The imperial prison of the capital was divided into eastern and western sections, each with two main roads. The eastern road led to the main street of Jiu Wai, the necessary route for released or exiled prisoners. The western road, however, led to the Nine Abyss Platform, mostly the site for executions.
The Nine Abyss Platform backed against Mount Yalang, overlooking the Xuanjiao Red Waters. The most sacred Sheng Jin Yonghe Palace of the Great Xia Dynasty was situated on the hillside of Mount Yalang.
There was no prison cart, no so-called court trial, interrogation, or identity verification. Only a jet-black warhorse was prepared at the prison gate—tall and strong. Seeing Yan Xun, it happily snorted, clearly Yan Xun’s mount. The youth raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint smile. He helped Chu Qiao onto the horse’s back, then mounted himself, heading straight to Zhu Wu Street, following the large procession. Along the way, gongs were struck to clear the path, and commoners rushed to make way, retreating to both sides, craning their necks to watch, and then following behind toward the Nine Abyss Platform.
At that time, thick clouds accumulated in the sky, black clouds rolling, as if pressing down on people’s heads. Wild winds rose from the ground, blowing against the two children’s faces from the distant, open road. Yan Xun opened the front of his great fur coat, wrapping the child’s small body within, leaving only her little head exposed. Chu Qiao turned back to look at the youth’s handsome features, her eyes clear, her pupils like water. Yan Xun lowered his head, giving her a gentle smile. The two small hands under the great fur coat clasped tightly together.
They did not know what fate awaited them ahead. The wind in this world was too strong; they could only stumble forward, waiting for the moment the storm would arrive, stubbornly raising their faces.
A thunderous sound suddenly rang out, and all those walking on the streets involuntarily stopped in their tracks, looking up toward Mount Yalang, towering over the eastern plain of Red River. There, the Cheng Guang Ancestral Temple of Sheng Jin Palace emitted heavy bell tolls. The great Canglang Bell was struck again and again by golden pillars, the sound reverberating intensely across the Red River land—thirty-six times, exactly thirty-six times.
Yan Xun’s face suddenly turned pale. Chu Qiao felt the hands holding her tremble violently. She raised her eyebrows, looking at Yan Xun in confusion, but the youth did not say a word.
Imperial Mandate of Heaven, Supreme Honor—when a Great Xia emperor passed away, the bell would toll forty-five times. But thirty-six bell tolls were the ritual for when royal relatives passed away, to complete the number of forty-nine.
The corners of the Yan family heir’s mouth, whose veins flowed with Great Xia royal blood and who had worshipped the same ancestor as the Zhao royal family many years ago, curved into a cold sneer. What must come cannot be avoided, so let it all come.
To the Nine Abyss Platform, flags stood in formation. Looking north, one could faintly see the majestic Purple Gold Gate, with red walls and golden tiles, imposing and magnificent. The Nine Abyss Platform, cast entirely from black-bluish stone, stood solemnly on level ground. The black surface reflected the pure white snow, appearing even more solemn. Yan Xun dismounted and was about to walk up to the platform when a square-faced middle-aged man wearing imperial court robes suddenly approached and said in a deep voice: “Prince Yan, please come this way.”
“General Meng Tian?” Yan Xun slightly raised his eyebrows, looking in the direction the middle-aged man pointed, and said: “That place, shouldn’t be where I sit, right?”
“By order of Sheng Jin Palace, Prince Yan is to sit there.”
Yan Xun looked at the execution overseer’s seat beside the high platform. If the person to be executed today was not himself, then which royal noble would it be?
“If so, I shall respectfully obey.”
The youth turned coldly, walking up to the execution platform under everyone’s astonished gaze and sitting down in the chief executioner’s seat. Around him were elder council officials from the inner court. The youth’s sword-like eyebrows were as if in flight, his face like fine jade, cold as ice and snow, showing not the slightest hint of nervousness or awkwardness.
