Chapter 203

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Protagonist:

Shaowei

Liu Qi

The carriage reached a deserted place; Shaowei brought Zhan Zhan down to proceed on foot, the two of them, one large and one small, cloaked in light-gray coarse hemp cloaks that covered their hair buns and trailed to their feet.

Zhan Zhan followed the Great Witch God silently, asking nothing, only memorizing the route, until they arrived at a very shabby small courtyard.

Entering a basement room, they saw a figure lying helplessly on the ground, his upper body bound, blood seeping from his hands and feet, his mouth stuffed with hemp cloth.

"Is it him?" Shaowei asked Zhan Zhan.

Zhan Zhan identified him and nodded: "Yes."

The person on the ground tried to struggle, emitting a muffled, dull sound, gazing at the girl who could make the decision, his eyes filled with a plea to surrender, as if saying he was very useful and willing to obey orders.

Shaowei also looked at him.

This person was Song Ya.

After Liang Prince was exposed, his subordinates scattered like monkeys, some returning to Liang Guo to report, others fleeing on their own; Song Ya, who had served Liang Prince, also quickly left Chang'an.

Shaowei had heard of this man's past misdeeds from household slaves, and since their encounters she had felt deep disgust toward him, resolving to capture and execute this ill-omened evil crow.

Song Ya's movement technique was cunning and hard to catch, but this time, when leaving the capital, he needed to evade the Court's large-scale pursuit of Liang Prince's remnants, inevitably restricting his movements and narrowing his choice of routes.

Moreover, Shaowei's subordinates were mostly wandering heroes and assassins from the jianghu, well-versed in escape routes and methods; they had laid nets of heaven and earth on several necessary routes in advance, finally capturing this evil-doer the day before yesterday.

Since Shaowei's order was "alive is fine, disability doesn't matter," to prevent this slippery person from escaping, the captors severed his hand and foot tendons together.

Not to mention severed hands and feet; even if he were completely intact, Shaowei could not possibly care about his surrendering gaze.

She asked Zhan Zhan: "Dare to kill him? If you don't dare, I'll kill him."

Zhan Zhan stared fixedly at the person on the ground; she clearly remembered that day, sunny with a gentle breeze, when she was digging wild vegetables behind the academy, and this person appeared like a ghostly shadow, smiling at her; when she woke up, she was already in an iron cage.

Trapped for over three hundred days as a test subject, she remembered clearly everything that happened each day; even though her emotions were lacking, pain and fear had become numb together, but even judging only by reason, she knew what thoughts she should have: let him die.

"Witch God, I dare to kill," Zhan Zhan said honestly without fear: "but I don't know how, afraid I won't kill well."

Shaowei: "I can teach you."

As the words fell, Shaowei stepped on Song Ya's writhing chest and took hold of Zhan Zhan's hand gripping the short knife.

The two figures lowered themselves, shadows falling; Song Ya widened his eyes, seeing in his vision the girl's exquisite hair bun and the young girl's eyes seriously learning, as if conducting an innocent and pure initiation.

How strange this was; Song Ya shuddered without cold, seeing the short knife approach, his pupils contracted, and scenes from his past of bullying and occupying women flashed disorderly in his mind—those women begging in fear while he teased and laughed.

In an instant, it was as if souls had switched; the whole person was drowned in strange fear, while the innocent teaching had progressed to the practical stage.

"If your strength is not enough, definitely don't rush to slash horizontally; if you don't cut deep enough, you'll waste the opportunity; you must use all your strength, like this—" Shaowei gripped Zhan Zhan's hand, and while speaking, suddenly drove the knife tip diagonally into that trembling, tense neck.

"First stab in, then stir, stir through the tendons and vessels blocking the way, then you can sweep horizontally all at once." While speaking, Shaowei held Zhan Zhan's hand, wielding the knife like a brush, drawing a vermilion line across that neck; before the blood beads splattered, Song Ya saw the shadow above disperse, and the knife and foot were both withdrawn; the killer had not stained herself in the slightest.

His chest was no longer trampled and imprisoned; he widened his eyes, finally able to try to lift his body, but before he could truly sit up, he suddenly fell back heavily onto his back, making a "bang" sound.

Another "bang" overlapped with it; Zhan Zhan knelt and kowtowed heavily.

Shaowei wiped the short knife clean, put it away close to her body, reached out and grabbed one of Zhan Zhan's arms, pulling her up.

The household slave also grabbed one of Song Ya's arms and dragged him out, preparing to throw him onto a flatbed cart after dark, as usual to discard him.

Shaowei walked out of the dark room, Zhan Zhan following behind; at this moment, what flashed in Zhan Zhan's mind was the scene of the Great Witch God leading her away from that wider basement room back then.

The Great Witch God saved her, then delivered an enemy for her to kill, ending her painful ordeal; what did she have to offer as a sacrificial gift to the god?

Zhan Zhan lowered her head, looking at her own body; she had nothing, only this body.

But this body was also dying soon.

"Not necessarily must die."

