Chapter 89: The New Tyrant
On the fifth day of Song Yilou’s disappearance, the news spread. The court officials were in a panic, terrified that they would see the Songxuan Emperor’s smiling face in their own homes.
Soldiers searching for the Emperor appeared in every street and alley. The entire capital began a “carpet search.”
Amidst this commotion, Yun Wuxiang waited another three days, but Song Yilou still didn’t appear.
Lin Yue carefully observed the person in the main seat. “The Grand Ancestor is a lucky man protected by the heavens. Please do not worry excessively; take care of your imperial health first.”
“I am fine. Just continue the search.” Yun Wuxiang wasn’t actually that worried. Even if Song Yilou played himself to death, he would just be logged out of the Small World.
However, he needed to know what Song Yilou had done and where he had died.
With Song Yilou’s martial arts and poison skills, no one in this Small World could do anything to him. Back then, he had broken into the Yu’an palace, killed the Emperor, and escaped unscathed. Even if he encountered a natural disaster like an earthquake or a landslide, the guy wouldn’t die—he’d just dig a hole and crawl out himself.
What kind of person or event could stall Song Yilou?
Yun Wuxiang: “Has A-jie replied?”
“Not yet. Although General Yun dislikes the Grand Ancestor in every way, his disappearance definitely has nothing to do with her.” Lin Yue was ready to swear to the heavens, terrified that a rift would form between the siblings.
Yun Wuxiang: “I know. A-jie wouldn’t touch my person.”
But he couldn’t guarantee that Song Yilou wouldn’t have some “wicked ideas” about his sister. Although it wouldn’t be anything serious… the result probably wouldn’t be too over-the-top… but the process… it definitely wouldn’t be very pleasant.
He hadn’t actually spent much time with Yun Tianqing after entering, but in those few months, the Demon Phoenix Seal had stirred quite a few times. If Daozun Jiangzi had been here, she might have left some things in this Small World as well.
If a Daozun took action, even with just a tiny fraction of their power, they could pin Song Yilou down.
Aside from that, another possibility was that Song Yilou had found a clue about the Black-and-White Floating Life Flower. Unable to know the follow-up, the final result was that Song Yilou had managed to make himself disappear.
Another half-month passed. The news of the Songxuan Emperor’s disappearance was now known to all. The atmosphere in the court began to shift, and certain officials started becoming active in private.
Finally, today, their activity reached the imperial court.
“There are rumors among the people that the Grand Ancestor has passed. According to Songxuan’s rites, we should prepare the funeral, toll the bells, announce it to the world, and have the whole nation mourn together. Sending his soul to the ancestral mausoleum… Your Majesty’s delay is surely unable to appease the Grand Ancestor’s spirit in heaven,” an old man with white hair said.
Lin Yue had long suspected these fellows would cause trouble. He thought to himself, It’s finally here. He immediately entered the combat state of a civil official and retorted, “The Grand Ancestor’s imperial body has not been found yet. Lord Liu actually dares to curse the Grand Ancestor with death. Perhaps you’ve lived long enough and wish to take your nine generations into the earth with you.”
“A nation cannot go a day without a monarch. Our ancestral teachings state that if a ruler does not attend court for no reason for half a month, it is considered a dereliction of duty. A new monarch should be selected by the Grand Elders to ensure the stability of our borders,” Lord Liu said with an air of selflessness and concern for the nation.
Lin Yue’s expression turned ugly. This old thing was clearly denying Yun Wuxiang’s right to the throne. “Lord Liu must be getting old and senile. To speak such words before the monarch is a slight to the imperial majesty—it is an unpardonable crime.”
“The monarch of Songxuan is naturally surnamed Song. This old subject sees no Song Emperor in this court.” Lord Liu was a staunch supporter of the royal bloodline. No matter how many faults Song Yilou had, as long as his surname was Song, Lord Liu had no complaints about the Emperor.
But Yun Wuxiang was surnamed Yun.
Three years was not long enough for these old Songxuan subjects to change their mindset.
When Song Yilou was present, he wouldn’t let anyone defy Yun Wuxiang. Yun Wuxiang was also someone who was too lazy to spend energy arguing with these people in court; he spent most of his time researching and reproducing various tools.
The long-ignored officials naturally assumed that without the Songxuan Emperor, Yun Wuxiang was just a sickly weakling who wouldn’t live long—a soft persimmon to be squashed.
