Chapter 22: The Crabapple Blossoms Fall Like Blood
(Regarding the four and a half figures Old Master Tang feared, I missed one. Also, where did all the wealth Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong plunder in the Zhou Garden go? Did I really forget to write about it... I’m truly not sensitive enough about these things. I admit my mistake and will be more careful in the future. In a few days, when Xu Yourong returns to the capital, I’ll find a way to circle back and address it. I believe I’ll handle it beautifully. As I mentioned the day before yesterday, updates will slow down in the coming days until I’m sure I’ve caught up, or until I return to Daqing.)
The Qingli Si Yamen was located in the main alley of the Northern Military Command.
Though called an alley, it was actually a very wide straight street, wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side.
At this moment, two carriages sat in the alley, one in front of the other, both empty of passengers. Outside the alley, however, many people had gathered, and as news spread, it was certain that more would soon arrive.
Those outside the alley were spies from various factions in the capital. They dared only to watch the mansion from a distance at the alley’s entrance, not daring to approach.
The mansion itself looked ordinary, with no ominous aura, but not a single pedestrian walked in the alley beneath its stone steps.
Chen Changsheng stood before the mansion’s gate, took out his name card, and handed it to an official. His expression and movements were somewhat stiff.
This was the first time he had formally presented his name card for a visit.
Having never done such a thing before, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Of course, the root of his tension lay in the mansion itself. Not to mention him, even Xuan Yuan Po’s breathing grew heavy, and Tang Thirty-Six, who was usually fearless, remained unusually silent—in fact, ever since the carriage passed through the Stone Archway Main Street and turned into the Northern Military Command’s main alley, confirming their destination, he hadn’t spoken a word.
This mansion was the Qingli Si Yamen, also Zhou Tong’s residence, known in legend as the Zhou Prison.
To many, especially the subjects of the Great Zhou Dynasty, this mansion was the most sinister and terrifying place on the entire continent, even more fearsome than the Snow Old City in the demon realm.
Because the Snow Old City was far away, while the Zhou Prison was right beside them.
The reason this mansion was so sinister and terrifying was, of course, the great figure who lived within.
The name Zhou Tong could stop a child’s night crying—this was not a literary exaggeration but a real occurrence.
Beyond that, there were many similar stories. According to legend, decades ago, the son of the Minister of Rites, after drinking too much at a certain brothel, tried to force himself on a famous courtesan. Just as he was about to succeed, someone outside the door shouted, “Zhou Tong is coming!” The minister’s son was so terrified that he wet himself on the spot and was never able to perform again.
Of course, this doesn’t mean Zhou Tong was a good man who helped educate the capital’s youth or rescue distressed women. It only shows how terrifying his name had become in people’s minds.
The whole world knew Zhou Tong as a brutal torturer, a sinister and evil villain who had harmed countless innocent civilians and upright officials.
If Su Li, because he had killed too many people with his sword in the past, had become a target for many, then everyone in the world wanted Zhou Tong dead. Even officials in his own camp sometimes wished he would hurry up and die. At times, some even felt that Heaven allowing someone like Zhou Tong to exist was a punishment upon the mortal world.
According to the usual story arc, someone like Zhou Tong could only enjoy a brief moment of power. He should have long been executed by a wise ruler or reduced to ashes by a transcendent master. But he hadn’t been.
Because he was a high-ranking minister of the Great Zhou Dynasty, protected by countless soldiers and experts. Moreover, he was himself a Star Gathering realm powerhouse. Most crucially, he was the most trusted dog of Her Holiness the Empress.
Countless people opposed Empress Tianhai’s rule. About seventy percent of them did so because she was a woman; the remaining thirty percent were largely due to the evil deeds Zhou Tong had committed. No one was a fool. Even the most ignorant commoner, after so many years, should have realized that Zhou Tong’s brutality and wickedness were actually the embodiment of Her Holiness’s will.
Her Holiness had ruled the continent for over two hundred years, and her governance was nearly flawless, yet she still had countless opponents.
She understood that as a sovereign, she couldn’t rely solely on gentle persuasion. So she needed a vicious hound, a sharp blade, to tear apart and cut down those who opposed her in the shadows.
On a deeper level, she needed someone to carry out her will of evil.
That person was Zhou Tong.
He perfectly met Her Holiness’s requirements.
He had no childhood trauma, no tangled interests, no helplessness. He simply enjoyed torturing and abusing people under the name of Great Zhou law.
In that sense, Zhou Tong was actually a very pure person.
He was a pure villain.
Today, Chen Changsheng had come to the Qingli Si Yamen to meet Zhou Tong.
From Xining Town to the capital, he had heard too many stories about Zhou Tong, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous—until he squeezed the object hidden in his sleeve, which calmed him a little.
Led by the Qingli Si officials into the mansion, he was surprised to find that this supposedly sinister and terrifying place was actually so serene and beautiful.
They were taken to the deepest courtyard.
The courtyard was small, with two crabapple trees that seemed quite old. Their branches had grown over the wall, still bearing a few pink, unfaded blossoms.
Xuan Yuan Po turned his head, nervously scanning his surroundings.
Tang Thirty-Six raised an eyebrow slightly, lost in thought.
Chen Changsheng, meanwhile, was recalling the buildings and scenery he had seen along the way, trying to deduce where Zhe Xiu was being held.
His current cultivation level was at the peak of Through the Dark. In ordinary sects and schools, this could already be considered expert-level. Though he couldn’t yet sense the world around him, he had developed some intuitive abilities in this regard, especially after learning the Wisdom Sword from Su Li. But this seemingly ordinary mansion clearly had formations far beyond his current level. Not only could he not find where Zhe Xiu was imprisoned, but the more he tried to recall, the more he realized he had even forgotten the path he had taken to enter.
Just then, a voice rang out.
“Breaking through the Through the Dark realm to defeat a Star Gathering expert—this is the first time in ten years. It will surely shake the entire continent. You are now full of spirit, your sword intent swelling. Driving your carriage straight into the Northern Military Command’s main alley is, from a military strategy perspective, quite good. Isn’t charging alone through a pass just another form of deploying troops? But I’ve never heard that you were skilled in such matters. Now I think about it, Su Li must have taught you on the road.”
The voice was calm and ordinary, yet for some reason, as they heard it, Chen Changsheng and the other two seemed to see a sea of blood before their eyes.
In that sea of blood, countless women and children wept in despair, slowly sinking.
Chen Changsheng knew this was an illusion and wasn’t alarmed, though he didn’t understand why the other party was showing him such a scene.
With a slight stir of his consciousness, like a wisp of gentle wind, he woke from the illusion and looked at a middle-aged man who had suddenly appeared in the small courtyard.
The middle-aged man was naturally Zhou Tong.
His face was pale, as if he hadn’t seen sunlight for years. His expression was calm, like a village schoolteacher. His lips were extremely thin, giving him an especially cold and ruthless look.
He wore an official robe but exuded no official authority—only a thick, bloody scent.