Chapter 725: The Imperial Decree in the Snow
Zhou Tong struggled and crawled through the snow, his throat making gurgling sounds, which eventually turned into a weak, tearful cry.
"Save me... someone save me..."
Earlier, his wails and lamentations had been somewhat feigned. But from the Zhou Prison underground, to the sunlit courtyard, to the snow-covered long street, he had fled endlessly, chasing hope, only to be repeatedly disappointed. Until this moment, he finally fell into despair, his will crumbling like a dam breached by a flood.
He wept and cried out in agony, the blood and grime on his face partially washed away by old tears, then frozen by the cold wind into a paste-like crust, hideous to behold.
His cries were like those of a night owl, utterly grating to the ears.
As the most infamous cruel official, Zhou Tong had never forgiven this world, nor had he ever shown it a shred of kindness, nor saved it even once. So naturally, this world was utterly cold to him, would not forgive him, and no one would come to save him. The lights on Peace Avenue gradually faded into the distance, and the road ahead of him was pitch black.
Several mansions still had their doors open. The closest to Zhou Tong was the Zhongshan Prince Manor. Deep within the manor, lights blazed brightly. The Prince of Zhongshan sat in a chair, holding a frozen pear in his hand, recalling Zhou Tong's pitiful appearance earlier at the manor gate. He felt immense delight, and even the pear seemed several times sweeter.
A manor official beside him hesitated, then said, "I still feel something is wrong."
"What's wrong? I've long wanted to tear that old dog to pieces."
The Prince of Zhongshan was silent for a moment, then said, "Besides, what Mo Yu said makes sense. Whether there was affection or not, the fact that I'm alive today is a grace."
The official was greatly surprised, never expecting that the prince had truly been swayed by Mo Yu's words.
One had to know that among the princes scattered across the various prefectures over the years, the Prince of Zhongshan had suffered the worst fate. Compared to those collateral princes who had been cruelly poisoned to death, he had indeed survived, but being forced to eat excrement and feign madness... that was a fate more terrifying than death.
"Is excrement tasty? Of course not. But have you ever considered that the woman who forced me to eat excrement back then wouldn't know I was feigning madness?"
The Prince of Zhongshan said expressionlessly, "She certainly knew I was feigning madness. The reason she didn't expose me was that she enjoyed watching me eat excrement. But at least she didn't let me die. Compared to death, what is eating excrement? We who are born into the imperial family—which of us doesn't have the skill to eat excrement?"
Over a dozen princely manors, for various reasons, closed their gates, shutting Zhou Tong out.
The most honest and timid Prince of Louyang hid deep beneath three layers of bedding, worrying about the safety of his acquaintance Mo Yu while silently cursing Zhou Tong in his heart.
The most seasoned, prudent, and powerful Prince of Xiang was not even in his manor tonight.
The gate of the Prince of Xiang's manor stood open. The young Prince of Chenliu stood in the lamplight, his expression calm, though a trace of worry lingered between his brows.
Zhou Tong crawled across the snow, and Mo Yu followed behind.
The Prince of Chenliu ignored Zhou Tong and said to Mo Yu, "That's enough."
Mo Yu didn't respond to him. She continued using her sword like a whip, driving the blood-soaked Zhou Tong forward.
At the end of Peace Avenue stood a vast estate, exquisitely decorated and luxurious, surpassing even the newly built Prince of Xiang's manor.
This was the Tianhai family—the most powerful family on the entire continent for the past two hundred years. The Tianhai family's important figures, such as clan leader Tianhai Chengwu and several elders, naturally wouldn't remain in the capital on such a sensitive night. They had long since departed for their estates in the outskirts.
The main gate was wide open, lights blazing. Tianhai Shengxue stood beneath the lamplight, his white robes as pure as snow.
Zhou Tong crawled past the snow before the gate and glanced at him, his eyes venomous, but he no longer had the strength to beg for help or hurl insults.
A string of silvery laughter rang out, then gradually turned into sobs.
The Princess of Ping was held back behind Tianhai Shengxue.
After the palace coup, she had been brought back by the Tianhai family. It was said that in time, she might marry the Prince of Chenliu.
Watching Zhou Tong struggle and crawl in the snow, she laughed somewhat maniacally, tears streaming down her pretty face.
"You look just like a dog today!"
She shouted at Zhou Tong, as if cursing him.
Tianhai Shengxue didn't stop her, only held her by the shoulder, preventing her from acting impulsively against Zhou Tong.
He looked at Mo Yu, drenched in blood, and said very seriously, "That's enough."
It carried the same meaning as the Prince of Chenliu's words.
Mo Yu was the number one target the court was determined to capture.
Mo Yu still didn't speak. She had returned to the capital without any intention of leaving alive.
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...
Zhou Tong had lost his senses. Even despair and anger had receded from his consciousness. In his final moments, only one question remained.
Why had no one come to save him? Dean Shang only needed to lift a finger to let him live. So why was he going to die?
Just like those great beasts on the northern snowfields, when they sensed death approaching, they instinctively headed toward their most familiar place to await the end.
For Zhou Tong, his most familiar place was naturally that small courtyard on North Military Command Alley. So he crawled in that direction.
It was actually very close to Peace Avenue. When the Xue residence had held its memorial service, he had been able to rush over with his subordinates so quickly precisely because of this.
But crawling across the icy, snowy street made the journey unbearably long, especially since sword light still occasionally flared behind him.
