Meanwhile, Yang Feng was drinking.
And he was drinking with several enchanting beauties.
He had to admit, that old man Yan Xiang really knew how to get things done.
No sooner had he settled Yang Feng in than he sent over food, wine, and four maids, some voluptuous, some slender, each with her own charms.
In their words, they had come on their master's orders to "ease Young Master Yang's fatigue."
Yang Feng stood on no ceremony.
Having someone wait on him and wine to drink was better than sitting alone in his room letting his thoughts run wild.
He reclined on a soft couch, allowing the maid beside him to fill his cup, while his mind raced.
Today's affair had caused far too much of a stir.
The heavenly screen had named him: the one emperor above all through the ages.
That idiot Yuan Shu surely already regarded him as a thorn in his eye, a splinter in his flesh.
And that old man Yan Xiang had protected him in front of everyone, which amounted to openly tearing off the facade of civility with Yuan Shu.
What exactly was he trying to do?
Just because of a few words on the heavenly screen, he dared stake his life and fortune on a "slave" of unknown origins like me?
Wasn't that far too risky an investment?
Just as Yang Feng's thoughts were running in a thousand directions and he was growing tipsy, someone suddenly pushed the door open from outside.
Two burly, solemn-faced household guards entered and cupped their fists toward Yang Feng. Neither spoke; they merely gestured for him to follow.
Seeing this, the maids beside him immediately withdrew tactfully to one side, their eyes lowered in submission, not daring even to breathe loudly.
Yang Feng narrowed his eyes. With the wine going to his head, he had grown a little bolder.
"Where are we going now?"
He asked lazily.
The two men remained silent, merely bowing again, their manner respectful but brooking no argument.
Fine.
Yang Feng mulled it over. I'm in his residence, anyway. Surely Yan Xiang wouldn't hurt me.
Maybe the old man has prepared something else nice to surprise me.
He swayed to his feet and headed outside, half supported, half held up by the two men.
The night breeze made the wine hit him harder. Yang Feng felt the world spin, his feet as though they were treading on cotton.
Dazed and too lazy to look where they were going, he simply let the two men prop him up as they crossed courtyards and passed through long corridors.
After walking for a long time, he only sobered up a little when they pressed him into a seat again.
He opened his bleary eyes and looked around.
Towering pillars that were almost excessively tall, a vast and imposing hall, and... beneath him, a cold, hard chair covered in carved dragon patterns.
Huh?
A dragon throne?
Yang Feng's mind buzzed, and he instantly sobered halfway up.
Wasn't this Yuan Shu's fucking imperial audience hall?
How did I end up here?
And get pressed onto the dragon throne?
This was no joke. Sitting in this seat could get my head chopped off.
Before he could jump up, he saw Yan Xiang slowly enter through the hall doors.
Behind him came General-in-Chief Ji Ling, along with a group of armored officers and soldiers and civil officials wearing varying expressions.
The entire hall was silent as the grave, the atmosphere unbearably heavy.
Yang Feng's heart lurched. He inwardly sensed trouble.
What was going on?
A Hongmen banquet?
Had this old man Yan Xiang praised me to the skies only to sell me out to appease Yuan Shu?
Yan Xiang walked to the center of the hall and nodded to someone beside him.
That man immediately took out a sky lantern and lit the candle beneath it.
A moment later, the sky lantern rose unsteadily from the hall entrance, carrying a bright flame as it floated toward the pitch-black night sky.
The instant the sky lantern rose, the two men who had remained beside Yang Feng suddenly moved.
They swiftly draped something over him.
Yang Feng looked down. It was soft to the touch, but its color was a glaring imperial yellow... a blanket?
No, wait. Under these circumstances, this thing should be called a dragon robe.
What the fuck?
The next second, Yan Xiang lifted his robes and was the first to fall to his knees. Facing Yang Feng on the dragon throne, he shouted with every ounce of strength he had.
"Long live our emperor! Long live, long, long live!"
