Chapter 31#
Take Down That Emperor (31)#
Seeing the blood covering the entire city, even Ni Xinyan felt shaken, fearful that his father had truly done something as cowardly as fleeing. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t believe his father would abandon the lives of the city’s people for his own sake.
Ni Xinyan was deeply dejected, even harboring a faint dread—afraid that his father might indeed be that kind of person, and if so, how would he face himself then?
On one side was the country, on the other his own father.
Ni Xinyan was lost, unsure what to do.
Shen Jue watched Ni Xinyan’s dazed expression and let out a silent sigh. “Don’t think too much about all this for now,” he said. Looking around, he saw that the city was no longer livable. With so many dead, if no one dealt with the corpses, a plague could break out. “I don’t know when the imperial court will send people, but these bodies must be buried first.”
Shen Jue walked over to the man before him. “Are there any other people left in this city?”
The man, seeing that Shen Jue was with Ni Xinyan, refused to even look at him. He got up and walked away.
Seeing this, Shen Jue had no choice but to return to Ni Xinyan’s side. Ni Xinyan kept his head down, and after a long while, he said, “I need to submit a memorial. The court has been delaying sending reinforcements—there must be something wrong.”
Ni Xinyan and Shen Jue went to the general’s residence in the city, which was the Prince of Yong’s dwelling. There were no bodies inside the general’s residence, but everything had been ransacked. Ni Xinyan went straight to the study, which was the most disordered room. Stepping over papers scattered across the floor, he walked directly to the bookshelf, pulled out a book from the middle, and then approached a landscape painting behind the desk. He lifted the painting, revealing a brick protruding from the wall behind it. Pulling out the brick, he found a brocade box inside.
When Ni Xinyan saw the brocade box, his expression shifted noticeably. After opening it and seeing the tiger tally inside, he frowned deeply. “No, this isn’t right.”
He took the tiger tally out of the box and looked at Shen Jue. “This is my father’s tiger tally. How could he have fled without taking this with him?”
Unless the Prince of Yong hadn’t fled at all, but had left this place against his will—perhaps without even having time to take the tally.
Clearly, Ni Xinyan and Shen Jue had the same thought. He tucked the tiger tally into his chest, restored the hidden mechanism, and headed out. But before they could leave the general’s residence, they were surrounded by a group of civilians wielding machetes. The people were ragged and gaunt, as if they hadn’t eaten in days, their eyes glinting with a wild hunger as they stared at Ni Xinyan and Shen Jue.
Among the crowd, Shen Jue spotted the man they had encountered earlier. The man pointed at Ni Xinyan and shouted, “That’s him! He’s the son of that traitor! Let’s hand them over to the people of Yong—then they’ll give us food!”
“That’s right! Hand them over to the Yong people! His father betrayed us, so why should we treat his son with kindness? Capture them! All of them!”
“Everyone, together! There are only two of them!”
In an instant, the crowd roared and surged forward. Though Ni Xinyan was skilled in martial arts, he was already injured, and facing ordinary civilians, he couldn’t bring himself to use excessive force. Before long, both of them were tied up and thrown onto a cart.
The civilians tied white cloths around their arms and pulled the cart out of the city, heading toward Yong territory.
After traveling for half a day, they stopped. The civilians waved the white cloths in their hands toward the distant city gate. After a moment, a group of soldiers emerged from the gate. Lying on the cart, Shen Jue could see nothing of what was happening, so he simply looked up at the sky. Beside him, Ni Xinyan was unnaturally quiet.
Soon, a man who appeared to be the commander of the soldiers walked up to the cart. He examined the two men on it. “Which one is the Prince of Yong’s heir?”
A civilian bent over, quickly answering, “This one,” pointing at Ni Xinyan.
The commander nodded, glanced briefly at Shen Jue, then fixed his gaze on Ni Xinyan. “So you’re Ni Xinyan? Where is your father?”
Ni Xinyan lifted his eyelids lazily and gave the commander a weary look. “I don’t know.”
The commander squinted, then waved his hand. “Take them inside.”
Seeing the soldiers about to leave, the civilians hurriedly spoke in flattering tones, “Honored officers, we haven’t eaten in days. Could you…”
“Yes, please, officers, have mercy and give us some food.”
The commander paused in his steps and looked at the gaunt citizens of Murong State. After a long moment, he let out a light snort. “Want food? Go ask your Prince of Yong for it! I’m already sparing your lives—now get lost!”
The civilians hadn’t expected the Yong people to refuse them food. They exchanged glances, and then someone fell to their knees. Soon, everyone followed, kowtowing incessantly. “Honored officers, you are great benefactors—please give us just one meal!” “We beg you, officers!”
At this, the Yong soldiers burst into loud laughter.
“You useless wretches! Hah! If you want food, it’s not impossible. Let’s hear a few dog barks, and then say, ‘The Prince of Yong is a son of a bitch.’”
Hearing this, Ni Xinyan’s eyes snapped toward the soldier who had spoken.
But the civilians did as they were told. They barked like dogs and shouted, “The Prince of Yong is a son of a bitch!”
Ni Xinyan’s face turned faintly green. A moment later, he closed his eyes.
Having entertained the soldiers with this humiliation, the civilians finally received a bag of grain. They knelt on the ground, overjoyed, singing praises to the Yong people. The Yong soldiers, chatting and laughing, pulled the cart into the city.
