Seeing the Forbidden Martial Guards emerge from the darkness, Yan Lan remained calm. The officials behind him were no less composed.
An old minister stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, the Forbidden Martial Guards under your command are strong, but there are only so many of them. The Imperial Palace is already under our control. You'd be wise to give up resisting. You can become the Retired Emperor instead of the former emperor."
His long eyebrows hid his eyes, making his expression impossible to read, but his words laid his ambition bare.
"You old relics... You've got one foot in the grave, so why are your ambitions only growing?"
The emperor's voice came from up ahead. He sounded as if he had just woken up; there was not the slightest trace of anger or killing intent in his voice.
Another old minister spoke up. "If the realm were stable and the people could live and work in peace, why would any of us still wear these official robes? Zhao Zhi, you stole the imperial power of Zhao Yan. If you had governed with diligence, that would have been one thing. But look at all the things you've done to offend Heaven and reason. When you descend to the underworld, how will you face the High Ancestor?"
Hearing this, Yan Lan's gaze turned cold once more.
He knew that today's actions would earn him the condemnation of posterity, but for the sake of the people, he was willing to bear that infamy.
"Descend to the underworld? Hahahaha—"
The emperor seemed to have heard the greatest joke in the world. His body shook with laughter in the darkness, while Xuan Gong stood motionless before him, his eyes beneath the mask like those of a vengeful spirit as he looked down at Yan