The sky was already completely dark; in the Jiang Zhai residence, Jiang Fu examined the pulse of the thin girl kneeling silently before him and sighed as he spoke.

Zhan Zhan looked at the person before her; in her heart just a moment ago she had been thinking that this must be that elegant and dashing Female Monarch whom the Great Witch God had asked about when they first met.

"You took too much medicine, and unlike pills, the medicinal nature you took is too violent; this body is already a small medicine jar full of cracks." The Female Monarch with a head full of snow-white hair tied with a green ribbon looked at her, half-joking, half-pitying:

"I have a dangerous method, treating a dead sparrow as a live sparrow, using poison to attack poison, which can forcibly straighten out the poison in your body, making it barely controllable, but the process is very painful; afterward you need to take medicine every day, and it will also be hard to live long; perhaps you can live past the age of thirty; are you willing?"

Zhan Zhan thought seriously and asked: "Taking medicine every day, wouldn't that cost a lot of silver?"

Zhan Zhan, standing by the table, raised a claw: "The King is rich enough to rival a country, the King is rich enough to rival a country!"

Shaowei glared at it: "Don't talk nonsense, there isn't that much money!"

Then she looked at Zhan Zhan and said: "But taking medicine is not a problem."

The reason she chose to save Zhan Zhan was both because it was within her power and because Zhan Zhan had similarities to herself; more importantly, this child was the beginning of her first understanding of the weight of life, holding different significance.

Since the person paying had nodded, Jiang Fu smiled at Zhan Zhan and said: "Misfortune and fortune depend on each other; you are rational and calm, not afraid and not flustered; if you survive, in the future you will surely be a peerless extraordinary bird with superb skills, able to soar high in the sky."

Xiao Yu, who had been peeking by the doorframe outside, saw this and ran to the kitchen to notify Mo Li to add another portion of food from now on.

That night, Xiao Yu pulled Zhan Zhan to sleep in the same room; Zhan Zhan was three years older than her, but she had the airs of a senior sister, patting her chest and planning for Zhan Zhan's future: "After you recover your body and get a bit fatter, I'll take you to practice stick fighting and learn writing!"

She also said: "I know your name is Zhan Zhan now; I'm Xiao Yu; you fly in the sky, I swim in the water... Mo Li runs on the ground! The Young Master can go to heaven, enter earth, dive underwater, cross mountains—capable of anything!"

Immediately after, she spoke of the Head of Household, Uncle Slave, and the people in the front courtyard.

Zhan Zhan heard everything and didn't forget; many of Xiao Yu's words were suspect as nonsense, but Zhan Zhan still listened very seriously.

Inside the window, Xiao Yu spoke nonstop like bubbling sounds; Zhan Zhan was extremely quiet; instead, a nightingale passing outside the window let out short cries.

The nightingale flew past the Xian Tai Gong with lamps hanging high, past a silent courtyard already empty and without lamps.

Ming Dan, who was still here during the day, was now in the Xiuyi Yu; continuous rain had seeped damp traces onto the prison walls, shaped like twisted human shadows.

Ming Dan huddled in the corner, her expression dazed and panicked, looking at that "human shadow," murmuring and questioning: "Zhu Niang... was it you who made me come here? You've harmed me into this state... You truly don't have sincere feelings for me, right?"

The damp wall wouldn't answer; she cried, grabbed a handful of straw, and threw it: "You dare not answer, that's that!"

Passing the jailer outside the cells who shook his head, then passing another prison cell, a man's gradually mad laughter rang out; hearing the footsteps, he lunged at the cell door, striking the iron bars, shouting that he wanted to see his uncle, only to be met with stern threats from the jailer.

In another cell reserved for serious criminals, Prince Liang sat slumped, his hands bound in iron cuffs, head bowed and eyes closed, yet he was the calmest of them all.

Only when the cell door was opened did a youth's voice ring out: "All of you, withdraw; I wish to speak alone with Uncle Wang."

The Embroidered Uniform Guard who had led the way withdrew, replaced by Deng Hu standing guard.

Prince Liang opened his eyes, gazing at the dazzling youth appearing in the cell, yet he spoke: "Good lad, you handle matters for your Imperial Uncle with all too much devotion..."

What he naturally referred to was the matter of his capture; Liu Qi did not rush to reply, but instead heard him ask: "Lad, do you truly not know, do you truly not understand?"

Eyes meeting, Liu Qi spoke in a low voice: "Uncle Wang, I know."

Prince Liang's pupils contracted slightly, gazing steadily at the upright youth in dark robes, then suddenly laughed soundlessly: "Indeed a good lad... Victory makes a king, defeat makes a bandit; Uncle Wang does not fear death, nor has he ever been one who cannot afford to lose. You and I each serve our own cause, each rely on our own abilities, but if you truly understand in your heart, then you and Uncle Wang may be said to tread different paths to the same end. Since it is so, Uncle Wang bears you no blame."

By the end of his words, there was even some pity like that of close kin and elders, mixed with a trace of resonance between kindred spirits.

Liu Qi gazed at those eyes where a glimmer of tears surfaced.

