The Beginning of Turmoil

Deep in the night at the hour of the rabbit, along the central axis spanning the massive expanse of Di'an City, a solitary carriage sped through the rainy night. The imperial road upon which it traveled ran dozens of feet above the ground, straight and unbroken all the way to the Palace City atop the mountain peak. Night hung low over Di'an City, cloaking myriad household lamps like spilled ink. Autumn rain tapped gently against the window drapes, while flecks of lamplight scattered along the road. Fragrant incense smoke drifted in thin curls. Sitting alone in the lavish cabin, the man had his long hair tied with meticulous care, silently casting a sidelong glance at the scene outside the window. The sprawling metropolis of Di'an had largely slipped into slumber, save for the sleepless entertainment quarters where lanterns still bathed in the pouring rain, lost in wanton revelry. The man watched the distant splendor in silence, watching the hysteria hidden beneath the veneer of peaceful singing and dancing. Subconsciously, he drew back his gaze, frowning deeply as he looked at the low table before him. There lay an imperial memorial. Across the vermilion cover of the letter paper, sweeping calligraphy written in fresh ink heralded a monumental upheaval: "The Law of Immortal Taxes..." "......" Xu Yuan stared at the memorial he had penned with his own hand, silent for a long time. The carriage rushed forward, hooves splashing through puddles, as incense reserved for the imperial house refreshed the senses. He had experienced war and witnessed death. Yet everything he had seen and heard along his journey did not amount to even a tiny fraction of what this single document contained. As he was lost in thought, a rustling whisper softly reached his ears. Looking back, he saw a wisp of invisible mist. It seeped through the cracks and quickly coalesced into form. A woman draped in a white fur vest came into view. Her eyebrows were like distant verdant peaks, her eyes seductive as autumn waters, and a form-fitting, magnificent purple qipao traced her enchanting curves. Glancing at the soft, fair cleavage exposed at Lou Ji's chest, Xu Yuan looked away. At times, he really could not understand this older sister's wardrobe. She dressed so seductively and alluringly at all hours. To please others? Highly unlikely. Her station as the Chief of the Black Scales left barely anyone who even dared look at her. And if not to please others, it could only be to please herself. She likely enjoyed the twisted, morbid thrill of having people burn to look yet not dare. His thoughts wandering, Xu Yuan casually asked, "How do you have time to drop by at a critical juncture like this?" "Can't I come check on you?" Dropping down beside Xu Yuan, Lou Ji lazily crossed her legs. The slit hem of her qipao shifted slightly, offering a glimpse of her fair, shapely thighs, and her curved eyes smiled as she asked, "How does attending morning court for the first time feel? You looked a little nervous just now." Xu Yuan raised an eyebrow, amused. "Nervous? Father and the others have already left the capital. Right now, I'm the biggest authority in all of Di'an City. Why would I be nervous?" Lou Ji could barely contain her amusement on her flawless, seductive face. "...The biggest authority. You brat truly observe no rules at all and couldn't care less about the imperial clan. Well, you're not wrong, but..." Here, Lou Ji paused. Leaning slightly forward so that her soft chest pressed against her thighs, she reached out to pick up the vermilion paper on the low table, unfolded it, lowered her gaze to scan it closely, and said faintly, "...Changtian, I mean this policy of the Law of Immortal Taxes. Are you truly prepared for it?" "......" Watching the memorial in Lou Ji's hands, Xu Yuan suddenly fell silent. He had once thought himself ready long ago, capable of facing whatever lay ahead with absolute cold-blooded resolve. Yet when the hilt of this war blade was truly placed in his hands, he grew apprehensive instead. Xu Yuan silently reached out to take the document back, turned his gaze out the window, and murmured, "Yeah, a little... nervous, I suppose. But someone has to do it." War was a means, not an end. The shadow of war would soon engulf the entire Great Yan Dynasty because over the past several decades, all political and economic means had been exhausted. Lou Ji narrowed her eyes as she watched the side of the young man's face, gently advising, "For dirty work like this, you don't necessarily have to do it with your own hands. The Duke of Su, Marquis Zhenxi, or even those few Ministers carry more than enough weight. If worse comes to worst, waiting for your father to return is also an option." Xu Yuan shot her a sidelong glance. "Burying our heads in the sand accomplishes nothing." Lou Ji was entirely unfazed, remaining earnest. "At least it leaves one's conscience at peace." With that, the woman leaned back lazily against the cushioned divan. Looking at the wooden cabin carved with dragons and phoenixes, she said softly, "In my life, I have killed many, many people. Those who died by my hand directly or indirectly are easily well into six figures, yet compared to the letter in your hand, all of them together are still like an ant looking up at the moon." The wind of the rainy night blew in through the window lattice, stirring their long hair. Xu Yuan suddenly curled his eyes into a smile. "Sis, you're not usually one for sentimental hypocrisy. Why the sudden urge to have it both ways?" "......" Lou Ji frowned slightly. Xu Yuan reached out and pressed down gently on her boneless shoulder. He naturally knew what Lou Ji was trying to do. Even at this most critical juncture, this sister—no, the elders of the Prime Minister's Manor—were still trying to relieve his burden. But... With that thought, Xu Yuan