RWNEFE -Chapter 575 The Imperial Bloodline Turned into a Joke

Not long after Zhang Chuchu’s funeral, news arrived from Jinmen. Zhou Ruyuan, under the pretext of “upholding the orthodox bloodline of Great Zhou,” publicly denounced Shen Lanxi and, in the name of the Emperor of Great Zhou, issued a decree of accusation against her.

At court, Song Daoxi launched a fierce rebuttal.

“So what if he carries imperial blood? The unjust have few supporters; the just have many. He is a traitor who colluded with foreign tribes and betrayed the nation—just because of a bit of blood, can he make the world change rulers?”

“What the people recognize is a good ruler who can fill their stomachs—not a skin sack filled with blood.”

“Who doesn’t have blood? Drag anyone to the marketplace and cut them—no one’s blood weighs two ounces more than another’s!”

The officials were stunned. They had never expected a figure as lofty as an immortal to speak so plainly—and so sharply.

It was as if blood were splashing right in front of them.

“As expected of the successor of Guiguzi.”

“As expected of someone who says that in chaotic times one chooses a wise ruler—these words are truly thought-provoking!”

Song Daoxi continued, each word like a blade, cutting relentlessly, as if drawing blood with every stroke.

“If we must argue about bloodlines, the founding emperor of Great Zhou had ancestors who slaughtered pigs. The emperor of the previous dynasty once sold straw sandals. Go back further, and there were even rulers who rose from bandits and vagrants.”

“After they ascended to high position, how did they suddenly become true dragons, endowed with imperial blood?”

“Could the blood of pig-butchers or sandal-sellers turn into gold when it hits the ground? Could a drop of blood transform into thousands of granaries to feed the people for three years?”

“All nonsense. If imperial blood truly determined everything, there would be no fallen kingdoms and no dynastic changes.”

“If it were really so, after generations of intermarriage, even beggars on the street would have a bit of imperial blood in them.”

“Even the dogs that once guarded the palace—after enough generations, the stray dogs biting people in the streets would also carry ‘imperial dog blood’!”

“Compared with the great currents of history, the least valuable thing of all is imperial blood!”

The assembled officials: “…”

They felt only awe and admiration.

“As expected of the successor of Guiguzi. I already know how to strike back in the bulletins!”

“I think it’d be even better to send a dog to Jinmen and say it carries imperial dog blood!”

“Cruel—but brilliantly cruel!”

Soon, the court’s news bulletin published a response that shocked the entire realm:

“All the people under Heaven—each and every one possesses imperial blood!”

“All stray dogs under Heaven—each and every one carries imperial dog blood!”

“All wild donkeys under Heaven—each and every one has the bloodline of heavenly steeds!”

As soon as this bulletin appeared, it caused an uproar.

“Incredible—truly worthy of the successor of Guiguzi. That counterattack was like a slap across the face.”

“The State Preceptor doesn’t even need to go to Jinmen. That slap still rang loud across thousands of miles!”

“If you count from the founding generation of the dynasty, everyone could be said to descend from the first emperor—so of course everyone has imperial blood.”

“What kind of thing is Zhou Ruyuan? Blind, a fake war god, colluding with foreigners, cold-blooded, willing to sacrifice even his relatives for the throne, and he married a twice-married venomous woman. For the throne, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do.”

“I heard the Astronomical Bureau already calculated his fate—he was never destined to marry a good wife. Let’s not even mention the first one. Just look at the ones he married afterward!”

“If he can’t even choose a wife properly, what good choices can he make?”

“The strategists he chose—no one has even heard of them, yet they dare challenge our State Preceptor?”

“What are they thinking? Just daydreaming. Now he doesn’t even have his father to shield him!”

The dispute over bloodline was dissolved almost effortlessly, and the court bulletins hammered Zhou Ruyuan again and again.

Now even ignorant children, when quarreling over malt candy, would shout, “I have imperial blood in me!”

The child who lost the candy would retort, “So do I!”

Could children really come up with such lines on their own?

Of course not—they had heard adults say it and learned it privately.

Adults might not dare speak openly, but children had no such restraint, and in moments they exposed what their parents were saying at home.

At first, when city guards and constables patrolled, parents would cover their children’s mouths and even slap them a few times.

But when they saw the guards paid no attention—not even a glance—they gradually stopped worrying.

The whole notion of “imperial bloodline,” like earlier propaganda battles in the bulletins, had been thoroughly mocked into uselessness.

In teahouses, storytellers struck the table with a snap of the wooden clapper.

“To tell you the truth, everyone—my ancestors were the ones who sold straw sandals. Our family also carries imperial blood!”

“Near my home there’s a man who used to haul night soil—his ancestors were great generals!”

“My neighbors across the lane claim descent from the First Emperor!”

“Even the waiter serving tea here—his ancestors were true dragon emperors, genuine and guaranteed!”

“But… as our present Emperor has said: Are kings and nobles born to their rank? What is imperial blood worth? If everyone has it, then it’s like the cabbage sold on the street—worth nothing. Isn’t that right?”

“Right!” the crowd shouted, laughing.

“Our State Preceptor also said—if imperial blood falls on the ground, can it grow grain?”

“To tell you honestly, when my blood falls on the ground, nothing grows—though my finger hurts for days!”

The listeners roared in agreement.

“And the Emperor also said—can imperial blood fill your stomach?”

“Let me ask you—why can you eat your fill today?”

The crowd looked at each other.

“Isn’t it because the Emperor brought in new grain seeds, reduced taxes, repaired rivers, and opened new farmland? Isn’t that so?”

“Yes!” the crowd shouted.

“Let’s not say anything else—before, could you sit in a teahouse like this, drinking tea and listening to stories?”

“Of course not. We couldn’t even fill our stomachs—how could we listen to stories?”

“And now your children go to school—are you required to pay heavy tuition? In the past, an entire family might struggle desperately to educate even one child. What about now?”

“The academies only charge a little for paper and ink. Every child can afford to study. Who do you rely on for that?”

“Is it that damned imperial bloodline?”

“If anyone says yes, I’ll spill some blood right here and see if it turns into gold on the ground!”

“These aren’t my words—they’re what the Emperor and the State Preceptor said. When it comes to wisdom, doubt anyone—but never doubt the State Preceptor!”

“When it comes to governing the country, doubt anyone—but never doubt the Emperor!”

“The facts prove it: useless bloodlines mean nothing. What matters is someone who truly knows how to govern!”

While the teahouses buzzed with fiery storytelling, Jinmen felt as desolate as snowfall in midsummer.

“What reaction is there in the capital?” Zhou Ruyuan asked urgently.

A bulletin from the court was delivered. “Your Majesty should see for yourself.”

The so-called Master of the Thatched Cottage was not as formidable as the rumors claimed. Each seemingly clever scheme, once carried out, had been easily neutralized.

It felt like punching into cotton. Even they were growing weary.

As Zhou Ruyuan read, his face slowly darkened.

“They are simply rebellious—utterly…”

Compared with Zhou Ruyuan’s thunderous fury, Yuan Lang remained calm.

“Your Majesty, what we should focus on now is not the court, but the people from all sides who are coming to join us.”