The enormous shadow of the Flying Boat swept across the Imperial City Square and slowly landed on the Raised Platform reserved specifically for the royal Flying Boat.
The cabin door slid open silently, and the gangway was lowered.
Under Murong Bai's respectful guidance, Zhang Yu took a deep breath, calmly stepped out, and set foot on the land of the Eastern Sheng Kingdom.
The square was filled with a vast, dark mass of people, stretching to the horizon and almost disappearing from sight.
The next moment, something happened that made Zhang Yu's pupils shrink.
Without any warning or command, it was as if it had been rehearsed a thousand times.
The boundless, densely packed million people, like wheat fields blown down by a gale, all knelt down in unison!
Not on one knee, but on both knees!
Heads bowed, backs bent, the dark mass of people instantly shrank considerably, forming a silent and oppressive black ocean of flesh and blood.
Zhang Yu's brows furrowed imperceptibly.
Instead of feeling moved or excited, my heart was filled with alarm bells.
How could a group of people, steeped in the ideology of resisting tyranny for many years and deeply resenting the Imperial Family, kneel before a Princes who had shown them no kindness whatsoever?
This doesn't make sense.
This is more like a meticulously planned performance, a show that embodies public opinion and presents it in the most humble yet most oppressive manner—a coup!
Your Highness, look!
Your people... they are kneeling before you!
Murong Bai's voice trembled with excitement, and tears even welled up in his old eyes.
In the eyes of this old minister, this was undoubtedly the will of the people and a sign that the Sheng family's imperial destiny was not yet over.
What a glorious thing it is that millions of citizens spontaneously knelt to welcome them.
Murong Qiushui stood behind her grandfather, her delicate Small Face filled with astonishment and disbelief.
She understood the true attitude of the outside world towards the Imperial Family better than her grandfather did.
This sudden, eerily synchronized kneeling made her instinctively feel uneasy and... unreal.
This is too unreal.
However, before anyone could think or react further, the silent black ocean suddenly erupted!
It's no longer silence, no longer a humble posture of kneeling that can conceal it.
The roar, like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing, erupted from the chests of millions, like a long-accumulated volcano, converging into a furious roar that tore through the sky.
"The people of the Eastern Sheng Kingdom kneel and beg the Sheng Family to abdicate the throne and leave a way for our people to live."
The outcry was like a tidal wave; before the first wave had subsided, the second wave had already begun.
The shouts became more unified and higher-pitched, carrying a sorrowful, resolute, and undeniable power.
"The people of the Eastern Sheng Kingdom kneel and beg the Sheng Family to abdicate the throne and leave a way for our people to live."
The third wave, the fourth wave... the sound waves rose higher and higher, continuous and relentless, repeatedly washing over the majestic Imperial City.
It also impacted the eardrums and mind of everyone on the platform.
Kneeling is merely a formality.
That roar is the core.
Millions of people, in the most humble manner, voiced the most acute and direct demands.
It wasn't welcome, it wasn't recognition, it was coercion.
They forced the only heir of the Sheng Family to abdicate in front of the Imperial City, under the watchful eyes of the masses.
Abandon the imperial system.
This is not a petition, this is an ultimatum.
The kneeling and roaring of millions wove an invisible yet incredibly heavy net, which enveloped Zhang Yu, who had just set foot in this place.
This is an open conspiracy, a blatant attempt to manipulate public opinion, to completely sever his legitimacy in inheriting the throne in front of the whole world!
The excitement and tears on Murong Bai's face froze instantly. The color drained from his face at a visible speed, replaced by a deathly paleness and incredulous shock.
His outstretched hand froze in mid-air, his lips trembling, but he couldn't utter a single word.
He realized that this was not a welcome at all, but a meticulously planned and extremely malicious trap.
A scheme designed to undermine the enemy's morale.
Murong Qiushui was also stunned, then said excitedly, "This is the will of the people, the overwhelming will of the people, no one can stop this tide of the times."
As she spoke, she gave Zhang Yu a smug look.
It means you'd better be sensible and abolish the imperial system.
Zhang Lingyun quietly took half a step forward, her fingers already resting on the hilt of the ancient longsword at her waist.
Her eyes, sharp as an eagle's, scanned the dark mass of people below and the buildings further away, wary of any possible attack.
But she also knew that the real killer move was this invisible wave of public opinion, this noose of morality and public opinion.
Zhang Yu stood still, his posture upright and motionless.
A gust of wind whipped up the stray hairs on his forehead, revealing a pair of eyes as black as ink beneath.
The initial surprise and solemnity in his eyes had faded, replaced by an unfathomable coldness, and a hint of... knowing mockery.
Really.
I'm so frustrated.
Moreover, it was a decisive, ruthless, and utterly ruthless strike that was held back for so long.
He slowly raised his hand, not to signal the crowd to be quiet, but to gently straighten his already neatly arranged clothes.
This action was unhurried, even somewhat casual, creating a stark contrast with the overwhelming clamor for a coup below.
Then, facing the deafening roar that seemed to engulf him, and facing a million gazes—some fervent, some indifferent, some expectant, and some malicious—he slowly took a step forward.
Just one step.
But it was as if they had stepped on some invisible node, causing the thunderous roar to pause.
In the distance, a secluded alleyway.
A seemingly simple but actually exquisitely crafted red sedan chair sat quietly there, its curtains hanging low.
Beside the sedan chair, two trusted attendants were peering at the scene on the platform through specially made one-sided crystal.
"Your Prime Minister, look!"
That kid must be dumbfounded, completely stunned by this display.
Haha, your pants must be soaked!
A weasel-faced servant pointed at Zhang Yu, who remained silent in the image, and sneered in a low voice.
"That's right, Prime Minister, you're using a sledgehammer to crack a nut."
"To deal with a wild boy from some backwater village, just send some men to scare him off and make him back down."
Another burly servant chimed in, his tone full of disdain.
Behind the red sedan chair, a middle-aged scholar holding a white feather fan was leisurely waving the fan, his gaze also fixed on the image.
Upon hearing this, he gently shook his head.
"When a lion hunts a rabbit, it uses its full strength."
How can we be careless just because our opponent seems weak?
"Lord Sima is absolutely right; this old servant was too shallow." The sharp-tongued servant quickly bowed.
The sedan curtain moved slightly, and a compassionate voice came:
"This action by the Prime Minister was not out of necessity, nor was it for personal gain."
This petition, though a poor choice, is for the sake of all the people and for the long-term prosperity of the Eastern Sheng Kingdom.
We can only hope that His Your Highness Zhang Yu will understand the people's sentiments, know when to back down, and voluntarily return power to the people.
His tone was sincere, filled with concern for the country and its people; it was as if every word was written in blood, and every sentence came from the bottom of his heart.
"Your Prime Minister is benevolent and virtuous, and has the world in your heart; you are truly a blessing to our Eastern Sheng Kingdom."
Lord Sima, holding a feather fan, bowed slightly, but a look of disdain for an idiot flashed in his eyes.