Once Lord Liu started, more officials began their verbal attacks. One after another, their core goal was only one: to force Yun Wuxiang to abdicate.
Lin Yue was the only one supporting Yun Wuxiang. The others spoke with increasing vigor, and someone even proposed: “According to ancestral teachings, after an Emperor passes, those consorts who have no children should be buried with him.”
These words not only denied Yun Wuxiang’s throne but also defined him as one of Song Yilou’s harem consorts—and even planned to take his life.
Lin Yue was fighting a war of words against the group alone. He was already fuming, and hearing this, he flew into a rage. “You old bas—”
BOOM!
A thunderous roar drowned out every voice in the hall.
The official who had suggested the funeral sacrifice now had a bloody hole in his forehead that let light through. The red and white fluids exploding from the back of his head “washed” the faces of the two lords behind him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of bangs like a funeral knell added a thick scent of blood to the hall.
“Cough, cough, cough. The scent of blood is a bit strong.”
The light, faint voice sounded as if it lacked half a breath compared to a normal person—it lacked health and power. Any official in the hall could have drowned it out with their voice, yet no one spoke a word.
Lin Yue swallowed hard, puffing out his chest to maintain the scene. “Where are the guards? Clean up these people.”
The guards dragged away the officials with holes in their heads and cleaned the blood from the floor. The entire process was conducted in absolute silence, as if there were no living people in the hall.
Yun Wuxiang put down the smoking gun barrel. His arm was numb; the recoil of this thing was still a bit too much. He needed to continue adjusting it.
“My temper is not much better than Song Yilou’s. I am also unlike him; I don’t like to keep people I can’t stand and wait until I’ve finished playing to take action. Anything that is noisy to my ears, I simply deal with it directly.”
“It just so happens that the imperial exams are approaching. Lin Yue, you will be in charge of this year’s exams.”
Lin Yue: “This subject obeys!”
“Do any of you have anything else to say?” Yun Wuxiang scanned the officials standing in the pool of blood from above, asking slowly.
Thud. Knees hit the ground followed by the trembling voices of terrified subjects: “Your Majesty is wise.”
“Your Majesty is wise!”
The officials kept their heads bowed, showing none of their previous arrogant, shouting behavior.
All they could see was the floor where blood still lingered.
The metallic scent in the air stimulated everyone’s nerves. In a daze, they felt as if they had returned to the time when the Songxuan Emperor had just ascended the throne—the same bloody floor, only missing that arrogant laughter.
The disappearance of a tyrant did not mean the storm clouds overhead had cleared.
Because a new tyrant had already taken the high seat, watching the restless fish jump out of the water with cold eyes, only to catch them all in one net.
“Then, court is dismissed.”
Yun Wuxiang rose and left. Lin Yue swept a disdainful look over the officials on the ground, tilted his chin up, and followed Yun Wuxiang.
After years of being tormented by the Songxuan Emperor, the surviving officials had mental resilience far beyond ordinary people. They quickly recovered from the shock.
“Lords, what should we do now?”
“We wait. It’s not like a Dowager Empress ruling from behind the curtain has never happened before. His body is so weak that even consummating the marriage could kill him; even someone with the Grand Ancestor’s temper could only endure it. With a body like that, how many years can he live?”
“Once we endure these few years, the Songxuan Emperor will still be surnamed Song.”
“Your words are reasonable, Lord.”
“This is also for the best. The Grand Ancestor is only missing; I won’t be at ease until I see his corpse. Just thinking that he might suddenly return one day…” The speaking official couldn’t help but shudder.
The other officials thought about it and felt a chill in their hearts.
“Correct. It’s better to be steady. Although Emperor Yun is not of the imperial bloodline, he is much better at governing the nation than the Grand Ancestor. He can be considered a talent for governance. We shall simply treat it as the young Emperor being too immature and a powerful subject assisting the nation.”
“Yes, exactly.”
By changing their perspective, the Songxuan officials quickly convinced themselves.
They had endured the Songxuan Emperor for so many years; what were a few more years of waiting?
Then, those “few years” were postponed indefinitely. They waited year after year. The elderly of the same generation retired one after another, and new faces appeared in the court, yet the “sickly weakling” on the throne—the one who looked like he wouldn’t live long—was still alive.
“Your Majesty, that thing of yours is truly majestic.”