flicked the document with his fingertip and smiled. "Wanting me to take another step forward, yet not wanting me to shoulder the corresponding responsibility—since when does anyone in this world get to hoard all the good things for themselves?" "......" Lou Ji lowered her eyelids slightly. Across the thousand-year history of Great Yan, through countless wise rulers and celebrated ministers, the terrifying weight that none of them had dared touch was now carried entirely by the thin vermilion paper in Xu Yuan's hands. In the foreseeable future, countless families would be shattered because of it, countless people would perish in sickness and suffering, and all life would be rendered as cheap as roadside weeds. This was a boundary line facing the dawn while turning its back to the abyss. It represented fire, it represented death, and it represented an age of chaos where rites and music crumbled. In their original plans, Xu Yinhe, as the master of the Prime Minister's Manor, was supposed to ignite the beginnings of all this chaos and shoulder the responsibility for the fall of hundreds of millions of living souls. That was why Lou Ji could not understand why Xu Yuan insisted on this. For meritorious achievement? Or to establish his own authority? Lou Ji could not see the reason, yet she could vaguely sense his intent, and she said softly, "Actually, rather than shouldering everything alone, Changtian, you can rely a bit more on us old folks. Your father is also stronger than you think." "I know." Xu Yuan smiled faintly, his eyelids dropping slightly. Memories of Cangyuan from his past life flowed through his mind like water, finally freezing on the images of the Prime Minister's Manor's collapse. "...Yet the ones he faces are just as formidable." Speaking in a low voice, Xu Yuan gently slipped the vermilion-jacketed document into his inner lapel. Looking toward the towering Palace City drawing ever nearer, he said in a slow, steady voice: "Sis, what I am doing now is nothing more than the duty of my station. "In my station, I attend to its affairs. "Taking its benefits, I bear its burdens. "If I cannot even manage that, I might as well follow Li Junqing's example and find myself a way out beforehand." After a long silence, Lou Ji departed. Before leaving, she did not forget to ruffle Xu Yuan's meticulously bound hair into a bird's nest. It was a bit of Lou Ji's wicked humor, but equally a sign of her helplessness. When matters reached this stage, when the situation escalated to the level of the entire dynasty, she could no longer shield the path chosen by this rascal as she once had. Reflecting faintly on this, Xu Yuan looked through the window at the approaching mountain peak and the jade towers and palaces veiled in the rainy night, unconsciously letting out a soft sigh. When the carriage arrived before the gates of the imperial palace, heavy golden-armored troops of the Imperial Guard were already lined up outside the city gate, standing motionless in the rain, solemn and imposing. Xu Yuan had no official degrees or examination merits, only a title of viscount bestowed by the Emperor at his birth. Theoretically, he had no right to enter the imperial palace alone. Today, however, he rode in an imperial carriage, entering court by special dispensation under the pretext of receiving an enfeoffment. Thus, before the carriage had even drawn fully near, the towering, heavy palace gates slowly swung open. The carriage passed between the two ranks of the Imperial Guard, the rumbling of its wheels echoing down the long gate tunnel. The light inside the tunnel was exceedingly dim. While tying up his hair, Xu Yuan idly pondered the morning court assembly. He did not know Great Yan's court etiquette well. These past few days, he had been exceedingly busy—busy absorbing all sorts of intelligence under the Prime Minister's Manor, busy perfecting his own cultivation method, and busy tracking down that kid Li Junqing. As for books on court etiquette, he had only skimmed them briefly before departing. It somewhat resembled the Ming dynasty court etiquette from his previous life. Not that it mattered now anyway, because the moment the carriage exited the tunnel, Xu Yuan saw a vast, dense crowd waiting silently in the rain before the Meridian Gate of the barbican, dressed in official robes of various colors. If one went by Great Yan's ritual laws, every last one of them deserved a flogging. The time to enter court was set at the hour of the rabbit, yet it was already three quarters past the hour. For them to remain standing there was already an open contempt of imperial authority. Runic lamps flickered faintly beneath the gloomy, rainy sky. The carriage came to a halt before the Meridian Gate, and save for the patter of autumn rain, no other sound could be heard. *Creak...* The carriage door swung open. A pair of boots stepped out into the rain, and a young man clad in the court robes of a viscount appeared before everyone's eyes. Attending court for the first time, Xu Yuan had dutifully put on this designated court attire. Using Source Qi to shield himself from the rain, Xu Yuan stood on the carriage threshold and swept his gaze over his surroundings. Seeing the faces he had already committed to memory from the internal reports, he suddenly realized that the blame for these officials defying imperial authority ought to be pinned squarely on his own head. All of these men belonged to the Chancellor's faction. Word had already been put out three days in advance. If he did not arrive, naturally not a single member of the Chancellor's faction dared overstep and enter first. Truly, taking sides left no room for minor missteps... Amidst the silence of the assembled ministers, Xu Yuan let out a soft chuckle and walked across the puddles. Yet as he passed the tightly shut Meridian Gate, he suddenly paused in his tracks. He raised his gaze toward the gatekeeping eunuch atop the palace wall, his clear, nonchalant voice carrying through the curtain of rain before the gate: "Eunuch, as a legitimate son of the Xu family, which gate should I take?" "......" The moment their eyes met, the gatekeeping eunuch immediately answered, "According to the ritual laws of Great Yan, Viscount Xu, you should follow the civil officials through the left—" Before the words finished, the eunuch's pupils contracted sharply. Without waiting for him to finish, the Third Young Master of the Xu family strode directly toward the central Meridian Gate, which was meant solely for the Emperor. *Step.