Emperor Ji Wudao stared at the neon-yellow mesh vest sitting on his bruised chest.
The reflective silver stripes gleamed in the morning sun, casting an obnoxious, garish glare across his dirt-stained face. He tried to push himself up, but his shattered core throbbed with agonizing dull aches.
“A vest...?” Ji Wudao wheezed, his broken gums oozing pink froth. “You dare hand a yellow rag to the Son of Heaven?!”
“It is not a rag,” Shen Qiaoqiao replied smoothly, adjusting her glasses with one finger. “It is high-visibility safety equipment approved by the Planetary Heavenly Dao Labor Protection Board. If a celestial carriage hits you while you are sweeping the crosswalk, the driver is held strictly liable. We care about worker safety.”
From behind Shen Qiaoqiao, Lord Wen Zhengming stepped forward with a stack of iron neck-collars in his arms. Each collar was engraved with ancient, glowing golden glyphs that hummed with unyielding legal authority.
“To work off your remaining sovereign tort penalties, you and your ministers are hereby sentenced,” Lord Wen announced, unrolling an eight-foot sheet of legal parchment. “You, Crown Prince Ji Hao, Minister Qian, Grand Preceptor Sima, and all ten ancestors will serve one thousand years of public highway maintenance and latrine sanitation!”
