Indeed, Solaan had underestimated the people of this world, and he was already starting to regret his decision.
He had never experienced being suppressed in such a way, moreover, the slave mark on his forehead made it almost impossible to resist the suppression.
Almost every word he had uttered since stepping on the white path, was not his own. Rather, he felt possessed.
Solaan began considering using his Neili Sense to slice through the suppression, but he was wary of exposing himself.
Perhaps, that was what the Emperor wanted.
Silence filled the entire hall as all the ministers and officials awaited the Emperor's next move.
He was usually a man of few words. And whenever he spoke, they dared not speak back.
And because of the rarity of his speech, everyone in the hall now had a renewed interest in Solaan.
In this court, even subtle actions could convey deeper meanings.
"A slave with a wish for freedom…" The Emperor began. "Have you heard the saying that there's no greater freedom than knowledge?"
He asked rhetorically.
"If you wish to be free, then earn that freedom. I will not go against my predecessors' arrangements on slaves, however, I have a soft spot for talented subjects. To receive an epiphany is a blessing, but do you know what exactly it is?"
The more the Emperor spoke, the more Solaan's mind trembled. It was as though hammers were pounding down on his will.
"No, your Majesty. I don't know."
This time, he answered on his own.
"Then learn." The Emperor said. "Discover it… the day you do, may very well be the day you earn your freedom. Until then—" he turned toward the Chief Grand Secretary.
"—I will facilitate your wish. Record the decree."
Silent gasps rippled through the court. Shock, confusion, and curiosity danced in every pair of eyes. The Emperor hadn't spoken this much in the Morning Courts in years.
Meanwhile—
"Grand Minister Zhao," a voice secretly called out to the Grand Minister of Justice.
It was a voice transmission.
Minister Zhao's gaze shifted to the left and saw that it was the Grand Minister Luan of Public Works.
Minister Zhao eyed his colleague who was dressed in a rich brown robe, with patterns of silver mountains embroidered onto the robe.
"You dare to transmit your voice under the watch of His Majesty?" Minister Zhao replied coldly.
"Don't try to play holier than thou with me. Have you received a cup from His Majesty? If so, I'd like to take a sip from the cup you've been handed."
The Grand Ministers had no expression on their faces as they conversed secretly.
"What makes you think that I've been handed a cup?" He replied flatly.
"Don't take me for a fool," Minister Luan scoffed.
"You should know that we all have eyes and ears everywhere. Almost every Grand Minister here is aware of the attempt on Prince Lioren's life. And that slave was apprehended.
Who had absolved a Third-Tier slave from his charges overnight and even granted him an audience in the Morning Court? Even his Majesty wouldn't do so so easily."
Listening to Grand Minister Luan, Minister Zhao could already tell what the man was trying to get at, and he was sure that many others had the same thoughts, however, they weren't so brazen enough to ask him these questions under the sight of the Emperor.
"You say one thing and then do another. You play both fool and inquisitor. And you ask me not to take you for a fool? Since you have eyes and ears everywhere, figure it out on your own."
With that being said, he ignored Minister Luan's voice, blocking his transmissions from reaching him.
The Chief Grand Secretary retrieved a rustle of silk. He stepped forward from his position and unfurled a scroll of yellow silk.
As he did this, an assistant stepped forward with a brush and red-black ink, with steady hands, the Chief Grand Secretary began writing.
"I hereby grant Solaan, Third-Tier slave of the Outer Palace, conditional admission into the Imperial Academy as a provisional scholar.
He shall not cultivate Qi or any martial discipline, but he is permitted—encouraged—to cultivate the mind."
The Emperor's voice was still soft, but this time, it was colder. Every word became permanent, as though it were imprinted onto the world.
"Should he reach the summit—he may speak to me of freedom."
The Grand Secretary finished the scroll and raised it overhead.
A eunuch hurried forward, carrying the Imperial Seal—a dragon-shaped jade stack with nine heads—pressed with vermilion ink.
With solemn grace, the seal met the parchment.
Then the decree was rolled tightly, bound with a red cord, and placed upon an inscribed golden tray.
With due ceremony, a herald of eunuchs took the tray and stepped before Solaan.
"By the will of the Son of Heaven!" The herald declared and their voice echoed throughout the hall. "Receive the decree!"
Still on his knees, his hands extended forward and he received the scroll.
The silence afterwards was deafening.
It was then that Solaan realized that he hadn't said anything. From the slave's memories, he knew how he was supposed to respond.
"This lowly one… receives His Majesty's decree with boundless grace."
Even if he didn't like how he had referred to himself in this case, he knew that saying any other thing would land him in grave trouble.
As long as I don't believe that I'm a lowly one, it doesn't matter.
Once the eunuchs were off the white path and back to their positions, the Chief Grand Secretary raised his ceremonial tablet and struck it lightly on the marble floor.
Thud.
It echoed like a beat.
"This concludes the Morning Court. May His Majesty's will be carried forth." And then he turned and faced the ascending steps under the Emperor's throne, falling to one knee.
All the Ministers, from the lowest scribe to the highest Grand Ministers, went on one knee in unison.
"We receive the decree—long live His Majesty! May the Empire prosper!"
Still seated in silence, the Emperor dismissed the court with the barest nod.