“What else could it be? This is precisely the perfect time to showcase his achievements, and Li Qitian wouldn’t miss such an opportunity.” Bingtang curled her lips in disdain.
Qin Yining sighed with some emotion: “I’m afraid after today, all those people will be executed.”
“Does the Princess actually sympathize with them?” Seeing Qin Yining’s slightly furrowed brow, Ji Yun couldn’t help but ask.
Qin Yining looked up in surprise, then couldn’t help but laugh with a “pff” sound: “What kind of compassionate person do you take me for? None of those people are innocent—falling to this fate today can hardly be called unjust.”
Though she felt regret and melancholy about the loss of life, that stemmed from Qin Yining’s inherent respect for life itself, not from misplaced kindness.
At the grand court assembly, the open space in front of Fentian Hall displayed an impressive row of cages. The people inside each had ashen faces, their mouths gagged, able only to despair like livestock while the ministers inside the hall gathered around to gawk.
Today the ministers didn’t need to observe the usual protocols. One by one they pointed and gestured at the cages, and some hot-tempered military officers even pointed at Si Qin and cursed him roundly, greeting his ancestors—especially his female ancestors—with crude language that made the civilian officials frequently turn their heads in dismay.
Li Qitian sat upright on the dragon throne, looking down at the people in the cages. A surge of pride welled up in his heart. He carefully studied their expressions, and seeing that even Si Qin showed signs of nervousness and trembling filled him with unprecedented satisfaction.
“For many years, the Tatars have never ceased harassing the borders of Great Zhou. Last time they were defeated badly by Duke Dingguo and promised annual tribute, yet now they’ve gone back on their word. Khan Wutejin was rumored to be a true man of his word. Who would have thought that in the end, Khan Wutejin would give me and all the people under heaven such a splendid farce to witness?”
Si Qin hung his head, his mouth stuffed with rags, his hands tightly bound. Even if he tried desperately to pull out the rags from his mouth, his fingers lacked the strength. He wanted to refute but couldn’t speak, feeling truly frustrated inside.
The suffering endured during the many days of transport back to the capital had left Si Qin with an urgent desire for release. Enough—truly enough. As a khan, he had been humiliated sufficiently. Since death was inevitable either way, why couldn’t he be granted early rebirth? It seemed Lu Heng was a clever man who had already foreseen each step before boarding the carriage. Since this life had become his burden, better to be done with it.
The other ministers, hearing Li Qitian’s words, began condemning Si Qin one after another. Words like “going back on one’s word,” “ungrateful,” “utterly conscienceless”—none were spared as they hammered into Si Qin’s ears sentence by sentence.
Days of torment and abuse from common people along the way had nearly driven him mad. Now these ministers buzzed around his ears like mosquitoes, exhausting their capacity for mockery. When in his life had Si Qin ever suffered such humiliation?
His gaze grew increasingly resolute—he was prepared to die.
Li Qitian allowed the ministers to shame and curse, and only when the voices gradually weakened did he wave his hand.
Seeing this, the officials immediately fell silent in unison.
“Whether it’s going back on one’s word or destroying surrender documents, even leading troops to attack Great Zhou—these are all within the duties of a Tatar khan. Though the victorious become kings, I have always been fair in my dealings. In this matter, Khan Wutejin faces only victory or defeat, not right or wrong.”
Li Qitian’s words prompted the ministers to reflect, and soon many nodded in agreement, deeply approving of and admiring Li Qitian’s perspective.
But Li Qitian’s tone suddenly shifted: “However, you were originally a prince consort, and the previous Khan A’na Ri treated you with marital affection and the grace of recognition, yet you killed your wife out of ambition to usurp the throne. Such ruthlessness and unscrupulous methods truly make even me feel chilled to the bone!”
Regarding the death of Khan A’na Ri, there were various theories, making it difficult to get an accurate answer. But Li Qitian spoke these words with complete confidence in making Si Qin lose his composure.
Indeed, Si Qin seemed to have been struck at his weak point. Though confined in the cage, he began struggling violently, bright red blood dripping from his wrists, sliding along his filthy sleeves before finally falling drop by drop to the ground. Despite such pain, Si Qin still didn’t give up struggling, his eyes bloodshot as if congested, staring deadly at Li Qitian.
“What? Are my words incorrect? Khan A’na Ri trusted you wholeheartedly, entrusting all matters great and small to you. But what did you do? You coveted the khan’s position, even severed marital bonds and killed her with your own hands, then framed others! You despicable wretch—even looking at you once pollutes my eyes!”
“Mmph! Mmph!” Si Qin struggled even more violently.
“Oh? You still have something to say?” Li Qitian raised his eyebrows as if seeing something amusing, waving his hand with a laugh: “Go remove the rags from his mouth. I’d like to hear what this Tatar khan has to say in his defense.”
“Yes.” A guard immediately stepped forward and yanked the rags from Si Qin’s mouth.
Si Qin’s mouth was parched and dry. Suddenly breathing air, his throat was so dry he coughed repeatedly for quite a while, tears nearly flowing, before calming down somewhat.
Li Qitian showed no impatience, waiting quite a while before hearing a hoarse voice speaking fluent Great Zhou dialect loudly: “You call this khan despicable—is a foolish ruler who murders loyal ministers and only thinks of imperial ambition while ignoring whether his people live or die not despicable?”