Mo Yu continued to swing her sword from time to time. Each time the blade fell, it sliced another piece of flesh from Zhou Tong's body.
Zhou Tong's blood was nearly drained. His screams grew fainter and fainter until they were silent. He was like a senseless wooden puppet, crawling endlessly across the snow.
Crowds of onlookers appeared on both sides of the street. They watched the blood-soaked Zhou Tong being continuously cut and humiliated. After the initial shock, it turned into an extreme form of pleasure. Every time Mo Yu swung her sword and cut off a piece of Zhou Tong's flesh, the crowd would erupt in cheers.
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...
A light snow was still falling from the sky. The western night sky was already dotted with stars.
The ground of that courtyard on North Military Command Alley had been destroyed, sliced into countless fragments by countless sharp swords.
The Zhou Prison was truly ruined. Whether it was the above-ground buildings, the underground dungeons, or the hidden cells deepest beneath the earth, all had been exposed in their true forms.
The torture instruments stained with residual blood and human fragments, the severed limbs and corpses—they formed a hell on earth.
Xue He had unlocked all the cell doors in advance. The less severely injured prisoners fled in all directions, leaving only those gravely wounded and near death behind.
Those prisoners who had endured countless tortures were the most direct proof of this earthly hell.
Starlight fell upon the Zhou Prison, creating a stark contrast between sacred beauty and purity and bloody filth and ugliness.
A deathly silence.
Xiao De and the military experts had killed countless people, and the assassins of the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion were utterly venomous, but even they had never seen such horrors. Even the officials of the Punishment Bureau felt nauseated looking at the bloodstained cells and bizarre torture instruments, even though they had seen them many times before and personally administered torture countless times.
Perhaps it was because these bloody, ugly scenes had never before been exposed to the light of day.
No trace of Zhou Tong was found.
Many chaotic sounds came from outside the courtyard, yet there was also a strange sense of stillness.
Chen Changsheng was drenched in blood, whether his own or someone else's, he didn't know.
He walked toward the courtyard exit. All the swords had been sheathed, but no one stopped him.
The streets were packed with people, a dark mass, but a large open space had been left in the middle.
Zhou Tong lay on the snow, barely alive, his body covered in wounds too numerous to count. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he had suffered a thousand cuts.
Chen Changsheng walked up to him.
Zhou Tong raised his head with great difficulty, looked at him, and somehow recognized who he was. A final flicker of hope arose in his heart.
In his view, Chen Changsheng must hate him deeply; otherwise, he wouldn't be so fixated on killing him.
He wasn't afraid of Chen Changsheng's hatred—only that it wasn't strong enough.
He firmly believed he understood human nature: the deeper the hatred, the more reluctant one was to let an enemy die.
Come on, cut me a few more times, torture me, humiliate me, castrate me, feed me lard, fatten me into the ugliest pig, then squeeze out my oil to light a lamp!
Anything is fine, as long as you don't kill me on the spot.
Please.
Whether he heard Zhou Tong's inner thoughts or not, Chen Changsheng drew his sword.
There was no humiliation or torture, no cold revenge—just a clear flash of sword light, a clean killing intent.
With a tearing sound, a thin line of blood appeared on Zhou Tong's neck, then rapidly spread and widened, finally severing his head from his body.
Zhou Tong died, his eyes wide open, filled with confusion.
Probably wondering why it was so simple.
Chen Changsheng didn't spare another glance at Zhou Tong's corpse. He walked over to Mo Yu and said, "You came."
Mo Yu said, "Yes, I came."
Feeling exhausted, she sat down directly on the snow.
Chen Changsheng also felt tired and sat down on the snow beside her.
The shadows at the street corner rippled slightly, and Zhe Xiu revealed himself. He was also exhausted, but he didn't sit in the snow, knowing there would still be fighting ahead.
The ground trembled, the snow loosened, and hoofbeats sounded like wind and rain.
Several hundred black-armored Imperial Guards on horseback arrived at the scene.
Xiao De and the court's experts took positions around them.
A dozen or so green-robed Daoists had also appeared there at some point, their cultivation levels unfathomably deep.
Suddenly, more hoofbeats rang out. A young eunuch arrived on horseback, holding a bright yellow imperial decree.
The decree naturally came from the palace.
The young eunuch publicly announced Zhou Tong's crimes—twenty-two in total.
The twenty-two charges were tallied afterward; at the time, no one could remember the specifics clearly.
Everyone was in shock, whether the Punishment Bureau officials or the Imperial Guard soldiers.
Chen Changsheng couldn't recall the scene clearly either.
He only remembered that the young eunuch's voice was somewhat shrill, somewhat ethereal, now near, now far—in any case, it didn't seem real.
He also vaguely remembered that the decree seemed to mention death by a thousand cuts at the end.
But by then, Zhou Tong had already become a bloody, headless corpse on the snow.
There was no way to thank the emperor for his grace.
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(One: I wish everyone a Happy New Year, good health for the whole family, and all the best. Two: Writing this chapter was very satisfying. Three: I haven't asked for monthly votes this year. There's only one hour left today, and I have nothing else to do, so I'm asking everyone for a monthly vote. Please help me cast it. Of course, next year I'll continue not asking for votes—just this one hour. Four: The chapter title today is pretty good. When I wrote it, I suddenly thought of "Sword in the Snow"...)
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