Heavenly Soul 75 The Fall Of A Dynasty

Like a pot boiling over, the raging rebellion suddenly broke through the imperial family's suppression.

The people rioted.

It was a string of simple things that, when put together, formed a terrible picture of corruption and oppression, of pitiless, merciless subjugation, inciting the fury that the people had already been forced to endure and swallow down for too long.

That was how the rebellion first began.

All the people had needed was a small spark, a little flicker of flame, for all their dissatisfaction with the current regime to ignite into glorious fire that roared high and mighty. And now, they refused to let that fire be extinguished.

And of course, all of this was the result of Qinghe's meticulous planning and manipulation behind the scenes finally bearing fruit.

By carefully gathering the verified accounts of the imperial family's misdeeds and allowing it to promulgate through preplanned and carefully chosen channels, the already abundant rumors against the imperial family intensified. This made the emperor order the imperial guards to crack down harder on those that spoke ill of him, which only seeded even more dissent in the people, causing more unsavory rumors about the imperial family and their tyrannical ways to spread.

As this vicious cycle kept repeating, the merchants and traders suddenly started raising their prices, claiming that the corrupt tax officials were asking for more and more bribes. They expressed their helplessness, saying that they were unable to do anything but increase the charges on their wares to keep their family fed.

Hearing this and being directly inconvenienced because of this issue, the common people began feeling that the stability of their everyday life was being threatened. Even those who had expressed neutral opinions regarding politics before slowly began joining the rebellion. After all, corruption causing the prices of food and other daily necessities to increase was no joke! It directly impacted their lives!

And just as the interior of the country was in turmoil, the nation's boundary wasn't spared either.

One by one, the generals started pulling back, allowing the country's borders to be in unrest and on the verge of being breached by the foreign threats. The generals all claimed the same thing―the funds allotted by the imperial treasury had all been stolen by the various officials on the way, rendering them unable to support the army with the remaining pittance that managed to reach them. Thus, they were forced to halt their defense due to lack of even the most basic of rations and being unable to repair or replace their damaged armor and weaponry.

As word of this spread, people only pointed more fingers at the a.s.sociated ministers and corrupt government officials. If another country invaded them at a time like this, what were they going to do? Was lining their own pockets really such an important thing at a time like this?!

But the emperor chose to ignore these voices that demanded answers of him. All the implicated courtiers were his people, and extricating them from this mess ended up leaving him with huge damages. Not to mention that the reputation of the imperial palace and all its supporters was being dragged through the mud due to this.

And still the dissenting went on and on, denouncing the imperial court for being dishonest, arrogant, incompetent among other things.

But the truth was that all of these problems had, in fact, been existing for a long time now. It was just that no one had dared to make a fuss about it, trying to keep things running so that their livelihoods would be safe.

For example, the generals had always had to supplement for the missing funds with their own wealth, paying out of their pockets while their household slowly declined. But what could they do? They couldn't very well let the common people fend for themselves against foreign attacks, now could they?

And so they had suffered.

The same applied for the merchants and traders as well. If they wanted to continue being able to do business in the empire, they had to grit their teeth and fork out the bribes as asked, even if they were forced to live increasingly frugal lives day by day due to the loss of profit.

And so they had to endure.

Nevertheless, things only got worse, and not better, as time pa.s.sed.

Even though the people tried to hold on and compromise more and more, the quality of their lives still kept declining. And being compelled to bear the pressure of the imperial family pressing down on them during all this only made everything all the more difficult for them to bear.

Taking advantage of this suppressed rage and indignation of the people, Qinghe had simply lit the fuse, letting them know about what all they could do and how they could coordinate their efforts so that this situation could be reversed.

He let Ping Nian and his people convince the populace that things could be even better. For example, the traders and merchants were informed of the increased projections of profits for businesses they could get if they were not as constrained by this tyrannical rule.

As for people of military lineages who fought loyally for the imperial family all these years, they were shown irrefutable proof of how the imperial family had been intending to turn on them out of baseless fear that they would betray their masters.

Merchants, farmers, traders, soldiers, artisans, scholars… Ping Nian and his people told each of these factions about all the ways their lives could become better if they escaped from this oppression. He explained that if they helped them in overthrowing the current reign, then they would only reap benefits.

With their self-interests and pa.s.sions thus roused, the people chose to finally stand up and cry injustice against their incompetent rulers.

The streets echoed with the roars of the angry crowds, like the battle cry of a huge beast with a million throats. The rebellion that had been brewing for a long while was finally underway in full swing.

....

