Chapter 116

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Inside the Golden Hall of the imperial city, Min Changwen sat with eyes closed, listening to the gentle, lingering melodies of silk strings and chime bells played by court musicians. At the center of the hall, courtesans in flowing sleeves danced gracefully like orioles and swallows, their swaying forms elegant and captivating. A single glance cast back over the shoulder carried endless charm, drawing waves of applause.

Between the banquet tables, wine cups clinked and drinking games rang out. Amid the merriment, Min Changwen declined a goblet passed to him by a colleague. Opening his eyes, he looked toward the imperial dais, where the emperor was laughing and drinking with his two consorts. With a sweep of his sleeves, he rose and strode forward.

“Your Majesty!”

His voice rang out with authority, bringing silence to the surroundings. The emperor withdrew his arm from around the consort beside him and set the jade cup down on the imperial table.

“Minister Chang, what matter do you wish to raise? But if it is about what just occurred, then there is no need to speak another word.”

With a single line, he blocked all discussion.

Min Changwen clenched his teeth but still spoke:

“Yet the words of Lu Liangsheng were not without truth. In Heliang Prefecture, the starving masses are as vast as the sea, and cries of suffering rise like the tide. And Your Majesty still intends to construct that Grand Imperial Temple…”

Chen Shubao furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes.

“Minister Chang, have you perhaps had too much to drink? It seems the wine in the palace is more potent than Zhen thought. That Lu Liangsheng has long resided at the Minister’s estate, and the two of you share a deep friendship. It is only natural that you would speak on his behalf.”

The title shifted from “Minister Chang” to “Minister”, and Min Changwen sighed inwardly, unsure how to continue.

“Your Majesty, it is true I have some friendship with Lu Liangsheng… Alas, I have indeed had a bit too much. I am unwell and shall take my leave.”

“Granted.”

Chen Shubao watched the retreating figure depart from the hall. These past days, he had been constantly reproached by regional officials—this denied, that objected to—and he had long grown weary of it all. Now that he had thoroughly shut someone down, he even found himself smiling.

“Serves him right.”

The emperor stomped the floor with satisfaction and waved his sleeve. “Let the music resume!”

The chime bells rang out once more, drifting through the palace gates.

Outside the palace, white clouds floated like tufts of cotton, and birds traced arcs through the sky. Having exited the gates, Min Changwen called his carriage to a halt. Ignoring the coachman, he walked alone through the streets in his court robes, occasionally glancing back at the receding silhouette of the imperial city.

“Your Majesty, how could you be so blinded, so lost to reason…”

Muttering softly, he swept his sleeves and continued forward. Turning the corner ahead, the street grew livelier with more pedestrians. Not far off, in front of an inn, a man who appeared to be one of the staff came rushing out, clutching two wine jars in his arms. In his haste, he nearly collided with Min Changwen.

“Sorry, sorry—coming through, please make way—”

He dashed back into the inn. At the same time, two customers emerged, chatting and laughing as they stepped outside.

“This shop hasn’t had any real business for days.”

“Times are hard in Tianzhi. If I were the shopkeeper, I’d also go elsewhere to buy wine, just to keep a customer around.”

“Sigh… But that scholar really can drink.”

“To be that drunk, he must’ve suffered some sort of blow. Ah, forget it, times are tough for everyone…”

As they passed by Min Changwen and noticed the official robes he wore, they promptly fell silent and hurried away.

A scholar? Dead drunk?

Min Changwen lifted his gaze toward the second floor of the inn. Faintly, he heard the voice of the same inn servant from earlier, calling out, “Sir, here’s the wine you asked for!”

Could it be Lu Liangsheng…

Frowning, Min Changwen gathered his robes, stepped across the threshold, and entered. Before the innkeeper behind the counter could speak, he raised his hand and went straight upstairs.

The innkeeper saw the severe look on his face and the official’s attire and felt a chill in his heart. Please don’t let this be trouble… Dropping what he was doing, he quickly followed. A moment later, the official’s shout rang out:

“Lu Liangsheng!!!”

So it was true—the drunken scholar did know this official.

