The imperial capital's prison was divided into eastern and western sections, each with two main passageways. The eastern one led to the main street of Nine Peaks, the route prisoners took when released or exiled, while the western one led to the Nine Nether Platform, where executions were typically carried out.
The Nine Nether Platform backed against the Ya Lang Mountain, overlooking the profound Chishui River. The most sacred Shengjin Palace of the Great Xia Dynasty was situated halfway up Ya Lang Mountain.
There was no prison cart, no formal court trial, interrogation, or identity verification. Only a pitch-black warhorse stood ready before the prison gates—tall, robust, and letting out a cheerful snort upon seeing Yan Xun. It was unmistakably Yan Xun's own steed. The young man raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he helped Chu Qiao onto the horse before mounting it himself. They proceeded directly onto Zhu Wu Street, following the procession. Gongs cleared the way, and the common people hurriedly stepped aside to the edges of the road, craning their necks to watch before trailing behind, heading toward the Nine Nether Platform.
At that moment, thick clouds gathered in the sky, dark and churning as if pressing down upon the world. A fierce wind swept across the ground, rushing from the distant, empty road to strike the two children head-on. Yan Xun opened the front of his heavy fur cloak, enveloping the small child within, leaving only her head exposed. Chu Qiao turned to look at the young man’s handsome features, her gaze clear and bright, her eyes like tranquil water. Yan Xun glanced down at her and offered a gentle smile. Beneath the cloak, their small hands clasped tightly together.
They did not know what fate awaited them ahead. The winds of this world were too fierce; they could only stumble forward, waiting for the moment the storm would break, stubbornly lifting their faces to meet it.
A sudden, thunderous boom echoed, and everyone on the street instinctively halted, looking up toward the towering Ya Lang Mountain on the eastern plains of Hongchuan. There, the Chengguang Ancestral Temple of Shengjin Palace emitted a heavy tolling of bells. The colossal Canglang Bell was struck again and again by a golden pillar, its reverberations fiercely echoing across the land of Hongchuan—thirty-six times, a full thirty-six tolls.
Yan Xun’s face abruptly paled. Chu Qiao distinctly felt the hand holding hers tremble violently. She raised her brows, looking at him in confusion, but the young man did not utter a word.
The emperor’s mandate, the dignity of the supreme ruler—when the emperor of the Great Xia Dynasty passed away, the bells would toll forty-five times. Yet, thirty-six tolls were reserved for the mourning of imperial relatives, completing the number of four nines.
A cold, mocking smile curled on the lips of the Crown Prince of the Yan Clan, whose veins flowed with the blood of the Great Xia imperial family and who, years ago, had once worshipped the same ancestors as the Zhao imperial clan. What was meant to come could not be avoided—let it all come.
They arrived at the Nine Nether Platform, where banners stood in dense arrays. To the north, the majestic and solemn Purple Gold Gate was visible in the distance, with its red walls and golden tiles, exuding an imposing aura. The Nine Nether Platform, forged entirely from dark indigo stone, stood solemnly on the level ground, its black surface reflecting the pure white snow, enhancing its solemnity. Yan Xun dismounted and was about to ascend the platform when a middle-aged man with a square face, dressed in court attire, stepped forward and said gravely, "Young Master Yan, please come this way."
"General Meng Tian?" Yan Xun raised a brow slightly, glancing in the direction the man indicated. "That shouldn’t be where I sit, should it?"
"Shengjin Palace has decreed that Young Master Yan is to sit there."Yan Xun gazed at the execution supervisor's seat beside the high platform. If the person to be executed today wasn't himself, which imperial relative or noble would it be?
"In that case, I'd be honored to comply."
The young man turned coldly and, under the astonished gazes of everyone, ascended the execution platform and took his seat in the supervisor's chair. Surrounded by inner court officials from the Elder Council, the youth had sword-like eyebrows, jade-like features, and an icy composure that showed no trace of nervousness or unease.
Time passed slowly, yet no prisoners were escorted from Zhuwu Street. Suddenly, with a loud rumble, the side gate of the Purple Gold Gate swung open. Powerful figures from the Elder Council, military generals from the outer court, and civil officials from the inner hall filed out in succession. Even Zhuge Huai, Wei Shuyou, and others followed behind the crowd, taking their seats in the observation area with their respective family heads.
Wei Shuyou's face was slightly pale, his wrists concealed within his wide sleeves, showing no visible injuries. His sharp eyes swept over Chu Qiao standing behind Yan Xun. Noticing this, Yan Xun turned to look, and their gazes clashed like lightning mid-air. With a cold smile, they both straightened up as if nothing had happened, their expressions calm.
Above the thick clouds, the sun reached its zenith, approaching noon.
The elderly Minister of Justice, Huang Qizheng, responsible for overseeing the execution, hunched over as he stepped forward. Pointing at the sundial at the center of the Nine Nether platform used to track time, he respectfully requested, "Young Master Yan, the time has come. It is time to carry out the execution."
Yan Xun smiled faintly. Ready to confront whatever came his way, he waved his sleeve. "Minister Huang, proceed."
Huang Qizheng trembled as he stepped forward, his aged Adam's apple bobbing. His voice carried far: "The time has come! Bring forth the prisoners! Carry out the execution!"
"Carry out the execution!"
A thunderous roar erupted instantly. On the Golden Wings Plaza below the Nine Nether platform, three thousand soldiers lined up in formation shouted in unison, their momentum awe-inspiring. Birds took flight as a rumbling sound persisted. The heavy Purple Gold Gate swung open, and twenty soldiers from the Western Expedition, clad in full armor and expressionless, slowly advanced. They carried trays covered with white silk, step by step ascending the pitch-black Nine Nether platform.
