The Emperor’s hand tapped on the armrest of his throne as he almost absently watched the Ministers bicker amongst themselves like children, his mind drifting to the unsettling conversation he’d had with Ya’er the previous day.
It had been as if someone had cast a spell over her. Her eyes no longer held warmth, her lips no longer curled lopsidedly as she tried not to smile, her voice was no longer soft. Instead, all of it had been blank. Her face, her eyes, her voice - they had all been carefully blank, with rage simmering just underneath like a wildfire waiting to erupt. And erupt it had, the moment he had spoken those fateful words: There is little I can do.
There had been no other way.
Ya’er was a simple woman, who had lived the life of a peasant, albeit with dirtied hands, until she stepped into the palace. She was most probably used to dealing revenge and repercussions for any harm done to her. It was only natural that she would try to do so here. For her, justice was swift. However, she did not understand politics, she did not understand the delicate balance he needed to maintain in his court, the web of political alliances and rivalries. She did not understand how pulling one thread - no matter how well-intended and justified - could unravel the entire web.
His eyes moved to Minister Kang, standing just one position removed from the Prime Minister’s side, in the front row. Minister Kang was an important pillar of power for the Prime Minister. And as much as he would like to bring down that pillar, he could not. Not yet. Not without proper evidence and due process. If he did that, the State Preceptor’s faction would jump at the opportunity to whittle away at the opposition. That would result in chaos in his court and he would only be seen as an incompetent, puppet Emperor in the hands of the State Preceptor.
He could not let too much power go into the hands of the State Preceptor and his faction, no matter how grateful he was to him and his daughter - his Empress. The man was loyal, he knew. The same could not be said for his followers. His nation required balance and stability, not a one-sided accumulation of power. The Prime Minister and the State Preceptor kept each other in check, while Han Qin kept a check on both of them. But it was true that the Prime Minister was growing too power for his comfort. He needed to bring him down a notch or two. However, to do that, he needed to ensure the process was seen as a natural outcome of Imperial investigations, instead of a play for power by his Ministers. That was why he was gathering evidence in the first place.
Minister Kang’s face was the perfect mask of solemn respect now, but Huang Yasheng knew better. Behind that mask lay a man who had long overstepped his bounds. Rumours of smuggling weapons, stealing from the national armoury, and embezzling funds and rations had reached his ears more than once. He had his suspicions—suspicions that Kang was funneling those resources to groups beyond the empire’s borders, perhaps to a certain uncle of his. But suspicions were not enough. He needed proof. When the time was right, he would strike. And when he did, not even the Prime Minister would be able to protect Kang.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden, low rumble—a sound so deep it seemed to echo in the large Hall where he held his court, despite coming from a distance. The ministers fell silent, eyes widening as the sound echoed through the palace halls. It was a sound every man in the court recognized, but one they had not heard in years.
The Drum of Justice.
The drum situated right outside the Gates of the Outer Court, which one would beat if they sought justice directly from the Emperor.
Huang Yasheng’s spine straightened, his fingers tightening around the armrest as the drumbeat continued, slow and deliberate, each strike reverberating through the silence. The ministers exchanged uneasy glances, and Huang could feel the tension in the air thickening like a storm about to break.
He rose to his feet, his golden eyes narrowing as he turned toward the grand doors at the far end of the hall. The sound was coming from the outer courtyard. Very few dared to strike the drum—it was a symbol of the people’s final recourse when all other avenues of justice had failed. A symbol that all other routes of justice had failed. A symbol that the system in place had failed. The last time it had been struck was nearly two decades ago, during the famine riots. To strike the drum was to bypass the entire imperial bureaucracy, to demand that justice be done, immediately and without delay.
The beating of the drum stopped and, a few moments later, a loud, familiar voice was heard.
“This petitioner seeks permission to enter.”
A pause as the Ministers collectively turned their gaze on him. It was unsettling.
“Enter!”
A ripple of unease passed through the court as the doors creaked open. Huang Yasheng clenched his teeth as he saw the figure at the door. Eunuch Liu entered, his expression as unreadable as ever, but in his hand, he held a scroll. He walked forward, his steps unhurried, and as he approached the throne, he bowed deeply, then knelt, holding the scroll out in both hands.
So, this is the path you have chosen, Ya’er.
Huang Yasheng’s eyes remained on the scroll as his own Eunuch hurried forward to take it and deliver it to him. The weight of what the scroll contained was far heavier than the scroll itself. He broke the seal and unfurled the parchment, his gaze scanning the words within.
Eunuch Liu’s voice cut through the silence as he read aloud, his tone steady and clear, though each word seemed to fall like a stone in the stillness.
“On behalf of Rin, a maidservant in the service of Lady Ren Siyun, I, Qing Samaya, petition for justice against Kang Yanxin, son of Minister Kang Yanchen, for the crime of violation of dignity committed against the maidservant within the Palace walls. Let it be known that I seek justice for Rin, who was brutalized and silenced, and that this petition is made before the court in full view of all, so that none may deny the gravity of this crime.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
They were the exact words written on the scrolls.
