A new dawn pierced through the glass windows of the palace's main hall, illuminating the polished marble floor with a golden glow. The scent of warm candle wax and burning wood mingled with the morning air, carrying a feeling of both silence and sanctity. The hall was filled with palace officials, ministers, generals, and honored guests from neighboring kingdoms, all wearing formal attire—fine silk hanfu in symbolic colors: red for courage, blue for loyalty, and gold for power. Their faces restrained emotion behind courtesy, their gazes reflecting respect, hope, and a touch of tension.
In the center of the hall, Yi Feng stood on the marble platform, dressed in a dark-blue royal robe embroidered with a golden dragon coiling around his chest, its tail winding down his arm. The dragon was not merely a decoration; it was a symbol of the heavens and the authority bestowed upon the Emperor by Heaven itself. His hand held a golden ceremonial staff carved with cloud patterns and a small phoenix at its base. His posture was upright, but his breathing remained heavy, concealing the nervousness behind his dignified gaze. Every eye fixed upon him saw not just the successor to the throne, but the future ruler who would bring prosperity and honor to the Xiao Kingdom.
General Li Zue An, dressed entirely in black with armor layered in gleaming bronze, stepped forward. His voice was firm, echoing through the high hall:
"Your Majesty, all preparations are complete. The ministers await your final command. The people have been informed of today's ceremony, and the temporary altar has been prepared for the final tribute to the late King Xiao Muo Heng."
Yi Feng nodded, his eyes fixed on the row of ministers kneeling respectfully. Each face showed a mixture of reverence, hope, and silent tension. He took a deep breath, calming the turbulence in his chest, then raised his voice:
"Begin the ceremony."
From the side halls, the sound of ritual drums echoed slowly, followed by the soft ringing of bronze bells. The guards, wearing finely layered armor, stood tall at both sides of the hall, their swords gleaming under the morning light. The air was filled with the rhythmic sound of measured footsteps—the silk shoes tapping against the marble floor, creating a sacred cadence.
One by one, the ministers approached Yi Feng. They bowed until their hands touched the floor in respect, presenting the documents of approval and the royal seal—symbols of acknowledgment of Yi Feng's rightful ascension as ruler. Every movement was governed by strict protocol, from the position of the hands to the direction of the gaze, displaying obedience and reverence for traditions passed down through centuries.
As Yi Feng signed the final document with a brush dipped in gold pigment, time seemed to slow. He looked at the temporary altar where his father's body was laid to rest. A shadow of grief passed through his heart, but he gently brushed it away, straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and lifted his head with the dignity that marked the birth of an emperor.
"With the power bestowed by Heaven, through the mandate of the people and the legacy of my ancestors, I, Yi Feng, officially accept the throne of the Xiao Kingdom," he declared, his voice steady, echoing through the entire hall. The morning light illuminated his robe, making the golden dragon embroidery appear alive, as though the dragon itself bowed in blessing.
Soft applause was heard from the guests and ministers, but behind the clapping, Yi Feng still felt the heavy burden upon him. Every word he had spoken was a promise—a vow to lead, to protect his people, and to continue his father's legacy with justice and wisdom.
After the ceremony was completed, the ministers returned to their positions, and Yi Feng stood alone on the marble platform. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, reflecting on the marble floor and highlighting every detail of the golden dragon on his robe. He took a deep breath, letting grief, responsibility, and determination blend into new strength within him.
That day, Yi Feng was no longer a prince. He was the emperor, the bearer of Heaven's Mandate. And although the world around him awaited his next move, his heart knew—this was only the beginning of the true test.
The Final Tribute
After the echoes of applause faded and the ministers returned to their positions, Yi Feng stood alone upon the marble platform. The sunlight glinted on the golden dragon embroidered across his robe, as though it offered its blessing. Yet within his heart, grief for his father had only just begun to sink in.
04:30 a.m. – Funeral Preparations
A thin mist blanketed the palace courtyard as dawn began to bloom. Servants and mourning officials dressed in black and white hanfu, symbols of purity and grief. Tall candles were lit one by one, their flames reflected along the golden pillars and walls, casting a soft, solemn glow. The morning air was cold and damp, the scent of old wood and marble mingling to create a sacred and weighty atmosphere.
Yi Feng appeared from his private chamber at five o'clock, dressed in a black mourning robe with subdued golden dragon embroidery. In his hand he held a closed black fan—a symbol of composure and restraint. His expression was calm and firm, though his eyes revealed the deep sorrow within as he gazed at the temporary altar where King Xiao Muo Heng lay in repose.
06:00 a.m. – Procession to the Tomb
The funeral carriage, crafted from dark wood carved with dragons and phoenixes, was drawn slowly through the palace courtyard. The candles carried by attendants flickered gently in the morning air. The low beat of ritual drums echoed, followed by the soft chime of bronze bells. Ministers bowed respectfully, and guards stood straight with gleaming swords, each step moving in perfect rhythm to the ancestral ritual.
Yi Feng walked ahead of the carriage, his head bowed. The scent of damp earth and aged wood mingled with the sound of footsteps, creating a sacred silence heavy yet filled with reverence.
08:00 a.m. – The Offering Ceremony in the Grand Courtyard
Upon arrival at the courtyard, a temporary altar had been erected for the final offering. A bronze cauldron filled with holy water stood beside burning candles, while the ministers recited ritual prayers that echoed through the palace grounds. Offerings of rice cakes, fruits, and sacred tea were neatly arranged, symbols of devotion to both the ancestors and the heavens.
Yi Feng bowed his head and offered a short prayer, while the morning light illuminated the golden dragon on his robe. The shadow of the dragon seemed to move upon the floor with him, as if symbolically granting its blessing.
10:00 a.m. – Tribute from the People and Ministers
The citizens permitted to attend bowed their heads, scattering white chrysanthemums toward the funeral carriage. The ministers followed the rhythm of the prayers and footsteps. Silence enveloped the courtyard, broken only by the chant of prayers and the measured tread of feet. Yi Feng led the procession, his face calm and resolute, concealing personal grief beneath imperial dignity.
12:00 p.m. – The Departure to the Royal Tomb
The funeral carriage moved slowly toward the burial site in the Royal Cemetery Garden. The earth had been blessed, the gravestone carved with symbols of the dragon and the phoenix, and a narrow water channel flowed alongside the tomb—a sign of balance between nature and Heaven's authority. The guards and ministers followed in measured steps, while Yi Feng walked behind, his shoulders tense beneath the weight of mourning.
3:00 p.m. – Burial and Closure
Upon arrival at the tomb, the casket was laid to rest. The ritual priest poured holy water over the soil, candles were placed around the grave, and the final incense was lit. Yi Feng bowed once more, offering his last farewell. The ministers sealed the tomb with great stones, followed by the placement of the royal flag—a symbol of the kingdom's enduring legacy.
4:30 p.m. – Closing Prayer and Reflection
All ministers and officials gathered for the final prayer. Yi Feng stood at the center, his eyes fixed firmly upon his father's tomb. He took a deep breath, letting grief, duty, and determination blend into strength. The evening light bathed the cemetery in gold; the final rays reflected upon the marble and the golden dragon of his robe.
That day, Yi Feng was not only an emperor, but the true heir of responsibility.
His father's funeral was his first trial as ruler—a test of patience, authority, and self-control that would determine the future of the Xiao Kingdom.