“You—!” Li Qitian flew into a rage, suddenly regretting giving Si Qin the chance to speak.
He had thought that Si Qin’s group was already at death’s door, never expecting he still had such backbone and courage!
Hearing Si Qin’s outrageous curses, all the ministers turned their heads in dismay.
Li Qitian wanted nothing more than to stuff Si Qin’s mouth, but having spoken the words himself, he couldn’t go back on them.
Seeing Li Qitian’s sudden change of expression, Si Qin burst into loud laughter: “What ‘Son of Heaven’? Nothing more than a mediocrity who steals others’ achievements! Back then, the divine calculator Tianji Zi once said that this imperial throne belonged to the Purple Star Emperor, but are you the Purple Star Emperor? Think again about what you’ve done all these years. What single practical thing have you done for your country’s people? I see you’re just like a nouveau riche土财主 who suddenly got wealthy, only caring about your own pleasure while completely ignoring the people’s suffering!
“If anyone says one word against you, you don’t want to hear it, but think carefully—where do you compare to the Purple Star Emperor?”
Everyone knew the legend of the Purple Star Emperor and had heard of Tianji Zi’s calculations, but none dared mention it in front of Li Qitian.
Today, being confronted directly by Khan Wutejin, everyone panicked. They didn’t know what Li Qitian might do to resolve this embarrassment. Would they who heard everything be silenced?
Li Qitian was furious, yet afraid that showing his savage expression would make him appear guilty. He took two deep breaths to appear somewhat calmer.
“Treacherous villain! Even at death’s door you’re still trying to sow discord between me and my ministers!”
“Forgive my frankness, but in your court, with whom do you truly have a ruler-minister relationship? Do you think they truly submit to you?” Si Qin looked around in all directions, shaking his head with a bitter smile: “What a waste of heaven’s gifts! If my Tatars had your Great Zhou’s vast territory and abundant resources, I’m confident the Tatars would be ten times, a hundred times stronger than you are now! You occupied the most advantageous preconditions yet made a complete mess of everything! Go ask your country’s people yourself—during disasters, who used silver to buy grain? Do they thank you, or do they thank those who provided disaster relief?”
“Silence! Silence!” Li Qitian finally exploded in fury, his trembling finger pointing at Si Qin as he declared loudly: “Someone come! Flay this man alive for me!”
“By imperial decree.” Seeing the other ministers remain silent, Xiong Jinshui had no choice but to step forward quickly and hurriedly summon the palace guards: “Hurry up! His Majesty’s decree—can’t you all hear?”
The guards seemed to suddenly snap back to awareness and rushed forward to open the cage and drag Si Qin out.
But Si Qin continued his fearless cursing: “An incompetent fool without virtue—he can be Great Zhou’s emperor? I think your Great Zhou is probably doomed! Even if you kill me, it’s useless—I’ll become a vengeful ghost and watch how you bring about your own destruction!”
“Outrageous!” Li Qitian’s eyes blazed with fury as he pointed at Si Qin and roared: “No need to take him away—do it right here! I want to watch you carry out the execution! No one is allowed to leave! I want to see who brings about their own destruction first today!”
“Execute!”
“Execute!”
Immediately people bound Si Qin with his arms spread wide. The punishment of death by a thousand cuts wasn’t something everyone could perform—each cut had to slice away a thin piece of flesh, making the victim experience agony worse than death without actually dying.
The Great Zhou ministers watched as people prepared the instruments of torture and sought out experienced executioners. Every one of them had a cold sweat on their backs, even their calves trembling.
If the Great Zhou ministers were in such a state, the people in the prison carts beside them had long been scared senseless, shaking like sieves.
Bian Ruohan opened her mouth wide, the rags preventing her from saying anything but “mmph, mmph.” She wanted to say something but couldn’t say anything; she wanted to live but knew she probably wouldn’t survive. If Si Qin was to suffer death by a thousand cuts, getting a whole corpse would probably be preferential treatment for her.
Bian Ruohan was like an ant on a hot pan, struggling desperately in her cage.
Not just Bian Ruohan—even the Tatar generals and Lu Heng’s subordinates, witnessing a live scene of lingchi torture, were all scared weak in the knees.
Si Qin knew he was doomed to die and would suffer the agony of being flayed alive, so he cared even less. When the executioner arrived and he was mounted on the wooden stake and firmly bound, looking up at Li Qitian, Si Qin still had the courage to curse loudly: “You son of a bitch foolish ruler! This khan is completely uneasy about leaving the realm in your hands. Your country’s people are also human—have they all silently become immortals? How much silver do you have on hand? Is it enough to feed all these people?
Li Qitian jumped with rage and strode forward, but thinking better of it, restrained his impulse and only said: “Whether it’s enough or not is for me to decide. Even if you worry about the country and people in your wild thoughts, you should understand that no matter what the future holds, you won’t be around to see it.”
Si Qin threw back his head and laughed loudly, his laughter so piercing it made Li Qitian’s eardrums ache. Si Qin’s fearless gaze made Li Qitian feel unprecedented pressure.
Fortunately, Xiong Jinshui and the guards were loyal and all stepped forward to shield Li Qitian.
When the first cut went down, Si Qin was already in too much pain to speak, his face seeming frozen like frost, yet his forehead continuously beaded with sweat.
Many ministers with smaller courage didn’t even dare look forward. The blood soaking the ground—who knew how much rainwater it would take to wash it clean!