Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Divine Mandate Sacred Map

Upon it appeared eight large characters, seemingly born of nature, glowing with a blend of purple entwined with gold and gold suffused with purple: “The Holy Mother descends among men, the Imperial enterprise shall endure forever.” Under the light of the candles, they shimmered brilliantly, casting dazzling radiance throughout the hall.

The elderly emperor's well-maintained, delicate face broke into a smile so broad that wrinkles gathered around her eyes, delight shining through every crease. Beside her, Wu Chengsi took the opportunity to introduce the origins of the jade stone.

“Your Majesty, you may not know this. Through your wise, unparalleled, and benevolent rule, you have won the hearts of the people. Countless families across the land have established altars in their homes to pray for your longevity, offering blessings day and night that you, Son of Heaven, may live long, enjoy happiness, and prosper.

Such prayers have shaken heaven and earth, so much so that a miraculous stone descended from the sky, inscribed in praise of your deeds. It is the recognition of heaven and earth, a testament to your meritorious achievements. I am fortunate to have been blessed by your favor, and while on a mission to Yongzhou, I encountered Tang Tong, who discovered this stone, and we have devotedly presented it to you.

This stone is truly a divine sign. It is a blessing for our great Xia, and all the more so for having Your Majesty. Long live Your Majesty!”

With these words, Wu Chengsi raised the stone high above his head and prostrated himself, calling out with fervor. Everyone in the hall, and outside, hastened to follow suit, and the chorus of voices rose in unending waves.

The old emperor’s heart surged and trembled, shaken to its core. The approval of the people, the testimony of heaven and earth—her lifelong wish had finally been fulfilled.

Wiping away tears of excitement, the emperor waved her hand and proclaimed, “Let this be known as the ‘Heaven-bestowed Sacred Image.’ It shall be displayed for all to see, and shared with the people! Chengsi, personally lead a group to carry it to the Golden Throne Hall, place it beside my dragon seat, and tomorrow, during court, let the ministers join in celebration!”

Wu Chengsi received the order, bowed deeply, and after expressing endless gratitude and flattery, finally rose to summon attendants to carry the jade stone—no, the “Heaven-bestowed Sacred Image”—away.

The old emperor stood, hands on her hips, laughing triumphantly to the heavens. Her satisfaction with Wu Chengsi reached new heights.

But did she know this was a fabrication by Wu Chengsi? She knew perfectly well. Yet her greatest anxiety had always been the lack of recognition by heaven and earth, the absence of the people's support. This anxiety made her feel the dragon throne was never secure.

Wu Chengsi’s forgery struck precisely at the emperor's deepest itch. And now, she could use this “falsehood” to proclaim to the world: I am the rightful Daughter of the Heavenly Dragon, the one chosen by destiny!

Indeed, at the next morning’s court session, the ministers gathered around the stone, and, shocked, their voices filled the Golden Throne Hall with elaborate blessings and congratulations, worthy of poetry and song.

The old emperor stood tall, chin raised, hands behind her back, accepting the accolades with utmost pride. The historians busily recorded the grand, miraculous scene.

Suddenly, from the cloudless sky, a bolt of lightning flashed silently and struck fiercely upon the eaves before the Golden Throne Hall.

Tiles shattered and rained down before the hall, breaking to pieces. The ministers all jumped in fright, and the old emperor, startled, stumbled backward, collapsing onto the dragon throne. Her face turned instantly pale as snow.

The might of heaven is unfathomable! Was this... the wrath of heaven? Had they angered the heavens by their deception, and were now being warned?

Just as the emperor pondered this, Wu Chengsi suddenly collapsed to the ground, convulsing and frothing at the mouth.

The emperor was terrified, attempting to rise and flee to the side hall, but suddenly felt her heart race, her breath halted. She slumped into the chair, eyes rolling back.

Su Gonggong cried out in panic, “Call the Imperial Physicians, quick!” He forgot the word of command. After shouting, he kept calling, “Protect the Emperor, quickly! Get to the side hall, dismiss the court, dismiss the court!”

The ministers, regaining their senses, became frantic and disorganized. Hearing the call to dismiss, they surged out of the hall like a tide.

Only Di Ying rushed forward, but was blocked by the Imperial Guards who had drawn their swords to protect the emperor. Seeing the palace maids and eunuchs about to move the emperor, Di Ying cried out urgently, “Do not move her!”

Before the words were finished, the guards shoved Di Ying down the steps of jade. Even as he tumbled, he shouted, “Her Majesty is merely shocked and breathless, do not move her, I can treat this!”

His forehead struck the stone, and stars danced before his eyes. But his cry startled the palace staff into pausing.

This pause allowed them to hear Di Ying’s words clearly, and doubt crept in. They turned, hesitating, to Su Gonggong.

Su Hong, too, was startled by Di Ying’s fall. Once he heard Di Ying’s words, he hesitated a moment, then waved to the staff, “Don’t move her yet!”

Pushing aside two guards, he dashed down the steps, hauled Di Ying up, and rushed him back to the dragon throne.

Di Ying, ignoring the pain in his brow, shook his head clear, and with Su Hong’s help, hurried to the emperor’s side. From the tip of his left middle finger, he drew forth a golden needle.

With a flick and a shake, he plunged the needle into the philtrum of Her Majesty. With his free hand, he gestured for the others to stand back. His thumb and forefinger gently twisted the needle, feeling the depth and angle beneath his touch.

When it was set, Di Ying drew another needle and inserted it into the crown of the head, then another into the temple.

Within the hall, the faint sound of needles could be heard.

Su Hong held his breath, so nervous his limbs trembled. He was familiar with the Imperial Physicians tending to Her Majesty, and knew well the danger and risk of Di Ying’s chosen points.

Su Hong wanted to intervene, but dared not utter a sound. He could only encourage himself, repeating in his heart: trust Di Ying, trust Di Ying...

Why trust Di Ying? Ah, the Poison Flower case.

After that case was resolved, the emperor had wondered how Di Ying could identify poisons, and ordered Su Hong to investigate. After much inquiry, and seeing Qian Xin’er’s recovery with his own eyes, Su Hong reported Di Ying’s medical skills to the emperor.

Then there was Di Ying’s arrow wound. The night after Di Ying left, the chief physician reported to the emperor that the wound had been neglected and might impair movement in the future. The emperor had felt sorry for him, and because of that, her aversion to Di Ying diminished, allowing him to escape unscathed after the death of Wu Xiangjin.

But just days later, the observant Su Hong noticed Di Ying was moving as if nothing had happened. He never mentioned it to the emperor, but confirmed privately that Di Ying possessed considerable medical skill.

Thus, when Di Ying shouted earlier, Su Hong chose to trust him.

Yet these acupuncture points were perilously risky. Su Hong felt his own heart pounding, as if he too might faint at any moment.