Ji Fa Ascends the Throne as Son of Heaven; the Duke of Zhou Establishes Rites and Music, and the Chan Sect's Great Way Flourishes

"Sacrificing to the gods of the land and grain with the blood of the Human Sovereign..." Jiang Ziya murmured, a difficult-to-describe reverence mingled with relief.

This single blaze had left the seven hundred and twenty thousand-year imperial legacy of the Shang Dynasty with one last shred of dignity.

Three days later, at the Shang ancestral temple.

The charred beams still held the scent of smoke, and the shattered Xuan Bird totem flaked away in the wind.

Ji Fa stood atop the vermilion steps, dressed in dark robes and crimson skirts, a treasured sword hanging at his waist, its cold light glinting sharply.

When Viscount Wei Qi once again led the nobles in prostrating themselves to offer the imperial seal, Ji Fa suddenly pressed a hand to his sword and shouted, "Do you know your crimes?!"

Dead silence fell over the steps like a tomb. Sweat beaded on Jiao Ge's temple.

"On the day King Zhou cut Bi Gan open, you were feasting at Lutai!"

The sword's cold gleam swept past Viscount Wei Qi's head, drawing a collective gasp.

"When the people of Shang were eating their own children, millet in your granaries was rotting!"

The cold light flashed again. Viscount Wei Qi's crown split in two and tumbled into the dust.

Ji Fa thrust his sword back into its scabbard, his voice ringing like clashing metal.

"Yet Zhou rose through benevolence. You may live as commoners and offer sacrifices to Cheng Tang year after year!"

Suppressed sobs rose from the prostrate crowd, impossible to tell whether they were born of fear or relief.

"Thud!"

A heavy sound broke the oppressive silence.

Bi Gan Yan pushed through the crowd. His eyes were bloodshot, and a low growl forced its way from his throat. "You sycophants are unworthy of offering sacrifices to