Chapter 462

The east turned pale with the dawn.

Blood, chilling to behold, coated the roof and ground of the Tianlao prison; some had not yet congealed.

The jailers emerged from the main cellblock, stared at the scene, each trembling inside.

If Chen Yuli had not been there last night, how many of them would have died? The consequences were unimaginable.

Xiao Jin was drenched in cold sweat.

The chill of early spring wind could not dispel the beads of sweat on his body.

He hurried to Chen Guanlou's side. "My lord, are you unharmed?"

Chen Guanlou tossed his standard-issue waist saber to a jailer to clean, washed his hands meticulously, and said casually, "Those who came last night were merely pawns—not worth mentioning. Today is the critical day. The most formidable figures will surely appear today."

"Are you saying today is dangerous?"

"Extremely dangerous. So after you deliver the prisoner to the altar, take your men and leave quickly. Don't linger to gawk—your life may be forfeit."

"This… this is the Heaven-Worship Ceremony! The Embroidered Uniform Guard has deployed fully, and the Capital Garrison has stationed over a thousand soldiers. Who would dare cause trouble during the Heaven-Worship Ceremony?"

"You vastly underestimate the courage and ambition of certain people. We're lowly soldiers—don't overthink. Just follow my orders. Above all, preserve your life."

"Will there be danger on the journey?" Xiao Jin asked, trembling.

Chen Guanlou paused to think. "Probably not. Acting en route no longer serves any purpose. Great Ming Wang didn't die last night; when he dies today no longer matters."

Xiao Jin looked utterly confused—why did Great Ming Wang surviving last night make today's death meaningless? What logic was this?

Chen Guanlou offered no explanation.

He urged the jailers to eat a hearty meal, wash thoroughly, and had Great Ming Wang washed again.

The jailers changed into clean, neat uniforms; Great Ming Wang donned a white prison robe, specially made for today. White cloth stained with crimson blood would more vividly stir the spectators' senses.

Great Ming Wang had fasted and gone without water all night; his lips were cracked.

Chen Guanlou signaled a jailer to soak a cloth in water and wipe Great Ming Wang's lips.

Great Ming Wang greedily licked the precious water and protested, "Give me water to drink!"

"Drink too much, you'll urinate too often—easily humiliating, undignified. Great Ming Wang, everyone hopes you die with dignity, not in filth and disgrace. You are a symbol; all under heaven watch you. Are you certain you want to drink?"

Chen Guanlou's question silenced Great Ming Wang; he clenched his teeth, then abandoned his demand for water.

He sighed, bitter smile on his lips. "Chen Yuli, you truly understand how to manipulate hearts. Though I wish you dead, I must admit—you're right. I'll follow your orders. Fine, I won't drink. I, Great Ming Wang, will stand upright. Let all under heaven see how treacherous and cruel the old emperor is, and how I suffer only for the people—I fear not death."

"Excellent! This is the Great Ming Wang people envision!" Chen Guanlou instantly became a cheerleader, stoking Great Ming Wang's spirit—and the jailers' morale.

The hour has come!

Set out!

Great Ming Wang was locked inside the prisoner cart.

The gates of Tianlao slowly opened.

Outside, the Liùshànmen had already prepared.

Chen Guanlou led dozens of jailers, personally escorting Great Ming Wang to the altar in the northern city.

Rumor had it the altar was grand and majestic; the old emperor was especially pleased. The ministers found no fault.

Jiang Tu was indeed skilled in construction.

The prisoner cart began moving, slowly exiting Tianlao.

Chen Guanlou walked behind the cart, blending into the jailers, watching the surroundings.

Too many unfamiliar faces. Too many hostile glances—but no killing intent. Merely following.

His prediction was correct: after last night, killing Great Ming Wang meant nothing. His safe arrival at the altar might better serve certain interests.

These hostile glances resembled surveillance—ensuring no interference along the way. If anyone stirred, these watchers would eliminate the threat before Liùshànmen even intervened.

The morning in Jingcheng was lively.

Today, especially so—as if every soul in the capital had gathered along the northern road. Crowds thronged three layers deep, impenetrable. The roadsides were packed; houses, teahouses, and taverns lining them overflowed.

This was a rare spectacle—one must witness it. The dinner-table gossip for the next twenty years depended on today.

Whether one could show off, or boast convincingly, hinged on today.

Thus, the onlookers strained their eyes, determined to memorize every detail.

Xiao Jin and his men were terrified. At one point, they walked in unison—left foot, left foot.

Chen Guanlou kicked them. Only then did the jailers reluctantly overcome their fear—but their faces remained grim, unnaturally serious.

Liùshànmen surrounded the prisoner cart, on high alert, as if facing an enemy army.

Embroidered Uniform Guards mingled in the crowd, some faces familiar to him. The soldiers were easy to spot—their bearing and conduct clearly differed from ordinary civilians.

Though the crowd was vast, Liùshànmen cleared a path—smooth passage all the way.

The altar loomed ahead; its peak visible in the distance.

Great Ming Wang suddenly erupted, standing atop the cart and shouting: "Emperor Taixing is unworthy, abandoned by Heaven! The Great Qian realm will surely collapse!"

The crowd froze—as if a pause button had been pressed. The vast outdoor space fell utterly silent, save for the wind.

The jailers panicked.

Chen Guanlou barked: "What's the panic? Keep moving. Great Ming Wang, if you don't want your mouth gagged, and if you still wish to speak before His Majesty, then shut up now. Otherwise, I'll seal your mouth shut—then you won't get to speak even at the altar."

Great Ming Wang: …

He looked down at Chen Guanlou. "Chen Yuli, why must you be so cruel?"

"Have you learned to be silent?" Chen Guanlou asked coldly, like a machine.

Great Ming Wang chuckled. "Fine. I'll be silent. The people of Jingcheng have all been bewitched by the court—numb, indifferent."

"You're wrong. They're not bewitched—they understand the emperor knows not to harm those near him. For years, Jingcheng's people have lived reasonably well. Aside from rising prices, no natural or man-made disasters. Even when taxes rose, the court always spared Jingcheng. This is the people's blessing—and thus, their approval of the court and the emperor far exceeds that of the provinces."

That's why most Jingcheng residents couldn't understand why people in the provinces always wanted to rebel. Why risk chaos when life is good?

What they didn't know: people in the provinces had never known good days—not even stable ones.

The court itself was the greatest obstacle to peace—the true source of all suffering.