Min Changwen stepped over a mess of scattered chopsticks. His eyes fell on Lu Liangsheng, slumped at the dining table, surrounded by overturned wine flasks—some lying on the table, others scattered near the legs of the table. Even the chopstick holder had been knocked over and now dangled from the edge.

“Are you trying to drink yourself to death?!”

At the sound of the outburst, Lu Liangsheng raised his bleary eyes. Through the haze of wine, he managed to make out who it was. Swaying unsteadily to his feet, he clasped his hands in greeting.

“A street performer… can’t drink himself to death…”

Min Changwen kicked aside several wine jars by his feet with a loud clang, sending them tumbling across the floor. With beard and brows bristling in fury, he glared at the swaying scholar, his voice rising.

“You’ve lost your spirit! Just a minor setback, and you drown yourself in drink like this? Are you not ashamed before your mentor, Mr. Wang Shuhua?!”

Hehe…

Lu Liangsheng grinned and let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Minister Min… you don’t understand… You don’t understand… I studied diligently for four years, cautious and upright… always kind and courteous to others… but once I stood within the Golden Hall… how did I become some street performer conjuring tricks…? Even I don’t understand it myself…”

Across from him, Min Changwen parted his lips as if to speak, then stopped. He looked at the scholar—smiling or crying, it was hard to tell—and pressed his lips together tightly.

“His Majesty, he merely misspoke this time—”

“Minister Min, he was right. In truth, Liangshen is a street performer.”

As the words left his mouth, Lu Liangsheng moved at the same time. He snatched a calligraphy brush from the surrounding mess, stumbled two steps forward, and suddenly swept his wide sleeves aside.

Upstairs on the second floor, more than ten chairs screeched against the floor all at once, dragged aside with a grating zzzrrrk, shifting toward the balcony railings and clearing a wide open space.

The innkeeper and servant cried out and shrank back, startled.

“Wh-what’s going on here…?!”

All eyes turned to the scholar, who was muttering something under his breath, staggering as he walked with brush in hand. Suddenly, he picked up a wine jar at his feet and tipped it back, gulping mouthful after mouthful. Wine spilled past his lips, trailing down his neck, soaking his collar and the loose strands of hair draped over his chest.

In a flash, he flung the jar aside with a heavy thud, shattering it on the floor.

“Minister… in truth, wine is a wondrous thing… thick with spirit… it brings forth the haze of drunkenness that stirs the heart…”

Wine seeped into the cracks of the floorboards, mingling with the dark ink from the imperial exam that he had yet to finish. Lu Liangsheng began mumbling drunken verses as he dipped the brush into the ink, staining the floor with a bold blot. The tip of the brush danced across the wood, sketching a large head with flaring ears and fierce eyes like bronze bells.

Seeing this furiously scowling, bald-faced image, Min Changwen looked at the scholar—wild and unhinged now—and could not help but ask with concern:

“Liangsheng, what are you—”

“…Three cups without falling, six cups unshaken… each one drowning the sorrows in my heart…”

Lu Liangsheng ignored him. The brush in his hand faintly shimmered with light as he traced with dark green ink a broad chest, a stout waist, a bold and bare figure. With a few more flicks of the tip, he rendered baggy trousers, bare feet, and a belt coiled around the waist like a giant serpent.

“…Endless toil, for a monarch’s thousand-year glory…”

The brush paused. A massive wine jar formed in the outstretched hand of the towering figure. Lu Liangsheng kicked up a real jar from the floor, caught it in the crook of his arm with a swift, elegant hook.

Hahahaha——

“…Better to call upon the gods and share one grand drunkenness!”

Lu Liangsheng threw back his head and drank wildly. A moment later, he spewed the wine out in a great spray toward the enormous painting on the floor. A mist of wine filled the air, slowly drifting downward.

“Liangsheng, enough drinking. Come back to the residence with me. Let’s pay your teacher a proper visit first.”

Min Changwen skirted around the descending mist, but just as he finished speaking, panicked shouts suddenly rose from outside the building.

“What is that thing?!”

“—It’s coming, run! RUN—!”

BOOM!

The wooden inn shook violently. Min Changwen felt the sunlight that had been shining in dim as though something massive had blotted it out. A chill crept up his spine—like countless ants crawling up the nape of his neck. Every hair on his body stood on end.

