The decree from King Zhou, sent from Zhaoge, burned like a red-hot branding iron as it slammed hard into Su Hu's heart.
He clutched that roll of bright yellow imperial silk, his knuckles turning bluish white from the force. On his broad face, his brows were twisted tightly into the character for "river," and in the depths of his eyes surged waves that would not calm, conflict and irritation crawling over every line of his expression.
After a long while, he slammed the decree down on the table. The bronze lampstand shook, and sparks of wick ash fell in a rustle. The dim yellow lamplight cast interlacing shadows of brightness and dark across his face, making his expression seem all the more complicated.
In truth, the thought of submitting to Zhou had long since stirred in his heart. Ji Fa of Xiqi was benevolent and virtuous, and all under heaven turned their hearts toward him, while Shang Zhou was brutal and without the Way, having utterly lost the people's support.
He had long been unwilling to keep risking his life for this rotten Great Shang. He had secretly planned for a long time, wanting only to find an opportunity to abandon darkness for the light, preserve the Jizhou branch of his clan, and also follow the great tide of the world.
But now, with a single decree, King Zhou had ordered him to personally lead Jizhou's troops to attack Xiqi. Without question, this was forcing him onto a road of no return, running directly counter to the plans deep in his heart.
On one side was the ruler's command, hard to defy. If he openly resisted the decree, Jizhou would immediately draw the encirclement and suppression of the Shang Army, and the calamity of his entire household being executed was