Chapter 32
Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The edges of her lips slowly raised. She laughed plainly and nodded heavily, saying lightly, “Sure. Let’s go to Yan Bei.”
The night was long. In the icy-cold, humid prison cell within the capital, two small children were separated by a wall. They sat in their respective cells, their hands reaching through the hole they had made, intertwined with each other’s.
We will go to Yan Bei. We will make it out of here.
The night and the raging winds passed. The sky slowly brightened up. The sounds of heavy footsteps rudely awakened the sleeping children. They swiftly retracted their hands, covering the hole even before they had opened their eyes. They saw black cotton boots stepping on the dusty prison floor, step by step. Crisp sounds of keys jangling together resonated non-stop.
With a clack, about fifty soldiers entered the cell, filling it up fully. They were all dressed in green body armor, adorned with a yellow cloak. The warden carefully stood behind them, nodding and bending his back. Chu Qiao sat in the corner, staring coldly at the guards. Her heart sank.
Yan Xun sat on the floor, his back facing the entrance. Without blinking, the aura of warmth around him faded. He reverted back to his stoic expression, ignoring any outsiders that passed by.
The leader of the guards stared at the Prince of Yan Bei, a member of the Xia Empire’s royal family. His expression was cold, devoid of any respect. He took out a royal decree and proceeded to read it by the book, “By the orders of Sheng Jin Palace, Yan Xun, the Prince of Yan Bei, is to proceed to Jiu You Platform to await his sentence.”
Another guard stepped forward and sneered, his lips remaining straight. “After you, Prince Yan.”
The young man opened his eyes slowly. The look in his eyes was sharp. With a simple glance, he sent an uncontrollable cold shiver up the guard’s spine. He seemed to understand what was going on, but he maintained the arrogant look on his face. He stood up stubbornly and walked towards the entrance of the prison. The group of guards held the shackles that they had prepared. They thought for a long while, before putting it behind their backs. They exchanged eye contact with each other and promptly followed.
The young man’s snow-white robe swept across the ground, stirring up the dirty dust that had settled on the floor, causing it to land on his white boots made of deerskin. A golden dragon with five claws, a pattern exclusive to the royal family, was embroidered on it. Under the reflection of the morning sun, it appeared extremely striking. Even in such a pathetic situation, it was still able to stand out. It seemed as if it was sending out a reminder that the lineage of Yan Bei was still a part of the Xia Empire no matter what.
The wind streamed through the long, dark passageway, bringing with it the remnants of fresh air outside and the bone-piercing cold.
A hand suddenly popped out from within the grills of the prison cell. It was pale and thin, just like refined porcelain. It gave people the misconception that they could break it with just a little strength. However, it was precisely this hand that blocked everyone’s way by grabbing onto Yan Xun’s leg, holding onto his trousers tightly, determined not to let go.
“What are you doing? Are you tired of living?” one of the guards raged, stepping forward and shouting.
Yan Xun looked back and stared at the guard. His expression was cold and serious, suppressing any further words that the guard had to say. The young man squatted down and held onto the child’s thin finger. He frowned, looking at the frail child. He remarked in a low tone, “AhChu, don’t cause trouble.”
“You broke your promise!” Chu Qiao, a bright look in her eyes, looked up stubbornly and uttered, “You said you wouldn’t abandon me.”
Yan Xun frowned. From living in the capital, which was the center of power, for a long time, he sensed that things would not proceed the way he thought the moment he saw the imperial guards. Some things he was unaware of might have happened, which were out of his control. It was hard to guess whether a good thing or a tragedy had happened. How could he let her take the risk by bringing her along with him? The young man locked his eyebrows and declared in a deep tone, “I won’t abandon you. Patiently wait here for me to come back.”
“I don’t believe you,” the child replied stubbornly, not relaxing her grip on his leg. “Bring me along.”
One of the guards suddenly raged, shouting, “What an audacious slave!”
“How dare you call her slave!” Yan Xun turned his head back ferociously, staring sharply at the soldier and remarking coldly, “When did the laws of the royal empire allow you, a lowly person, to exclaim like that in front of me?”
The man’s face turned bright red at that instant. The other guards on both sides restrained him, afraid of any incondonable actions he might commit in anger. Yan Xun ignored him. He turned his head back and looked at the child’s pale face. He frowned, adding, “AhChu, listen to me. It’s for your own good.”
“Bring me along if it’s for my own good.” Chu Qiao looked up and tugged at the young man’s trousers tightly. With an uncompromising stubbornness, she repeated firmly, “Bring me along.”
Time passed fast. The wind blew in front of their eyes. The young man fixed his attention on the child’s eyes, seeing a sharp, decisive glow in them. He knew that given her wisdom, she was fully aware of the dangers that followed. The young man moved his lips, preparing to speak, but was stopped by the determined look in her eyes. After a long while, Yan Xun stood up. He said to the guards behind him, “Open the door.”
“Prince Yan, the royal decree only summoned you...”
Before the guard had finished what he was saying, Yan Xun turned around and took big strides back to his prison cell, saying coldly, “Take my body back to Sheng Jin Palace for the interrogation then.”
The guards discussed among themselves for a long while, before helplessly opening the door of Chu Qiao’s prison cell. After all, she was just a small, lowly servant.
