Chapter 352: Raise the Banner and Rebel

The palace maids and eunuchs serving in the Taiji Palace all exited the hall in orderly fashion—saving their lives was paramount. This was hard-won wisdom, forged from the blood and lives of countless predecessors.

When the old emperor goes mad, keep your distance—far away. Better to be punished afterward than cut down on the spot.

Thus, only Qiu Defu remained inside the hall.

Others could retreat; he could not.

Others could hide; he could not.

As Grand Eunuch of the Inner Palace, the old emperor's most trusted man, the greater the power and glory he received, the greater the pressure and danger he must bear.

At critical moments, he must charge forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with the old emperor.

"Your Majesty, guard your health! Prince Chu shows no loyalty to his sovereign, no filial piety to his father—he is disloyal and unfilial! Your Majesty must not let such a traitor who betrays his ancestors harm yourself!"

Qiu Defu spoke with blood in every word, clinging to the old emperor's legs, weeping uncontrollably, tears and snot streaming, wishing he could take the old emperor's place.

"Traitors and rebels—all of them traitors and rebels! I will slaughter every last one of these traitors and rebels!"

"Yes, all of them are rebels. Your Majesty should kill them all. Your Majesty must preserve your health—do not harm yourself over these petty rebels. The empire cannot do without Your Majesty; the court cannot do without Your Majesty. Without Your Majesty, the world will fall into chaos!"

Qiu Defu was exceptionally skilled at delivering emotional reassurance.

Under his heartfelt, repeated soothing words, the old emperor gradually calmed—though he still clutched his sword, ready to snap again and slash at anyone nearby.

"He dares call me foolish and dim-witted, says I'm worse than a three-year-old child, claims I lack the bearing of an emperor, that I have no courage or responsibility. He seeks death!"

"Your Majesty speaks truly—Prince Chu has clearly grown tired of life."

"Draft an edict: Prince Chu's mad ravings are clear signs of demonic possession. For the sake of the court, the imperial clan, and the people, strip him of his princely title, demote him to Prince of Chujiang!"

A single character's difference—yet a world apart in status.

Prince Chu was a Prince of the Blood; Prince Chujiang is merely a Commandery Prince—all privileges and regulations must be downgraded.

Qiu Defu immediately accepted the order, personally took up the brush to write the edict, stamped it with the imperial seal, and sent it through the Political Affairs Hall to be proclaimed nationwide.

The Political Affairs Hall: …

There was no reason to block the emperor's demotion of Prince Chu to Prince Chujiang. After all, it benefited the court—the civil officials were all pleased. Though Prince Chu had insulted the old emperor with great satisfaction, he was a royal kinsman, inherently at odds with the civil officials. No petition could ever win him acceptance into their ranks.

Stamp it. Proclaim the edict.

Before the edict even reached Prince Chu's hands, the old emperor issued a second decree: demoting the newly minted Prince Chujiang to Duke of Zhenguo.

Even his princely title was stripped away!

Clearly, that memorial had inflicted deep psychological wounds on the old emperor.

Court officials speculated that Prince Chu's final fate would be demotion to commoner status, then imprisoned at the imperial mausoleum.

Given the old emperor's vengeful, narrow-minded nature, this was entirely plausible—perhaps even within this year, he would achieve his ultimate goal of sending Prince Chu to the mausoleum.

Just as everyone wore expressions of pity, watching Prince Chu's downfall unfold, Prince Chu delivered another crushing blow to the entire realm.

Prince Chu has rebelled!

Prince Chu issued a proclamation calling for the purification of the emperor's court—he has raised his banner in open rebellion!

In barely half a month, he had seized two prefectures and eight counties. His army surged forward like a breaking dam, advancing south and east, seizing more territory. Wherever he went, imperial troops fled in panic, officials opened city gates to surrender.

Prince Chu's army had become the righteous force; the people lined the roads to welcome him.

News reached the capital. The court officials: …

What?

How could this suddenly happen?

Some court officials cursed Prince Chu as a traitor and rebel, disloyal and unfilial.

Others suddenly understood: no wonder Prince Chu had submitted that memorial, daring to publicly insult the old emperor. His wolfish ambition was now plain for all to see.

Everything had been planned. That memorial was the first shot fired in his rebellion. He knew the old emperor would break down, would demote him—and seized the moment to raise his banner. Uninformed commoners would sympathize with him. People naturally pity the weak.

The demoted, oppressed Prince Chu became the people's image of the weak. A royal prince on the brink of death, rebelling merely to survive—what fault is there in that?

It is the old emperor who has acted wickedly, ignoring the people's suffering, even refusing to spare his own kin. To speak truth is to invite death—how dangerous it is to tell the truth these days!

The people's lives are unbearable, yet the old emperor still recklessly torments them.

Rebellion! Rebellion!

Only by rebelling against the old emperor can the world find peace.

The court's and the old emperor's influence in the south was already limited. Coupled with the propaganda of Prince Chu's scholars and strategists, the people now believed Prince Chu was the true Son of Heaven, while the old emperor in the palace was a demon dragon who had stolen the throne. A demon dragon that should have died fifty years ago, who seized power through deceit—now, it was time to restore the throne to its rightful heir.

Done!

Even the banner of legitimacy has been raised. The appeal, the destruction—it doubled instantly.

In this age, after a century of relentless indoctrination by scholars, people firmly believed in legitimacy, lived by it. Prince Chu was the legitimate heir, destined by heaven, proven by celestial omens.

But what proof is there that the old emperor is a demon dragon?

The military coup that deposed the crown prince—that is the clearest proof. A true dragon, a true Son of Heaven, would never depose a crown prince with legitimate claim.

Chaos! Chaos!

Wise men had long warned: deposing the crown prince through military coup was the worst possible move—disrupting hearts, disordering order, plunging the realm into chaos, and inevitably bringing retribution.

And now, mere months later, the retribution has come!

Without the deposition of the crown prince, Prince Chu would never have dared raise rebellion now. But with it, his rebellion was timely—and followers flocked to him.

After the deposition, hearts trembled, order collapsed, and the realm desperately needed someone to restore balance. Only by restoring order could the people's hearts be stabilized.

Prince Chu seized the moment, seized the people's hearts. He bravely stepped forward, shouldering the burden of restoring order. His sword drawn, his advance unstoppable. Wherever he went, all submitted; resistance was rare.

The old emperor stared at the battle reports, the memorials from local officials—all bad news.

Two prefectures lost, three prefectures lost, provincial capitals lost, the entire southeast lost…

Crash!

All the memorials were flung to the ground.

The old emperor's cheeks flushed a sickly, unnatural red.

"My loyal ministers, do you have any solutions?"

The old emperor finally remembered his court officials and summoned a small court assembly. All officials of the Ministry rank and above attended; nobles sent representatives. They stood on either side of the Taiji Palace's main hall, eyes downcast, noses straight, not a word spoken.

Jiang Tu, as Vice Minister of Public Works, was eligible to attend this small assembly. He stirred with ambition, several times nearly stepping forward, hoping to seize military command in this moment.

He had money now—but what he lacked was military authority.

If he could hold military command, combined with financial control, who would dare look down on him again? Who would dare call him a corrupt flatterer and villain?