The palace gardens ran deep, and no geese cried in the vast sky.
The empty Celestial Vault and the unbroken stretch of palaces spread endlessly across the eye.
They traveled by carriage, then sedan chair, then on foot.
They walked over desolate stone paving, weeds sprouting through its cracks.
The white-robed State Marquis passed Blue Stone Palace.
Spider webs clung to its green eaves, while sparrows flitted over its red tiles.
Amid the grandeur of the Qi palace, this was a withered corner.
Qiu Ji explained from ahead, "The fewer people who know of your duel with the Marquis of Wu'an, the better... though it can no longer be concealed."
There were many roads into the palace. He was explaining why they had taken this one.
Chongxuan Zun did not care.
He had not yet sobered up. It was no harm to let the world remain bewildered a while longer.
The present Son of Heaven had reigned for fifty-eight years. Throughout those fifty-eight years, his will had always shrouded this sky. Where his sword pointed, ten thousand armies marched. Wherever his gaze fell, the hearts of countless millions turned. Yet not everyone would bend to his will.
People called him the Holy Emperor, but their hearts were different.
For instance, Jiang Wuliang of Blue Stone Palace had stubbornly advocated peace; Chongxuan Mingtu had refused to lead troops; Duke of Loulan had raised the banner of rebellion in the Ming Lands...
Yet without exception, none who defied the Son of Heaven's will had met a good end.
Whether you were the foremost among meritorious nobles, an unparalleled military talent, or even the Heir Apparent of the state.
History had proven the present Son of Heaven right time and again.
And history had time and again shown how one could win back