The room was filled with heat and suffocating humidity.
The air felt heavy, yet none of the elderly officials gathered in Secretary Li's study paid it any mind. Around ten men sat inside, their faces lined with wrinkles—not only from age, but from anxiety they could no longer conceal.
Long sighs echoed again and again.
Servants moved back and forth without rest, bringing hot water from the kitchen and refilling teapots that had barely cooled before being emptied again. In weather like this, each trip to the kitchen felt like a punishment of its own.
In the corner of the room—behind a parrot-carved desk, near a half-open window—sat Secretary Li. His face was calm and expressionless, but his eyes… tired and sorrowful. From time to time, he let out a quiet breath, as if still searching for something that might no longer exist—hope.
The room was nearly silent. Only the footsteps of servants and the heavy breathing of the officials remained.
Until—
"Haiyah! How much longer must we wait?!"
Official Tou stood up in agitation, his heavy body pacing back and forth in front of the door.
"Why is that eunuch taking so long to return?!"
"Can you be more patient?" a cold voice cut in. Official Fang slowly lifted his gaze. His white hair was perfectly combed, not a single strand out of place—so immaculate that the servants often wondered if it was even real.
"Haste will only invite misfortune." His stare was sharp.
Tou snorted, but did not dare respond directly. Instead, he glanced elsewhere, looking for someone else to vent on.
"You can still enjoy your tea, old Lang?" he sneered harshly."Hah? Enjoy it while you still can… hmph."
Official Lang merely tightened his grip on his cup. He did not respond. As always.
crikk… crikk…
The sound of crickets from the front garden became clear as the room sank back into silence. Too silent.
Suddenly—
Crash!
Official Lang's chair fell as he stood up abruptly. Everyone was startled.
"He's coming," he said, his voice trembling.
"Hah? Who? A ghost?" Official Shou retorted irritably.
A few seconds later, the door burst open.
A young eunuch rushed in, gasping for breath. His hair was disheveled, partly loose from its head covering. Sweat drenched his face. He immediately dropped to his knees. His body trembled—yet he did not speak.
"What did you hear?!" Official Tou barked. No answer.
"Why are you silent?!"
"Eunuch Hu." Secretary Li's voice finally rang out—calm, yet heavy. He stood and stepped closer.
"You will not be punished for anything you say." He stopped right in front of the eunuch.
"Speak."
The eunuch swallowed. His body lowered even further, his forehead nearly touching the floor.
"The… old servant… went to… Jung Palace…" His voice broke.
"…the gates… have been sealed…"
Silence. Absolute.
Someone sobbed quietly. Another pressed their temples. Official Fang didn't even realize when his body collapsed onto the floor.
Secretary Li said nothing. He turned. Walked out of the room.
Outside, the sky was still bright—too bright for a day like this. He looked up. And for the first time, his eyes filled with tears.
Year 956
Empress Du was placed under house arrest.
Commander Jung—her elder brother—was executed on charges of misusing war funds and conspiring with barbarians, along with his entire family.
The position of Crown Prince was left vacant. The Fourth Prince was exiled to the southern fortress. Dung Palace was sealed, leaving behind only a single elderly servant.
A few days later, Empress Dung died.
Two days after that, a small child knelt before the gates of Jung Palace.
He cried. Endlessly. Without moving.
Until, at last… he collapsed.
When he awoke on the second day, his face was empty… his eyes dry.
And somehow, the child no longer looked like a child at all.