Since childhood he had often heard people say this Uncle Wang, in his youth, brandished a blade and rode a horse, imposing and majestic, speaking and acting with courage and candor.

Though the man before him was physically maimed, at this moment it seemed as if the past reappeared, an old friend returned to his place, allowing him to glimpse a trace of former valor.

In the exchange of gazes, they set aside the right and wrong of their current positions; words of probing were now unnecessary. Liu Qi said: "So the secret correspondence with the Xiongnu back then did not come from Uncle Wang's hand."

Prince Liang slowly shook his head: "Since you have come here to see me in person, it shows you have found no suspicion against me."

Back then Chiyang went to Liang Guo and awakened sixty percent of his senses; recently, after suffering a great upheaval and enduring severe punishment, his body and senses as if burned by fire, another twenty percent of his senses were awakened here in the burning.

His gaze could almost be called clear: "I and Ling Ke were both military officers; I admired him, respected him. The year he met trouble, I had not yet harbored the thoughts of today."

Saying this, Prince Liang spoke with some mockery: "Your mother and your maternal uncle were both taught calligraphy by your Imperial Uncle; in imitating your maternal uncle's handwriting, no one would be more adept than your Imperial Uncle. This matter from beginning to end may well have been plotted by him personally, which is why you have long been unable to find anyone else."

Liu Qi neither agreed nor disagreed.

He had not failed to consider this possibility, but when the incident occurred back then, he himself was in the Capital; observing the Emperor's various reactions before and after, he had no clear answer in his heart. Persistently tracking down the forger of the secret letters was because he did not wish to let go of any possible enemy.

"You thieving lad, you only listen to what I say but dare not speak yourself... too cautious." Prince Liang murmured in a low voice: "This is also good; living is not easy."

"Do Uncle Wang a favor." Prince Liang raised his eyes, as if confiding some obsession: "I want to see your Imperial Uncle; I must see him once."

He had words in his mouth and grievances in his heart; this meeting was unavoidable.

But the Emperor long refused to grant an audience, and under torture, his body could not hold out much longer.

Prince Liang gazed at the youth half-hidden in the dimness: "Si Tui, Uncle Wang will not let you help this favor for nothing."

Liu Qi: "Uncle Wang, this journey of mine is precisely to help you fulfill this wish."

After a moment's stunned silence, Prince Liang laughed aloud, genuine appreciation gradually appearing in his eyes, entrusting some unspoken great hope.

He had a strong impression of these two imperial princes born of the Ling Family; when this young Si Tui was a child, though he was already crippled, his eyes were not blind, and he could see this child should have been a spirited young general, now drowned in this sea of bitterness... and whose fault was this?

The next day, Prince Liang knelt slumped before the imperial steps of the main hall, looking up at the answer to this question.

The emperor leaning against the back of the Dragon Case wore a Dragon Robe of dark red, without a crown; his waxen-yellow face, fully exposed, was gilded by the surrounding gold and bronze vessels, like an old azure dragon statue coated in dark gold lacquer.

The emperor with the aspect of an old dragon looked at his younger brother below the steps, sorrow outweighing anger in his eyes: "Yi Ming hates me and curses me; once I knew, even with a hundred kinds of anger, I could still understand. At first, it was I who, to win over hearts, let her marry a prince consort she disliked. It was also I who, after learning she killed the prince consort, to smooth things over and preserve dignity, forced her to become a Nuguan to reflect, to appease her in-laws demanding justice..."

"But Liu Fu, ah Liu Fu, you and I are the only brothers born of the same mother. As children we fought together; as adults we fought in wars together. Who knows how many life-and-death trials we shared? Whether within or without, we always stood shoulder to shoulder against enemies! For me you could even lay down your life, and I pitied you, valued you, was grateful to you, giving you Liang Guo and even the right to mint coin. I feel guilty toward Yi Ming, but ask: have I ever shortchanged you or doubted you? Then why, in the end, did even you betray me?!"

Long not appearing was long unwilling and not daring to meet, unwilling to personally tear open this great wound whose flesh and blood was true feeling.

Prince Liang closed his eyes, a trace of tear tracks overflowing from the corners of his eyes.

The Emperor's questioning pressed down again: "You clamor to see me, yet you listen to the seduction of a demonic Taoist and commit such a shameful, foolish act. In the end, what face do you have to shout to see me!"

"Imperial Brother..." Prince Liang opened his tear-filled eyes, enduring as he spoke: "Only because my heart is bitter, too bitter... so much so that I think this exposure is not entirely a bad thing. At least I can finally bring out the bitterness in my heart to speak of it. If you do not allow me to pour it out to you, Imperial Brother, I cannot die with my eyes closed."

Hearing these long-absent fluent words, no longer stammering, the Emperor slowly nodded and nodded again, also suppressing his emotions: "Good, good. Today I permit you to speak; speak, and I will listen. I want to hear well just what earth-shattering bitterness you have."

Upon these words, Prince Liang, hands bound in chains, still persisted in the difficult kowtow. After straightening his upper body, he gritted his teeth, holding back tears, and spoke.

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