Time passed slowly, yet no prisoner was brought from Zhu Wu Street. At this moment, a rumbling sound was heard as the side door of the Purple Gold Gate opened wide. Power holders from the various houses of the Elder Council, military generals from the outer court, warriors, and civil officials from the inner hall all filed out one after another. Even Zhuge Huai, Wei Shuyou, and others were behind the crowd, following the heads of various families to the execution viewing positions.
Wei Shuyou’s face was slightly pale, his wrists hidden in his wide sleeves, showing no sign of injury. His eyes swept over Chu Qiao behind Yan Xun like knives. Seeing this, Yan Xun turned to look. The youths’ gazes clashed like lightning in midair. They coldly smiled, then, as if nothing had happened, they straightened themselves, their expressions calm.
Above the heavy clouds, the sun reached its zenith, approaching noon.
The official in charge of the execution, Judicial Minister Huang Qizheng, walked forward with a stooped back, pointing to the sundial at the center of the Nine Abyss Platform used for time calculation, and respectfully asked: “Prince Yan, the time has come. Shall we proceed with the execution?”
Yan Xun smiled faintly—face whatever comes, adapt to all situations—with a sweep of his wide sleeve: “Please proceed, Minister Huang.”
Huang Qizheng tremblingly stepped forward, his aged Adam’s apple moving up and down, his voice carrying far: “The time has come. Bring forth the criminals and execute them!”
“Execute them!”
A tremendous sound immediately rang out. Three thousand soldiers lined up below the Nine Abyss Platform on the Golden Wing Square, shouting in unison, the sound incredibly imposing. Birds took flight, and rumbling sounds continued to arise. The heavy Purple Gold Gate was opened. Twenty soldiers in full military attire from the Western Expedition Army, with cold expressions, carried trays covered with white silk slowly forward, step by step ascending the pitch-black Nine Abyss Platform.
Wei Shuyou suddenly snorted coldly, the corners of his mouth twisting into a mocking smile, his cold eyes looking toward the execution platform. Yan Xun’s brows instantly furrowed tightly, an ominous premonition immediately seizing his heart. His hand gripping the armrest tightened, blue veins bulging.
Twenty imperial soldiers from the Command Hall stood coldly on the Nine Abyss Platform. The empire’s First Marshal, General Meng Tian, walked up to the platform and said to the leading soldier in a deep voice: “Have the criminals’ identities been verified?”
The soldier, expressionless, eyes fixed straight ahead, immediately answered firmly: “Reporting to the Marshal, they have not!”
Meng Tian frowned: “Why not?”
“Reporting to the Marshal, no one could identify them. Sheng Jin Palace has ordered that today’s execution overseer be responsible for this task.”
Meng Tian nodded, turning his head to look at Yan Xun sitting in the main seat, saying in a resonant voice: “Prince Yan, I must trouble you with this task.”
Yan Xun pressed his lips tightly together, his brows almost knitted. Immense uneasiness and fear irrepressibly seized his heart, making it difficult for him to maintain his usual casual calmness, even answering seemed somewhat laborious. Chu Qiao stood behind him, seemingly sensing something, extending her tender white hand to firmly grip the youth’s arm.
“Open the boxes, verify the criminals!”
The twenty imperial guards stepped forward in unison, uniformly lifting the white silk from the trays, revealing twenty exquisite boxes forged of gold. Golden keys were inserted into the keyholes, the sound of clicks unceasing. Then, everyone paused simultaneously, opening all the box lids together, exposing what was inside to the heavens!
Yan Xun’s eyes suddenly widened, blue veins bulging on his forehead. His throat emitted a beast-like growl as he immediately rose from his seat, about to pounce toward the high platform.
Imperial soldiers on both sides swiftly rushed forward, the sound of swords leaving scabbards resounding, bright blades flashing, their movements swift as lightning, irresistible. Almost at the same time, an agile figure immediately stepped in front of everyone. With a crisp “ding” sound, the child disarmed a soldier, her brows raised, protecting Yan Xun, not allowing anyone to approach him.
