The sorrows and joys of this world are always different. While the Qi family here had emerged from suffering into sweetness with laughter and joy, the Court of Judicial Review’s prison remained as cold and terrifying as in years past.

The moonlight of Jiankang City seemed particularly desolate when it reached this place, silently shrouding the deepest part of this place of great evil, where the treasonous minister about to be executed was imprisoned—the man who had once wielded power over the court and enjoyed glory, Great Liang’s foremost military officer, Han Shouye.

He sat alone with eyes closed in the corner of the prison cell, disheveled and covered in wounds, his whole body reeking heavily of blood, silent and motionless, as if already dead.

The prison was extremely quiet. In such deep night when all was still, there was no longer the clamor of daytime. The disciples of his faction were no longer as spirited in their shouting as during the day—they were probably all tired and perhaps had fallen asleep from exhaustion by now.

At some unknown hour, gradually came the sound of unhurried footsteps through the darkness, particularly clear in the empty prison. Han Shouye suddenly opened his eyes and, by the faint moonlight, barely made out the person standing outside the prison cell.

It was his dear nephew, Han Feichi.

At that moment Han Shouye seemed to smile. His expression was particularly grim in the shadows, and his eyes looking at Han Feichi were also murky and dark. His voice was very hoarse as he said: “If it isn’t my dear nephew?”

There was a faint echo in the prison.

“How rare that you care so much about your uncle, coming to this filthy place in the dead of night,” he spoke very slowly, as if lacking strength, yet his voice contained icy mockery. “The judicial prison isn’t a place one can easily enter—you must have spent considerable effort?”

Unlike Han Shouye’s sarcasm, Han Feichi appeared calm and composed.

He stood with hands clasped behind his back, gazing at his blood relative through the stern prison door, saying flatly: “Uncle may not yet know that His Majesty recently promoted me to Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. This place now falls under my jurisdiction.”

Though his words were merely stating facts, they inevitably enraged Han Shouye. If at this moment he hadn’t been rendered powerless from severe injuries, given his temperament he would surely have flown into a rage and cursed violently. Unfortunately, he could only sarcastically say: “Did His Majesty promote you? Or was it that Qi Jingchen who promoted you? A mere position as Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review makes you completely satisfied and grateful? If you and your father hadn’t betrayed me back then, what you’d have gained today would be much more!”

He began coughing violently, looking utterly furious.

Watching him, Han Feichi discovered that at this moment his heart felt no sorrow, only faint contempt.

This uncle of his… even until the final moment before death, he remained so absurdly confused and deeply obsessed.

Han Feichi didn’t wish to say more to him, only stating: “Your nephew came today on father’s behalf. He asked me to see you off one last time and fulfill one final wish of yours.”

Upon hearing this, Han Shouye let out an even colder laugh.

Ridiculous! Though Han Shouye had failed, he was still a hero who had accomplished great deeds. Why would he need Han Shousong and his worthless son to see him off! They wanted to fulfill his wish? Hmph, he had only one wish—to regain command of mighty armies and rise again, kill Qi Jingchen and Xiao Ziheng’s son, ascend to the imperial throne and rule Jiangzuo. Beyond this, there was nothing else…

Before he could think further, he saw Han Feichi leading a child to stand before him.

That was… his Li’er.

His youngest son, his and Lady Yan’s only child, Li’er.

His child had grown much thinner. Originally sturdy like a little calf, now even his cheeks had sunken in. He was dirty all over, clearly having had no one to care for him for a long time. He looked terrified, no longer carefree and laughing as before, making Han Shouye’s heart twist with pain.

He immediately tried to stand up, but his legs had been broken. The pain was severe and he had little sensation, so he could only crawl on the ground, struggling toward the prison door while crawling and calling: “Li’er! Li’er! Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!”

Li’er had originally been trembling with fear beside Han Feichi, but upon hearing his father’s familiar call, he immediately perked up.

He looked around and finally recognized that the disheveled man crawling on the ground in the prison was his once mighty and tall father. He immediately began wailing loudly, responding: “Daddy! Daddy!”

Han Feichi looked down at this touching scene of father and son recognizing each other, yet his face showed no emotion. He felt his heart was like iron and stone, only silently opening the prison door for them. Li’er immediately ran in and threw himself into his father’s arms.

Li’er was crying, crying loudly while telling Han Shouye that his mother was already dead.

Han Feichi had originally forgotten, but Li’er’s words reminded him—indeed, Lady Yan was already dead. She had committed suicide in prison, smashing her head against the wall, blood splattering everywhere, right in front of Li’er.

The child had been very frightened at the time, seemingly struck mute for several days, only recently able to make sounds again.

At this moment Han Shouye held Li’er tightly. Upon suddenly hearing news of Lady Yan’s death, he was shocked and pained, yet he knew that he was now the child’s last support. He was a father who could bleed, but could not cry.

He closed his eyes, then extremely gently stroked Li’er’s head, comforting him: “Li’er, be good. Li’er isn’t afraid anymore. Daddy’s here, nothing to fear.”

He continued comforting him this way for a very long time. Li’er finally gradually stopped crying, but still gripped Han Shouye’s clothes tightly, fearing his father would disappear from his sight again.

He tugged at his father and asked: “Daddy… when can we go home?”

“Li’er wants to go home…”

Just this one sentence made Han Shouye’s tears uncontrollably fall from his eyes.

