The Night Watchman's Calamity

His Majesty drew a deep breath and composed his expression. "Esteemed Envoy, may I ask whose hand this news came from?"

The Night Watchman said, "Your Majesty asks this—could it be that you intend to cut off this root of calamity using the same methods once employed against the Heavenly Machine Dao Sect?"

His Majesty said, "How would I dare? I merely wish to clarify the misunderstanding with this person face-to-face."

The Night Watchman said:

"If Your Majesty wishes to clarify the misunderstanding, the best way is not to confront that person face-to-face, but to set up an altar and worship the ancestors!"

"Set up an altar and worship the ancestors?" His Majesty's heavy brows drew tightly together, unable to grasp the meaning.

"To set up an altar and worship the ancestors is for one matter alone: open the imperial mausoleum, and under the witness of the Great Confucians in the capital, retrieve the Former Emperor's remains. Would not the truth of the Former Emperor's death then come fully to light?" The Night Watchman said, "As the saying goes, the pure remain pure, the muddy remain muddy; rumors vanish before truth, and the worthy stand in clarity. Your Majesty styles yourself a Wise Ruler of an era, so you ought to have a way to resolve this!"

The moment his voice fell, he turned and left. With one step, he entered the Confucian Temple and vanished from sight.

As the golden light of the imperial seal withdrew, His Majesty returned to the depths of the palace in a single step...

With a boom, ancient books a thousand years old scattered across the study floor. His Majesty stood in the study, one palm slammed heavily upon the desk, his body frozen in place for a long time without moving.

"Your Majesty..."