Wei Shuyou suddenly snorted coldly, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he cast a cold glance toward the execution platform. Yan Xun's brows instantly furrowed tightly, a sense of foreboding surging in his heart. His hand gripping the armrest of his seat tightened, veins bulging prominently.
The twenty imperial soldiers from the appointment hall stood coldly on the Nine Nether platform. The empire's top marshal, General Meng Tian, ascended the platform and said gravely to the leading soldier, "Have the prisoners been identified?"
The soldier remained expressionless, his eyes fixed straight ahead. He responded firmly, "Reporting to the Marshal, they have not!"
Meng Tian frowned. "Why not?"
"Reporting to the Marshal, no one could identify them. Shengjin Palace has decreed that the execution supervisor today is to handle this matter."
Meng Tian nodded and turned to look at Yan Xun seated in the main position. In a resonant voice, he declared, "Young Master Yan, we must trouble you with this."
Yan Xun pressed his lips together, his brow almost knitted into a knot. Overwhelming unease and fear surged within him, making it impossible to maintain his usual composure. Even responding seemed difficult. Chu Qiao, standing behind him, seemed to sense something and reached out her delicate, pale hand to tightly grasp the young man's arm.
"Open the boxes! Identify the prisoners!"Twenty imperial guards stepped forward in unison, lifting the white silk from the trays to reveal twenty exquisitely crafted golden treasure boxes. Golden keys were inserted into the locks, producing a series of sharp clicks. Then, after a synchronized pause, they simultaneously opened all the lids, exposing the contents beneath the vast sky!
Yan Xun’s eyes abruptly widened, veins bulging on his forehead as a low, beast-like roar escaped his throat. He immediately rose from his seat, poised to charge the high platform.
Imperial soldiers on both sides swiftly rushed forward, the sound of blades leaving their sheaths ringing sharply through the air. Gleaming edges flashed as they moved with lightning speed, unstoppable. Almost simultaneously, a nimble figure instantly positioned himself in front of everyone. With a crisp clang, the child disarmed one of the soldiers, his brow furrowed as he shielded Yan Xun, preventing anyone from approaching him.
A fierce gale suddenly swept through, casting the world in a murky yellow haze. Dark clouds churned and piled up in the sky, while pitch-black crows soared and screeched, flapping their wings defiantly in the violent wind. A bitingly cold snowstorm swept in, forcing everyone to instinctively shield their eyes and cover their faces with their sleeves against the relentless gale.
Yet only a handful of people kept their eyes wide open, staring unwaveringly at the blood-soaked platform. In the Netherworld, the God of War above laughed maniacally, his voice piercing through the agitated hearts of the people and sweeping aside all worldly justice.
Meng Tian, clad in heavy armor, spoke gravely, "Situ Yundeng, announce the names!"
"Yes!" A young general with purple-gold embroidered birds on his shoulders stepped forward. Pointing at the first golden box, which contained a bloodied, disfigured head, he declared in a resolute tone, "Hereditary Prince of Yanbei! Twenty-fourth generation descendant of Emperor Peiluo! Grand Marshal of the Northwest Imperial Army! Five hundred and seventy-sixth ancestral tablet in the Shengjin Palace's Chengguang Ancestral Hall! Yanshicheng, Prince of Western Yanbei, executed on the sixteenth of April at the Yanbei Huolei Plains!"
He then moved to the second box and continued coldly, "Hereditary Sub-Prince of Yanbei! Twenty-fifth generation descendant of Emperor Peiluo! Pacification Commissioner of the Northwest Imperial Army! Five hundred and seventy-seventh ancestral tablet in the Shengjin Palace's Chengguang Ancestral Hall! Yan Ting, eldest son of Yanshicheng, Prince of Western Yanbei, executed on the fourteenth of April at the Yanbei Xunlie Plains!"
"Hereditary Sub-Prince of Yanbei! Twenty-fifth generation descendant of Emperor Peiluo! Deputy Pacification Commissioner of the Northwest Imperial Army! Five hundred and seventy-eighth ancestral tablet in the Shengjin Palace's Chengguang Ancestral Hall! Yan Xiao, third son of Yanshicheng, Prince of Western Yanbei, executed on the sixteenth of April at the Yanbei Huolei Plains!"
"Hereditary Princess of Yanbei! Twenty-fifth generation descendant of Emperor Peiluo! Five hundred and seventy-ninth ancestral tablet in the Shengjin Palace's Chengguang Ancestral Hall! Yan Hongxiao, eldest daughter of Yanshicheng, Prince of Western Yanbei, driven to despair, took her own life on the sixteenth of April at the Weishui Hong Lake!"
"Hereditary Sub-Prince of Yanbei! Twenty-fourth generation descendant of Emperor Peiluo! Deputy Grand Marshal of the Northwest Imperial Army! Five hundred and eightieth ancestral tablet in the Shengjin Palace's Chengguang Ancestral Hall! Yan Shifeng, cousin of Yanshicheng, Prince of Western Yanbei, executed on the ninth of April at the Yanbei Shangshen Plateau!"
"Hereditary Sub-Prince of Yanbei…"
…
The lengthy roll call finally concluded as the raging wind swept unchecked through the Nine Nether. Standing atop the high stone platform, Meng Tian looked down at Yan Xun in the chief execution observer’s seat and said solemnly, "The roll call is complete. Young Master Yan, please verify the condemned!"With a deafening roar, a fierce gale suddenly swept through, snapping an ancient towering tree beside the Nine Nether platform. The massive branch hurtled through the air with a howl before crashing violently into the very center of the Golden Wings Plaza. As the wind shrieked across the sky, all the strange and unfathomable gazes instantly converged upon the youth standing on the execution platform!
Even if all the iron across the nine provinces were gathered, it could not forge such a profound hatred!
Yan Xun slowly closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, they were stained crimson with bloodlust!
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