Chapter 331: Affairs of the Imperial Palace

Luoyang, deep within the Imperial Palace.

The Han Ling Emperor Liu Hong paced anxiously back and forth in his Qin Gong, like a trapped beast.

The Yellow Turban rebels were massive, beacon fires everywhere, reports fluttered in like snowflakes, each one an urgent plea for aid, unsettling his mind and making him unable to sit or lie still.

He abruptly stopped, intending to act, but a deep sense of helplessness seized him, and he could only let out a resigned sigh before sinking back onto the imperial desk.

He forced himself to stay calm, reached for a memorial, hoping to find some countermeasure.

However, the first memorial he opened was like a spark tossed into a cauldron of oil, instantly reigniting the anger he had barely suppressed, and burning even hotter!

On the memorial, it was submitted by the physician Zhang Jun of Zhongshan, its language fierce and straight to the core:

"I think that Zhang Jiao was able to raise troops and incite chaos, and the people followed, because the source lies with the Ten Constant Attendants and their ilk, who placed fathers, brothers, sons, in‑laws, and guests in official posts across provinces, extorting wealth, plundering the common folk. The people's grievances have nowhere to be reported, so they conspire and become thieves. The Ten Constant Attendants should be beheaded, their heads displayed at the southern outskirts to appease the people. Moreover, send envoys to announce this to the world; no armies are needed, and the great bandits will disappear on their own."

Ten Constant Attendants! Zhang Jiao!

One is the one he most trusts, the other is the one he despises most at this moment! They have actually colluded together?!

"Bang!" Liu Hong sprang up from the Dragon Throne, veins in his forehead pulsing, and slammed the memorial hard onto the desk, roaring angrily at the guards before the hall:

"Go! Bring the Ten Constant Attendants to me at once!"

The guards dared not delay, and sprinted off with the order.

Soon, the Ten Constant Attendants led by Zhang Rang hurried into the hall, each drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

Seeing Liu Hong's face ashen and his expression furious, they were filled with startled doubt and fear, but aside from the most trusted Zhang Rang, the others held their breath, bowed their heads, and dared not utter a sound.

Zhang Rang had served in the palace since his youth, essentially watching Liu Hong grow up; Liu Hong even once said, "Zhang the Constant Attendant is my lord," indicating the depth of his trust.

At this moment, only he dared to press on, stepping forward and, with a tone of concern and fear, cautiously asking, "Your Majesty... what provokes such anger? Please take care of the Dragon Throne!"

Liu Hong did not speak immediately; his cold, knife‑sharp gaze swept slowly over the ten men, the murderous intent in it making Zhang Rang and the others feel as if they had fallen into an ice cave, truly sensing the terror of death.

Their minds raced, frantically pondering what recent deeds had incurred Heaven's wrath and people's resentment, provoking the emperor's fury.

Yet upon closer thought, the corruption, framing of loyal officials, and sale of offices they had committed—any single one would merit execution! This made them even more terrified.

Amid the suffocating silence, Liu Hong finally moved.

He seized the memorial on the desk and slammed it forcefully before Zhang Rang and the others, his voice low yet stormy:

"You all may read it yourselves!"

Zhang Rang's heart gave a sudden jolt; he quickly bent down, picked up the memorial, and began to read hastily.

The further he read, the more horrified he became; the memorial's words were like knives, directly accusing them as the root of the Yellow Turban chaos and demanding their heads be displayed publicly!

But having long navigated palace intrigue, his acting was already masterful; the expression that flashed across his face was not fear but extreme bewilderment and incomprehension, eventually turning into indignant grief over the slander.

He let out a 'Thump' and was the first to kneel, his voice trembling with sobs, raising the memorial as if cradling a hot potato:

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, see clearly! This... this is slander! A colossal slander!"

With his kneel, the nine behind him—Zhao Zhong, Feng Xu, Duan Gui and the others—though unaware of the memorial's specifics, instantly reacted, stripping off their official caps and boots, pounding their heads on the ground, creating a clattering roar of cries:

"We are wronged!"

