He Kept Calling the Loss of the Prefectures a Grave Crime, Yet Felt Not a Trace of Remorse!!

The Imperial Study in the palace was brightly lit.

Emperor Jing of Zhou sat behind the Imperial Desk, reviewing memorials.

The eunuch Wang Cheng tiptoed inside, carrying a small bowl.

It was a modest white porcelain bowl, more than half filled with dark brown medicine.

Wang Cheng approached the Imperial Desk and bowed. "Your Majesty, it is time for your medicine."

Emperor Jing of Zhou did not look up, merely murmuring his assent.

Wang Cheng gently placed the bowl on the Imperial Desk, stepped back, and stood to one side with his hands lowered.

His eyes remained fixed on the bowl, as though he feared the emperor would forget it.

The medicine sat beside the memorials, and Emperor Jing of Zhou shifted his gaze toward it.

He picked up the bowl and brought it to his lips. The bitter taste made him frown, and he set it down again.

"I am fine," Emperor Jing of Zhou said mildly. "There is no need to bring this medicine anymore."

The words had barely left his mouth before Wang Cheng dropped to his knees with a thud.

"Your Majesty!"

"The imperial physician said your liver qi is stagnant and your heart blood deficient. You must take this medicine continuously, without missing a single day."

Emperor Jing of Zhou looked at Wang Cheng kneeling on the floor and knew why he was afraid.

In the Ninth Year of Jinghe, the court had received an urgent report that the Shaanxi-Gansu Three Prefectures had fallen.

Emperor Jing of Zhou had fainted on the spot from rage, frightening every civil and military official at court out of their wits.

Ever since then, Wang Cheng had been haunted by that fear.

After all, a new emperor meant a new set of ministers.

Thus, every day he watched over