The Eighth Prince suddenly sneezed. Chills ran down his back, and he kept feeling as though a pair of invisible eyes were watching him. Yet whenever he came to his senses and looked around, those eyes disappeared.
The ministers were still wailing one after another. Those kowtowing slammed their heads down with all their might, as though their skulls were made of steel. Not only did they show no trace of pain, they seemed positively delighted to keep at it.
A second minister collapsed to the floor, foaming at the mouth, and was carried away by the staff of the Imperial Medical Bureau.
Shen Yangge said, "...Hiss."
He looked at Chu Xuanzhen's dark, decidedly ugly expression and, after considerable thought, decided not to get embroiled in this mess.
When Shen Yangge suddenly deviated from the plan, the ministers cried even harder. Most of them were putting on an act, of course, but a small number were sincerely devoted to the country and its people. They hoped things would settle down soon so the nation could regain its former prosperity, and they put everything they had into their weeping.
"Enough!"
Chu Xuanzhen's voice rang out like thunder splitting the sky, bringing everyone present to a halt.
The Golden Throne Hall, so noisy a moment earlier, fell utterly silent. Even a silver needle dropping to the floor would have been clearly audible.
"All of you, shut up. Anyone who keeps throwing tantrums or making a racket will be thrown into prison."
Chu Xuanzhen delivered those words calmly, as casually as if he were eating an ordinary meal. Yet to everyone listening, his voice sounded like an unearthly, demonic melody that left them trembling.
Now the ministers no longer dared to act up.
They exchanged a few glances, then all looked toward the