…
Not long after entering the city, Shen Jue and Ni Xinyan were separated. Shen Jue was thrown into the dungeon, while Ni Xinyan was taken away alone. Before leaving, he gave Shen Jue a deep look and silently mouthed a few words.
Shen Jue could read his lips.
He said—
“Don’t be afraid.”
Shen Jue spent seven days in the dungeon. The conditions weren’t too bad—though he couldn’t bathe, at least there was food. On the eighth day, the door to his cell finally opened. Two soldiers stood outside. “Come out!”
Shen Jue stood up, brushed the hay off his clothes, and followed the soldiers. Having been out of the sunlight for so long, his eyes stung as he emerged from the dungeon, almost bringing tears to his eyes.
He paused, and the soldier behind him shoved him impatiently. “Move it!”
Shen Jue let out a long breath, not bothering to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes, and followed the soldier ahead.
They led him to a room where there was hot water and clean clothes. Seeing the setup, Shen Jue glanced at the two soldiers, but they simply withdrew from the room and stood guard at the door.
After a moment of thought, Shen Jue undressed and got into the bath. As soon as he finished washing and put on clothes, the door opened again.
Two different soldiers entered, replaced the bathwater, and set out another set of clean clothes before leaving.
Shen Jue pressed his lips together and took another bath.
That afternoon, he bathed a total of five times before no one came in to change the water. Instead, the two soldiers from before told him to come out.
This time, they led him to yet another room but stopped outside the door, telling him to go in alone.
Shen Jue halted at the entrance, hesitating. “Is someone in there?”
The soldiers kept their faces cold. “Just go in. Why ask so many questions?”
Shen Jue frowned, but he had no choice but to comply. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The moment he entered, his eyes fell upon a thick, pure black carpet.
Seeing the black carpet, Shen Jue’s expression shifted. He looked up, and before him stood an entirely black screen. The overwhelming blackness created a suffocating atmosphere.
He slowed his steps and cautiously moved around the screen. Just as he reached it, the door behind him slammed shut. He instinctively turned his head—and as he did, his throat was suddenly seized.
Warm breath brushed against his ear. The person gripping his neck squeezed hard, yet their voice was gentle.
“You’ve changed so much. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Shen Jue’s expression changed abruptly. He recognized the voice.
It was Murong Xiu.
“Why aren’t you looking at me? Am I not good-looking?” The other let out a low laugh, then slowly extended his tongue and licked the rim of Shen Jue’s ear.
Shen Jue’s body stiffened involuntarily. He moved his neck and said with difficulty, “You’re… choking me… how can I turn… to look at you?”
The moment he finished speaking, Murong Xiu let go.
Shen Jue turned around. Although he had already known it was Murong Xiu, he was still taken aback when he saw him.
Murong Xiu was even more beautiful than in his previous life.
He wore a pure black silk robe, with dark hair and thick brows. His phoenix eyes seemed to shimmer with an eerie light, but what drew the most attention was his lips—a vivid red like blood. He smiled gently at Shen Jue, but despite his picturesque features, his brows and eyes were full of menace, and his smile carried a strange, seductive wickedness. He looked like a painted-skin ghost—wearing the most beautiful skin but committing the most heinous deeds.
Murong Xiu reached out and caressed Shen Jue’s face, his gaze lingering with affection. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Have you missed me?”
“Your Highness,” Shen Jue called softly. “Last time we parted, this servant forgot to bid you farewell. I hope Your Highness won’t hold it against me.”
Murong Xiu suddenly laughed. His red lips curved upward, and his long, pale fingers gently pinched Shen Jue’s earlobe. “Of course I hold it against you. That’s why I came in person. By the way, I have a gift to show you today. Come, look—isn’t it beautiful?”
With that, Murong Xiu released Shen Jue and turned to walk deeper inside.
Shen Jue watched Murong Xiu enter the inner chamber and, after a moment, followed him.
On the bed in the inner chamber lay a person. Murong Xiu walked to the bedside, gazing tenderly at the figure, as if admiring his finest work.
Before Shen Jue even drew close, he could already see the face of the person on the bed.
He stopped abruptly in his tracks.
Murong Xiu half-turned, exposing the person’s features more clearly. “Look, isn’t he beautiful?”
The person on the bed was Ni Xinyan. His face was covered in cuts, and blood continuously seeped from the wounds, staining the pillow. His eyes were tightly shut, as though he had long since lost consciousness.
Seeing Shen Jue’s gaze fixed on Ni Xinyan, Murong Xiu’s expression suddenly darkened. His face turned sinister. “Do you feel sorry for him?”
His words carried a clear threat, as if a single unsatisfactory answer from Shen Jue would mean his death.
Shen Jue looked at Murong Xiu and said calmly, “I don’t feel sorry for him.”
Murong Xiu stared intently at Shen Jue, suspicious. “Really?”
“Mm,” Shen Jue replied.
Murong Xiu suddenly broke into a smile, contemptuous as he glanced at Ni Xinyan on the bed. “What now? I’ve won. I told you he was the most heartless person in the world, but you didn’t believe me. So you lost. Now I can’t let him go.”
On the bed, Ni Xinyan slowly opened his eyes. He turned his head to look at Shen Jue, his gaze utterly empty, devoid of any emotion.