The old baker woman hid under her cloak as she slowly walked forward on the dusty path, dawdling past the guards who had been sent by the palace to suppress the rebels.

These were dangerous times, where the ones who should have been protecting the citizens were the ones doing them harm instead.

My, how scary, thought the sweet old lady, shaking her head disapprovingly.

In one hand, she carried a basket of freshly baked bread, fragrant steam still wafting off of it in tantalizing curls. In her other hand, she clutched a crumpled little white flower.

Though it looked like a common wildflower that one would find growing anywhere by the roadside, it was in fact a mutation that could only take root in areas with very special conditions, specifically, places rich in spiritual energy. And in the current world, most of such areas fell within the domain of the cultivational sects.

The only way to distinguish between these two varieties would be to see whether the flower's soft yellow center was tinged with orange, like the color of a ripe mango. The flower in the old baker woman's hand was definitely one of these rare mutations.

But as if uncaring of this uniqueness, the old woman carelessly clutched it in her hand and hurried onward.

Reaching a large black iron gate, the baker woman looked up with deep eyes, firm resolution lining her wrinkled face.

As if from nowhere, a guard suddenly appeared outside the gate and approached the old woman. The woman wordlessly handed over the flower, and after examining it carefully, the guard opened the gates and let her in with a respectful bow.

Down the path leading from the gate was a huge manor. In one of the rooms inside this manor were several prominent guests.

Ping Nian looked over from his desk, his eyes wandering over this collection of influential people with a complicated look.

Perpendicular to the desk and a little ways away was a long table with chairs on either side. On one side sat a madam in her forties, arranging flowers in a vase out of boredom, while the friend seated beside her was talking eagerly about horticulture with the man across the table. This man was the official from the Ministry of Agriculture that Qinghe had rescued from a.s.sa.s.sins on the forested road. The official was now eagerly discussing methods of replanting certain types of flowering plants with the madam's friend.

At the end of the long table sat another man, a scrawny middle-aged courtier, eagerly devouring noodles from a large bowl, eating as if he were starving and it was his last meal.

Leaning against one wall was a muscular man wearing dented plate armor with a dull sheen. He was carefully wiping down a tomahawk with a cloth, his brows furrowed. He had just arrived and had yet to get out of his gear, choosing instead to stay here to observe the others in the room and get a read of the situation first.

By a chair near the windowsill sat a young man with a beautiful face, frowning in concentration as he moved a brush across a canvas. A small streak of paint smudged his chin, adding charm to his otherwise cold visage. Occasionally, he looked up at the room full of people with squinted eyes, then went back to painting.

And finally, reposed on a divan at the side laid Kong Min, his folded hands placed under his head as he rested lazily. By the foot of the divan and sprawled on the floor sat Lord Tai, happily chomping on a plate of juicy fruits.

When the old baker woman entered, this was the scene that greeted her.

The young man painting by the window looked up with obvious surprise on his face. "Grandma s.h.i.+? Have you also joined the rebels?"

The two women sitting at the table, Lord Tai lounging at the side, and Lord Ping Nian, all looked up at the old lady with the same astonished expressions.

With a bright smile and kind eyes, the baker woman nodded in reply to the young man. Then walking to the table, she placed her basket of fresh bread down and spoke in a warm tone, "I don't know of how much use I will be, but for now, sit down and have something to eat. I baked a batch of these just a while ago, so they are still warm."

As the aroma of freshly baked bread spread throughout the room, as if drawn over by an irresistible urge, the group of people slowly walked towards the table, converging around the basket. After they all pulled out a chair to sit and eat, Ping Nian called for a few more dishes to be brought, deciding to turn this into an early lunch.

Except for the Kong Min still drowsing at the side, the others all happily partook of the meal.

The moment he was done eating, the young man rushed back to his painting while sighing in his heart. Now he would have to add Grandma s.h.i.+ into the scene as well. So much work.

As for who this Grandma s.h.i.+ was… She was just a baker woman.

But because she was a kind old lady with a worldly air about her, people felt comfortable in spilling their secrets and worries to her, and Grandma s.h.i.+ listened intently to each of their stories and often had the perfect solution for their troubles. It could be a problem as simple as that of a youngster seeking advice to get over an unrequited love, or as weighty as a minister seeking to know how to protect one's family from the advances of a more powerful household—no matter the issue, Grandma s.h.i.+ could solve it all.

Soon, this propensity of hers made her somewhat famous among the citizens of the capital, especially n.o.bles who were looking for capable people to add to their side. It also helped that many powerful people who had taken to visiting her shop owed her favors for her helpful guidance.

