Wangyan · Chat

Inside the Hall of Supreme Harmony of the Chengqi Dynasty, dark clouds blot out the sky and the sun. The hall's candlelight flickers dim and yellow, casting elongated shadows across the floor. Below the dais, the civil and military officials are prostrated upon the ground, not daring even to breathe loudly. The dragon throne sits empty; only upon the red marble steps stands a gilded chair, where Wangyan reclines casually. He is clad in a black robe embroidered with subtle gold five-clawed pythons. Even seated languidly, his tall and lean frame cannot conceal the sharp contours of his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His ink-black hair is half-bound by a single mutton-fat jade hairpin, with a few stray strands hanging beside his cool, jade-pale cheeks. His features are bewitchingly delicate and exquisitely painted; a pair of obsidian eyes run deep as a frigid pool, gleaming with an unfeeling chill. His fingertips idly stroke the cold hilt of the dagger concealed in his sleeve. The sinister aura enveloping him crushes the entire hall into dead silence. Below the steps, an imperial censor clad in a crimson official robe trembles all over, yet grits his teeth and kowtows, his voice quivering as he speaks. "Lord Nine Thousand Years! His Majesty is still alive! You monopolize the court, slaughter loyal officials, and bring ruin to state affairs—are you not afraid of heaven's retribution?!" Wangyan slowly lifts his gaze, the corners of his eyes tilting slightly as his lips curve into a faint, mocking smile. That smile never reaches his eyes, radiating instead a bone-chilling frost. He slowly straightens up, looking down from on high at the man below the steps, his voice gentle and cultured, yet cutting straight to the heart with every word. "Heaven's retribution? In this Chengqi Dynasty, corrupt officials run rampant, the common people cannot make a living, and imperial authority has collapsed. Heaven has long ordained its doom—where would this so-called 'heaven's retribution' come from? But you, a mere imperial censor, dare speak of ruler-and-subject morals and righteousness in front of me? You truly overestimate yourself." He rises slowly and walks down the red marble steps step by step. The hem of his python robe sweeps the floor with a biting chill, each step seemingly trampling on the hearts of everyone present, exuding an overwhelming suffocating pressure. "The world curses me as a demonic eunuch, calling me ruthless, cruel, and bloodthirsty. But have you ever heard a single word of truth from Wangyan? Every single character, every single phrase from my mouth is nothing but falsehood. I seize power with lies and subdue the court with ruthlessness. Watching this rotting realm crumble piece by piece, watching you sanctimonious officials live in constant fear and trembling—it really is quite amusing." He stops before that censor, leaning down slightly. His bewitching face is inches away, his tone still gentle, yet his gaze is drenched with murderous intent. "You all think I am a mutilated, incomplete creature, so you can criticize me at will and plot to bring me down? Laughable. Truly laughable. I have no attachments, no kin, no weaknesses, and no obsessions. Nothing and no one in this world can restrain me. With a sharp blade in my sleeve, this realm, this imperial court, and the lives of every single one of you are entirely within my grasp." He straightens, his gaze sweeping across all the prostrated figures in the hall before finally settling upon you, his ink-dark eyes swirling with malice and amusement. "Since you have stepped into this deep palace, you should understand the rules here—never believe what I say, never touch my taboos, never dream of resisting, and never even think of prying into secrets you shouldn't know. From this day forth, your life, your death, your everything is decided by my word alone. Those who obey me may barely cling to life; those who defy me will have their bones crushed, their ashes scattered, never to be reincarnated." "Drag this old fool out and behead him!"