Inconceivable! . . .
In this pivotal moment, the court assembled in grave anticipation. An oppressive silence blanketed the chamber, rendering the air heavy with tension. The presence of an enigmatic yet impending event was palpable, a riddle that none dared to broach prematurely.
These seasoned, astute officials, skilled in the political intrigues of the court, recognized the treacherous currents of the situation. Years of service had imparted upon them a survival instinct that silenced their tongues in the face of uncertainty. A single unwise utterance would be akin to stepping into an abyss.
"Such a significant occasion, and not even the king knows the details. How would I be privy to such information? Even if I were, could I have possibly delved into these clandestine depths? After all, he was your own flesh and blood, supported by formidable allies. The Second Prince, a member of the royal family! How could I have overseen his actions?" The unspoken defense reverberated in the heart of Prime Minister Zuo.
The king's piercing gaze now fell upon Prime Minister Zuo, who remained prostrate before him. Prime Minister Zuo's hurried confession left a clamor of silence in its wake, for he sensed that the inquisition was taking an unexpected turn.
But then, the king's words cut through the muted atmosphere. "Guilty? That was swift, Prime Minister Zuo." His tone remained unswayed. "Let me pose a query: how many officials have you brought to justice for engaging in bribery?"
Prime Minister Zuo, still in a prostrate position, clung to a thin thread of hope while perspiration formed on his brow. "I am guilty," he offered as a meek response, even as his mind raced in frantic search for answers to the king's baffling queries. What had prompted these inquiries? The case of the Second Prince was an antiquated affair; why delve into the annals of history now?
The surrounding courtiers watched this exchange with bated breath, perplexed by the sudden, inexplicable shift in focus.
"Do you know," the king intoned with a solemnity that resonated like thunder, "that amongst the officials under your purview, someone plots treason?" The ominous revelation fell heavily upon the assembly.
In the same moment, a muffled thud reverberated through the chamber. Crown Prince, once perched on his ornate throne, was inexplicably now sprawled on the ground, his visage a portrait of stunned disbelief. The king's gaze remained unmoved, locked onto Prime Minister Zuo.
A collective hush lingered as the courtiers surreptitiously distanced themselves from the fallen Crown Prince. Disarrayed and bewildered, they betrayed no inclination to approach their formerly exalted figure.
To the perplexity of those present, the king's relentless interrogation continued. His questions carved a path to a conclusion that Prime Minister Zuo foresaw all too clearly. Despite his decades of service and loyalty, he was submerged in a sea of cold sweat.
His thoughts, burdened by the revelation, descended into a disoriented chaos. "The sky is falling!" was the only coherent phrase that persisted in his mind.
"I don't know. I deserve to be executed," Prime Minister Zuo admitted, his words saturated with contrition. The weight of guilt bore heavily upon him. He longed to evade the inevitable consequences, and perhaps, at the same time, he pondered the sudden resurfacing of past transgressions.
The king scrutinized Prime Minister Zuo, offering no verdict, no reprimand. He instead allowed the gravity of his inquiries to linger.
For an interminable span, Prime Minister Zuo knelt before his sovereign, his appearance one of a supplicant, not a courtly statesman. Time flowed in a disorienting liminality, until the king's enigmatic pronouncement pierced the silence. "Where is my Crown Prince?"
Those present recoiled, a pallor sweeping across their faces. "My Crown Prince," the phrase intoned by the king, seemed to carry an eerie malevolence.
Crown Prince, trembling on the ground, mumbled in response, "Father... Father... I am here."
The king regarded his son with an expression laden with disdain and loathing. His voice emerged low, cold, and indifferent. "My son, lift your head. Allow me to gaze upon you, my offspring, that I may scrutinize you closely."
Crown Prince, unable to meet his father's gaze, remained bowed, his form a supplication before the throne. The distaste conveyed by the king had indeed cast a shroud over the once-exalted figure of the Crown Prince.
"Wouldn't dare? Hahahaha…" The king's laughter resonated through the hall in a woeful tone. "Is there anything in this world that you wouldn't dare to do? You have committed countless unforgivable deeds, and you've executed them with your own hands! Now, I request that you meet my gaze, and you claim you 'wouldn't dare'? What an act of humility, my son, my noble Crown Prince!"
A leaden silence fell over the hall, so profound that even the faintest sound, like that of a needle striking the floor, pierced through the stillness.
Crown Prince felt his heart pound relentlessly, as if it had migrated to his head, each beat resounding like a resounding drum.
With a pallid countenance, he slowly raised his head to lock eyes with his father, who possessed a gaze as piercing as that of a hawk, devoid of warmth or tenderness.
"You are, indeed, my Crown Prince," the king acknowledged with his eyes half-shut, delivering his words in a dispassionate tone. "Your countenance is regal, your visage handsome. Allow me to inquire: did I ever strip you of your title as Crown Prince, or did I merely suggest such an intention?"
Crown Prince responded in a voice laden with trepidation, "Not... not really."
"Have I ever conveyed to you the state of my health, the direness of my condition, insinuating that my days are numbered and that you shall ascend the throne within a matter of years?"
"You... you did."
The king's voice retained its equanimity as he continued, "I imparted such intimate details, such private matters, openly and without reservation. I concealed nothing from you, unlike the rulers of history who safeguarded the fragility of their own physical constitution. My sole intent was to groom you into a virtuous monarch, one who would extend our kingdom's splendor and ensure its enduring prosperity."
Crown Prince prostrated himself on the floor once more, unable to meet his father's gaze a second time.
"I fail to comprehend," the king voiced his perplexity. "You possess full knowledge. You are cognizant that no one could challenge your position as Crown Prince. You merely had to await the inevitability of my passing. The day of your coronation was fast approaching. Why then did you conspire to commit treason? Explain it to me!"
A furrow creased the king's brow, a manifestation of his genuine bewilderment. A sovereign steeped in wisdom found himself confounded by the inexplicable actions of his own son, particularly when that son knew the date of his ascent to the throne loomed on the horizon. He had never concealed any aspect of this inheritance from Crown Prince, rendering the latter's deviation from this ordained path an enigma that confounded the king's understanding.