Laughter echoes through the halls as eunuchs announce the Emperor's arrival, their voices high-pitched and clear. "The Emperor is coming! Pay respects!"
Ministers and officials scramble to their positions, forming a sea of black robes. As one, they drop to their knees, foreheads touching the ground in a perfectly synchronized kowtow.
"Long live the Majesty!" they shout in unison, their voices booming through the throne room. "Wan sui, wan sui, wan wan sui!" (Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, forever and ever!)
The air is thick with the scent of incense and the soft murmur of ceremonial music. The Emperor's arrival is a spectacle, a display of power and majesty that commands reverence and awe.
As the officials hold their kowtow, the Emperor enters, his presence marked by the soft rustle of silk and the glint of gold. His face is serene, his eyes piercing as he surveys his court.
The eunuchs announce his entrance, their voices rising above the chorus of "Long live the Majesty!" The Emperor's gaze sweeps the room, his presence commanding silence and respect.
The ceremony is a dance, a delicate balance of power and protocol. Each movement, each gesture, is choreographed to perfection. In this moment, the Emperor is the embodiment of imperial power, and his officials are but mere vessels for his will.
As the Emperor settles into his throne, the folds of his dragon-embroidered robe sleeves fluttering around him, a majestic voice booms through the hall:
"Let the petitioners come forth! Let the affairs of state be presented! Let the wisdom of the ages guide us!"
The voice is like thunder, shaking the very foundations of the throne room. It is a voice that commands respect, inspires awe, and brooks no disobedience.
The officials, still kneeling, tremble slightly at the power emanating from the throne. They know that they are in the presence of the Son of Heaven, the ruler of all under the sky.
With a gentle wave of his hand, the Emperor gestures for the first petitioner to approach. The room holds its collective breath as the official, chosen for his wisdom and eloquence, begins to speak.
"Your Majesty, I bring a matter of great import... "
The Emperor's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing as he listens to the petition. His face is a mask of serenity, but his mind is razor-sharp, weighing the words and considering the consequences.
The ministers began to present memorials.
...and the Emperor receives them with a nod, his eyes scanning the intricate calligraphy and seals that adorn the documents.
"Read it aloud," he commands, his voice firm but measured.
The chief minister steps forward, unrolling the memorial with reverence. He begins to read in a clear, resonant voice:
"Your Majesty, we humbly present this memorial to bring to your attention the matters of the northern border, where the barbarian tribes have been making incursions into our territory..."
The Emperor's expression remains impassive, but his eyes narrow slightly as he listens to the report. He interrupts occasionally with a pointed question or a nod of encouragement.
As the minister finishes reading, the Emperor steeples his fingers, his gaze drifting upward in contemplation.
"Summon the General of the Northern Armies," he decrees finally. "We must take decisive action to protect our borders and maintain the integrity of the empire."
The officials bow, scrambling to carry out the Emperor's orders. The machinery of state is set in motion, and the fate of the empire hangs in the balance.
YOU ARE READING
The Red Mole Prophecy : A Concubine's Rise (BL)
Historical FictionThe world of Dakin, su ling a brother (third gender ) Becomes a concubine to the Emperor after a shame Full event. Brother who can become pregnant but Very low chances face discrimination in prejudice in Ensuring family lineage. they are often over...
