Every time Liu Wei believed he was making progress with his plans, he found himself inevitably met with another setback.
The snowstorm raged on in the dark skies overhead on the night of his heir's birth. It was already approaching spring and yet the chill gave no signs of abating, an ominous cold lingering in the air like an ill omen. Initially, he had thought this to be in his favour; the more hardships the common folk faced, the less faith they would have in their emperor. After all, it was Liu Yao who held—for now, at least—the mandate of heaven and it was Liu Yao whom they would blame for falling out of favour with the gods. The civilians who so revered their foolish liege for his benevolence would also be the first people to turn against him when natural disaster struck and strange rumours started abounding that it was the emperor's disregard for the natural order of things—choosing a man for his official bride being the latest one—that incurred divine wrath upon them all.
