"Tell me what wrongs you've suffered."
Su Chen stepped onto the Beheading Platform and brushed aside Huzi's tangled hair. A sudden tremor ran through his hand; he was looking at two bloody, empty eye sockets.
Someone had enacted their own brutal justice.
His eyes had been gouged out before the execution.
It was, without a doubt, Huzi.
It had been three short years since they last parted in the Ninth Year of Xuanlong. Now, in the Eleventh, the once young and robust Huzi seemed to have weathered a lifetime of hardship, having aged more than a decade.
His hair had grayed prematurely, his face was a mask of hardship, and his body was covered in countless old scars. Even though he had lost his eyes, one could feel the pain emanating from the hollow sockets.
"What in the world... happened?"
Su Chen's voice trembled.
