Chapter Twenty-Two: The Scapegoat Princess Sentenced to Death (22)

Once everyone had left, Emperor Tianwu continued to frown as he examined his condition. Ding Shui, however, felt that the current symptoms manifested on the Emperor were far too subtle. His son, the Prince of Lu, had seen all four of his feet transform into pig trotters—a connection to a swine that was unmistakable at a glance.

Consort Guang was carrying a literal pig’s head in her womb.

The connection to a pig could not have been clearer!

Yet, here he was, simply ballooning in weight, which would be difficult to link to a pig for the time being. After some thought, Ding Shui decided to strike a second time. This time, he targeted the only remaining distinct part of the pig used in the synthesis storage space: the tail. He mapped it onto the Emperor’s coccyx, a region that was not particularly noticeable.

The subsequent developments were self-evident; the Emperor suddenly felt an itch behind his backside.

He reached out to touch it, and lo and behold, he had grown a tail. However, as he was not in the habit of eating pig tails, he did not immediately recognize what kind of appendage it was.

Even so, it scared him half to death, and he broke out in a cold sweat on the spot.

If his body were simply gaining weight and developing scars, he might have found a way to accept it. But to grow a part of the body that simply should not be there? That was entirely unacceptable.

Even if an emperor were expected to be extraordinary, he would prefer that uniqueness to manifest as long earlobes—the mark of a long-lived Buddha—or arms that reached past his knees, a sign of his dragon-like countenance. He certainly did not want a mysterious tail sprouting from his backside. That was not being extraordinary; that was a demonic mutation.

If he were to declare this an auspicious omen, he would be mocked for ten thousand generations.

For the first time since his ascension, Emperor Tianwu felt his heart in utter turmoil. He even hesitated over whether he should show the tail to the imperial physician when he arrived. While he could always have the physician executed afterward, it would be profoundly embarrassing.

As the Emperor wrestled with his dilemma, the two men he had summoned did not dare to delay for a second, rushing toward the chambers and arriving at the door to await an audience shortly thereafter.

The Imperial Hospital was staffed twenty-four hours a day; since people did not only fall ill during the day, there were always skilled physicians on night duty, stationed not too far from the Emperor’s residence. The Emperor was more important than anyone else, and the hospital’s first priority was to ensure his medical care was always accessible.

Chief Eunuch Li Zhong, while unable to be in two places at once or work in shifts, always rested nearby to ensure that if the Emperor needed him, he could arrive promptly.

Their speed was naturally swift.

Upon being summoned inside, both men immediately sensed that something was amiss with the Emperor.

The Chief Eunuch, having seen the Emperor only two hours prior, could tell at a glance that he had gained a ridiculous, reality-defying amount of weight. While the duty physician, Zhou Yan, had not seen the Emperor often, the hospital kept meticulous and accurate medical records—far more detailed than any ordinary patient file. These records contained the Emperor’s recent status, with the last entry only three days ago; he had certainly not been this heavy then.

However, both men were seasoned veterans.

Maintaining emotional stability and a stoic expression was crucial to their careers, if not their very lives. Therefore, they showed no signs of abnormality.

They remained calm and composed, performing the required salutations.

Only then did one step forward to offer concern, while the other reached out to take the Emperor's pulse. Emperor Tianwu remained silent; he wanted to hear the physician’s diagnosis first. Seeing the Emperor’s silence, Li Zhong dared not ask any questions, instead observing the changes in the Emperor’s physique and wondering internally what had happened.

He had been perfectly normal before going to sleep. How could he have gained so much weight overnight?

After a long while, though Zhou Yan felt deeply conflicted and even doubted his own medical skills, the growing impatience of the Emperor forced him to speak:

"Your Majesty, your body remains generally healthy, though your weight is on the high side. You may need to adopt a lighter diet."

"?" The Emperor was stunned.

Healthy? He had gained this much weight in the time it took to nap, and his skin was covered in stretch marks, yet he was called healthy? Was this man blind? "Are you blind? Can you not see the cracks and scars on my body? They were not there before I slept, and I was nowhere near this heavy. What is wrong with you? Your medical skills are truly abysmal!"

It must be said that Zhou Yan was truly aggrieved.

Sudden weight gain and the resulting stretch marks—which, strictly speaking, were not a disease—could not be diagnosed as such. As for gaining weight overnight, that fell outside the scope of the medicine of this era; how was he supposed to know?

"Your Majesty, please forgive me. Your body has indeed gained a significant amount of weight, and due to the rapid expansion, the skin has stretched and cracked, resulting in marks similar to those on a pregnant woman’s abdomen. However, your vitals are indeed stable. As for the cause of this sudden weight gain, I am incompetent and truly do not know."

Not knowing meant not knowing; Zhou Yan did not dare to fabricate an answer, and once he finished speaking, he hurriedly knelt to beg for mercy.

Gaining dozens of pounds overnight was something he had never seen in any medical text; he had only read of such things in supernatural novels. But one could not take fiction as truth!

To treat it as truth would mean suggesting witchcraft or curses, and those were words he dared not utter.

*It’s too slow,* Ding Shui thought. *This fellow has no idea what is happening to him. And as for his son, the Prince of Lu—even if that Dong Huaide sends word by fast courier now, it will be three to five days before it arrives. If he doesn't send a fast courier, it could take even longer; half a month is not impossible.*

*Consort Guang is still under house arrest. If they coordinate well and cover their tracks, they might actually be able to hide it for a while, perhaps even giving her time to dispose of that pig’s head in her womb.*

Ding Shui was growing truly anxious.

The efficiency of a feudal dynasty was too slow, and the speed of information transmission was glacial. In the information age, the gossip about the Prince of Lu’s four pig-trotter feet would have already spread everywhere. It wouldn't be like this, where it might take ten days or half a month for the news to reach the capital.

Accustomed to a fast-paced life, Ding Shui was becoming impatient. He felt the urge to push them along, or perhaps set up a giant screen and broadcast the news himself.

Desperate to get things moving and lacking the patience to wait, wanting to finish the job and return before dawn, Ding Shui decided to give them another nudge.

This time, he did not use the synthesis system.

Instead, he went directly into Emperor Tianwu’s consciousness and spoke in a booming voice: "The Son of Heaven who breaks the law shall be punished as a commoner. This was but a small lesson for you and Consort Guang. If you do not announce the Prince of Lu’s crimes to the world and execute him by slow slicing, the next time I return, it will not be a mere lesson."

"Do not say you were not warned. Choose your path wisely..."