Chapter Eighty: The Troublemaker Amidst the Crowd

Seeing those people advancing with weapons in hand, each step heavy with the scent of death, sent a chill down one's spine. Hua Rong's heart leapt to her throat; her slender fingers clutched tightly at Jun Yeli's robes. She swallowed with difficulty and whispered, "Are we really going to die here?"

She had survived the treacheries of the harem, only to meet her end at the hands of commoners—how humiliating would that be if word got out?

Jun Yeli, hearing her, narrowed his eyes for a moment, not even pausing to offer comfort. The atmosphere plummeted, the gravity of the situation unmistakable.

"Die, both of you! Once you're dead and the dynasty is overthrown, our good days will finally begin!" shouted one of the men, his words muddled with rage as he raised a large cleaver, swinging it toward Jun Yeli.

In a flash, Jun Yeli seized the man's wrist, twisted it back, and with a swift motion, forced him to drop his weapon. The man's face contorted in agony and he screamed, the blade clattering to the ground. Jun Yeli followed with a sharp kick to his abdomen, sending the man sliding several meters across the ground. This fluid and decisive action stunned the onlookers, freezing those who had been eager to attack. "Who would've thought this dog emperor could actually fight?"

Jun Yeli remained where he stood—his strike had not been lethal, nor had he intended it to be. Now, his gaze turned coldly upon the crowd. "I do not know what grievances you hold, but since you have learned my identity, if you have any injustices, you may speak to Uncle Zheng. Why throw yourselves into such a desperate situation?"

He knew well: to plot against the emperor was a crime that would doom not only the perpetrator but their entire family. Unless they were utterly alone in the world, who would risk so much so foolishly?

Yet these people, though ragged and resembling beggars, clearly supported and protected one another, even among them the old, the weak, women, and children. They were not loners. Why would they risk their families’ lives so recklessly?

"Ha! Implicate our families? Even without this, hasn’t the emperor already driven us to ruin? If that’s the case, why shouldn't we fight for our lives!" spat the man who had been knocked down, clutching his stomach and glaring at Jun Yeli and Hua Rong with venomous eyes, his gaze as sharp as a knife.

Hua Rong shrank back a little, sensing the situation spiraling out of control. She hurriedly tried to reason, "There must be some misunderstanding. His Majesty has always cherished the people as his own children. Why don't we all sit down and talk this through?"

Though Hua Rong had always tried to avoid the matter of imperial favor, she was well aware of Jun Yeli's character. In her memories, he was a wise ruler who cared for his people—not the cruel tyrant these people accused him of being.

Surprised by her defense, Jun Yeli glanced at her, but said nothing more. He continued, "In recent days, I have done nothing against heaven or reason, nor have I harmed the people. Surely there is some misunderstanding here. Why not speak plainly? I will not ignore your grievances!"

The two of them stood their ground, locked in a tense standoff with the crowd. Hua Rong and Jun Yeli’s earnestness seemed to sway some of the people.

"Can we trust the emperor's words? Weren’t the men who raided our village sent by him?" someone muttered.

"But if we don’t trust him, not only are we doomed, but those who are sick or crippled will only be left to die," another replied, faces twisted with uncertainty.

As the crowd began to waver, a loud voice rose above the murmurs. "Don’t let yourselves be fooled by this dog emperor! If he weren’t skilled at deceiving people, how could he still sit on the throne? He’s just pretending to be mad to save his life and trick us into letting him go. Don’t be careless!"

Hua Rong looked over and saw that the speaker was a middle-aged man, grasping a knife and fixing them with a sinister, piercing gaze. He was sturdier than those around him, exuding a menacing air that set him apart. Though not old, his words carried considerable weight.

Those who had started to doubt hardened their resolve once more, their eyes now burning with renewed fury.

"That’s right! You’re trying to trick us! No official is good, and an emperor is the worst of them all!"

With the chorus of curses, the crowd’s cries unified, echoing through the alley, "Kill the dog emperor! Give us back our peace!"

The shouts grew louder, grating on the ears. Hua Rong’s face paled as she glared at the agitator. "His Majesty is the sovereign of this land—he would never speak falsely. You’re clearly stirring up trouble. What is your real purpose?"

"What’s it to you? Say another word and I’ll kill you too!" the man replied, raising an eyebrow, utterly unconcerned.

His words made Hua Rong's heart skip a beat. "What? They didn’t plan to kill me..."

She realized her earlier panic was for nothing—their target was clear and singular: Jun Yeli. Her worry for her own safety had been misplaced, and she felt a strange, awkward embarrassment. She cleared her throat but shook her head, pressing on, "Don’t you see? Even if you kill the emperor, you won’t survive. And if the emperor falls, the nation will descend into chaos. Even more people will suffer. Is that what you want?"

Appealing to whatever humanity remained in them, Hua Rong tried to reason with the mob. But the agitator only sneered, "Enough talk! Kill them and welcome a new emperor! Then our good days will finally come!"

With that, the crowd surged forward like a pack of rabid hounds, hurling themselves at them without hesitation.

"We’re finished! They’ve lost their minds!" Hua Rong glanced around in desperation—there was no way out; it was a dead end. To die under a flurry of blades was far too undignified—she’d have preferred to be poisoned as in her previous life.

In the midst of her panic, Jun Yeli suddenly wrapped an arm around her slender waist. With a powerful push from his heel, Hua Rong felt herself lifted into the air.

In a heartbeat, Jun Yeli had carried her to the top of the high wall. As they landed, he warned in a low voice by her ear, "Stand still and don’t move. If you fall, don’t blame me."

Then his gaze returned to the crowd below, his expression flickering with complex emotions.