And so, many people tried to request her to become their advisor, but Grandma s.h.i.+ refused them all, content to run her little bakery and bake fresh bread every morning for the nearby housewives and househusbands to come and buy.

But not many knew that Grandma s.h.i.+ was, in fact, the retired matriarch of a very powerful n.o.ble family.

In the capital and beyond, the s.h.i.+ household was known for remaining neutral for the most part, neither supporting nor denouncing any of the various political factions. It had been so even for the rebellion.

At least until now.

Due to their former matriarch's presence here, it was obvious that the s.h.i.+ household had finally chosen a side.

Since Grandma s.h.i.+ was here at Ping Nian's mansion, it naturally meant that she must have been sent an invite in the form of that mutated flower, indicating that she was useful for their cause and was trustworthy. The fact that she chose to accept it and come here already made her one of the rebellion's people now.

Soon, lunch was over and the group of people finally began to discuss.

"Have you heard from Lord Feng yet?" asked the official from the Ministry of Agriculture with mild anxiety tightening his face. "Have we received any new instructions?"

Ping Nian sighed. "His instructions will come when he thinks it is time. Until then, we will fill in the gaps and do what is expected."

Many of the people nodded.

The woman who had been discussing gardening with the official piped up, "It's easier said than done. The situation with the sea route where we were planning to send reinforcements to the northern territories is going sideways. The imperial army is in the process of creating a blockade with troublesome checkpoints. We can get through there, but we will need some extra time to modify the vessels to hide the troops better so that they won't be found out. But at the rate things are going, getting even that bit of additional time is going to be problematic."

The man wearing armor frowned. "I hear that we will be getting support from the Queen of the Seas. I don't know how Lord Feng managed it, but it's a very valuable avenue of support. You should make use of it."

The woman looked thoughtful, then nodded.

"If there are any other issues, then please report them now," Ping Nian called to them all.

The young man who was painting was the first to respond. In an absentminded tone, he continued moving his brush as he spoke, "I need some clarification regarding the publicizing of the information about the captives freed from the palace. It would be more impactful if a few of them came out to give their testimonies to the public. It would breed more sympathy towards the victims and result in increased outrage against the palace."

But Ping Nian shook his head. "Lord Feng has already asked us not to involve the victims since it could have a detrimental effect on their mental health. Do what you can with the information alone."

The young man nodded breezily, his attention seemingly focused on the canvas as he asked, "Then may I count on the famed Grandma s.h.i.+'s a.s.sistance in this matter?"

The old woman nodded with a sweet smile. "Of course. If I am able to, I'll be glad to help."

The armored man spoke up again. "How much longer should we generals manage the border like this? Making it look as if we aren't defending it, but having to do all the work in secret anyway… this method is very tiring for us. I am here to ask on behalf of all the generals guarding the borders, not just myself. If this goes on, we can't guarantee that we won't expose something at a crucial time due to exhaustion. We need this to end quickly."

Sighing, Ping Nian nodded. "I have already received instructions regarding this. If this drags on beyond your endurance, then I have received a.s.surance from Lord Feng that he will send people to take care of the border on his own and not burden you further."

The man wearing armor furrowed his brows and sunk into a contemplative silence.

With worry apparent in her gaze, the madam in her forties spoke up for the first time. "Lord Ping, there is something that I have to ask. How sure are you that Lord Feng will not interfere in the background or try to pull your strings after you have been enthroned?"

The others had also had this doubt at one time or another, but none of them had voiced it out loud like this.

Ping Nian looked at the madam with an almost amused expression as he rea.s.sured, "I don't think he is interested in ruling, even from the background. As we all know, he is not a part of the mortal world. He does not seek wealth or power as most would. Trying to gauge him by our standards will only bring us frustration, so there is no need to trouble ourselves over it."

Many showed thoughtful expressions as they reflected on these words, their expressions complicated.

Lord Tai finally broke this complex and layered silence as he said with a sharp look in his eyes, "This is a rare occurrence where someone from the cultivational world is working together with people from the mortal world to remove this blight of an emperor. We should utilize this chance properly. Anyway, there is no point in doubting him now. Things have almost come to a head with the rebellion. Adding to that, Lord Feng has never asked us anything in return or imposed any unreasonable conditions on us for his benefit even though he has had plenty of opportunities to do so. There is no reason to withhold our trust in him because of such baseless doubts. If we did so, then we wouldn't be any better than that paranoid emperor."

Everyone nodded, finally convinced by this reasoning, and Ping Nian silently let out a sigh in relief.

