"No! Please have Mercy! your majesty!" The official shrieked, collapsing to his knees before the imperial guard walked up beside him. His desperate plea continued to reverberate through the hall as they roughly dragged him away for punishment.
The sound of lashes and the agonizing cries of the official still reverberated in the hall, disturbing the court gathering.
The man in the owl mask let out a smile. "Your Majesty, please excuse me for a moment," he said, then walked out of the audience hall toward where the imperial guards were lashing the official.
The official had hoped to be exempted from this punishment since this guest had arrived, but he was too naive. What the man in the wooden owl mask did was cast a silencing spell on him, and then he returned to the audience hall.
As for the official, he continued to suffer. Although he cried out in agony, no one could hear him as the spell prevented any sound from escaping his throat.
Inside the hall, the Emperor's eyes grew sharp. His actions were merely a show of respect for the Olympian court, punishing his own official for disrespecting the man in the owl mask with excessive severity. Since it was excessive, he expected the man in the owl mask to show his magnanimity by pleading for him, the Emperor, to have mercy on the official.
That way, each of them would keep their face and avoid offending each other. The official would not be punished so severely, even though he's just a bootlicker. However, he is still the patriarch of his respective family and holds significant power.
Now that he has been punished for his attempts at bootlicking, the official would likely resent the outcome, potentially leading to further problems down the line.
The Emperor's eyes grew sharper as he decided to cut the tree without leaving the roots. Although the official holds significant power in court and some influence in the economy, he is not that important to the Emperor. The Emperor, who has far surpassed him in terms of wealth and influence, can do without that official.
As the Emperor of the great Qing Empire, he must not let this insignificant incident deter him from his grand plan.
"Sir Owl, you contacted us saying you have found a way to help us regain our former glory, dominate an entire world, and restore the passage to the immortal world. Is it true?" asked the Emperor.
"Yes, Your Majesty, It is true. We, the court of Olympus, have a way to restore your empire to its former glory," the man in the owl mask said, uttering the words Emperor Tianhao Wenzhong wanted to hear the most.
In this day and age, the Qing Empire was not as strong anymore. What they had was just a facade of strength, like a paper tiger. Emperor Tianhao Wenzhong knew how much he spent to maintain this facade.
Yes, he held absolute authority and political power, but only as long as he lived. Two out of his three sons were wastrels and couldn't be relied upon; they were only good at eating, drinking, and whoring. They were good for nothing.
The last one, his youngest, was determined, faithful, and showed dedication to study. But he was still too young and lived under the thumb of his two older brothers. He knew that he couldn't crown his youngest as the crown prince; otherwise, his last hope would die from assassination orchestrated by his older siblings.
The air in the chamber was heavy with sorrow. Once a mighty warlord, the Grand Chancellor of the Han dynasty now lay pale and frail, his breaths labored, each one a struggle.
Around him gathered his faithful generals, trusted aides, advisors, and beloved family members—wives and his son—all bearing expressions of concern and grief.
This chamber of mourning held none other than Cao Cao, known as Cao Mengde, the renowned warlord of the Three Kingdoms era and the architect of order.
Cao Cao's thoughts wandered amid fleeting moments of clarity and bouts of delirium, the illness consuming him unchecked. Memories of battles fought, victories achieved, mingled with regrets for unfulfilled ambitions.
"My dream... of a unified realm," Cao Cao whispered, his voice feeble.
At his side, his eldest son Cao Pi stood resolute, a mix of sorrow and determination in his eyes. "Father, rest assured. I shall carry forth your legacy and realize your aspirations," he vowed, his voice unwavering despite the emotional storm within.
The wives, unable to contain their grief, wept openly as their beloved lord teetered on the brink of eternal slumber.
Cao Cao's generals and advisors exchanged solemn glances, acknowledging the imminent departure of their revered leader. They had fought alongside him, witnessed his brilliance and resolve, and now braced for the inevitable farewell.
As time crept by, Cao Cao's strength ebbed further. His gaze drifted towards the window where moonlight streamed through, casting a gentle glow upon this scene of farewell.
"The mountain stream flows ceaselessly," he whispered, his voice laced with regret, "But man's life is but a dream. Under the sky, everything is fleeting, Only the stars remain unchanged."
Author Note: "Hymn to the Fallen" This poem is from the "Chuci" (Songs of Chu), a collection of poetry from the Warring States period (475–221 BCE)
He closed his eyes, the poem echoing the relentless passage of time and his own fading life. With a final, regretful sigh, his breathing ceased altogether. The room fell silent, punctuated only by the heart-wrenching cries of his loved ones.
Outside, the world continued its relentless march. But within the walls of Luoyang, on this March day in 220, the world mourned the loss of Cao Cao, a man who reshaped history. His death marked the end of an era, leaving behind a legacy as vast and powerful as the man himself.
As Cao Cao's eyes closed, his consciousness drifted into darkness, where he felt the pull of something... something far greater and more powerful than himself. It was like the sensation of a small boat being drawn inexorably towards the edge of a raging river, hurtling towards a waterfall.
Then, the sensation of floating on calm waters enveloped him, his eyes still shut but sensing that something was calling to him. The silent call, wordless yet compelling, pulled him toward the unknown. Finally, Cao Cao regained the ability to open his eyes, gazing upon the unbelievable scene before him.