The third day of the ninth month in the first year of Jinghe, the day of autumn executions.

Rain pattered softly against the moss-covered stone walls.

Before dawn, the Northern Patrol Division maintained strict security, with officers in dark robes standing silently before the main hall. Zhang Luo personally lit a lamp, suddenly illuminating the hall.

Deng Ying was brought out from the rear hall. He walked slowly, but his escorts didn’t hurry him.

His hands were bound behind his back, the ropes cutting into his shoulder blades.

Zhang Luo asked, “When was he bound?”

The officer responded, “Sir, according to regulations.”

“Untie him first.”

“No need.”

Deng Ying spoke evenly, “I’ll have to be bound anyway, what difference does a moment make?” He paused, then added, “I’d like some water.”

Zhang Luo said, “Give him water.”

A jailer brought forward a cup, and Deng Ying lowered his head to drink slowly.

Zhang Luo gestured for his escorts to withdraw to the bottom of the hall. “You may sit here for a while.”

Deng Ying raised his head and asked, “Who has been appointed as the execution supervisor?”

“Minister of Justice Qi Huaiyang. We have an understanding of all pre-execution matters. Whatever you wish, within my authority, I will try my best to help.”

Deng Ying shook his head with a slight smile, “I want to live.”

Zhang Luo froze slightly, and everyone present fell silent.

“Those are my true feelings, but I know it’s too late to say this now.”

Just as he finished speaking, someone announced from outside, “Sir, the Ministry of Justice has come to collect the prisoner.”

Zhang Luo responded coldly, “Understood.”

He stepped aside and raised his hands in farewell, “In that case, I bid you a good journey.”

At Chen hour (7-9 AM).

The rain gradually stopped, leaving the damp ground muddy from footprints.

Most shops near the Prefecture Office were closed. In front of the Pichangmiao Temple to the left of the office, officials were splashing water on the newly built execution platform. Large patches of filth washed down from the platform into the old drainage ditches below.

The Five Cities Military Police kept spectators ten meters away from the execution platform, but the crowd grew increasingly dense, pushing against the guards, with people occasionally falling. Qi Huaiyang stood behind the curtain and told the judicial officer beside him, “Go tell the Military Police Commander that civilians must not be harmed at this time.”

Soon after, the Military Police reported, “Minister, it’s not yet Chen hour, but over ten thousand civilians have gathered. We’re not being rough, but in this crowd, injuries are unavoidable.”

The judicial officer said, “Sir, it’s still early for the Si hour execution. Perhaps we should delay bringing out the prisoner?”

Qi Huaiyang replied, “That’s possible, but do you think it would help much?”

“Well…”

Just then, a Censorate Inspector hurried in, “Minister, please look outside.”

Qi Huaiyang lifted one side of the curtain, and the court officials gathered around.

In the crowd, Zhou Muyi and several Hanlin Academy officials in official robes were escorting the frail Bai Huan toward the execution platform. Already over eighty, he couldn’t walk alone, and even with Song Yunqing’s support, he had to rest every five steps. He had been Prime Minister under two emperors and a teacher to many Hanlin Academy officials. After retiring due to illness, he had been unable to walk. No one expected to see him here today. People called out his honorific: “Minister Bai has arrived, make way for Minister!”

Two judicial officers from the Ministry of Justice squeezed through the crowd and bowed, “Minister, the Minister of Justice invites you to come to the back.”

Bai Huan steadied himself against Song Yunqing and glanced behind them, “I’ve been away from court for many days. What right do I have to stand with your Minister?”

“Elder, you’re advanced in years, we…”

“What right have non-supervisors to stand on high platforms? I…”

He pointed at the platform, “I came today only to see my student…”

He finished speaking and leaned against the wooden railings in front of the execution platform, resting his weak body.

Qi Huaiyang let go of the curtain corner and turned to see all the officials hanging their heads in silence. He said, “Speak if you have something to say.”

At first, no one spoke, but finally, a low-ranking court official raised his head, “Minister, I cannot bear this.”

Just as he finished speaking, a gong sounded outside.

The prisoner cart carrying Deng Ying arrived at Pichangmiao Temple.

Deng Ying was helped down from the cart.

The intermittent drizzle had soaked his prison clothes, but being bound so tightly had numbed him to the point where he couldn’t feel the cold.

He raised his head to look at Pichangmiao Temple.

Built during the Founding Emperor’s time, Pichangmiao stood to the left of the Prefecture Office. It had once been a place for flaying, later converted to an execution ground. No matter how much it was cleaned, the blood-stained earth retained its stench. Yet the surrounding trees grew exceptionally well, almost hiding the high eaves of the Imperial City, leaving only a few glazed tile roofs, washed clean by the rain.

Deng Ying walked through the mud, his gaze never leaving the roof tiles.

Past times were like beautiful old dreams; even in the foulest muck, light could still reflect through.

After all these years, he had never seen himself as a builder of this Imperial City. Only now, facing death, after Yang Wan had finally extinguished his self-destructive heart, did he dare to look directly at the traces of his existence.

Red walls and golden tiles, carved beams, and painted rafters, like the magnificent rivers and mountains, are boundlessly beautiful.

