For half a year, the royal court had been shrouded beneath Gu Chi's oppressive might.
Everyone, from top to bottom, had been trembling in fear.
Those with children at home kept a close eye on them, one by one.
Better to beat a misbehaving child into a cripple themselves than have him fall into Gu Chi's hands and lose his head. That man had gone on a killing spree, showing not the slightest mercy. The unspoken rules of officialdom they'd imagined—officials protecting one another, making big problems small and small problems disappear—were utterly useless. Gu Chi cared only about his own record of accomplishments. Over the past six months, more than a few people had considered secretly getting rid of him, but their grand ideas had run headfirst into the harsh realities of the world.
"Take that, for making a mistake! Take that, for making a mistake! Take that, for making a mistake—"
With each curse came a slap.
"You little beast! You little beast! You little beast—"
Before long, the ground was already spattered with streaks of blood.
After a few slaps, the person being beaten felt water sloshing inside his head. He couldn't even cry out for mercy. Her husband was too frightened to step forward and plead for him. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought of throwing himself over his son to take the blows in his place. But the moment the idea crossed his mind, the furious woman swept him aside with a gust of her palm. Then she issued a merciless command: "Have you all gone stupid? What are you standing around for? Watching a show? Seize him!"
The one being beaten came to his senses.
He begged his father for help, his words slurred.
The servants held the father and son apart, leaving