The lights in Yangxin Hall burned far brighter than they should have.
It was not a festival.
Nor an emergency decree.
Yet the lamps had not gone out all night.
The Emperor sat behind the imperial desk, still wearing his dragon robe, his knuckles tapping lightly against the tabletop.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound was quiet—almost gentle.
But the pressure it created made the air difficult to breathe.
When the palace doors opened, Qing Tian walked in.
She did not kneel.
That was a privilege the Emperor himself had granted her.
"Speak."
The Emperor said only that single word.
Qing Tian did not circle the matter.
She began with the first empty grain crate.
She spoke of the Warmth Soup that had gradually grown thinner.
Of the kitchen workers chewing on raw flour cakes late at night just to survive.
Step by step, she recounted everything—
Until she reached what had happened in the cellar that very night.
"Beneath the Imperial Kitchen's granary," she said steadily, "there is an old hidden chamber from an expansion many years ago."
"The key is not held by the kitchen."
"Nor is it recorded in the Internal Administration ledgers."
She lifted her gaze and met the Emperor's eyes.
"It is held by someone called… the Iron Abacus."
For the first time that night—
The hall fell into true silence.
Even the eunuchs lowered their breathing.
The Emperor's tapping fingers stopped.
"You're certain?" he asked quietly.
"I am certain."
There was not a trace of hesitation in Qing Tian's voice.
"Because tonight…"
"They intended to seal the chamber."
The Emperor's brows tightened.
"Seal what?"
"They planned to bury living people."
She paused.
"Together with empty grain crates."
At that moment—
The Emperor's eyes turned completely cold.
Not just anger.
Something deeper.
The chill of realizing he had been deceived for years.
"Iron Abacus."
He repeated the name slowly.
"I believe I've heard it before."
Gao Dequan trembled slightly.
"Your Majesty—"
"Quiet."
The Emperor lifted a hand.
"Let her finish."
Qing Tian continued.
"This man does not exist on official rosters."
"He holds no title."
"No rank. No inspection."
"And yet every large shipment of grain, incense, offerings, or supply passes through him."
She looked directly at the Emperor.
"He isn't merely corrupt."
"He turned eating people alive into an administrative process."
The Emperor closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, his voice was very soft.
"How many?"
Qing Tian's throat tightened.
"If we only count the Imperial Kitchen supply chain…"
"In the past three years alone—"
"At least seventy-six people."
The Emperor's gaze sharpened.
"Are they dead?"
"They're alive."
She paused.
"But they no longer exist."
Bang!
The jade paperweight on the desk shattered beneath the Emperor's palm.
"Good."
"Very good."
He stood slowly.
His tone was calm—
Too calm.
"I never imagined…"
"That my Internal Administration had turned into an underground court."
He turned toward Gao Dequan.
"Gao Dequan."
"Your servant is here."
"Deliver my verbal decree."
"There will be no morning court tomorrow."
"The palace gates will not be sealed."
Gao Dequan's head shot up.
"Your Majesty?! What are you—"
The Emperor's voice cut through the hall.
"I will conduct the interrogation myself tonight."
The air exploded with tension.
"And one more thing."
The Emperor's gaze returned to Qing Tian.
"From this moment forward—"
"All kitchen supplies, shrine offerings, and grain accounts…"
"Bypass the Internal Administration."
He stepped closer to her and lowered his voice.
"Bring them directly to me."
In that moment—
Qing Tian knew she had won her gamble.
Not because she had been clever.
But because she had forced the Emperor to see the one thing he could never tolerate.
Someone had been secretly imprisoning people beneath his palace—
Right under his eyes.
People disappeared.
Some lived. Some died.
And the Emperor had known nothing.
For a ruler, that was more than corruption.
It was humiliation.
It was a direct challenge to imperial authority.
And the Emperor understood something very clearly now—
If he did not act, the empire itself would slowly slip from his hands.
His gaze rested on Qing Tian.
A decision formed quietly in his mind.
If used correctly—
She could become the sharpest blade in the reforms he had long hesitated to begin.
Outside Yangxin Hall—
The night flowed like dark water.
But beneath the palace city—
The true storm
Had only just begun.