With great effort, he turned his head—and what he saw from the second-floor railing made his breath catch. A colossal human leg passed by outside the building, towering to unimaginable heights. A second thunderous thud followed as another footfall shook the ground.

Min Changwen rushed to the railing. What met his eyes was a titanic figure, vast enough to bridge heaven and earth, striding across the street.

“This… this…”

The sight struck him dumb. He stumbled back two steps with a thump, falling onto the wooden floor, completely overwhelmed.

The innkeeper and the servant huddled together, crouched on the floor, pale-faced and mute from sheer terror.

After a moment, the innkeeper shakily crawled forward on all fours, begging the drunken scholar:

“Esteemed sir, mighty immortal… please… have mercy and withdraw your divine power…”

Lu Liangsheng was utterly drunk by now, still gripping the brush and scribbling something on the ground with unfocused eyes.

Meanwhile, the street—and countless others in the distance—had descended into chaos.

People scattered like ants beneath the enormous feet, scrambling to flee. Those inside their homes heard the tremors, opened their windows for a peek—and slammed them shut with a bang the moment they saw.

Roof tiles trembled and slid down in showers, shattering upon impact with the ground. And then, as though the giant had eyes, its foot avoided the fleeing citizens with eerie precision, stepping between them. The weight crushed the broken tiles, leaving a footprint more than three meters deep before it continued forward—heading straight toward the outline of the city wall ahead.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

In the distance, atop the capital’s fortress wall, soldiers standing guard felt the earth tremble—at first faintly, then more violently. They could no longer keep their footing, and the lines of spears and blades wavered and tipped.

“An earthquake?!”

“Quick—report to command… What’s over there?!”

One soldier pointed toward the city market outside the wall. But the moment he saw it, his eyes went wide and his lips began to quiver.

“A… a giant…”

In the direction of his gaze—amid the dense rooftops and rows of houses—a towering form that rivaled the city walls advanced with long strides, carrying a massive wine jar in one hand. Each step spanned several zhang, and in the blink of an eye, it was upon them.

“Run—!”

“Get out of there!!”

Ranks of soldiers fled in all directions. The moment they cleared the city tower, the oncoming giant raised his foot—and BOOM—brought it crashing down onto the tower.

A deafening roar like earth crumbling and stone shattering echoed through the air.

The city wall cracked and buckled, bricks bursting inward with a thunderous blast. Rubble rained down across the palace road and crimson walls. Smoke and dust surged skyward. Soldiers who had reacted fast enough crawled up from the ground, faces smeared in dust, and looked up to see the massive heel of the giant striding past them.

“Heh… haha…”

One of the soldiers, his face flushed red, broke into wild laughter. He glanced at his nearby comrades—then looked down at his trousers, now soaked through.

The ox-horn horns at the gates blared. Messengers mounted horses and galloped off in all directions.

“Jianchun Gate has fallen!”

“A monster has broken into the palace—alert His Majesty immediately!!”

At Donghua Gate of the Eastern Palace, officials and guards—shaken by the tremors—hurriedly surrounded and shielded Chen Jing as they emerged, only to freeze in shock as they saw a towering silhouette stroll past the high outer palace wall.

BWOOO—

The mournful cry of the ox-horn echoed endlessly. Inside Chengyun Hall, atop the imperial dais, the Emperor was speaking with Zhang Lihua. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the dancers performing in the center of the hall.

“You and this Lu Liangsheng have some history?”

The imperial consort nestled beside him—sharp and perceptive—had long seen through his jealous tone. She gently held his hand.

“Your Majesty, I mentioned before—when I returned and was nearly assassinated, it was a certain gentleman who saved me. I even told you his name, it’s just that Your Majesty didn’t remember.”

“Then why did he gift a jade pendant to Jing’er?”

“That I’m not certain of. Perhaps he simply took a liking to the child.”

At this, Zhang Lihua looked slightly worried. “That Mr. Lu is truly a man of great ability. Can Your Majesty really bear to lose someone like him?”

Watching this exquisitely beautiful woman speak on another’s behalf made the emperor’s jealousy spike again. Chen Shubao pulled back his hand, his sleeve flaring with a sharp snap.

