Dark clouds pressed low against the horizon. It was noon, but a chill wind swept across the execution grounds outside the palace gates. The crowd shivered, looking up at the sky.
"The wind heralds the storm," Xue Liulan said, smiling slightly at Murong Jin.
She didn't answer, her eyes fixed on the two figures kneeling on the scaffold.
On the left was Deng Qinyao, dressed in white prison robes marked with the character for Prisoner in black ink. His hair was neatly combed, as if he were attending a court ceremony. He knelt upright, hands on his knees, sitting on his heels. The posture of a scholar. He refused to acknowledge his fall.
On his right knelt Ling Yan. She still wore the black night gear she had been captured in, her hairpin gone, her long hair cascading down her back like dark silk.
The executioner stood in the corner, his gaze cold as he inspected his blade.
"It should have been death by three thousand cuts," Xue Liulan said, walking up to Deng Qinyao. "I asked Father to show mercy, for the sake of my son's karma. So it is beheading."
Deng Qinyao looked at him with mockery. "Then I should thank the Fifth Prince for his kindness. Empress Murong's son is truly benevolent."
"You flatter me." Xue Liulan smiled faintly. He took a bowl of wine and offered it with both hands. "I offer this wine on behalf of my mother."
Deng Qinyao straightened. He raised his shackled hands, took the bowl, and drained it. Then he placed the empty bowl before him and resumed his posture.
"Thank you." He stared straight ahead. "I trust I am not the only one drinking this wine."
Xue Liulan gave a knowing nod and walked down from the scaffold, glancing at Hanlu, who was hidden in the crowd. Hanlu nodded back.
"Hahaha! Wonderful! Play with me, play with me!" A woman's voice rang out, her laughter like silver bells. But in this place, it sounded like a summons from hell.
Deng Qinyao's calm face rippled. He knew that voice. He had heard that laughter since the day she was born.
Xue Liulan watched his expression change, following his gaze to the woman running onto the execution grounds. Deng Qinyu still wore the finest silks of Jindu, adorned with precious jewels, but her bright eyes were now dim and vacant, filled with a terrifying innocence.
"That's your grandfather. Go say hello to Grandfather," Little Dingzi said, pointing at the scaffold.
Deng Qinyu tilted her head, confused. Then she giggled. "Liar! My grandfather isn't that old. And besides, he's at court."
"He isn't lying," Xue Liulan said, walking up to her. "That man is indeed your grandfather."
"No, no! Grandfather is at court! He's going to buy me toys when he comes back!" She shook her head vigorously.
Xue Liulan turned to look at Deng Qinyao. Tears were glistening in the old man's eyes. He understood. The tragedies had driven his granddaughter mad.
"Xue Liulan," he hissed through gritted teeth. "You are ruthless."
Even in death, he wouldn't let him go in peace. With Deng Yan dead, Deng Qinyao had thought that at least Qinyu would be safe with the Seventh Prince. But now, she was mad, trapped in her childhood.
Xue Liulan turned away, signaling Little Dingzi to lead her away.
"Don't worry. I will ensure she is cared for, for the rest of her life." A voice whispered in Deng Qinyao's ear.
Deng Qinyao turned. Xue Feiyan was crouching beside Ling Yan, his hand on her shoulder, supporting her head against his chest.
"Thank you for your kindness, Seventh Prince," Deng Qinyao sneered. "But if anyone in this world wished for the fall of my family, it was you."
Xue Feiyan didn't look at him. He gently stroked Ling Yan's hair. "You know I always keep my word."
Yes. Deng Qinyao knew. That was why he could suppress his emotions. Because of one sentence from Xue Feiyan, he could accept death calmly.
"You're still sick." Murong Jin walked over, looking at Xue Feiyan with concern.
He had fallen ill after leaving the court that day, unconscious for three days. A martial artist shouldn't succumb to a wind chill so easily, but he had.
Xue Feiyan glanced at her. He tried to stand to get the wine bowl nearby, but his legs were weak, his vision blurring. He sank back down. "Sister-in-law, could you bring me the wine?"
"It is time," an official next to Li Yan announced just as she handed him the bowl.
Xue Feiyan ignored him. He brought the wine to Ling Yan's lips, reaching out to brush the hair from her face.
"Since it is time, step down," Xue Liulan said, stepping forward to block his hand. With a slight pull, he hauled his brother to his feet. The wine spilled. Xue Feiyan swayed, dizzy.
"Let go." He tried to break free, but his limbs felt like lead. He stared at Ling Yan's bowed head, waiting for her to look at him, just once.
She didn't move.
"Do you hate me?" he murmured, trying to rush toward her.
"Have some dignity!" Xue Liulan shouted, dragging him back. He ordered the guards, "Watch him."
The soldiers, terrified of the Fifth Prince, used their spears to bar Xue Feiyan's path.
Xue Feiyan felt his internal energy locked away, sealed in his dantian. No matter how he struggled, he was powerless.
Murong Jin stood aside, looking one last time at Deng Qinyao. His white hair was mussed by the wind, but his face was calm. Had he seen through life and death? Or was he just holding it all in?
The executioner's blade fell. A head that had once been held so high rolled onto the ground, eyes wide open.
"No! No!" Xue Feiyan slumped against the spears, reaching for Ling Yan, who was now so far away. The Seventh Prince, renowned for his martial arts, was weaker than a child.
"She must die." Xue Liulan stood in front of him, blocking his view.
"Move!" Xue Feiyan pushed him weakly. Xue Liulan didn't budge.
"Xue Feiyan, your only choice is to go back to your residence and recover. Father has already decreed that you are stripped of your title and banished from Jindu forever."
"Move!" Rage burned in Xue Feiyan's eyes. This would be his last glimpse of her.
"Go back." Xue Liulan stood firm.
"Xue Liulan, move!" His voice dropped, filled with a murderous intent.
"You have ten days in Jindu. After ten days, I will personally escort you out."
As he spoke, the sound of a blade striking flesh echoed from the scaffold.
"Xue Liulan! I will kill Murong Jin!" Xue Feiyan screamed, trying to break free, but his strength failed him, and he collapsed.
"Feiyan!" Murong Jin started forward to help him.
Xue Liulan grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Are you crazy? Didn't you hear what he said?"
"But…" She bit her lip, looking at the man struggling on the ground.
Xue Liulan looked down at his brother, his brow twitching. Finally, he hardened his heart. "Take the Seventh Prince back to his residence. Until he leaves, no one is to enter or leave."
"Yes." The soldiers dragged Xue Feiyan away.
He stared helplessly at Ling Yan's severed head on the scaffold, her hair still veiling her face.
Ling Yan, you never liked your hair messy. Are you refusing to see me one last time? Do you hate me for failing to save you?
Tears fell into the dust. He didn't notice. He let them drag him away, his eyes fixed on the scaffold until he was shoved into a sedan chair and darkness took him.
Murong Jin stood beside Xue Liulan, watching the sedan chair disappear.
"Was that necessary?" she asked, shaking her head.
Xue Liulan smiled faintly. "We've lived too tired these past few years. We've become numb. Isn't a little turbulence good?"
First, make him believe he had three days to save her. Then, drug his food to strip him of his strength. Finally, bring him here on the day of execution to watch the woman he loved die before his eyes.
"If I were Xue Feiyan," she said, rolling her eyes, "I would kill you for this."