He felt extreme shame for crying in front of his child, so he quickly wiped them away and held the child tightly, while he himself wept silently where the child couldn’t see. Li’er didn’t know what was happening or why his father suddenly stopped talking to him, so he naturally became anxious and began crying again. At this moment Han Shouye reached out and lightly touched the back of the child’s neck. Li’er immediately lost consciousness and fell asleep in his embrace.

Han Feichi watched everything before him coldly, still expressionless.

He watched Han Shouye carefully lay Li’er on the ground, then watched him struggle bit by bit to crawl to the prison door and grasp his clothes. This man who had nearly turned Great Liang upside down was now looking up at him, his gaze revealing infinite pleading.

He said to him: “Zhongheng… even if uncle begs you, I only beg this one thing of you… spare Li’er… he’s innocent, he’s just a child…”

He dragged his ruined legs and knelt before Han Feichi—an elder, kneeling before his own nephew.

Yet Han Feichi didn’t know why he still felt nothing.

His heart was like stone—no matter how much blood or tears were poured on it, it would remain unmoved. He heard his own voice, cold and hard, answering matter-of-factly: “National law is merciless. If positions were reversed, would uncle spare the descendants of criminals?”

His words were so cold they provoked Han Shouye to bitter laughter, particularly eerie in the gloomy prison.

“Criminal?” he laughed and asked back, “I’m a criminal?”

He was laughing and crying at the same time.

“No, Zhongheng, I have no crimes.”

“I merely lost.”

Defeat is my only crime…

He laughed maniacally, his leg wounds having long since split open, emitting thick bloody odors mixed with the rusty smell of shackles, making Han Feichi somewhat nauseous.

He heard Han Shouye question him again: “Qi Jingchen wants to eliminate me root and branch, so why does he spare Xiao Ziheng’s spawn? Does he truly trust that Xiao Yizhao? That’s just a wolf cub! Someday he’ll take his life!”

His tone was venomous, making these words like a curse, yet actually he spoke from his heart—the young emperor ultimately carried the blood of both Xiao and Fu families. They were all so sinister and cruel—could Xiao Yizhao be an exception?

Absolutely impossible!

Han Shouye had expected Han Feichi to refute him, but unexpectedly… he laughed instead.

An even more sinister, faintly mad laugh.

He said: “Who says he can remain?”

He bent down to look at Han Shouye, the two staring directly into each other’s eyes.

“Second Brother is ultimately too merciful. He won’t have the heart to kill him until the very last moment,” he spoke word by word, clearly and decisively. “But what does that matter? I only need to give that Xiao surname a push, until he crosses Second Brother’s bottom line.”

A moment of clear malice and excitement flashed in his eyes.

“What will happen then?” he asked with a smile, then answered himself, “He’ll bring about his own destruction, and then Jiangzuo will welcome a new master.”

“…A master truly worthy of these beautiful mountains and rivers.”

Han Shouye could no longer speak.

Looking at the evil gleam in Han Feichi’s eyes at this moment, he suddenly felt he had never truly known this nephew—he was mad, yet not for his own sake.

…How utterly incomprehensible.

Han Shouye couldn’t understand. The only thing he understood was that Li’er could never escape from the hands of these demons.

He would follow him into hell together.

Han Shouye dejectedly released his grip on Han Feichi’s clothes, but at this moment Han Feichi suddenly threw a small medicine bottle onto the straw ground before Han Shouye.

Han Shouye was startled, looked up at Han Feichi, and asked: “…What is this?”

At this moment Han Feichi had already restrained his previous strange expression and returned to normal, answering: “Father asked me to bring this, saying it would let uncle depart with dignity.”

Han Shouye understood.

This was a bottle of poison.

Just by taking it he could immediately die in this prison, thus avoiding being paraded through streets or beheaded before ten thousand people.

Indeed… very dignified.

This act was actually quite bold. Han Shousong should have been risking Qi Ying’s displeasure to do this. Even if Qi Ying ultimately turned a blind eye to it, the Han family would have to pay many invisible costs—for instance, many favors Qi Ying owed them would be offset by this small matter.

Yet even so, Han Shousong had still done this, just to give his brother final dignity.

Han Shouye’s eyes moistened again.

With trembling hands he picked up that small medicine bottle, examined it closely for a long while, then after a moment asked Han Feichi: “This medicine… how many are there in total?”

Han Feichi answered expressionlessly: “Two pills.”

Considerate two pills—one for father, one for child.

Han Shouye understood, smiling while crying, and asked again: “Will it hurt very much?”

Han Feichi sighed and answered: “Extremely poisonous, death upon contact.”

Before there was even time to feel pain, life would be taken away.

Hearing such a response, Han Shouye finally felt at ease.

He turned to look at the sleeping Li’er. The cold moonlight stretched his shadow very long, appearing shadowy on the prison floor.

With his back to Han Feichi, he finally said: “…Thank your father for me. Tell him this elder brother goes first, and may the Han family… prosper for ten thousand generations.”

Han Feichi nodded, then turned and walked step by step toward the prison exit.

At this moment he heard Li’er’s voice from the cell behind him—he had probably awakened and was crying and fussing with his father.

His father comforted him, then said to him: “Does Li’er want some candy? Daddy has candy, very sweet candy.”

Li’er seemed very delighted, clapping and laughing, yet his father’s voice contained deep sorrow and anguish.

And… an barely perceptible trembling.

Han Feichi didn’t continue listening. Without hesitation or pause, he strode out of the Court of Judicial Review’s prison.

Outside the prison was clear and beautiful moonlight.

Author’s Note: Han Feichi… is essentially a madman.

The next chapter will be the final chapter~