Just moments ago, Bai Qinghan had been thinking about how to deal with these people.
These... human scum. Trash.
No matter who they were, no matter which Celestial Official or which Emperor Blood, not a single one of them was innocent.
Every Celestial Official had lives on their hands. Perhaps they had not personally killed anyone, but the order they established oppressed people; the futures shaped by their decisions had caused countless deaths. None of them had ever felt the slightest guilt. Hidden behind Da Chen, they bore no responsibility, doing everything in their power to use the entire Imperial Dynasty as a shield while siphoning away wealth and authority.
Those of Emperor Blood were even worse. These royal bloodlines selected by the Emperor Court itself had already enjoyed the utmost treatment imaginable in the mortal world. After becoming Emperor Blood, they gained the possibility of becoming Zhen King or even Emperor Lord. The splendor and riches they enjoyed, the fat and blood squeezed from the common people—just a little that leaked from their hands could feed millions, even tens of millions, of refugees.
Even the youngest one, that Emperor Blood who was only six or seven, normally wore brocade and ate delicacies, attended by palace maids. He was picky and capricious; priceless delicacies would be casually thrown away if they did not suit his palate or if he was in a bad mood, and he would curse at the palace maids. He had never regarded them as people, freely beating, berating, and humiliating them.
They could have saved many people.
But they had never considered it.
Even those palace maids, seemingly lowly, were only lowly within Xuantian Palace—they were the children of great and minor aristocratic families from all across the land, those eliminated from inheriting their families' principal