Chapter 71

On the day of execution, Lu Datou brought four jailers to hide at the execution ground and observe, ensuring everything proceeded smoothly. The other jailers carried on with their usual duties, waiting for news in the Heavenly Prison.

Everyone held their breath; as long as the heads hadn’t fallen, no one’s heart could rest.

The Yi-character-sized cells, like the Jia-character-sized ones, were all as silent as chickens. Everyone could guess at the secret dealings in the Bing-character-sized cell, but no one spoke up—not even a single word was uttered.

This was an unspoken understanding!

No one needed to teach them, no one needed to warn them; all silently kept their mouths shut, pretending nothing had happened, pretending no prisoner had escaped. There was no substitution, no large-scale deception.

Because everyone knew that if the truth came out, every soul in the Heavenly Prison would be slaughtered—no one could save their own head. To think you could betray them to save yourself? Ha, how naive.

What the Heavenly Prison lacked most was naivety; what it had in abundance was sharp-eyed men.

Countless prisoners who had tried to save themselves by reporting others had passed through these walls—nearly nine out of ten were dead.

This was blood-soaked, tear-stained wisdom!

The lessons learned from the lives of predecessors must be etched into memory.

Yet no one had any heart for duty; all waited for news from the execution ground. They simply gathered in the guard room to play cards and slack off.

Even Chen Guanlou, who never gambled, tossed five qian of silver onto the table to place a bet—this was truly unprecedented.

Li Dahong stared as if he’d seen a miracle and shouted, “I’ve never seen anything like it! Tonight, drinks at the Noble Guest Pavilion—I’m treating everyone!”

“Chief Li is mighty!”

“Chief Li is generous!”

“Count me in!” Chen Guanlou said with grandeur, “No matter the cost, charge it all to me.”

“Chief Chen is generous!”

“Chief Chen is bold!”

Chen Guanlou was truly generous—he always delivered on his word, never cheated, gave exactly what he promised. Li Dahong was fake generosity—he promised to treat, but never paid; every time, he made the junior jailers chip in.

This had happened many times before; the jailers knew it well. So when they called Chen Guanlou generous, it was sincere, heartfelt, genuinely excited.

Li Dahong? Hmph, just an old coin. They praised him only because he was their squad leader.

If he weren’t the squad leader, they’d have broken his skull long ago.

Chen Guanlou had held his ground in the Jia-character-sized cell with few bothering him, precisely because he spent freely and kept his word. Everyone was won over by his character.

After all, he didn’t gamble, so he saved money. When he spent, he had it. When someone was in trouble and asked to borrow, he lent. Compared to Li Dahong and others who only talked of wealth, he was far superior.

Today’s execution supervisor was Sun Daoning, Vice Minister of Justice.

The moment Lu Datou saw him, his heart sank.

Last year’s prison break—the prisoner numbered thirteen escaped, and the Thirteen Cell still sat empty. Above had ordered: until this case was closed, the cell must remain vacant, to prove the innocence of everyone in the Heavenly Prison.

Why so?

Simply because the case’s overseer was Sun Daoning, famed for his nitpicking.

Sun Daoning was a legendary investigator.

Lu Datou whispered to the jailers beside him: “Stay natural. Don’t let Sun Daoning spot a single flaw. Whoever’s nervous or guilty, get out now—don’t drag everyone’s heads into this.”

“Chief, rest easy—we’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Good. You’ve all watched executions before. Act normally, like always.”

“Yes!”

The weather was scorching; the yamen runners wiped sweat constantly.

Sun Daoning wore his full official robes, seemingly unaffected by the heat, appearing cool and composed. A second-rank cultivator—indeed, immune to heat and cold.

The executioner glanced at the sky and whispered to Sun Daoning: “Your Excellency, should we proceed?”

Sun Daoning set down his teacup and asked calmly: “Have the identities been verified?”

“Verified, verified—checked right when we arrived. Here’s the execution warrant, Your Excellency, please review.”

The executioner handed over the document: eighteen prisoners to be beheaded today—from the Heavenly Prison, the Imperial Prison, the Dali Temple, the county jail… all listed, all properly marked, no irregularities.

The executioner assumed Sun Daoning, as execution supervisor, would merely go through the motions—as always. But Sun Daoning, after reading the warrant, rose despite the heat, stepped out of the tent, and walked to the prisoners to verify each identity personally.

The executioner grew angry—he was an official of the Jingzhao Prefecture, independent of the Ministry of Justice. He didn’t owe Sun Daoning any courtesy.

He stood up and joined Sun Daoning. “Your Excellency, what’s the meaning of this? Do you doubt our work was done poorly?”

Without the Emperor’s decree or the Chancellor’s order, how dare a Ministry of Justice official question Jingzhao’s work? True, the execution supervisor was duty-bound to verify identities—but doing so now violated court protocol.

Mutual respect: you give me face, I give you face. To publicly strip someone of face—is this not to make an enemy?

Sun Daoning lightly covered his nose—the prisoners reeked in summer. He murmured: “Why so impatient, Lord Lin? As execution supervisor, I carry the Emperor’s mandate. A little show of diligence is only proper. If I sat idle the whole time, others would call me idle and useless.”

Lord Lin’s face darkened. “Then please hurry, Your Excellency. Don’t delay the hour. This heat is unbearable for everyone.”

“Rest assured—I’ll be quick.”

When Lu Datou saw Sun Daoning personally verifying the prisoners’ identities, his heart clenched. The other jailers felt the same—they’d all witnessed Sun Daoning’s relentless scrutiny.

“Chief, what do we do?”

“Stay calm! No matter what he does, we just do our jobs. As long as we have clean consciences, he can’t frame us.”

Words were easy—but the jailers’ hearts pounded, palms sweating. If they weren’t hardened veterans, masters of deception and concealment, with nerves of steel, any ordinary man would’ve wet himself from guilt.

Lu Datou prayed: let the man stay composed, don’t crack at the critical moment. Fortunately, they’d dosed him with drugs—he wouldn’t blurt out anything untimely.

One after another… soon, Sun Daoning reached the “Empty Thief.”

“Raise your head.”

The “Empty Thief” responded sluggishly; only after Sun Daoning repeated the order did he lift his head. He was filthy, stinking, eyes glazed—death had shattered him.

Sun Daoning stared at the face before him, expressionless, then flicked his eyes toward Lu Datou and the others in the crowd.

Instantly, Lu Datou’s heart leapt: Did he notice? Did he notice? Will he find out?