The tea was clear, no longer steaming, and a delicate fragrance wafted from it, refreshing the heart and lungs. Just that single breath of its scent eased the emperor's agitation a little.
"Damn it. Is this the backlash inherited from Father, the founding emperor?"
"Did Father suffer like this too? The closer death draws, the greater the pain." At the thought, his father's contorted face seemed to appear before his eyes-the mighty founding emperor of a dynasty, struggling in agony on his deathbed until he finally breathed his last.
"No. I cannot end like that."
With trembling fingers, the emperor grasped the rim of the tea bowl, tipped back his head, and drank. Eunuch Zhao did not let go, gently supporting the bowl as he served the emperor his tea.
The small bowl of tea went down his throat, its coolness flowing straight down, and only then did his unbearable discomfort ease a little.
A trace of color returned to the emperor's pale, bluish face. He softly exhaled a stale breath, but the chill in his eyes was even sharper than before.
"I cannot end like that. When I saw how Father died, I swore I would never end like that."
The emperor swept his gaze over the people below, doing all he could to control the murderous intent in his heart.
I lost my temper just now, but what do they know of the suffering Father and I endured?
I have sacrificed my finest son, and even the empress has grown distant from me. How can I retreat?
I am the Son of Heaven. I am the greater good. Whoever dares obstruct me, I will not merely kill him-I will slaughter his entire clan.
But not yet. The time has not come.
The emperor suppressed his feelings. At the