"You really... truly think that?"
"Every word comes from the heart. I swear it's no lie!" Jiang Cheng rose to his feet and said righteously, "Please tell me what Lord of False Words did to incur the emperor's wrath and bring down this death sentence."
The person behind the screen held their breath for a long while, then let out a slow sigh. "Jiangbei suffered a three-year drought. Not a single grain was harvested, and the land lay parched for thousands of miles. A million refugees survived on grass roots and tree bark. Wherever they went, they left nothing behind, like locusts passing through. Some even hid in remote places at night and ate their own children. Human life was cheap as dirt, and the devastation was beyond words. Yet the food, supplies, and silver meant for disaster relief were skimmed at every level. Less than one tenth reached the refugees. The roads were littered with the bones of those fleeing famine, and the stench of corpses carried for miles."
"In the spring of the second year, the disaster eased somewhat. Just as the people needed relief and aid, someone petitioned the emperor to use funds from the imperial treasury to rebuild the palace, so as to intimidate foreign states and bolster the prestige of the throne. The ministers all voiced their support. Lord of False Words remonstrated three times, to no avail. In the end, he was forced to submit a list of thirty-three crimes before the court, right in front of the emperor. He aimed his accusations at the powerful officials filling the court, and finally asked the emperor to issue an edict of self-reproach, to apologize to the people of the realm."
"First, allowing treacherous officials to hold power. Second, persecuting loyal ministers. Third, deceiving the emperor