Ganzhou, Qushan Commandery, temporary palace.
The officials in their court robes stood trembling, each with his head bowed, not daring to meet Zheng Qiao's gaze. The palace was filled with a suffocating, murderous dread. Above them, Zheng Qiao held an ornate ruyi scepter inlaid with gold and jade in his right hand, tapping it idly against his left palm as he paced back and forth. His steps were light, yet each one landed in their hearts like a heavy hammer...
Thud, thud, thud—
After a long while, Zheng Qiao finally spoke.
He sneered contemptuously. "I heard that another faction answered Huang Lie's call today and tried to topple this throne. Is that so?"
"They're nothing but a rabble, not worth fearing. Once the Royal Army under the Sovereign's command arrives, they'll surely collapse." The speaker was a handsome young official, though a hint of treachery colored his bearing, and his words reeked of flattery.
He had once been a petty clerk in Qushan Commandery, with no real talent to speak of. But he had a knack for living off his wife. After marrying into her family, he won her over, then persuaded his in-laws to buy him an official post. At least he was no longer a nobody. He had no other skills, but when it came to currying favor and sucking up, he was second to none. Zheng Qiao took a liking to him once and promoted him over the heads of his peers, sending him soaring straight into the court.
Once a man made it big, he could finally stand tall.
He even dared to take three or five bedchamber maids for himself.
Yet whenever he faced Zheng Qiao, he still wore the same fawning, respectful expression.
Zheng Qiao scoffed at his words.
"A rabble? Hah. If they