A murmur rippled through the court. Huang Yasheng could hear the sharp intake of breath from the ministers, the shifting of feet, and the flutter of their sleeves as they raised their tabs to hide nervous expressions. This was no simple accusation. This was an open challenge to one of the most powerful men in the empire, and it had been made in the most public way possible.
Huang Yasheng felt a flicker of something close to admiration, along with a budding sense of annoyance. Ya’er had played her hand well. By invoking the drum, she had forced the court's hand—forced his hand. There could be no ignoring this. No delay, no deflection. Once the drum was struck, the Emperor was obligated to respond, to preside over the matter personally.
It was one of the Sacred Imperial Doctrines and the very reason the drum was there in the first place.
There was no way out.
However, this also made matters difficult for him. He was not done gathering evidence, he was not done with his preparations to take down the Prime Minister’s pawns. This stunt of his concubine was sure to make Minister Kang put his guard up, especially if an official investigation was launched. It would make things far harder for Huang Yasheng to find the man’s weaknesses.
His gaze moved to Minister Kang. The man’s face had gone pale, his mouth set in a thin line, though he was clearly struggling to maintain his composure.
For a moment, the court was silent, all eyes on Huang Yasheng, waiting for his next move.
He spoke, his voice measured and calm, but the authority in it was unmistakable. “The petition has been heard. We will proceed with the trial.”
The court erupted into noise. Ministers spoke over one another, some expressing outrage, others calling for calm. The Prime Minister himself remained conspicuously silent, his calculating gaze flicking between Minister Kang and the emperor, clearly weighing his next move.
He could hear differing voices.
“What insolence! Such indignity against a nobleman!”
“The Drum has been struck, there is no-”
“For a maid! You would humiliate-”
“I agree! This is no doubt an attempt to humiliate the Kangs!”
“Ren Siyun… is that not the daughter of Lord Ren, who is known to have a good relation with the State Preceptor?”
“Yes, yes, it must be-”
“It does not matter. Once the Drum is beaten, the Emperor must proceed!”
Huang Yasheng had enough.
“Silence!” His voice echoed across the chamber. “The Drum has been invoked. We shall honour the Sacred Imperial Doctrine and proceed. The trial of Kang Yanxin will be held a week from now. As parties to the dispute, both Kang Yanxin and Lady Qing must be present. We shall examine all the evidence presented to us and make a decision. Let it be known!”
Ah-Liu rose and bowed once more before stepping back until he exited the Hall. Huang Yasheng sat back down, his mind already moving through the possibilities, the consequences. He had no choice but to allow the petition to proceed, but there were ways to manage the outcome. He would not allow this single act to destabilize the empire.
As the ministers began to murmur once more, Huang’s thoughts drifted to Ya’er. She was bold, perhaps too bold for her own good. She was not a woman to be cowed by power or authority, not even his. She would not stop until justice was done, and in some ways, he respected that. But in others, it made her dangerous.
For now, he would let the matter proceed. But he would be watching closely.
----------------------------------------
Across the palace, in the private residence of Minister Kang, the mood was much darker.
Kang Yanxin stood in front of his father, head bowed, though there was no real remorse in his posture. His hands fidgeted at his sides, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.
Minister Kang stood before him, his face twisted in fury. Smack! The slap came hard and fast, the sound of it echoing through the chamber as Yanxin staggered back, clutching his cheek.
“You fool,” Kang hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? I sent you there to speak to the Imperial Consort and your sister, not to frolic around. I told you to keep your hands to yourself, to stay out of trouble. But no, you couldn’t resist, could you?”
Yanxin scowled, his pride stung. “She was just a servant-”
Another slap, harder this time, sent him stumbling.
“She was a servant in the palace,” Kang snarled, his face inches from his son’s. “Do you understand what that means? You’ve brought this mess into the Emperor’s own home. And now that woman has struck the Drum. Do you realize what that means, you imbecile?”
“I have taken servants before! No one ever-”
“Those servants did not have a concubine - the mother of the First Imperial Prince, no less - petitioning on behalf of them in front of the entire thrice damned court! That woman has cast her spell on the Emperor. She is dangerous. Have you not seen what she did to your aunt?”
Yanxin looked up, eyes wide, fear finally creeping into his expression. “What… what’s going to happen?”
Kang turned away, pacing, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You’re going to stay out of sight. Do you understand me? You’ll remain here, in this house, and you will not show your face until I tell you otherwise. I’ll deal with this, but if you so much as step out of line again—”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat hung in the air like a blade.
Yanxin swallowed, his bravado crumbling. “Yes, Father.”
Minister Kang’s eyes flicked toward the window, his mind already working on the next steps. He had allies in the court, men who owed him favors. He would pull every string he could to protect his family and his reputation, but this… this was a mess. He would have to tread carefully.
“You are dismissed.”