Now that that was resolved, the middle-aged courtier who had been eating noodles got up and stretched while patting his full stomach cheerfully. Seeing that the young man by the window was still painting, the courtier headed towards him to see just what he was doing.

But what he saw really made the courtier feel speechless.

He'd thought that the young man was drawing the scene in the room, but what he saw was…

"Are those frogs?" the courtier asked incredulously.

The young man didn't look up as he added a few touch-ups here and there. "Bravo for figuring it out. I see that your eyes are not only for show, my lord."

Indeed, painted on the canvas were a group of frogs, all of them alighted on a gathering of moldering lotus leaves, the wide and round leaves floating placidly on the surface of a muck-filled pool. In a small basket-like nutsh.e.l.l placed at the center were a bunch of dead flies. A particularly thin frog at the side was enthusiastically munching on one such fly, an expression of glee on its face.

Seeing this, the courtier had the strange feeling that this frog was supposed to represent him. But putting that aside…

"…Why a fly?" he asked.

The young man answered as if it was obvious, "Because, to my knowledge, frogs don't eat bread or noodles."

"…"

Hearing the young man putting it this way, it was obvious that that thin frog was really meant to be him! Then did it mean that the remaining frogs stood for the other people in this room? The courtier pondered upon this possibility with wry humor.

But before he had the chance to ask the young man about this, he saw something flash at the corner of his vision.

Just then, something silvery floated in through an open window, diverting the attentions of all the people in the room.

It was a little fish ensconced in a bubble of spiritual energy.

The lords and ladies who saw this showed open or hidden wonder in their faces, their eyes tracking the movements of the little fish as it swam through the air and made directly for Ping Nian.

Ping Nian opened his hand, palm up, and extended it towards the fish by habit. He had already gotten used to this by now.

The little silver fish floated down and settled onto the offered palm and flashed brighter. A pleasant voice sounded from the fish, commanding with a single word:

"Begin."

Then the fish dissolved into light and disappeared.

The expressions on the faces of all those present changed. Some showed antic.i.p.ation, some excitement, while others maintained their seriousness. One by one, they got up and began heading towards the door.

Since their Lord Feng had finally given the go-ahead, they were looking forward to finally going all out. It was, at last, the time for them to pull down that selfish emperor from his throne of rot and greed.

It was time for the old dynasty to fall.

...

Soon, the Yong Dynasty toppled under the combined efforts of Ping Nian and his faction of influential courtiers, and the Ping household was instated as the new imperial family, to overwhelming support from both the public and the aristocrats.

Due to a bit of information manipulation behind the scenes and the open way in which Ping Nian had led the rebellion, the transition from the old regime to the new was particularly smooth, with a minimum of friction from the populace.

But by the time all this happened, Qinghe and his group had long since left the capital.

Just as when they were traveling towards the palace, the four cultivators took their time, sightseeing and enjoying their journey.

While making their way through a stretch of forest, Qinghe spotted a small lake lying in a valley, its s.h.i.+mmering surface a bright azure blue.

Unable to hide his excitement at the thought of finally being able to take a dip in clear and clean waters, Qinghe suggested that they rest for a while by the lake. The others amusedly agreed and the group soon settled nearby.

"The Yong Dynasty really came to an end?" Jing Shui asked, trying to contain the trembling in his voice caused by the mixed emotions churning inside him. "What about my paren― I mean, the emperor and the empress?"

Qinghe looked at his friend with sympathy as he recounted, "The emperor fled with a portion of the army that still retained their loyalty towards him. From what I hear, Prince Jing Rui is the only other imperial family member with him. No one else wishes to throw in their lot with that pair while they are being pursued by the Sentinels. After all, they are implicated in that case with people being held captive in the palace and quite a few other matters. It's only a matter of time before they are caught and held accountable for their crimes.

"The empress went to take shelter in her maiden home and Prince Jing Hao escaped into the streets of the capital. I didn't bother to find out about the empress's situation, but I do know that Prince Jing Hao is not doing too well. None of his allies wish to take him in at this time, so I suppose he will have to turn to working like a commoner to survive for now. But if he turns out to be involved with something illegal, as I'm sure he is, then the Sentinels won't let him off so easily."

Hearing this, Jing Shui felt neither happy nor sad. Though they were his family by blood, not much familial affections were left between them now. Hearing about their fates only left him feeling numb.

But thinking about how he wasn't a prince anymore, about how he didn't need to fear being dragged back from now on… an intense sense of relief surged through him, almost bowling him over with its strength.

He was finally, finally free from that place.