The moment the Great Peacock Ming King's golden body shattered upon the Holy Land's lotus dais, the fate of the entire Holy Land seemed to snap with it.
Golden motes of light fell from the top of the lotus dais like shattered stars, fluttering down onto the bluestone road of pilgrimage.
The Great Ming King who had guarded the Holy Land for ten thousand years had fallen.
As the news raced through every corner of the Holy Land like wildfire, the first to descend into chaos were not the common folk, but the six ministries flanking the Purple Gold Hall and the Imperial Guard camps protecting the imperial city.
Deep within Minister of Revenue Zuo Wushang's residence, dim candlelight burned in an airtight stone chamber.
Zuo Wushang wore a crimson official robe, yet his fingers repeatedly stroked the map on the table. His fingertips traced the red line marked "National Treasury Grain Route," and his eyes brimmed with barely restrained agitation.
Standing opposite him was Imperial Guard Commander Niu Hongyu. He had yet to remove his black armor, with scraps of grass from the morning drill ground still caught in its seams. The Taotie pattern on the sheath at his waist glinted coldly beneath the candlelight.
"The Ming King has fallen. The Purple Gold Hall is an empty shell now." Zuo Wushang kept his voice extremely low, but it carried an unquestionable resolve.
"The Ministry of Revenue controls the realm's money and grain, while you command the imperial guards of the capital. If we join hands, seize control of the treasury and palace gates first, then summon the ministers in the name of 'stabilizing the Holy Land,' this throne..."
He did not finish, merely raising a hand in a gesture of taking hold.
Niu Hongyu's Adam's apple bobbed. He placed