Before Zhang Xun's voice had even faded, the chains binding Zhōu Èrshùn—now a convicted smuggler—hit the floor with a clatter. Staring at the imperial pardon in Zhang Xun's hands, the man's cloudy eyes suddenly welled up with tears. His fingers, missing three joints, touched and re-touched the document:
"Sir... is what you're saying true?"
The old scars where his fingers had been severed turned red in the candlelight—the brand of the "penalty of severed fingers" personally ordered by Liú Hàng years ago.
Chapter 342