Little Pink Starfish

I Absolutely Don’t Want to See Any Heroes

Emperor Xianzong arrived from the imperial study, expressionless as he stared at the enormous tree before him, while internally he was roaring: Can I not have even a single day of peace?!

His legal wife had died, his daughter married a cripple, his son had to be sent off as a hostage, and the beloved concubine he’d pampered for years turned out to be neither gentle nor kind—she’d been acting with a fake mask every day. He’d gotten tangled up with the Eternal Life Temple, the imperial palace had caught fire, his close attendants were killed—and as if that wasn’t tragic enough—now even trees were flying through the air?!

“How’s a man supposed to survive this?!”

“Your Majesty, Chancellor Zhao is still pinned underneath,” a general from the imperial guards reported.

“Why are you telling me?” Xianzong barked coldly. “Lift the tree!”

The general wiped sweat from his forehead. That tree stood thirty meters tall and was so wide that even three men linking arms couldn’t encircle it. They couldn’t possibly lift it right now. “I’ve already sent for reinforcements,” the general replied. “Please rest assured, Your Majesty. I’ll get Chancellor Zhao out as soon as possible.”

“Who did this?” Xianzong asked. He didn’t care anymore whether Zhao Qiuming lived or died—he just wanted to know who was behind this.

The general looked at the emperor awkwardly. Honestly, someone who could uproot and hurl a tree of this size didn’t exist in the imperial court—or even the martial world. Except maybe one person in the imperial family…

“Why are you looking at me?” Xianzong snapped. “You think I made the tree fly?!”

The general lowered his head immediately and decided to tell the truth. He had to save his own head, after all.

“If you don’t know, then investigate!” Xianzong nearly stomped his foot in frustration. With such useless subordinates, how could being an emperor be anything but miserable?

Just then, another thunderous crash rang out—not too near, but not far either. The ground trembled again.

The general didn’t even stop to think. He shouted “Your Majesty!” and tackled Xianzong to the ground. If another tree came flying, he’d take the hit first.

Everyone present instinctively dove to the ground.

The general looked at the ridiculous scene—so many people lying facedown, waiting to be crushed. He didn’t even have the strength to yell anymore. One or two fools was bad enough, but why did they all have to be fools together?

After a moment, the trembling stopped. No more trees had flown over. The sky was still blue. The earth still bore the lifeless remains of a massive larch tree.

The general let out a long sigh and got up to help Xianzong. “Your Majesty, are you alright?”

The emperor lay face down, unmoving.

“What’s going on?” Gu Xinglang arrived with National Preceptor Chengguan. Xianzong’s golden dragon robe stood out like a sore thumb—among the scattered bodies on the ground, the Prince Consort and Preceptor spotted the emperor instantly. Gu Xinglang quickly asked, “Your Majesty, are you… alright?”

The general panicked when the emperor still didn’t move. He reached out nervously. “Your Majesty?”

“Don’t touch him!” a court physician cried out. “Where are the imperial doctors?! Someone fetch them!”

Chengguan quickly walked over and asked, “Your Majesty, do you feel pain anywhere? Did you injure any bones?”

If the emperor had fractured anything, it was crucial not to move him—everyone understood that, even outsiders like Yu Xiaoxiao, let alone the native-born officials.

The general couldn’t stand anymore—he fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness. “Your Majesty, this subject deserves death!”

Xianzong slowly pushed himself up with trembling arms and sat upright with a roar: “CAN I HAVE ONE NORMAL DAY?!”

The general turned pale instantly.

Gu Xinglang, watching from his bamboo reclining chair, slapped a hand over his face. The scene was just too tragic.

Apparently, when he was tackled to the ground, Xianzong had bitten through his own lip. Blood poured from the split, staining his chin and robe red. His outfit was covered in bark, pine needles, and dirt. The once-dignified emperor looked worse now than even when the palace had caught fire the previous night.

Seeing the emperor injured, everyone knelt down—except for Gu Xinglang, who physically couldn’t. Even Preceptor Chengguan dropped to his knees. Whether guilty or not, everyone begged forgiveness.

“Investigate!” Xianzong spat blood on the ground and roared. “Find out which bastard did this! Ptui!” He spat again. “I’ll execute his whole clan!”

“Your Majesty, stopping the bleeding should be the priority,” Gu Xinglang offered.

Xianzong glanced at his son-in-law. Everyone else was kneeling or lying on the ground. And this guy—this guy—was sitting on a soft bamboo lounge chair. Xianzong glared daggers. “I’m on the ground bleeding, and you’re just lounging there? What do I need a son-in-law like you for?!”

Everyone fell silent. The crown prince was only eleven. Honestly, the son-in-law was more useful.

Gu Xinglang, ever the straightforward type, answered, “Your Majesty, I have leg injuries. I can’t—”

“SHUT UP!” Xianzong’s shout sent flecks of blood flying. “Who hurt you? Huh? Who’s to blame for that?”

…

Everyone knew the answer to that: You, Your Majesty.

“Your Majesty, what happened?” someone asked just as Xianzong was about to start yelling at Gu Xinglang again.

“What happened? Are you blind?!” Xianzong snapped and turned to the voice.

It was Grand Tutor Fenglin, sitting in his own soft bamboo chair, gazing at Xianzong with deep concern.

Xianzong bit his tongue from shutting his mouth too fast. Ancestors above, why won’t they let me live?!

Fenglin looked at the massive tree on the ground and turned to Chengguan. “There are people injured here. Why aren’t you saving them?”

Gu Xinglang knew exactly who was trapped under that tree—Zhao Qiuming, the Minister of Justice, and a bunch of imperial guards loyal to Zhao. In his opinion, the more of them died, the better. “Grand Tutor, why are you so concerned with my kingdom’s ministers?” he said coolly. “His Majesty is present. No need for you to meddle.”

“You think I’m meddling?” Fenglin smiled—a sickly beautiful young man whose smile seemed pitiable and gentle.

But Gu Xinglang, a hardened soldier, had no appreciation for his charm. “This is the imperial palace of Fengtian. Whether people or matters, they have nothing to do with you.”

At that moment, Chengguan helped Xianzong stand. Seeing his son-in-law bickering with Fenglin, Xianzong actually felt a bit better. That little sissy annoyed him to no end—he’d love for a real man to beat that pretty face to a pulp.

Just as Xianzong was inwardly hoping for a hero to show up—

He heard a voice call out: “Dad—no, Father Emperor, what happened to you?!”

Xianzong spat more blood. Heavens above, I was wrong! I don’t want to see any more heroes! Someone please make this one disappear!