Chapter 724: Bloodstained Long Street (Part 2)
A wounded, dying beast will let out a strange, low growl, because it wants to keep as much sound in its throat as possible, not wanting anyone to hear its weakness. But when the muscles in his thigh were severed and he collapsed in the snow before the Xue family mansion, Zhou Tong finally couldn't hold back and let out a pained cry.
This cry was masked by the Xue family young lady's scream, but it was still clear, and everyone present heard it.
The Xue family young lady felt even more delighted, and the Xue family steward trembled all over with excitement.
Logically, Madam Xue, who should have had the strongest reaction, remained composed, quietly watching Zhou Tong lying in the snow.
It was very quiet in front of the Xue mansion, only Zhou Tong's heavy breathing could be heard.
No one knew how long passed before Zhou Tong crawled up from the snow, stumbled and continued walking toward the west end of the long street, leaving a trail of bloodstains.
Mo Yu walked to the stone steps, turned to face Madam Xue, and nodded in greeting.
In previous years, Xue Xingchuan and she were both the most prominent figures in the Tianhai Dynasty, so they naturally had dealings with each other.
Madam Xue returned her greeting very seriously and said, "Thank you."
Mo Yu said nothing, nodded again, and followed Zhou Tong.
Madam Xue looked up at the red-warm yet dim sky, thinking of that day, and silently said thank you to Chen Changsheng, wherever he might be.
At the end of the Tianhai Dynasty, her husband went from being a loyal minister of the Great Zhou Dynasty to a traitor, while Zhou Tong, clearly a traitor, became a high-ranking official of the Great Zhou Dynasty.
This was certainly unfair, but the question was, in this world where no one dared to mourn a traitor, who would seek fairness for a traitor?
That day at the National Academy, she said she only hated that Zhou Tong wouldn't die. This was true hatred, hatred tinged with despair, hatred that seeped into her bones.
At that time, Chen Changsheng said nothing, offered no comfort, just quietly watched her.
When he saw her off from the National Academy, he asked her not to leave the capital.
This was a promise.
He would kill Zhou Tong, and let her see it.
So Madam Xue did not return to her hometown but stayed in the capital.
She wanted to witness this scene with her own eyes.
And at this moment, she finally saw it.
From the time Xue Xingchuan was poisoned to death, to his body being exposed, to the memorial ceremony, until tonight, she rarely cried.
But now, two streams of very hot, even scalding tears flowed from her eyes.
She took one last look at Zhou Tong crawling and struggling in the snow, then instructed the steward, "Close the gate."
The Xue family young lady was startled, hugged her arm and protested, "Mother, I still want to watch, I haven't seen enough."
Watching an enemy who wielded immense power, who was arrogant and seemingly invincible, turn into a mangy dog covered in wounds—who wouldn't want to watch? Who could ever see enough?
"Enough."
Madam Xue, whether referring to this matter or her daughter, turned and entered the mansion.
The mansion gate slowly closed, shutting out many things and memories.
...
...
Ping An Avenue was covered in snow, and the snow was covered in blood.
More and more blood flowed from Zhou Tong's body, so much that even the poison within him diluted, and the diminishing blood regained some of its red color.
More and more bloody wounds appeared on his body, densely packed, crisscrossing everywhere, looking utterly miserable.
Those wounds were very deliberate—their depth and location were enough to make him feel extreme pain, yet not enough to immediately end his life.
When she struck with her sword, Mo Yu's beautiful face showed no emotion, utterly indifferent, and with her bloodstained palace dress, she looked like the handmaiden of death.
From time to time, sword light illuminated the dim snowy street.
Zhou Tong trudged painfully through the snow, no longer able to stand steadily, often having to use both hands and feet to move forward a short distance, looking like he might collapse at any moment and never get up again. He could no longer suppress his pain and fear or maintain his old wolf-like silence. Every time the sword light flashed, a miserable scream could be heard.
This was the most thorough humiliation and torture of body and mind, a cruel punishment that seemed like it would never end.
This was, after all, a slow execution by slicing.
If it were anyone else, no matter how strong their will, they would have collapsed by now. Even if they wouldn't kneel and beg their enemy for mercy, they would have tried every means to commit suicide. But not Zhou Tong, because in his life he had tortured and humiliated too many people, inflicted too much cruel punishment on the innocent. He had seen the darkest and most painful scenes in the human world, witnessed true hell. His heart was like a stone soaked in poison water for seventy thousand years, every patch of moss growing on it an incarnation of evil. Even though Mo Yu's brutal methods made his body and soul tremble, they still couldn't make him surrender—whether to her or to fate. Before death arrived, he would never willingly embrace it. On the contrary, he still craved final victory like a beggar.
—If I can just crawl through this blood-soaked long street, I will win.
He screamed, then told himself in his heart.
