Chapter 8: He Shouldn’t Die? Then Why Don’t You Die Instead?

Tang Yu kept clutching at his chest, gripping his robes so tightly that his right hand turned pale, his face flushed red, and he glared fiercely at the assembly of officials before him.

Pointing at the gathered civil and military officials, he no longer cared for imperial protocol and shouted angrily, "He shouldn't have died?! Then should you have died?!"

"No, no... No, Your Majesty, it has nothing to do with me," one stammered.

"Or is it you who should die?!"

"Your Majesty, I... I don't know... I don't know," another replied in fear.

"The so-called love for country and people you speak of is nothing but nonsense—is this what you call patriotism? From the moment I ascended the throne, you began to treat human lives as worthless! Are people nothing but ants in your eyes? What are you, then?! Are you an ant? Or you? Should you die, or is it you who should die?!"

Tang Yu seemed possessed, rushing into the hall and grabbing an official at random, demanding answers.

Ye Yue did not intervene; Murong Yun likewise made no move, their faces full of sorrow.

They were ministers of the court, devoted to their country and people. Hearing these words, how could they not understand? Those families had endured untold suffering, hidden from the world.

They knew the story: the woman whose innocence was stolen, her family, overwhelmed with rage and unable to seek justice, all hanged themselves from the phoenix tree in their own courtyard. Her husband, seeking revenge, was crippled, his legs broken, his eyes gouged out, left a shell of a man.

What despair must have driven that family to such ends? What agony did that husband endure, yet still wish to report to the authorities?

But he knew, officials protected each other, and the common folk were powerless.

Tang Yu's voice swept through the Golden Throne Hall like a tidal wave, and no one dared respond—each feared for their own safety, scrambling to protect themselves.

He was mad, yet his madness commanded respect.

Though he sat upon the throne, he wept for the people—this was a true ruler of Great Xia, a sovereign who genuinely cared for his subjects!

"Your Majesty," Ye Yue said softly, her brows furrowed in concern, as she gently reminded him.

Tang Yu wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, staring at the useless officials before him.

"So who should die? I want to see who still pleads for this wretch—whoever pleads dies!"

"Why are you silent now? Weren't you just begging for this dog’s life? Go on, plead!"

The civil and military officials hung their heads, silent—even Su Li, who moments before had seemed confident, was now subdued. Who dared speak?

Last night nearly a thousand were slaughtered; today, if anyone dared stand out, tomorrow their head would hang from the city gate.

Tang Yu had won, but the victory was far harder than he had imagined.

"Take them away!"

With a sweeping gesture, he ordered the imperial guards to remove the offenders.

He stood before the dragon throne, hands clasped behind his back, his bearing majestic.

"Prime Minister Su, the appointment of a new Deputy Minister of the Imperial Clan Affairs is hardly your concern. But I have a question for you—should he die?"

Su Li’s teeth ground audibly, and at this point, even if he wanted to protect Zhou Cheng, it was impossible. He had never imagined the young emperor would act so decisively.

"He... he should die."

Tang Yu’s eyes flashed with brilliance, and he laughed heartily. "Good."

Su Li was indeed a wily old fox, unflustered even in crisis. Could he have another trick up his sleeve?

Ye Yue sensed something amiss, as did Murong Yun.

Seeing the situation shift, Murong Yun spoke, "Your Majesty, I believe…"

He was about to suggest that the emperor end the court session, since a warning had already been served—there was no need to push further.

Su Li interrupted, "Wait."

He smiled at Tang Yu, but the meaning behind that smile was inscrutable, laden with hidden intent.

"Your Majesty, since the position of Deputy Minister of the Imperial Clan Affairs is vacant, I have an excellent candidate. Coincidentally, the posts of Commander of the Palace Guards, Chief Historian, and Provincial Inspector are also open. Why not discuss all these appointments now?"

Not retreating, but pressing forward, seizing the moment—a clever tactic.

Tang Yu couldn't help but praise the maneuver. With such skill, Su Li deserved his reputation as an old fox.

Had Tang Yu been faced with this situation, he would have chosen the same approach.

To strip power, to continue stripping power.

The Commander of the Palace Guards controlled the imperial guards and closely protected the emperor’s safety.

The Chief Historian compiled the official histories, wielding tremendous influence.

The Provincial Inspector oversaw all county magistrates across Great Xia—if this post were controlled, the people's voices might never reach the throne.

Su Li’s move was clearly intended to thoroughly monitor Tang Yu, ensuring public sentiment could not reach the emperor.

Previously, Tang Yu would have agreed, and then, he would be helpless—crying out to the heavens and earth with no answer.

The people’s voices would be silenced; the populace would suffer.

Several ministers quickly caught on, eyes brightening, immediately voicing support.

"I agree, Zhou Cheng deserves death, but these posts must not remain vacant. Even a single day’s vacancy means countless affairs will pile up—day after day, Great Xia will fall into chaos."

"I too have excellent candidates."

Tang Yu narrowed his eyes—they had abandoned Zhou Cheng, and now sought to cultivate others. Indeed, these positions had been vacant for too long. Someone had to fill them.

But...

Tang Yu was caught in a dilemma. If he refused, it would be a dereliction of duty; if he agreed, he would be playing into their hands.

Su Li, seeing Tang Yu’s hesitation, smiled and pressed, "Your Majesty?"

He could not afford to retreat. He could not understand why the young emperor had suddenly become so astute—several moves had left him at a loss.

If he retreated now, how could he command respect?

Tang Yu was so furious he nearly punched the old fox. Damn old man, if this were modern times, I’d have beaten you already.

Ye Yue anxiously glanced outside the palace, seeing the gates tightly shut, no movement.

"Your Majesty, I have a matter to report," she said, quickly stepping forward.

"Report, report, urgent dispatch from three hundred miles!"

A frantic voice sounded, accompanied by hoofbeats.

Everyone paused, instinctively looking toward the palace gates, where a scout rode in on a swift horse, drenched in sweat.

He quickly dismounted, ran to Tang Yu, knelt, and announced, "Your Majesty, I have brought the men!"

They had arrived!

Tang Yu’s eyes lit up, and he burst out laughing—heaven was indeed on his side.

They had arrived! Ye Yue and Murong Yun felt a surge of joy.

"Your Majesty, your servant Wu Cheng apologizes for the delay!"

"Your Majesty, your humble subject Sun Honglang apologizes for the delay!"

"Your Majesty, your lowly subject Tang Zhengde apologizes for the delay!"

These three were Wu Cheng, Commander of the Palace Guards; Sun Honglang, Chief Historian; Tang Zhengde, Provincial Inspector.

Su Li was stunned, then his expression changed dramatically!

How were these three here? Hadn’t he ordered them expelled from the palace, forbidden to ever attend court again? Who had let them in?

He turned in fury to the useless officials beside him, who quickly avoided his gaze in terror.

It wasn’t that they were unwilling to take drastic measures—under the previous emperor, these men would never have been summoned back, and Su Guifei’s slander would have made the emperor hate them deeply.

"Prime Minister Su, this matter is no longer your concern. I hereby appoint Wu Cheng as Commander of the Palace Guards, Sun Honglang as Chief Historian..."

Wu Cheng and the others were puzzled, stunned for a moment, but under the urging of the grand eunuch, they knelt and expressed their gratitude.