Chapter 558

The King's orders were enforced; as soon as he spoke, someone immediately took command and left. It looked like the matter would be settled soon, but the elderly Grand Minister of Rites, in his seventies, stretched out his trembling hand, unable to utter a full sentence, shook for a

The King is utterly innocent, "Our grain shortfall is huge; the rebel king's harem surely can't be supported. Seeing how simply Minister Cheng put it, I thought he had the capability!"

The Marquis of Dongdu began walking behind the King; now seeing this grand scene he went blind, made a left turn and repeatedly ordered his subordinates to attend to the King's travel security.

What sort of person is the King's cousin? He only echoes the King's mischief. "If it's no, it's no; Minister Cheng's old man has too big a temper!"

The King deeply agreed, whispering softly: "Ah! At seventy, how can you still be so unsettled?"

The officials: ……

Wei Shen resembled a treacherous minister, earnestly urging from the side: "Your Highness should sympathize with the frail body and spirit of the old minister; let Minister Cheng return to rest today."

The King waved his hand generously: "Exempt him from today's visit to the imperial tombs! Someone! Send Minister Cheng back to his residence! As for the uncle's harem, … wait until he wakes and ask him if he wants it. Ah!" Putting on an air of the King truly being democratic and reasonable, you're dizzy now; the King's good temper will wait until you wake to speak again.

This time it's fine; the palace gate is extremely quiet.

Right now everyone is extremely grateful that their dead mouth didn't immediately follow along in echoing; look at Minister Cheng, it's terrible! Bai Li Jun's harem seems impossible to shake off.

The King smiled and looked around: "Anything else, gentlemen? If not, let's set off; it's already late."

The officials all shook their heads; the King nodded in relief and, followed by the personal guards, got onto the carriage.

Gao Chang only then began wiping the sweat from his forehead; his premonition came true—this person is not easy to deal with.

He's simply a shameless scoundrel!

The King's departure from the city to sacrifice at the imperial tombs differs from previous emperors' outings: there is no guard of honor clearing the way, nor any reliance on bearers of various ritual implements, umbrellas, or fans—only his steel warriors who have undergone the baptism of two grand reviews.

After entering the city, their sole duty is to protect the King's Owl Riders; naturally they follow him in and out, and at night they are stationed in the palaces around the King's sleeping quarters. The guard duty for this trip to the Li Mountain imperial tombs is also carried out by the Owl Riders.

This is the highest-specification honor guard in the world; it can be said to be the strongest honor guard composed of carbon-based life forms of this era.

Each has been on the battlefield; each has killed hundreds, even thousands of people.

When they wielded killing weapons in place of the imperial honor guard, the owl‑masked riders on black wind horses stepped with roughly equal pace through Chang'an's streets; the commoners kneeling on the street didn't know what to feel, while the civil officials following behind only sensed oppression.

The suffocating sense of oppression filled every limb and bone!

The Marquis of Dongdu had no time to have the King clear the streets with water, lay down yellow earth, or even notify the populace to avoid; he only gave the cavalry two quarters of an hour beforehand to go clean the streets.

Thus the townspeople who thought the Chang'an turmoil was over and took to the streets were all pressed in place by the cavalry. It wasn't harsh on them; they were merely told not to move, and could resume activity after the King passed.

The commoners kneeling at the street edge saw that the soldiers made no many demands on them; whenever there was any movement, each and every one stole a glance. "What spectacle haven't we, the people of Chang'an, seen? As long as we live long enough, we've seen the holy carriage countless times."

But today's spectacle they truly haven't seen.

Black, towering warhorses clad in matching armor; the riders on them are armed down to their fingers, the face‑covering patterns weird and exaggerated, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes—making people dare not stare, quickly averting their gaze.

The horses' steps are uniform; as the troop moves, it's level and straight? I don't understand, but it can be expressed as shocking.

Not daring to look directly at the riders' eyes, they glanced elsewhere and discovered the weapons in the riders' hands were not the halberds and spears of the honor guard—some were long swords, some long lances—uniformly polished to a bright gleam flashing cold light; though varied in form, at a glance they are clearly genuine personal weapons.

At this moment, it seemed as if Chang'an had come to a standstill; only the orderly, muffled sound of hooves on the street and the cold noise of armor rubbing remained. An intangible pressure permeated the air; the civil officials crammed into the carriage by the King silently withdrew their gazes.

How could the people of Chang'an have ever seen such a grand scene!

They recalled the parade depicted in the northern border newspaper… turns out it lacked embellishment, it was actually realistic?! The ministers' hearts felt a cool breeze for the hundredth time; with this strength, the dukes of Shangdang and Qinghe quickly kneeling makes sense.

When the troop reached the city gate, the defenders had already been replaced by the Xuan‑armored northern border troops; the soldiers had long since knelt on the ground, and the King's carriage proceeded without stopping out of the city. The last cavalry unit vanished at the gate; Chang'an city hit the start button again, and the onlookers bustling about heatedly discussed the northern king's pomp—this time a formidable figure has appeared! They reckon they won't even need to wait until night to seize the teahouse hot‑search list.

The civil officials, intimidated by the cavalry surrounding the carriage, dared not speak; seven or eight of them packed into one carriage communicated the whole way by glances, thinking the King inside must be immensely pleased, but actually not.

This fellow in the carriage rests his head on his mighty beast, each holding a carrot in their mouths and gnawing. The beast chews with relish, happily enjoying it; the King is purely bored. Owl Riders surround him front, back, left, and right; he has no burdens.

After the carriage passed the city gate, the King, having looked at the kneeling northern border troops, suddenly began to sigh.

"Cousin, logically after taking Chang'an we should reward the cavalry, but this whole way we haven't gained a single spoil—expenditure exceeds income. The grain won't last long; I haven't let Zhuti transport grain from Youzhou anymore, and Youzhou can't be scraped for more either; we still have to save up for the campaign against the Xiongnu and Xianbei."

Wei Shen really has experience: "Rewarding the troops need not be like before with huge silver gifts; sharing a bowl of wine works too." Poverty has its own ways of living; Changzhou is even poorer than the King.

The King shifted his posture, stuffing all the carrots into the mouth of the gluttonous beast, thinking that seventy or eighty thousand people drinking a bowl is fine, and hosting a victory feast is no small number; Bai Li Jun left him only a ruined mess and an empty treasury.

As the carriage rolled, the light gauze curtain flew up; the King saw outside his heavily invested Owl Riders—however you look, they're extremely flashy!

The heavy metal on their bodies gives a fully chilling sense of oppression; they have just experienced a great battle, seen blood, and the killing intent shoots up to the heavens. So, … is this reasonable?

With such an army, how could he be poor?

It seems the policy of not taking even a thread from the populace needs to be set aside for now; poverty makes the King's stance flexible.

"I've come up with a good idea: the scholars and wealthy merchants of Chang'an are gathered; I ought to give them a chance to show their loyalty, right? Let the cavalry go door‑to‑door to invite them."

Wei Shen spoke matter‑of‑factly: "That batch of grain you tricked from your royal uncle was probably scraped locally in Chang'an; are you sure you can still squeeze out any profit?"

The King was displeased and sat up with a whoosh.

"How dare they show favoritism?! Outrageous!

"Just supporting Bai Li Jun, regardless of whether I live or die?"

Wei Shen: ……

The Great Jin is awesome because of you.