Chapter 193

Half a month after the Grand Lord returned to the capital, word finally came from above: in three days, Wang Shuner would be taken to the execution ground and publicly beheaded.

The old emperor ordered a thousand cuts of lingchi—not one cut fewer.

If Wang Shuner died before reaching a thousand cuts, the executioner would die too.

This is the Emperor's command!

Every executioner in the capital was stunned.

Why?

They simply didn't have the skill!

They knew how to perform lingchi, but none could guarantee the prisoner would survive a thousand cuts. Their technique was crude, and they lacked practice.

After all, lingchi for capital crimes occurred only once every ten or twenty years.

This craft was passed father to son, son to grandson—family lineage alone. Without practice, mere talk could never forge the skill.

Eventually, someone remembered Old Zhang from the Tianlao prison's execution chamber.

In all of the capital, only Old Zhang possessed the skill to perform a thousand cuts and keep the prisoner alive.

Orders came down: Old Zhang was to come out of retirement.

Chen Guanlou entered the deepest cell and, though his heart ached, told Wang Shuner: "In three days, you will be taken to the execution ground for a thousand cuts of lingchi."

Wang Shuner paused, then his expression turned calm. "I expected it."

"If you need anything, Master Wang, speak freely. I can have the prison physician prepare medicine for you."

In Tianlao, all manner of underworld knowledge and obscure arts could be found. The prison physician naturally possessed skills unavailable outside—such as a medicinal formula to dull pain during lingchi. It was essentially an anesthetic.

As long as the money was paid, anything could be arranged.

These were survival tactics of the lowly; those above might not know, and even if they did, they rarely pursued it. The old emperor certainly had no idea of these arrangements.

Deceive superiors, never subordinates—that was the old rule of officialdom.

Wang Shuner stared blankly for a moment, then understood Chen Guanlou's meaning. He bowed gratefully: "Thank you, Chen Tou. No need."

True man!

This was lingchi—a thousand cuts, lasting three days.

Chen Guanlou could not imagine what kind of willpower, what kind of fearless spirit, could face such torture with such calm.

He himself feared death!

"Master Wang, you may still change your mind. Just send a guard to tell me."

Wang Shuner smiled, light and unburdened. "I appreciate your kindness, Chen Tou. As sworn brother to the Great Ming Emperor, I am no coward."

Chen Guanlou bowed deeply, full of admiration, then turned and left.

Chen Guanxin did not understand Chen Guanlou's actions. "He's just a rebel leader. Why treat him with such respect?"

Chen Guanlou glanced at him. "They betrayed the court, betrayed the Son of Heaven—but they stood by the people of Jinzhou. A man who truly cared for his people, merely chose the wrong path and trusted the wrong man—offering him what little help I can, what harm is that?"

Chen Guanxin opened his mouth, then struggled to find his voice. "But he's still a rebel. The court spent vast sums suppressing him and now faces a deficit of over a million taels. That deficit will fall on the people of other prefectures. He may have stood by Jinzhou's people—but he betrayed those of other prefectures."

Chen Guanlou snorted. "Do you truly believe that without the Jinzhou rebels, the court would have no deficit? The Son of Heaven pursues the Dao and builds palaces—do you think those funds fell from heaven? The Jinzhou rebels merely forced the court to redirect construction funds toward suppression. The burden on other prefectures doesn't stem from the Jinzhou rebels. Where it does, your clever head knows better than I do."

Chen Guanxin's head spun. He glanced nervously around, then exhaled when he confirmed no one was listening. "Chen Tou, you can't say that here! This is the capital—the Son of Heaven's doorstep!"

"I know. I won't say it again."

"Lao-ge…" Chen Guanxin suddenly changed his tone, hesitating.

"Speak your mind."

"Lao-ge, are you born with rebellious bones?"

"Nonsense! I'm a model citizen!" Chen Guanlou shot back sharply. "I obey the law, serve diligently, never break rules. There aren't many good citizens like me left in the capital. How dare you say I have rebellious bones? You're the one with rebellious bones—otherwise why does your father always pick on you?"

Chen Guanlou rubbed the back of his head. "My old man's gone senile. Look—my skull's flat. Where's the rebellious bone? Don't believe me? Feel it. Lao-ge, dare you touch it?"

Chen Guanlou kicked him away. Wanting to feel his skull? He deserved it.

While waiting, Chen Guanlou reached behind his head, touched it—flat. No rebellious bone. Always talking nonsense.

He had principles, a conscience—and yet they called him born with rebellious bones. Superstition was truly absurd.

Wang Shuner never changed his mind. He never asked the physician for medicine.

On the day of execution, identity verified, he was taken to the execution ground. Chen Guanlou led the escort personally.

This was Fan Yucheng's final case before his promotion. He specifically warned Chen Guanlou: "Take good care of Wang Shuner. Keep him alive until the last cut. Don't make a mistake. Did you prepare the ginseng for sustaining life?"

"Your Excellency, rest assured. I bought fifty-year ginseng—it's perfect for keeping him alive."

Fan Yucheng relaxed. Inside, he grumbled at the old emperor's senseless extravagance—wasting fifty-year ginseng, all that money! His money! Even though it came from the public account, Fan Yucheng had long treated public funds as his own.

On the way to the execution ground, Chen Guanlou asked Wang Shuner one last time: "You can still change your mind."

Could one endure a thousand cuts without anesthesia?

Too horrific!

Wang Shuner lifted his head, gazing at the sky he hadn't seen for over a month. "The people fear not death—why threaten them with it? I tell the world, I tell Emperor Taixing: even three thousand cuts of lingchi cannot silence the people's will! Today, I die for this truth—tomorrow, countless others will vindicate me. Chen Tou, don't plead further. My resolve is absolute."

Sigh.

Chen Guanlou could only sigh.

He didn't understand.

He only admired him deeply.

As they neared the execution ground, Chen Guanlou halted.

Xiao Jin hurriedly asked: "Chen Tou, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Chen Guanlou's face was calm, but his heart churned. A great mountain—a mountain impossible to climb—had arrived: a ninth-rank martial artist at the execution ground. What did he intend?

Was someone planning to storm the execution ground today?

A ninth-rank martial artist wouldn't come just for entertainment.

The pressure of a ninth-rank martial artist forced Chen Guanlou to suppress his thoughts, yet sweat soaked his clothes.

He dared not make a single misstep. Standing beside Wang Shuner, he was the center of attention today. Any lapse might draw suspicion from the ninth-rank martial artist.