The bell rang loudly.
Shang Yechu walked to the open space in front of the first step and stopped again.
The second old eunuch's whip moved like a dragon in flight!
"Smack—!"
The whip brushed against Shang Yechu's black robes and landed on the open ground in front of her.
Shang Yechu stepped over the whip without even blinking.
The second old eunuch shrieked, "Second lash, the four seas rise—"
"Zheng—"
"Zheng—"
The bronze bell rang twice more.
Shang Yechu continued walking forward. This time, her gait was slightly different from the previous two; she quickened her pace!
The Empress walked toward the throne of her dreams, her expression still solemn, her hair perfectly styled, only her breathing slightly heavier.
"Hey, camera position 2, get closer to her," Zheng Bohan directed, his eyes glued to the monitor screen. "Film her breathing!"
The cameraman's camera was practically shoved right in Shang Yechu's face!
Closer, closer.
Throne, dragon throne, imperial seat... power.
Twenty years have passed like a dream.
In the last few steps, Shang Yechu's eyes were completely oblivious to everything else; she was staring intently at the chair. It was a look of almost devout fanaticism.
The last old eunuch, the one who wielded the whip, stood before the dragon throne. Upon seeing Shang Yechu arrive, the old eunuch, following tradition, swung the whip with force!
The whip did not crack.
Zheng Bohan stood up in front of the surveillance camera!
Shang Yechu actually made a move that wasn't in the script at all!
Under the old eunuch's astonished gaze, Shang Yechu's eyes were fixed on the dragon throne, while his other hand casually grasped the whip that had been swung out!
The Empress's gaze was fixed on the throne, her hand holding a whip that symbolized the test of imperial power.
An elderly eunuch with white hair and a youthful face stood opposite her.
The weathered whip was held at one end by an old man in his twilight years, and at the other end by a young empress, stretched into a straight line.
The empress did not let go.
The new ruler and the witnesses of the old emperors stand in silent confrontation before the dragon throne, the eternal symbol of imperial power.
Dynasties rise and fall, morning and evening.
The old eunuch looked into the Empress's eyes.
What eyes they were! Dark and deep, like an endless abyss, with the reflection of the dragon throne dotting them like two will-o'-the-wisps.
There was nothing in those eyes except power.
The old eunuch was burned by that burning gaze, and almost subconsciously, he let go of her hand!
"Smack!"
This wasn't the sound of the whip's tail sweeping through the air and the ground, but rather the sound of the whip's handle hitting the ground.
The Empress smiled.
The Empress stopped in front of the old eunuch, and with a wave of her hand, threw out the whip. Her wide sleeves, like clouds, drew a graceful arc in the sweltering air.
The old eunuch suddenly shuddered.
He immediately stood up straight and shouted in the loudest, clearest, and most articulate voice of his life:
"The third lash—"
May peace last forever!
Upon hearing the sound, everyone bowed down in unison, their voices like a mountain roaring and a tsunami crashing.
"Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!"
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