“Hmph. Which official in this court doesn’t have ‘great ability’? If he really has what it takes, then let him come and smash this Golden Throne of mine—”

But just as the word “smash” left his lips, his imperial buttocks suddenly jolted on the dragon throne, nearly sending him tumbling to the floor. Below the throne, civil and military officials—and even the dancing courtesans in long fluttering sleeves—staggered and collapsed into a chaotic pile.

“What’s happening?!”

Holding his crown in place, Chen Shubao was helped up by Zhang Lihua, only for a panic-stricken guard to come bursting into the hall.

“Your Majesty… outside… there’s… there’s a—”

The guard flailed and gestured wildly, trying to explain but clearly at a loss for words. Chen Shubao, with the officials trailing behind, strode to the palace doors. And there, in the distance—on the wide plaza—a towering figure over ten zhang tall turned its head slightly and glared back with furious eyes.

Then, it started sprinting directly toward Chengyun Hall. The guards and soldiers who had gathered around were thrown into utter disarray by the earth-shaking steps, staggering and stumbling in all directions.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

At the doors of the hall, someone screamed, others wept in terror—but most simply stood there, mouths agape, too stunned to move. Chen Shubao felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His eyes were wide as saucers, his jaw slack, unable to close. Finally, he let out a shriek: “Protect the Emperor!!”

Clutching his crown, dragging his dragon robes, he turned and fled back inside the hall.

“Summon the National Guardian Venerable Master—!!”

Outside, the giant raised the wine jar in his hand.

White clouds drift leisurely across the heavens.

On the second floor of the inn, the brush tip came to a halt. The din and clamor from the street below rose up. Lu Liangsheng, holding the brush in his hand, looked at the enormous humanoid figure drawn on the floor. He lifted the wine jar and took a deep swig.

The rippling wine carried a tranquil air, as though stirring up echoes of the past, surging into his mind.

“Liangsheng, you want to take the imperial examination and become the top scholar, eh?” Old Grandfather Lu sat at the village entrance basking in the sun. Sunlight filled his gaping mouth—few teeth remained.

By the hearth, a mild-tempered man stoking the flames had his face lit red by the firelight.

“Our family can’t afford to raise a scholar.”

“Big Brother, your writing is so beautiful! Write another one, okay?” His little sister leaned on the table’s edge, her wide eyes just as beautiful.

A female ghost in a red dress floated down from the night sky, curtsied and said: “This humble one, Nie Honglian, greets the young master.”

Beneath a parasol tree, an old man held a scroll, gazing at the autumn leaves drifting to the ground.

“Liangsheng, here you treat the people kindly and cultivate virtue. But this is but a corner of the world. If you were to enter court and serve as an official, only then would it be true great virtue, true great endeavor.”

“This world is naught but a few hills and valleys.”

A toad clad in a cotton-padded jacket rolled over with a snort.

“Goody two-shoes!”

In the blood-red plains of Heliang Prefecture, corpses littered the ground like dust. One after another, silhouettes knelt, kowtowing endlessly.

“Immortal, we beg you—save us.”

The most common plea was: “I don’t want to die. I want to live.”

Upon the walls of Liyang City, the plump prefect drew the sharp sword from his waist, raised it high and brought it down: “This day, I slay my own wife and dine with you all!!”

The past flickered like light and shadow. A scholar stood upon a high platform and spoke: “All I wish is for fewer to die here.”

Amidst endless falling snow, he walked one step at a time into the capital, as though stepping into another world.

For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze.

In the grand hall, there was music and dance, and warm lantern light cast a glow. Seated upon the dragon throne, that man lifted his chin slightly and looked down.

“Come, show Zhen a little trick.”

In the next instant, Lu Liangsheng flung aside the wine jar. The brush in his hand was hurled forward, striking the massive painting and splashing dark ink across it.

“—To hell with you!”

Just as his voice rang out—

The towering figure vanished. And the massive wine jar came crashing down upon the grand hall.

Boom!

A thunderous crash shook the entire palace.

The terrified emperor stiffened, spasmed a few times, then rolled his eyes and collapsed upon the imperial steps.

That afternoon, the entire palace—and the city around it—plunged into chaos.