The dusk grew thicker, turning into night. The white snow on Ping An Avenue reflected the starlight, but it wasn't enough to illuminate the world.
At some point, a dim yellow light suddenly fell, landing on Zhou Tong. Through his terrifying wounds, his bones could be clearly seen.
The distant light had no warmth, but Zhou Tong felt his body suddenly grow warm. In the small courtyard, his vision had already been severely damaged, everything blurry, only able to make out general shapes. But he was very certain that the light was on his right side, the north side of Ping An Avenue.
That was the mansion left in the capital by Grand Preceptor Cheng before his retirement, recently seized by a powerful prince and turned into a princely residence.
It took him a quarter of an hour, enduring the pain of near-execution, crawling more than twenty zhang, to finally leave the Xue mansion's vicinity and arrive here.
He could endure because there was hope. From the very beginning, his hope was here.
His vision was still blurry, but his eyes brightened, as if that lamp had ignited some kind of flame within him.
He still had a trace of true essence left, hidden deep in his meridians. No matter how sharp Mo Yu's sword or how cold her methods, he hadn't used it, because it wasn't enough to escape his desperate situation.
Now, those dew-like remnants of true essence ignited one after another, propelling his body up from the snow and rushing swiftly toward that lamp!
He rushed to the front of that princely residence, completely out of strength, and crashed heavily onto the stone steps.
"I am Zhou Tong! Prince Zhongshan, save me!"
He shouted these words with his last strength.
He had never despaired. For countless years, he had toyed with countless people's minds. He knew very well that neither Mo Yu nor Zhe Xiu would let him die immediately, especially when they had complete control of the situation, because that wouldn't allow them to vent the violent emotions and desire for revenge that lurked in everyone's deepest hearts.
This was his chance, and he had to seize it.
With anger and mockery, he thought, even if you princes pretend you can't hear my screams, can you say you can't hear my cries for help? It was hard for him to say even one word now, but he didn't just shout "save me"—he shouted "Prince, save me," and even remembered to call out that prince's name, all to force him to show himself.
I am Zhou Tong, a minister of the Great Zhou Dynasty!
I am in trouble!
Prince Zhongshan, save me!
...
...
The snow clouds in the sky had somehow converged, blocking the starlight, and light snow began to fall again.
The gate of the Zhongshan Prince's residence opened. Many gates on both sides of Ping An Avenue opened. Many lamps appeared in the night, very bright, even somewhat dazzling.
The long street in the night became a river of silver.
Zhou Tong, in the river, could no longer suppress his emotions. A look of intoxication appeared on his face, and he laughed out loud, almost maniacally.
Dozens of sounds of wind being cut through rang out one after another. The prince's residence experts came to the street.
Mo Yu walked out from the light snow, a few zhang away from Zhou Tong.
Zhou Tong looked at her, a fierce expression appearing on his bloodstained face.
Now how can you kill me? Now it's someone else's turn to kill you.
His eyes conveyed this meaning very clearly.
Mo Yu didn't even glance at him.
The night wind gently brushed her palace skirt, light snow falling on her temples.
She looked at the brightly lit Ping An Avenue, at the dozen or so princely residences, and said, "Her Majesty treated you all in countless terrible ways, but she did at least one good thing."
This was said to the princes who had yet to appear.
"The sons of the late emperor are all still alive."
The lamplight illuminated her face, making her even more radiant and beautiful.
Yet her expression remained as cold as ever, her brows and eyes full of toughness, vaguely resembling the departed one.
"Every single one of you, you're all still alive."
"It was Her Majesty who let you live until tonight."
"Tonight, I want you to repay this good deed."
"I want him dead."
The light snow fell softly, without a sound, like the silence of the long street at this moment.
No one knew how long passed before someone in the lamplight waved a hand.
Zhou Tong's vision was blurry, unable to see the person's face clearly, only able to make out that they were wearing bright yellow clothes.
The Zhongshan Prince's residence didn't close its gate, but those who had come outside all retreated back inside.
What was going on?
Zhou Tong found this absurd, thinking, Prince, aren't you afraid of the Dao Lord's wrath?
Mo Yu walked behind him.
Fear once again enveloped his body.
He gasped and crawled forward.
On Ping An Avenue, there were over a dozen princely residences, plus the Tianhai family, plus ministers. Prince Zhongshan was a madman, but was everyone mad?
He crawled and crawled and crawled, crawling endlessly, trying to reach the next place with lights.
But before he could get close, the lights there went out.
Even that princely residence closed its gate.
Then, the sound of heavy gates slowly closing rang out continuously, and the lights on the street went out one by one.
The night grew deeper and deeper.
Zhou Tong grew colder and colder.
He crawled through the cold, wet snow, the bloodstained long street. All his silence and endurance, born from hope, ended in... despair.