* *Step.* As Xu Yuan advanced, a trembling resonance like the low roar of a colossal beast echoed from beneath the Meridian Gate. *Rumble—* Amidst the trembling, the heavy palace gate was pushed open a crack. Through that opening, Xu Yuan caught sight of the Golden Throne Hall atop the layers upon layers of towering palace complexes. Behind him, the officials of the Chancellor's faction witnessed the spectacle. Some began to sweat profusely, while others showed feverish excitement in their eyes. Yet after forcing open that single gap, Xu Yuan made no further moves to overstep propriety. He sensed a prying gaze, cast from the depths of the imperial palace down upon the ground before the Meridian Gate. According to the Prime Minister's Manor internal reports, the imperial clan possessed four Saints in total. Three humans and one beast. The beast was unknown, but the humans had left their traces. Emperor Li Yaoxuan, Marquis Wucheng Mu Zhenbei, and the Director of the Imperial Clan. That gaze just now must have come from the Lord Director. Very little was recorded about this Director of the Imperial Clan in the manor's internal reports, so little that they only knew such a person existed among the imperial clan's Grandmasters. He was essentially a reclusive old monster among the imperial ancestors. The mysterious sort who would never take action unless the clan faced annihilation. Unfortunately for him, Xu Yuan's spiritual vision was an entirely unreasonable thing. Though the contact lasted only an instant, he had already grasped the rough extent of the Director's cultivation. Mysterious, but his might did not exceed expectations. This era held far too many brilliant rising talents and far too many old monsters hidden for millennia; it was inevitable that the imperial clan Director's true caliber would be somewhat diminished. Silently noting this information, Xu Yuan turned and walked toward the Left Flank Gate, keeping his eyes lowered as he headed deep into the palace. Along the way, Xu Yuan committed no further breaches of protocol, patiently following the officials of the Chancellor's faction northward. After a series of tedious ceremonial formalities, the magnificent, majestic Fengtian Hall finally entered their sight. At five quarters past the hour of the rabbit, the autumn rain had begun to cease, though overcast clouds still lingered in the sky. The guards' golden armor looked dark and imposing, and the civil and military officials stood quietly below the imperial steps before the hall. The rites of assembling into ranks for court should have concluded long ago. Yet the officials on duty today from the Court of State Ceremonial, the Censor-in-Chief, and the musicians of the Bell and Drum Office all belonged to the Chancellor's faction. If they did not chant the assembly rites and the Censor-in-Chief did not enforce supervisory duties, then unless the Prince Regent spoke, the assembled officials had no choice but to wait before the hall. Xu Yuan smiled faintly. He did not know why Li Yucheng had changed his mind, nor did he know what deeper meaning Li Yucheng had in this move. He only knew that for now, the imperial house and the Prime Minister's Manor did not need to draw swords against each other. As the later-arriving senior ministers joined the ranks, the assembly rites finally began. The process was not particularly long, yet the attention of every senior minister present rested upon that young man. They wanted to see what choice the legitimate son of the Xu family would make. They wanted to see whether he, like his chancellor father, would step onto the imperial central walkway. Yet unexpectedly, Xu Yuan simply stood quietly at the very end of the civil officials, ascending alongside them. Surprise, confusion, relief, reassurance. All kinds of expressions revealed the thoughts of the ministers. As the crowd stepped into the great Fengtian Hall, waiting in silence for the Palace Overseer to chant the ceremonial words— *Tap.* A soft footstep landed on everyone's heart. Shifting one step out from the end of the civil official ranks, Xu Yuan strode to the center of the grand hall beneath the stunned gazes of the senior ministers. At this moment, Xu Yuan felt his heart begin to race uncontrollably. He reached into his robe, feeling gently inside. The moment his fingers brushed the paper document within his breast, his fingertips trembled faintly despite himself. At this instant, a vision seemed to arise before Xu Yuan's eyes, as if he were seeing the future of this dynasty. Prosperous lanterns transformed into raging flames, bright light turned into a soaring sea of blood, orderly city streets collapsed into scarred ruins, nights were no longer quiet, frantic beacon fires billowed from every corner, and wailing survivors filled the land... These visions were like a man-devouring abyss. Yet amidst the stillness, he maintained a calm countenance as he drew the vermilion-jacketed paper from his inner lapel. The sunlight of a new day spilled through the clouds. With his back to the first ray of morning light breaking into the palace, he presented the Great Yan imperial court's declaration of war against the sects. "This minister has a matter to memorialize."