The great wind suddenly rose, the world turning a dusky yellow. Black clouds accumulated in the sky, layered clouds rolling. Black crows flew overhead, screeching, soaring high in the violent gale. Bone-chilling wind and snow came fiercely, and everyone involuntarily covered their eyes, using their sleeves to block the unrestrained wild wind.
But there were just a few people who kept their eyes open, gazing fixedly at that blood-thirsty high platform. Vaguely, it seemed that the God of War in the heavens was laughing wildly overhead, the sound penetrating people’s hearts, sweeping across all principles of justice in the world.
Meng Tian, in full armor, said in a deep voice: “Situ Yundeng, call out the names!”
“Yes!” The young commander with purple and gold embroidered flying birds on his shoulders stepped forward, pointing to the bloody, congealed mess of a head in the first golden box, and loudly proclaimed in a resonant tone: “Hereditary feudal king of Yan Bei! Twenty-fourth generation grandson of Emperor Pei Luo! Grand Marshal of the Imperial Northwest Army! Five hundred and seventy-sixth tablet holder of Cheng Guang Ancestral Temple in Sheng Jin Palace! Yan Shicheng, King of Yan Bei, beheaded at Fire Thunder Plains of Yan Bei on the sixteenth day of the fourth month!”
After speaking, he moved to the second box and continued in a cold voice: “Hereditary prince of Yan Bei! Twenty-fifth generation grandson of Emperor Pei Luo! Imperial Northwest Pacification Commissioner! Five hundred and seventy-seventh tablet holder of Cheng Guang Ancestral Temple in Sheng Jin Palace! Yan Ting, eldest son of Yan Shicheng, King of Yan Bei, beheaded at Xun Lie Wall of Yan Bei on the fourteenth day of the fourth month!”
“Hereditary prince of Yan Bei, twenty-fifth generation grandson of Emperor Pei Luo! Deputy Commissioner of Imperial Northwest Pacification! Five hundred and seventy-eighth tablet holder of Cheng Guang Ancestral Temple in Sheng Jin Palace! Yan Xiao, third son of Yan Shicheng, King of Yan Bei, beheaded at Fire Thunder Plains of Yan Bei on the sixteenth day of the fourth month!”
“Hereditary princess of Yan Bei, twenty-fifth generation granddaughter of Emperor Pei Luo! Five hundred and seventy-ninth tablet holder of Cheng Guang Ancestral Temple in Sheng Jin Palace! Yan Hong Xiao, eldest daughter of Yan Shicheng, King of Yan Bei, driven to a dead end, committed suicide at Wei Water Hong Lake on the sixteenth day of the fourth month!”
“Hereditary prince of Yan Bei, twenty-fourth generation grandson of Emperor Pei Luo! Deputy Marshal of the Imperial Northwest Army! Five hundred and eightieth tablet holder of Cheng Guang Ancestral Temple in Sheng Jin Palace! Yan Shifeng, cousin of Yan Shicheng, King of Yan Bei, beheaded at Shang Shen Plateau of Yan Bei on the ninth day of the fourth month!”
“Hereditary prince of Yan Bei…”
…
The long name-calling finally ended. The piercing wind swept unrestrained across the Nine Abyss. Meng Tian stood on the high stone platform, looking down at Yan Xun in the execution overseer’s seat, and said in a deep voice: “The name-calling is complete. I ask Prince Yan to verify the criminals!”
With a thunderous boom, the storm suddenly rose, breaking a towering ancient tree beside the Nine Abyss Platform. Huge branches flew howling, crashing into the center of the Golden Wing Square. The sound of wind howled throughout the sky, and all the strange, unpredictable gazes instantly converged on the youth on the execution platform!
Gather all the iron of the nine provinces, and still, it would be insufficient to forge this hatred!
Yan Xun slowly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were crimson red!