"Your Majesty, we are steadfastly loyal to you; heaven and earth can bear witness!"

"Surely someone has framed us, seeking to eliminate us for their own pleasure!"

Zhang Rang went full‑throttle on his performance, tears streaming like rain, his mournful voice saying, "Your Majesty! We eunuch officials, crippled bodies, have not been abandoned by you, allowed to serve at your side—this is a great heavenly grace; how could we harbor any dissent, committing such a disaster to the nation? Every line of this memorial pierces the heart, aiming to doom us to death!"

He continued, bowing heavily, "If Your Majesty believes these slanders, we are willing to die at once to prove our innocence! We only ask that you order us into the Luoyang Prison for rigorous interrogation! We are ready to pour all our family wealth into the war chest, assisting Your Majesty in quelling the Yellow Turbans, to demonstrate our loyalty!"

His tearful, impassioned performance, combined with the nine behind him wailing and kowtowing in waves, created a tragic tableau of a thousand‑year‑old injustice.

They were gambling, betting that Liu Hong would not admit that his trusted men were parasites of the state!

Sure enough, watching this group of courtiers who usually fawned over him but now acted "aggrieved" like children—especially seeing the Constant Attendant Zhang's heart‑wrenching demeanor—Liu Hong's fury strangely dwindled by more than half, replaced by a trace of irritation and impatience.

He waved his hand, his tone much softer:

"Enough! All rise! What decorum is this!"

He looked at the ten still on the ground, sighed, "I never said I would punish you. I only wanted you to see this memorial."

Zhang Rang and the others, hearing this, felt a great weight lift from their hearts, realizing this hurdle was cleared, but the performance must continue.

They continued sobbing, refusing to stand.

Liu Hong, helpless, added, "Put on your caps, wear your boots! Be as you were before, as you will be henceforth—just serve me peacefully!"

"We... thank Your Majesty's great grace!" Only then did the Ten Constant Attendants, as if pardoned, wipe their "tears" while fumbling to don caps and boots, standing up again.

Only their posture was now even more deferential and humble than before.

In their hearts they silently thought: after this, we must trouble Zhang Jun!

Liu Hong did not know what they were thinking, nor that his blind trust would harm a loyal official; he opened his mouth, about to order the ten to withdraw, lest his gaze further irritate him.

However, just as he was about to speak—

A sudden anomaly erupted!

The Ancient Jade Pendant hanging at his waist inexplicably began to levitate, detaching itself from his robe!

The pendant's surface shimmered, emitting a faint hum as if drawn by an invisible magnet; its sturdy cord stretched taut, the jade tip pointing unwaveringly toward a direction!

Almost simultaneously, Liu Hong jerked his head up, gazing along the pendant's direction, as if a pulse from deep within his bloodline had been awakened.

An indescribable, both familiar and alien, radiant sword intent flashed like a startled swan—brief yet clearly perceived by him.

His pupils suddenly contracted, his face instantly awash with extreme shock and disbelief; almost involuntarily, his voice shifted with excitement:

"Chi Xiao?!"

This earth‑shattering utterance, like a thunderclap, rang in the ears of Zhang Rang and the others, making them instantly forget the earlier "aggrievement" and their scheming, all

Chi Xiao Sword?! The Chi Xiao Sword of the ancestor who slew the White Snake! That legendary, once‑vanished divine blade symbolizing the Han Empire's Destiny, actually

Liu Hong at this moment could not even concern himself with the Ten Constant Attendants' petty "issues"; the massive thrill struck him.

He burst out from behind the imperial desk, too hurried to adjust his robes, and sprinted toward the hall's exit, his gaze fixed on the direction he had just sensed.

While dashing, he didn't look back, shouting at the still‑stunned Zhang Rang and the others, as well as the guards outside, issuing orders in a near‑roaring voice, his tone brimming with urgency and fervor:

"Send people! Send them to me at once!"

"Chi Xiao appears! Destiny reveals! Send me to fetch it! Search all of Luoyang City and bring it to me!"