In the imperial palace, Yun Ye’s information was completely cut off. Those serving him were all eunuchs. Each day he lived an extremely regimented life: rising at five in the morning, practicing spear techniques for an hour, then doing a set of calisthenics, laughing heartily toward the sky twice, and thus completing the day’s exercise regimen before preparing to eat.

After experiencing Marquis Yun’s peerless spear technique on the first day, Chengqian clutched his left hand that had been inadvertently injured by the spear’s wind force and never came again.

According to the palace attendants, the Crown Prince had departed Marquis Yun’s residence roaring with laughter the entire way, even accidentally knocking over several palace maids carrying food. Though drenched in rice soup, he wasn’t angry and even kindly told the maids to be careful.

Yun Ye knew he was laughing at his spear technique, especially the Five-Step Soul-Severing Spear that terrified both soul and spirit. This spear technique not only frightened enemies—even Yun Ye himself was afraid of it, because he truly couldn’t control the direction of the spear shaft.

Now he had given up the idea of leaving the palace. At least until those old fellows died off, he had no plans to go out.

After breakfast, Yun Ye as usual went to stretch his legs for a bit.

He needed no attendants to accompany him. He was already familiar with the Eastern Palace, and since Chengqian wasn’t yet married, there were no forbidden areas for him in the Eastern Palace.

Under Yun Ye’s persuasion, Empress Zhangsun had abandoned the idea of finding a consort for Chengqian. What use did a thirteen-year-old boy have for a wife? In the future world, he would just be a little brat who had just started middle school. Puppy love was strictly forbidden—if caught, parents would be called in, you’d have to make a self-criticism in front of the whole class, face the contempt of all your classmates, and then some shameless person would take advantage of the opportunity to console the girl and worm his way in.

This was Yun Ye’s painful lesson—being grabbed by the collar by a girl’s sturdy older brother and interrogated, then having all his allowance seized as compensation for his sister.

There wasn’t anyone in the Great Tang who dared grab Chengqian by the collar—unless he flirted with Yun Ye’s sister, only then might he possibly face interrogation.

Yun Ye had always taken pride in his leaping thought process. Seeing a semicircular black object reminded him of that heavy iron gate at the construction site in his previous life that required great effort to pull up.

So he habitually gave it a pull. It wasn’t very heavy, and then he saw a face crying like a tabby cat, along with two white rabbit teeth.

“Ling Dang? What are you doing here?”

That question was ill-timed. Ling Dang, who was already crying, cried even harder when she saw him. He couldn’t bear to see girls cry, yet didn’t know how to console them—having lived two lifetimes, he still hadn’t learned this heaven-defying skill.

“Who bullied you? Tell me, and we’ll go break his legs right now.” This was Yun Ye’s magic weapon, never failing when dealing with his own sister.

The sobbing Ling Dang pointed at the flower bed: “There’s a little dog trapped in the flowers and can’t get out. When I try to pull it out, it cries, and it’s bleeding.”

Running around to look, he saw a filthy little dog wedged in the peony bushes, whimpering pitifully. This couldn’t stand! Yun Ye considered himself a member of animal protection organizations—how could he not help when encountering such danger?

Just as he was about to act, two eunuchs ran over. Seeing the little dog, they said loudly: “Your Lordship, this is the dog that burrowed into the imperial palace through a dog hole. This slave will kill it immediately.”

Before the words had even finished, one received a kick to the rear: “Can’t even speak clearly—what do you mean ‘Your Lordship is this dog’? I’ll beat you to death!”

The saying “do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire” didn’t apply to Yun Ye. Having had his own rear kicked around by the Emperor and old marshals, he had developed the bad habit of kicking others’ rears. Cheng Chumo shared this hobby. The two brothers had once kicked their way through all the soldiers’ rears in Longyou, fully enjoying the pleasure of high status. They were once called the “Rear-Kicking Duo,” invincible throughout Longyou.

“Your Lordship, please forgive us!” The two eunuchs, knowing this person’s status in the imperial palace, hastily begged for mercy.

“There are dog holes in the imperial palace?” Yun Ye found this incredible.

“In response to Your Lordship, when the Taiye Pool was drained, it swam in through the water gate. We slaves didn’t notice in time and let it run here. We don’t know where this stray dog came from.”

“Don’t kill it, don’t kill it!” Ling Dang shook Yun Ye’s arm, pleading for the little dog.

“You carefully pull it out.” Since he had helpers, naturally there was no need to do it himself.

The two eunuchs lay on the ground—one parted the flower branches while the other carefully lifted the little dog out.

Ling Dang quickly took the little dog, looking at it with pity, using her handkerchief to bind its injured hind leg. Animals all have very keen senses—knowing Ling Dang meant it no harm, it burrowed its head into her bosom, trembling.

He gave each eunuch a silver leaf to send them away. Turning back, Ling Dang was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged his shoulders, preparing to leave, when the flowers suddenly parted, revealing Ling Dang’s smiling face: “You truly are a good person.” With that said, she disappeared.

Yun Ye touched his nose. This was the first time he’d received a “good person card” in the Great Tang.

As Yun Ye whistled a tune celebrating his receipt of a good person card, he didn’t know that at this moment, at the crossroads of Duliu Street beside the West Market, prisoners awaiting execution were kneeling in a dense mass. Dai Zhou, Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review, supervised the executions. Waiting until the third quarter of the hour of the horse when the shadows on the sundial overlapped, with common people crowding all around, his hand swept downward.

The executioners simultaneously raised their butcher blades. Apprentices pulled tight the prisoners’ hair to expose their necks, faces pressed against wooden blocks. With just one stroke, cold light flashed, and ten human heads were rolling in pools of blood on the ground. Among the crowd, some cheered for the executioners, some bent over vomiting, and heart-rending wails could be heard from time to time.

Dai Zhou’s face was expressionless. The executioners’ blood boiled hot—to have a grand scene of executing one hundred sixty-four people in one session, as executioners, this life was complete.

Old Lu Jiang had disheveled hair and a haggard appearance. In just a few days, his originally grizzled hair had turned completely white. Pressed by the executioner’s grip on his collar against the wooden block, he seemed resigned to fate and spoke not a word. Only upon hearing a miserable cry for help did he open his eyes. His most beloved young grandson Lu Zhi struggled beneath the executioner’s palm, loudly calling for his once-omnipotent grandfather to save him.

Old Lu Jiang’s dried eyes were full of bloody tears. He forced his eyes wide open, watching as his grandson was beheaded by the executioner with one stroke. His aged body seemed to fill with power in an instant. Breaking free from the executioner, he threw himself onto Lu Zhi’s unclosed-eyed head, weeping with inarticulate cries. This was the Lu family’s most outstanding descendant—at sixteen already full of learning, extremely fond of the Book of Changes, having reached a level of mastery. Now with just one stroke, all had become emptiness.

Lu Jiang prostrated in the pool of blood, struggling to open his mouth, crying out loudly: “Heaven above!”

The sound had barely emerged, the echo not yet faded, when his aged head flew into the air. Fresh blood gushing from his neck cavity was like a bolt of bright red silk covering Lu Zhi’s young head. Rivers of blood.