"Your subject Yan Xiang respectfully begs Emperor Yang Feng to ascend the throne!"
That shout struck like thunder from a clear sky, completely shouting the drunkenness out of Yang Feng.
He was utterly stunned, his mind blank as he stared dumbly at Yan Xiang kneeling below.
No... guys... what the hell are you doing?
Are you messing around?
When I arrived this morning, I was still a slave waiting to be beheaded. Only a few hours have passed, and by afternoon I'm going straight to being emperor?
What kind of fucking rocket-speed promotion was this?
Wasn't this far too drastic a reversal?
"No, no, no! You mustn't! You absolutely mustn't!"
Coming to his senses, Yang Feng fumbled frantically to pull the yellow blanket off himself.
What kind of ridiculous joke was this!
Be emperor?
Me?
A nobody with no authority, no influence, and no backing-if I sat in this seat, I wouldn't even know how I'd died.
Unexpectedly, the moment he moved, an even greater reaction erupted below.
With a great clatter, all the military officers, led by Ji Ling, dropped to one knee in unison, the clash of their armor ringing throughout the hall.
"We respectfully beg Your Majesty to ascend the throne!"
Immediately afterward, the civil officials also fell to their knees, kowtowing and raising thunderous cries.
"Long live our emperor! Long live, long, long live!"
Their voices surged like a tide, wave after wave, making the entire palace hum.
The sheer spectacle left Yang Feng completely dumbfounded.
His hands stopped in midair, still clutching the yellow robe. For a moment, he had no idea what to do.
This was a fucking mass forced transaction!
Seeing this, Yan Xiang raised his head and excitedly pointed at the speck of light outside, which was already about to vanish into the night sky, and said loudly.
"Your Majesty! Look!"
"The Purple Tenuity Star shines across the heavens, streaking through the night sky in perfect accord with this hall!"
"This is the mandate of heaven! Heaven is signaling for you to ascend the throne as emperor!"
"This is an auspicious sign sent down from heaven, a blessing for all the people!"
Yang Feng followed his finger and nearly had his nose twisted crooked with anger.
An auspicious sign?
The Purple Tenuity Star?
Oh, fuck off!
Yang Feng ranted furiously inside.
Wasn't that just an ordinary sky lantern?
Did they really think I'd never seen the world?
They wanted to hoodwink me into ascending the throne with a kindergarten-level trick like this?
After getting rid of that fool Yuan Shu, weren't these people just desperate to find a new puppet to hold things together?
And I, the "one emperor above all through the ages" certified by the heavenly screen, was the perfect candidate, right?
Having figured this out, Yang Feng was all the more determined not to agree, even if they beat him to death.
Whoever wants to be emperor can go ahead. I'm not taking on this rotten mess.
My goal is to make a few little inventions, earn some money, then embrace three or five lovely wives and beautiful concubines and enjoy retirement with a wife, children, and a warm bed-not take up a high-risk profession where my head hangs from my belt.
"Lord Yan, General Ji, everyone, please rise."
Yang Feng cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible.
"This is absolutely out of the question."
"What virtue or ability do I, Yang Feng, possess? I am merely a commoner. How could I dare usurp the throne?"
"Please choose another wise ruler, and stop joking with me."
As he spoke, he once again tried to take off the yellow robe.
This time, however, Ji Ling rose before he could.
The general-in-chief, who held military command and radiated an iron-blooded aura, strode to the foot of the imperial steps, bowed deeply to Yang Feng, and spoke in a voice heavy with grief.
"Your Majesty!"
"Yuan Shu was without virtue and acted against all that was right, leaving Huainan in ruin and its people unable to survive."
"Now the people in the city are all craning their necks in anticipation, hoping a truly wise sovereign will descend to this world and rescue them from fire and flood."
"Your Majesty holds the mandate of heaven. If you refuse to ascend the throne, what will become of all the people under heaven?"
Yan Xiang also rose and echoed him, tears streaming down his aged face.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Please, take pity on the people of Shouchun City!"
"They truly cannot wait any longer!"