It was bright outside. Yan Xun ran in front of everyone and held the child’s hand, not letting her be bound by any ropes. The young man had a decisive look in his eyes. He looked at the child who was shorter than him by one head, saying deeply, “Are you afraid?”
Chu Qiao looked up, a smile breaking out from her face. “No.”
Yan Xun smiled, walking out of the prison hand-in-hand with Chu Qiao.
Outside the prison, soldiers dressed in body armor lined up neatly in rows, their swords towering over them. Their armor reflected the white snow; the sight was blinding. The soldiers stood neatly in their file with solemn expressions on their faces, as if they were expecting the impending assault of a big enemy force. The civilians stood far out around the outside perimeters, tiptoeing to get a peek of what was going on. They looked on, their eyes full of surprise and fear.
Who exactly needed the royal guards of Sheng Jin Palace to be mobilized as personal escorts?
The winds swept across the land. White eagles flew across the dark, cloudy skies of Zhen Huang, letting out loud, ear-piercing cries. The civilians looked up unanimously; in that instant, they seemingly heard the first sound that signified the downfall of the Xia Empire.
The capital prison was split into the eastern and western regions. There were two main roads leading out of the prison. The eastern road led towards the main street of Jiu Wai, which was where prisoners passed through on their way to be released or exiled. The western road led to Jiu You Platform, where death sentences were carried out.
There was no sight of prisoner carriages, no court trials, sentencing, nor any attempt made to verify any identities. Instead, a solitary black warhorse stood in front of the main gates of the prison. It was well-built, and grunted happily upon seeing Yan Xun, its owner. The young man smiled bleakly, caressed the horse’s head and hoisted Chu Qiao on the horse’s back before mounting it himself. The horse advanced forward along Zhu Wu Street along with the crowd. Along the way, numerous civilians fought to get a glimpse of the spectacle, following behind and journeying towards Jiu You Platform.
The dark clouds in the sky were thick. The violent winds made contact with the two children. Yan Xun opened the front of his robe, covering Chu Qiao’s small body within, revealing only her head.
Chu Qiao turned back and looked at the young man’s handsome face. The look in his eyes was pristine. Yan Xun looked down, smiled at her, and held her hand tightly within his robe.
They did not know what destiny had in mind for them. The storms in this world were too big; they could only look up stubbornly, stagger, and advance forward in anticipation of the heavy storm.
With a dong, everyone walking along the main street stopped in their tracks, looking at the Ya Lang mountains on the Eastern Hongchuan Plains. Heavy sounds of clocks being struck reverberated from Sheng Jin Palace’s Cheng Guang Temple. In total, there were exactly thirty-six sounds.
Yan Xun suddenly turned pale. Chu Qiao sensed the hand holding her trembling. She raised her eyebrows, looking at Yan Xun with a confused look. However, the young man did not say a word.
By the royal empire’s traditions, whenever the Xia Emperor passed away, the clocks had to be struck forty-five times as a form of respect. When the clocks were struck thirty-six times, it signified the passing of a member of the royal family.
The blood of the Xia Empire’s royal family flowed within him. Many years ago, he had paid respects with the Zhao faction of the royal family. He smiled coldly, thinking to himself, what comes around goes around. Time to face the music.
Flags lined the way to Jiu You Platform. Towards the north, the majestic Zi Jin Gate could be seen. The walls were lined with golden tiles, giving off an imposing aura. Jiu You Platform, made entirely of black cymbidium stones, stood horizontally on the flat ground. The reflection of the white snow on the black-coloured ground made the mood even more solemn.
Yan Xun got off his horse and prepared to walk up the platform. At this moment, a middle-aged man wearing an official’s uniform walked towards him, saying, “Prince Yan, this way please.”
“General Meng Tian?” Yan Xun raised his eyebrows slightly, looking in the direction the middle-aged man was pointing at. He replied, “Am I not supposed to sit over there?”
“By orders of Sheng Jin Palace, Prince Yan will take his seat there.”
Yan Xun looked at the execution seat beside the platform. If the royal to be killed today wasn’t him, who could it be?
“In this case, I shall gladly oblige.” The young man turned around and walked up the execution platform to everyone’s surprise, taking his seat on the execution official’s seat. Beside him stood the officials from the Elders’ Court. The young man was strikingly handsome. His look was icy cold, devoid of any anxiety or unease.
Time passed slowly. No prisoners could be seen in the direction of Zhu Wu Street. At that instant, a loud rumbling sound echoed. The majestic Zi Jin Gates started to open slowly. Various powerful figures from the Elders’ Court, the troops from outside royal families, and the warriors from the Military Hall started to stream out. Even Zhuge Huai and Wei Jing followed behind the crowd along with their respective families, taking their seats in the observation stands.
The look on Wei Jing’s face was pale. He put his wrist in his pockets, hiding any signs of injuries. He stared sharply at Chu Qiao, who was hiding behind Yan Xun. Yan Xun, seeing this, turned back to look at Wei Jing. Their stares set off sparks in mid-air. He smiled coldly, then proceeded to pretend that nothing had happened. They assumed their natural postures, a calm look on their faces.
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