Regardless of current court politics or historical rules, they viewed him, this condemned man, equally, paying their respects.

He wanted to live, though he knew it was too late, yet facing death, he didn’t feel particularly sad.

It seemed that after reconciling with his identity, he could finally face himself. Since his punishment until now, this was the first time he truly felt at peace with his conscience.

Thinking this, Deng Ying gently closed his eyes, allowing the guards to lead him through the misty trees behind the temple, toward Pichangmiao.

Behind the curtain at the foot of the execution platform, Deng Ying was brought in.

With each lift and fall of the curtain, the smell of rain and earth surged in.

Qi Huaiyang gestured for all officials to be silent and asked the escort, “Where is the body inspection record?”

The escort presented the document, “This was written by the Northern Patrol Commander himself, verified in the imperial prison. Commander Zhang instructed me to tell the Minister that no further inspection is needed here.”

Qi Huaiyang looked at the document and replied, “Understood.”

Then he turned to Deng Ying, “As the execution supervisor, I cannot speak privately with you, but before I give you the instructions, there is something I want to say.”

“Please speak, Minister.”

“Though I never associated with you and don’t fully know your character, after reading Yang Wan’s text, I remain troubled. I feel great sympathy for you, sir.”

Deng Ying said, “Please be careful with your words, Minister.”

Qi Huaiyang replied, “Whether I need to be careful or not, you can go out and hear for yourself.”

He then called out formally: “Deng Ying.”

“Present.”

“According to law, while awaiting execution before the crowd, you must not speak, or your tongue will be cut out immediately.”

“I understand.”

A court official asked, “Why can’t he speak?”

Qi Huaiyang glanced at him and said, “Don’t ask.”

Then he told the escort, “Take him up.”

Though the execution platform was only ten steps high, Deng Ying walked very slowly.

The clamoring crowd fell silent when they saw him brought up. The escort made him kneel before the execution frame, then withdrew behind him. Deng Ying had his eyes closed but then heard an elderly voice calling his courtesy name from below the platform.

“Fu Ling.”

Deng Ying’s shoulders trembled, and he looked down at the platform’s base.

The one calling him was none other than Bai Huan.

Ill and weak, standing for too long had covered his forehead in sweat, and even leaning against the railing, his body swayed unsteadily.

Deng Ying opened his mouth silently, only managing to bow with difficulty to Bai Huan.

Bai Huan looked up at him and spoke weakly, “Fu Ling, your teacher has come to see you off. Don’t worry, while I live, your body will have a burial place, and your spirit a place to rest.”

Deng Ying straightened up, shaking his head through tears.

Bai Huan reached out a hand, making a gesture as if stroking his head.

“Fu Ling, you need not speak, need not say anything.”

“Yes, Commander, you need not speak.”

Song Yunqing knelt at the foot of the execution platform as she spoke, and Chen Hua knelt with her.

Song Yunqing looked up at him and raised her voice, “Yang Wan isn’t here, so I’ll speak for her. At the end of the fourteenth year of Zhenning, my brother was brutally killed by He Yixian. I was implicated and nearly lost my life, but thanks to the Commander and Yang Wan’s rescue, I survived. My brother’s body was recovered by the Commander and now rests in Zhongguan. When I burn incense, I always remember the Commander’s kindness. Commander, Song Yunqing was once a palace official who studied vainly for ten years, thinking only of self-preservation, but I speak directly today because I believe in you and Yang Wan. Yang Wan said that in this world, injustice can be buried and truth can be revealed, justice still exists, and we will surely have our day to speak.”

“Yes!”

Zhou Muyi called out loudly from the crowd, “I too studied vainly for ten years, not recognizing your good heart. Of the thousand mu of fields at Chushan Lake, you took not a penny, instead spending your entire salary to support our southern academy. We were reckless, not showing you proper respect. Xian was about to lose his life before the autumn examination, but thanks to you and Miss Yang Wan’s rescue, we are here today. Commander Deng, we don’t know when we can repay this life-saving debt. That day on the road when you lifted your chains and asked if I wanted to be like you – today I, Zhou Muyi, answer you: no matter how the world changes, we all wish to be like you, serving in office with an upright heart, unafraid of filth, keeping our principles while moving through the dusty world.”

After speaking, he raised his hands in respect, bowing three times.

Then he knelt and called out loudly, “Zhou Muyi, Hanlin Academy Scholar and student of Chushan Academy, kneels to bid farewell to the Commander!”

After these words, Song Yunqing also prostrated herself and called out, “Commander, Yunqing kneels to bid you farewell!”

Chen Hua joined in, “Supervisor, I too kneel to bid you farewell!”

Deng Ying wept silently, shaking his head repeatedly.

The guard, fearing he might move, stepped forward to hold him down.

Bai Huan shouted breathlessly, “He won’t resist at all, don’t humiliate him! Don’t humiliate him!”

At this cry, supporting voices rose from the crowd.

The Inspector, watching the scene below the execution platform, couldn’t help but approach Qi Huaiyang, “Minister Qi, given the current situation, I must report to His Majesty.”

Qi Huaiyang raised his hand to stop him, “Wait another moment, I’ll write a memorial for you to take to the palace personally.”