Everyone prostrated themselves. Fallen leaves scattered across the stone floor, and kneeling at the forefront, holding a ceremonial tray, was none other than Ge Er Jin Qin, king of Ma Sui.
Outside, the banners of the Mad Yellow Army of Heaven fluttered in the wind. Their soldiers, fierce and bloodthirsty, gazed upon the kneeling king and his court with disdain and mockery, their very breaths heavy with violence and unrest.
Directly in front of the gates, Ruo Wen, the leader of this destructive force, smirked as he dismounted his horse. Dressed in black, he moved forward with an aura of dark majesty, each step striking fear into the hearts of those around him. As he walked, the wind blew through the ranks, and sweat beaded on the foreheads of the prostrate courtiers. In the sunlight, it gleamed like a shower of diamonds, adding a surreal quality to the scene.
But this was no golden age of peace—this was the edge of death, an inescapable descent into oblivion.
Ruo Wen approached Ge Er Jin Qin. One hand still gripping his black whip, he carelessly picked up the jade seal and the red jade ring from the ceremonial tray. Smiling coldly, he called out, “Fei Wen,” summoning the red-robed dancer. He tossed the ring into her hand, and she gleefully slid it onto her thumb. “Thank you, Chief!” she exclaimed, turning to smugly taunt the blue-robed dancer, Ruo Lan, who glared back, clearly unhappy.
Ruo Wen ignored the kneeling crowd and strode into the palace, casually taking the king’s throne. In that instant, the palace seemed to recognize its new master, gleaming with golden light. Mang Hu, Falling Eagle, Wolf Head, Cheng Xiang, and the others followed him in, forming two lines on either side, as if they were back in their northern desert stronghold.
“Get rid of them,” Ruo Wen said, lounging in the wide throne, his expression dark and ominous.
Mang Hu stepped outside the palace gates and bellowed, “Get out! What are you still kneeling here for?”
Ge Er Jin Qin, trembling and drenched in cold sweat, cautiously set down the tray and mustered the courage to ask, “The royal jade seal… please, take it.”
Mang Hu let out a sinister laugh, sending a shiver down the spines of those still kneeling in the courtyard.
“Didn’t you hear him say ‘Get out!’? Brothers, if anyone likes that worthless thing, just take it!” Mang Hu addressed the lines of guards standing by the door. Upon hearing this, Ge Er Jin Qin and the ministers felt a shock run through them. Ruo Wen had grown so arrogant that even the imperial seal, an object countless people had fought for, meant nothing to him.
And yet, the room remained eerily silent. No one stepped forward to claim the seal.
“No one wants it, huh? Fine then!” Mang Hu waved dismissively and turned to Ge Er Jin Qin. “You can get lost too!”
Ge Er Jin Qin, trembling, stood up and looked toward Ruo Wen. When he raised his head, Ruo Lan, the blue-robed dancer beside Ruo Wen, smiled with a spark of interest in her eyes.
Ge Er Jin Qin said, “We will abide by the terms of surrender and retreat to the Noble Tombs behind He Yan Mountain, never to return to this palace. At this moment, I sing praises for the new king, a ruler to be revered for eternity!”
As soon as he finished speaking, Ruo Wen let out a soft, fleeting laugh. It was quick, subtle, but cutting, like a raindrop striking the calm surface of a lake, foreshadowing a torrential downpour.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even spare Ge Er Jin Qin a glance.
At that moment, the blue-robed dancer, Ruo Lan, moved closer, her voice coy and sweet. “Chief, Ruo Lan wants a reward too!” She knelt beside Ruo Wen, her delicate hand suggestively caressing his hand, which rested on the arm of the throne.
“Oh? What do you want?” Ruo Wen glanced at her.
“I want those blue sapphires!” Ruo Lan said seductively, pointing directly at Ge Er Jin Qin.
There, on the fallen king’s face, were indeed two sapphire-blue eyes.
Ge Er Jin Qin froze in terror, collapsing to the ground.
“You... you...” His face turned deathly pale, and he could barely form words.
His sapphire-blue eyes stared at Ruo Wen in sheer horror.
Without hesitation, Ruo Wen coldly commanded, “Gouge them out!”
A gut-wrenching scream echoed through the grand hall. And then, silence.
In the dead of night…
Nearly three thousand members of Ma Sui’s nobility were forcibly relocated to the noble burial grounds behind He Yan Mountain. The forest lay still, with no birds flying overhead, and the streams carried no fish.
Several ministers helped their blinded king into the largest tomb in the center. Ge Er Jin Qin lay on a bed, his breathing weak and erratic. His lips were dark, and his body trembled uncontrollably. But even in this pitiful state, he clutched the royal seal in his hands, muttering feverishly.
“No family greater than the Rain Tribe... the seal… in hand, the world prospers... remember this... I... I am king!” He repeated these words over and over, as if reciting the proclamation from his coronation day.
The ministers watching him sighed in sorrow. Overnight, their world had crumbled. Although history was no stranger to regime changes, few could comprehend the scale of the calamity that had befallen Ma Sui. In just ten days, the royal palace had changed hands.
Who would believe such a tale? And yet, it was undeniable.
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