Chapter 308: What Morals Does a Tyrant Have?

The Empress was not only Cen An’s nightmare but also a great challenge in Ning Can’s medical career.

The Empress’s illnesses always struck without warning, and they defied all conventional treatments.

She had been struck by lightning, yet her body was completely unscathed. She had coughed up blood, but her pulse remained strong and forceful.

’How is she even mortal? Even an Immortal’s body could hardly be better.’

He couldn’t write a prescription for her at all.

But Hong Yue and Wang Wanqing were staring him down, as if he wouldn’t be allowed to walk out the door unless he came up with some sort of diagnosis.

Ning Can wracked his brain and could only, in the end, reluctantly prescribe a gentle, nourishing tonic.

He didn’t dare hope for any credit, but he absolutely could not afford to make a mistake.

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Yue Country was conquered in the end. The army suffered heavy losses, but these were primarily in equipment and supplies. The number of soldiers killed in action wasn’t particularly alarming; it was within the normal range for warfare, perhaps even on the lower side.

But the common folk didn’t care about any of that. They only knew that their homes and fertile fields had been destroyed by the flood, their loved ones were dead or injured, and they were left homeless.

The Empress was a tyrant. It was her heartless cruelty that had brought this misery upon them.

She was so tyrannical, slaughtering people like flies, that even the heavens could no longer bear to watch.

Countless refugees gathered before the gates of the traveling palace, shouting their grievances in anger. They demanded the Empress return their grain and property, and some even clamored for her to pay with her life.

It was a classic case of the ignorant being fearless.

They all knew the Empress was cruel, yet they still pushed their luck. They truly had no sense of self-preservation.

As everyone knew, the Empress never cared for public opinion, nor did she coddle anyone.

She simply dispatched the army to round up all the protesters. Meanwhile, soldiers were sent out to help clear the post-flood debris and repair houses.

The disaster relief was generous: grain, cloth, salt, and even the sweets and meat they had always craved.

All relief supplies were distributed per person and were exceptionally generous. But the protesters received nothing.

New housing was planned and built outside Yanping State. The homes were given to the people for free. But the protesters received nothing.

Various factories were built, hiring workers from among the disaster victims. But the protesters were excluded.

They weren’t wrong. The Empress was not only cruel but also cold-blooded and ruthless.

Warfare and slaughter were conflicts of the mortal world. She would accept the karmic debt for the sin of killing.

But the Heavenly Dao was merciless, using a disaster to achieve its own ends. What did that have to do with her?

’The people weren’t killed by my hand. Why should I bear the blame for their deaths?’

’The commoners are ignorant and innocent? So what?’

’Does their innocence mean I must confess to a crime I didn’t commit?’

She was an Emperor, not a saint. She would never allow anyone to curse her with one breath and take her charity with the next.

They accused her of being a tyrant, and she accepted the title.

’If I’m a tyrant worthy of divine punishment, then it’s only natural for me to ignore the people’s welfare.’

’Moral blackmail? What morals could a tyrant possibly have?’

Having witnessed that near-miraculous scene, the civil and military officers who already revered the Empress became even more devout, almost fanatical.

Her Majesty had withstood divine punishment with a mortal body and emerged unscathed. If even the heavens couldn’t harm the Empress, it only served as further proof of her power—a power so great it was worthy of myth.

Who wouldn’t feel their blood boil with excitement at the thought of following such a powerful Emperor?

When the Empress gave a command, it was followed to the letter. Her every word was law.

No longer did any official suggest the Empress should compromise. They simply carried out her orders with precision and without question.

The entire Ministry of Rites was mobilized, writing proclamations until their brushes were practically smoking.

They wrote about everything from astronomy and geography to karma, from matters of state to the price of rice and salt.

The central theme was simple: Her Majesty’s campaign against Yue Country was righteous, justified, and perfectly reasonable.

Yue Country was destroyed because they had launched unprovoked attacks on Yanping State and Shanzhou. After the Empress ascended the throne, they grew even more audacious, ultimately bringing about their own destruction. The Empress’s decision not to completely annihilate them was, in itself, an act of mercy.

Furthermore, while the Empress was in a coma following an assassination attempt, the court neither governed Yue Country nor collected taxes from it. On the contrary, it was the Prince of Yue who, in his bid to restore his country, exploited his own people and disregarded their welfare.

So, who was truly unjust and immoral?

Murong Yu was wildly ambitious, conspiring with King Xian to rebel. The Empress was merely putting down a rebellion. What crime was there in that?

And if one were to truly investigate, it was not at all certain who had actually incurred the wrath of the heavens and brought on the flood.

But setting aside those arguments, let’s look at the facts.

The rain came from the heavens. It was the heavens that disregarded the lives of the people. The relief supplies, however, came from the Empress. Debts and grievances must be clearly distinguished. If you want to blame the Empress for the heavens’ actions, then you don’t get to enjoy the Empress’s generosity.

It might not align with the traditional principles of imperial rule, but logically, it was sound.

The Empress was powerful, wealthy, and generous. The rules were hers to make.

Since she had already owned the label of a tyrant, why on earth should she be expected to distribute her wealth to everyone?

At first, the officials from the Ministry of Rites simply thought they had found a new angle. But upon further reflection, they realized it actually made a lot of sense.

However, this logic applied only to the Empress. Only she was powerful enough, wealthy enough, and had the loyal support of her officials. Most importantly, of course, she didn’t care about her reputation. For anyone else, this approach would be impossible.

The Empress’s word was iron. She was clear about rewards and punishments. When she said no, she meant no.

No matter how the people blocking the gates of the traveling palace begged and repented, she gave them no second chances.

She made them watch as others received relief supplies, moved into new homes, and became employees at her factories—with benefits so incredible it was like bringing glory to one’s ancestors.

Of course, the Empress didn’t actively retaliate against them. She provided them with standard rice porridge to ensure they didn’t starve.

The porridge wasn’t thin; everyone could eat until they were half-full. In a year of disaster, this was already considered good treatment.

But what people fear most is comparison. While they drank plain porridge, others were eating meat and sweets and moving into new houses.

The unfortunate had died in the flood, but those who survived still had to go on living.

They had only come to voice their discontent, hoping the Empress would give them some form of redress. But in the end, because of a few angry words, they had lost their chance at all the benefits the Empress had arranged.

The greatest pain in life isn’t failing to get what you want; it’s watching others easily obtain the very things you’ve always dreamed of.

This was especially true of what the Empress was giving away—things a hundred times better than what they had ever owned, things they couldn’t afford even if they sold themselves into servitude.

In this world, goods were expensive and lives were cheap. With enough money, what sorrow couldn’t be soothed?

They were filled with endless regret and bitter resentment.

At first, they simply begged the Empress for mercy and admitted their faults, hoping to gain her forgiveness. When they realized it was useless, they began to blame one another. They blamed the person who had insisted they come protest, and they blamed whoever had misled them.

Eventually, it devolved into a session of finger-pointing. One person accused another, until finally, they pushed forward a few scapegoats. The rest all adopted the same story: they had been incited and misled by these few culprits.

They earnestly confessed their wrongdoing, begging the Empress to punish those few and forgive the rest.

Sacrificing others to save themselves. Forcing people to their deaths for personal gain.

Human nature, it seemed, could not withstand the slightest test.

But Xiao Li had never been testing them.

’For cursing the Emperor, death would be a light sentence. Even the execution of their entire families would not be an injustice.’

’An apology, an admission of guilt, and they expect me to pretend nothing ever happened?’

’How naive.’