The imperial capital of Great Xia, Hall of Mental Cultivation.
The bedchamber had beams of heavenly sandalwood, lamps of crystal and jade, curtains of jadeite and pearls. Smoke curled upward from the purple-gold incense burner, yet the delicacies spread across the table had not been touched with a single chopstick.
The person lying upon the dragon bed was none other than Yu Daocheng, the founding emperor of Great Xia.
He looked no more than fifty, an age that should have been the prime of life. Yet his temples had turned white, wrinkles covered his face, and his body appeared exceedingly frail. Only his pair of eyes still shone with vigor.
Two ministers stood by the bed. Those allowed to stand in the emperor's private quarters were either first-rank officials who stood at the very pinnacle beneath the throne, or men exceptionally close to the emperor—trusted attendants of the Son of Heaven.
These two ministers were Grand Scholar of the Wenchang Pavilion Fan Yan and Minister of Revenue Liu Longqing. Both were among the officials closest to the emperor, able to deliberate on matters spanning Great Xia's livelihood, taxation, legislation, finances, and many other vital centers of power.
"Your Majesty, the Su Lake Region has suffered a severe drought this year. The rice planted in spring is nearing summer and should soon be harvested, but the crops have all died. I fear the people will go hungry."
"Grain merchants throughout the land are driving up prices, while most government granaries are already sounding the alarm. The people are suffering beyond endurance. If this continues, I fear—"
"Minister Fan." Fan Yan was speaking with utmost seriousness, but before he could finish, the emperor interrupted him.
Yu Daocheng shot him a displeased glance and said heavily, "Why does it sound, from your mouth,