After court, Lin Yue followed Yun Wuxiang, praising him incessantly, his eyes constantly peeking at Yun Wuxiang’s sleeve.
Yun Wuxiang handed the gun to him. “Take it. Don’t touch the barrel.”
Lin Yue was excited. “Your Majesty, what is this?”
Yun Wuxiang: “A gun.”
It was one of the weapons he had created in the past three years. Ancient productivity was low, and he had many other things to work on, so this was the only gun he had produced.
There were only two nations in this Small World, and the ruler of the other was an acquaintance. If there was no war, this thing was just a self-defense weapon—not very useful, but good for scaring people.
As a demon with cultivation, Yun Wuxiang looked down on the power of an ordinary gun, but to a true ancient person, this was a “dimensional strike.”
“This is a divine artifact! If it could be mass-produced…” Lin Yue excitedly held the gun and admired it for a long while. Just as he wanted to say more to Yun Wuxiang, he looked up and saw the other’s indifferent and hollow face.
Lin Yue finally remembered that the Songxuan Emperor was still missing. Having just experienced such an event, His Majesty’s mood probably wasn’t very good. He sighed in his heart and comforted, “I hope Your Majesty takes care of your imperial health.”
“Mm.” Yun Wuxiang’s expression was faint. In Lin Yue’s eyes, this was a sign of “no grief being greater than the death of one’s heart.”
He felt a pang of sorrow. His Majesty must have feelings for the Songxuan Emperor too.
Another few days passed. Yun Wuxiang didn’t receive a reply from Yun Tianqing—he received the person herself.
In the courtyard, Yun Tianqing was dressed in black robes, looking like an assassin.
The sky was dim, and there was a chill in the wind. Yun Tianqing’s robes seemed to have lost their warmth from the journey.
Yun Tianqing took off her hood. Years had passed, and the struggles on the battlefield as well as the regency in the palace had left their marks on her. The aura of a high-ranking ruler didn’t need to be highlighted deliberately; her standing there was the definition of extraordinary presence and peerless grace.
This Great General of high power and status was currently looking at Yun Wuxiang with a complex expression, as if she were holding something back—an expression of having a lot to say but not knowing where to start.
Yun Wuxiang immediately guessed something. He spoke first, “A-jie, it’s been a long time.”
Yun Tianqing nodded in response. “Long time no see, Little Brother. The Songxuan Emperor, he…”
“Is inside?” Yun Wuxiang’s gaze fell on the coffin behind Yun Tianqing. It was late summer or early autumn, and the weather was still mild, yet the coffin radiated a chill.
Yun Wuxiang bypassed Yun Tianqing, pushed open the coffin lid, and saw a pile of ice. Beneath the ice, a blurry figure could be seen.
Clearing away some of the ice, a familiar face was revealed. The five small beauty marks below the eye served as an identification mark. The pale skin had a layer of green—the color symbolizing the exhaustion of life.
He had seen Song Yilou’s “death” many times, but this was the first time it looked so real.
Yun Wuxiang felt a sense of novelty. He stared at the corpse for a while. “He really played himself to death.”
Yun Tianqing stood to the side. The person who slaughtered everyone on the battlefield was now full of hesitation, like a clumsy parent who had accidentally broken a child’s favorite toy and couldn’t fix it. There was guilt and a trace of hope in her expression, wishing the child didn’t like the toy that much.
“Little Brother, did you really fall in love with him?”
His white hair fell, swaying gently with the breeze and covering Yun Wuxiang’s eyes. Only his pale, thin lips could be seen moving: “Love?”
“Are you referring to the affection spoken of by the people of the world?”
Yun Wuxiang reached out and touched the person in the coffin. He poked the face with his finger—it was hard, just like the ice beside it.
The chill inside the coffin was piercing. His fair finger quickly turned a light red from the cold. Yun Wuxiang, as if having no sensation, expressionlessly withdrew his hand and said softly, “Actually, I don’t quite understand that emotion.”
Yun Tianqing should have breathed a sigh of relief hearing this, but her brother’s reaction didn’t seem right no matter how she looked at it. She couldn’t relax at all, and her heart jumped into her throat.
Then she heard Yun Wuxiang say calmly and seriously: “However, Song Yilou is mine. Even if he dies, he should die at my hands.”
“Whether he lives or dies should be decided by me.”
“Only me.”
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