The Yongchang Marquis stood there, dazed.
He stood at the wide-open city gate, right on the boundary between light and shadow.
The firelight cast an unflinchingly clear glow upon the corpses scattered before him, their warm blood still flowing. These were the men he had spent ten years cultivating with countless gold, silver, and elixirs—his final trump card.
But now...
All gone?
The Yongchang Marquis's body began to tremble uncontrollably. It wasn't from the cold, but from a soul-deep, unquenchable terror.
One move...
It hadn't even been a full move.
Just a raised finger, a wave of the hand.
That person had crushed all his hopes, all his reliance, like ants beneath a heel!
"Surround... surround him!"
Inside the gate, the Imperial Guard commander finally snapped out of his overwhelming shock. Staring at the Yongchang Marquis standing alone amidst the corpses, his voice quivered with excitement as he waved his hand sharply.
"Rustle—"
Countless armored Imperial Guards surged forward like a tidal wave. This time, countless spears and broadswords were aimed from every direction at the military commander they had once feared like a tiger.
This time, no one could protect him.
"AHHH—!!!"
The Yongchang Marquis whirled around. He didn't look at the guards encircling him; instead, he let out a hysterical, desperate, venom-laced roar toward the direction where the green-robed figure had vanished.
"Who are you! Who the hell are you?!"
"Why did you ruin my plans! WHY?!"
The only response was the night wind howling like a ghost's lament.
That figure had disappeared without a trace, leaving no clues behind, as if he were a grim reaper from hell who had come solely to harvest his hope.
"Take him!"
At the commander's order, several fierce soldiers rushed forward and slammed the dazed Yongchang Marquis onto the cold ground.
Heavy, cold shackles were once again locked around his wrists and ankles.
But this time, his eyes held not just ashen despair, but an unfathomable, bone-deep confusion.
...
The escort procession moved slowly through the silent streets.
The Yongchang Marquis, held by two burly Imperial Guards, walked with his head lowered, saying nothing.
His mind replayed the scene outside the city gate over and over again.
That figure in the green robe and bamboo hat, that casually raised finger, that drop of deep blue water that seemed to contain the weight of an entire world... and those shadow guards he had taken such pride in—they had been wiped out like paper dolls, defenseless in an instant.
What kind of power was that?
That was the power of a god!
Whose... man was he?
He frantically searched his mind for every possible enemy.
The Emperor? Impossible! The Great Xing imperial family had had all their cultivation heritage stripped away by the immortal masters of the Cloud Hidden Sect centuries ago. The current emperor was just a mortal with a lifespan of less than a century! If he had such power, why would he have tolerated me all these years!
Then who?
His political enemies at court? Even more impossible! They were nothing but a bunch of pedantic scholars who could only wave ink brushes!
Name after name flashed through his mind, only to be rejected one by one.
He couldn't find the answer.
He couldn't find a single enemy who matched that green-robed figure.
A terror more dreadful than death itself began to fester deep in his heart.
This fear of not knowing who the enemy was—this helplessness of not even knowing whom to hate—was more tormenting than any torture.
It was as if he had thrown everything he had into fighting the entire world, only to be crushed casually by an invisible giant hand descending from the sky.
He didn't even know who owned that hand.
The escort procession passed by a quiet alley.
Under a dim lantern at the alley's entrance stood a familiar figure.
It was Xu Qing.
He was also wearing a green robe, his frame thin, standing there silently, watching the prisoner in the cart.
His eyes were complex. There was no joy of revenge, no triumphant pride, only an indescribable calm, as if he had seen through all the vicissitudes of the world.
The Yongchang Marquis's steps suddenly halted.
He broke free from the guards' grip and, facing the alley, shouted in a hoarse voice the question that had been circling his mind.
"That person... who is he?"
Xu Qing looked at him, at this lifelong enemy who had made him endure five years, who had taken his closest friend from him, and who had ultimately propelled him to the pinnacle of power.
He paused for a moment.
Then, he gave the Yongchang Marquis an extremely slight shake of his head.
The answer no longer mattered.
The Yongchang Marquis was roughly dragged away by the guards. His body struggled, and his mouth kept murmuring, repeating the same question.
"Who... who is it..."
"Whose... blade is this..."
That question, until his death, he would never know the answer.
Because for Su Ming, he was just passing by, helping a friend sweep away some trash from the courtyard.
That was all.
...
At three quarters past the mao hour, inside the Great Xing imperial city, the Hall of Golden Chimes.
On the white marble imperial path, the hundred officials filed in formation. Even the upright officials and censors, who usually loved to hold forth loudly, kept their mouths tightly shut, their breaths barely audible.
The atmosphere inside and outside the entire hall was so grim it could freeze water.
The earth-shattering upheaval outside the East Straight Gate the previous night, though the City Defense Camp and Imperial Guard had tried desperately to suppress it, had long since spread to every mansion in the capital—the earth-shattering battle cries, the thunderous sound of the city gate being shattered, and the subsequent wolf-like manhunt by massive numbers of Imperial Guards.
Everyone knew that today, major action would take place in the Hall of Golden Chimes. This wasn't just a purge of corruption; it was a complete, life-or-death reshuffling of power between the imperial authority and the military, between the old nobility and the rising new forces.
A storm five years in the making was about to pull back its final curtain.
Inside the hall, the golden dragon-coiled pillars glimmered with a faint, dark luster under the eternal lamps.
The Emperor sat high on the dragon throne, his face hidden in the shadow of the imperial crown, revealing neither joy nor anger.
But his hand, resting on the throne's armrest, tapped absently on the golden dragon head, betraying the extreme clarity and decisiveness in the ruler's heart.
The officials took their positions and shouted, "Long live the Emperor!"
Before the ceremonial eunuch could even read the daily records according to protocol, a tall figure stepped decisively out from the civilian official ranks. It was the Left Vice Minister of Revenue, Xu Qing.
He held high a thick memorial wrapped in red brocade, his steps steady as he walked all the way to the center of the hall.
"Your subject, Vice Minister of Revenue Xu Qing, has a memorial to present!"
Xu Qing's voice was clear and cold, like a wind sweeping across a frozen plain, instantly cutting through the entire hall.
"Your subject impeaches the Yongchang Marquis, Chen Yuan, for treason against the state, embezzling military funds, privately cultivating death-men, and attempting a violent jailbreak by force last night, charging into the inner city! Such acts, according to the Great Xing Code, constitute the most heinous of unforgivable crimes, warranting the most severe punishment—the extermination of his entire clan!"
P.s. I just discovered the manga adaptation today. I only planned to take a quick look, but I ended up spending two or three hours on it...
