Zhao Huaiyu’s agitation grew with every word. Suddenly, he snapped his eyes open, his gaze burning red as he stared at Yang Yunfeng and roared, "Corrupt official! You are all birds of a feather, desperate to drive us poor folk to our deaths! What does Yu Zhan'ao’s wickedness have to do with us commoners? What does the rise and fall of dynasties have to do with us? You raise grain taxes every single year, you harass the people at every turn—you have no intention of letting us live! Fine! Then kill me! Kill me!"
Zhao Huaiyu looked up at the sky and let out a long, howling cry: "In the Dragon Court, the intoxicated gaze shatters the stars; through the corridors of the fox and rat, the jade pillars char! Even if the scholar burns his brush to remonstrate, the blood of the people turns the lanes of *Shuli* into a tide!"
"Insolent!" Prefect Cao stood up, pointing at Zhao Huaiyu, and berated him angrily: "The *Shuli* poem describes the sorrow of a fallen nation! Our Great Yan Dynasty has only just been established; how dare you curse our nation's destiny? Guards! Drag him out and behead him!"
Chapter 397