerchief. “Of course.”

The Vice Commander reached for it without hesitation, but his first tug didn’t budge the cloth. Only after using more force did he manage to pull it from Su Ziguang’s grasp. To prevent the man from changing his mind, he quickly wetted the handkerchief with tea and wiped his hands, then grinned foolishly. “Thanks. I’ll wash it and return it later.”

Su Ziguang maintained an unconcerned expression, smiling. “No need to return it. When traveling, everyone faces inconveniences. If it could be of help to you, then it has served its purpose well.”

Look at that! What a gentleman!

The Vice Commander immediately beamed. “Oh, you’re too kind…”

[Wait a minute, Su Ziguang—you—]

[Hiss—]

[I take back everything I just said! You actually used commoners’ homes as a flood drainage zone?! You’re worse than a pig or a dog!]

The candlelight reflected in the young man’s pupils, its flames flickering in fury. His dark eyes burned with anger.

Xu Yanmiao was rarely this enraged.

[Su Ziguang! How could you dare?!]

[So your chronic leg pain is more precious than human lives, is that it?!]

[The flood should have been diverted where it always was—Yangzhou’s geography made it the best way to minimize losses and avoid casualties. They did it every year, so even the local officials and residents could handle it with their eyes closed. The prefect tried to reason with you, even compensated you with a better new residence, but you refused to move because you thought the new house was too damp and bad for your legs?!]

[Everyone else evacuated! You were the only one who stayed! That forced the prefect to hastily reinforce the embankments, but there wasn’t enough time! The floodwaters ended up crashing straight into the homes of civilians across the river!]

[25,000 mu of farmland was destroyed, and 573 households were left homeless!]

[Bastard! You absolute bastard!!!]

Liang Rui, sitting beside Xu Yanmiao, suddenly widened his eyes, only hating that he didn’t have a blade in hand right now—otherwise, he’d gladly take over the emperor’s role and personally deal with Su Ziguang.

Beast!

No, calling him a beast was an insult to beasts!

He remembered that after Su Ziguang retired from office, he settled in Yangzhou, Hanzhong Prefecture. The flooding in Yangzhou had indeed been reported to the central court, but no one had told them that beyond the natural disaster, there had also been a man-made catastrophe!

The Vice Commander of the Central Military Office was so shocked by Su Ziguang’s audacity that he hastily shoved the soaked handkerchief back into the man’s hands. “Thanks, but I’ve already finished washing my hands. Here, take this back!”

Su Ziguang’s eyes widened in embarrassment—he could hardly believe it! Someone actually had the nerve to shove a dirty handkerchief back into its owner’s hands right in front of the emperor?!

Before he could fully process his humiliation, he heard the emperor’s voice call out.

“Su Ziguang, come here.”

Su Ziguang hurried forward, still holding the dripping-wet handkerchief, looking as pitiful as if he were being bullied by high-ranking officials.

The emperor said, “Stand there.”

Su Ziguang had no choice but to remain in place, his back prickling under the weight of countless eyes. He felt so uneasy that he wanted to shift his posture, but he didn’t dare to act improperly before the emperor. His entire body was tense, as if ants were crawling all over him.

Then, at a leisurely pace, the emperor ordered someone to bring a small knife and a few branches. He slowly began whittling them down.

[Huh? What’s the old emperor doing?]

Xu Yanmiao, unable to figure it out, simply watched instead of checking the system. He observed as the emperor carefully completed his handiwork, laying several wooden sticks on the table.

Just then, a Jinyiwei entered, carrying a notebook, and handed it to the emperor.

It looked like they had finished investigating Su Ziguang.

Su Ziguang’s heart pounded wildly—he had no idea what fate awaited him.

The emperor had someone bring cinnabar ink and wrote a few characters on the wooden sticks before placing them inside a cylindrical container. The container was well-prepared, even covered with thick cowhide to prevent anyone from fumbling.

Then, flipping through the notebook with exaggerated slowness, the emperor’s expression grew colder and colder.

Finally, the emperor spoke. “Draw a stick.”

Su Ziguang clenched his teeth, stepped forward, and shook the container. A single stick fell out. He looked down at it:

“Exterminate the nine clans.”

His lips instantly turned pale as he bit down hard.

Frantically, he rummaged through the other sticks in the container—there was “Exterminate three clans,” “Exterminate ten clans,” and similar punishments.

A game of chance?! The fate of an entire family decided by a random draw?!

Su Ziguang roared in indignation, “Your Majesty! Why sentence my nine clans to death?! I—”

At that moment, Xu Yanmiao continued checking the system, pulling up all the gossip related to the disaster:

[Ah! Yangzhou has suffered from floods for years, leaving its grain reserves insufficient. The prefect of Yangzhou had to swallow his pride and beg the local powerful families for grain, even promising to repay them double. But the amount of grain he managed to borrow was pitiful.]

[The Zhao family claimed they were too poor and only lent 600 shi of grain. 600 shi! The Zhao family’s carriages alone cost more than that!]

[The Ding family was even stingier, lending only 100 shi. Are they giving handouts to beggars or what?]

[The Zhang family head was the worst—he refused to lend a single grain, putting on a pitiful act, claiming that his household was struggling to put food on the table. He whined about needing to pay wages to his hundreds of servants and maids and support his wife, children, and six concubines. What a load of nonsense! He was colluding with Su Ziguang—Su Ziguang’s 6,000 mu of land remained untouched, and Zhang’s 4,000 mu was also safe. Every night, their lard lamps burned from dusk till dawn. Where’s the suffering? Where’s the food shortage?!]

[They refused to lend grain because they were waiting for more refugees to appear—so they could force them to sell their land, their children, and even themselves into servitude.]

[Isn’t this outright profiting from disaster?!]

The emperor’s gaze turned sharp in an instant, filled with both shock and murderous intent.

Su Ziguang met that gaze and instantly choked on his words. Whether he had planned to plead or defend himself, he suddenly found himself unable to say anything.

Then, the emperor let out a sneering chuckle—mocking someone, though it was unclear who.

He said to Su Ziguang, “In that case, I won’t exterminate your nine clans.”

Su Ziguang’s eyes brightened with relief—only to see the emperor close the empty notebook and calmly add, “Let’s make it ten clans instead.”

Exterminating ten clans meant wiping out not only his own family but also his friends and disciples.

As for who counted as Su Ziguang’s “friends”…

The commander of the Jinyiwei cast a meaningful glance at Su Ziguang’s head.

Most likely, the Zhao, Ding, and Zhang families were all included.

Prime Minister Dou brought over a whetstone and took the skinning knife from the emperor’s hand.

“Ssshhh—”

“Ssshhh—”

“Ssshhh—”

The sharp sound of the blade grinding against the whetstone echoed through the chamber.

The bloodshed was about to begin. The slaves and apothecaries picked up their knives once again.

At that moment, everyone finally understood—His Majesty and the Prime Minister were serious.

—The boys of yesteryear had grown old… but so what?

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