The bystanders, having only caught fragments of the conversation, began to whisper among themselves.
"The Duke of Wei has an older brother?"
"I’ve never heard of any other son in the Yu Family."
An old man spoke up quietly, "I heard that someone from the Yu Family has been sent away by the Emperor to cultivate immortality. Perhaps that’s him."
Once they heard the man was an "imperial proxy" for the Emperor, the commoners dared not gossip any further. But on horseback, Yu Changqing felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles. *Damn it,* he thought, *how did I not foresee this venomous woman coming to meddle? Everything I’d planned has gone completely off the rails.*
"My brother is at the bottom of the Tianjian Abyss," Yu Changqing said aloud. "He has sworn never to leave until he achieves immortality. Does the Empress intend to force him to break his vow?"
While the average person didn't grasp the significance of this, Yan Xiao'er’s pupils dilated in shock. Among the nobility, the term "Tianjian" was synonymous with "a place of certain death." The entrance to the Tianjian Abyss was the burial ground for the remains of Li Kingdom generals brought back from the battlefield. How could anyone be cultivating immortality there, especially someone from the Yu Family, a branch of the Lingshi Clan? Even if it were true, she had heard that the entrance was a one-way passage into the bowels of the earth; no one who went in ever came out.
There was only one logical explanation: the "cultivation for the Emperor" was a prestigious-sounding facade. In reality, he was a "death proxy," sacrificing his own life to extend the Emperor's lifespan. To bring such a person out would be to shorten the Emperor’s life—how could that ever be allowed? If Yan Xiao'er went there, it would be a death sentence.
But Empress Cheng replied, "Of course not, Duke of Wei. Why would you think that? I simply meant to send the girl from the Yan family there to assist and accompany him. It could be considered an act of atonement for her ancestors, a way to accrue merit. Very well, the matter is settled. Don't let it weigh on your mind, Magistrate Yu. Everyone, disperse."
The crowd obeyed and scattered. They did not understand the nature of the Tianjian Abyss, but they understood the word "atonement." Most assumed it meant the Yan family had escaped the death penalty but still had to face a living punishment. Seeing no bloodshed, they considered the case closed. Ordinary folk had their own livelihoods to worry about; they would forget the gossip in a few days.
Only Yu Changqing’s mind raced. Even though Empress Cheng’s words had dispelled most of his immediate doubts—accepting the idea that a death sentence had been commuted to a life sentence—why did it have to be the Tianjian Abyss? And why Yu Changmian, whom they had long since treated as a dead man? The Yu Family’s scheme had been carefully laid out step by step; Empress Cheng should not have known about it. If she did, his life would be forfeit ten thousand times over. The deviation in the plan was no small matter, and he could not be as carefree as the commoners.
Furthermore, as Yan Xiao'er was being led away from the platform, she cast a look at him that was filled with bone-deep hatred. She was seven years his junior and had always looked up to him as a beloved older brother, only learning to keep her distance once they were betrothed. From the moment she was informed upon to the confirmation of her execution, Yu Changqing had never once dared to see her. In his eyes, Yan Xiao'er was merely a pawn, a piece laid out by his father’s generation. His proximity and affection, whether true or false, had never been born of love, but they had left behind traces of human connection that could not be easily erased. Otherwise, the contrast between her childhood smiles and her current murderous intent would not have been so jarring.
Yu Changqing remained lost in his own calculations and memories, and by the time he regained his senses, he was standing alone in the middle of the empty execution ground.
***
The prison cart carrying Yan Xiao'er followed behind Empress Cheng’s procession as they slowly headed toward the eastern suburbs. Once they cleared the city gates, the loiterers and children who had been following them gradually fell away.
Yan Xiao'er, not knowing whether this was a blessing or a curse, looked at the setting sun. Her expression was now more solemn than it had been before the scheduled execution.
The mule pulling the cart came to a sudden halt; the procession ahead had stopped. A female guard tasked with delivering the imperial decree trotted over and ordered the soldiers to remove Yan Xiao'er’s shackles. Having witnessed Empress Cheng’s authority at the execution ground, the soldiers dared not defy her, yet they were terrified of the responsibility of releasing a prisoner on death row. They dithered, none willing to be the first to move.
"A bunch of cowards," the guard snapped. "Who is in charge?"
One soldier stammered, "Our... our superior has returned to the Ministry of Justice to report." In truth, they all knew that their superiors were simply avoiding getting caught in the crossfire between the Empress and the Ministry. It was safer to stay out of the way. If the executioner had followed along and something went wrong, the blame would surely fall on him.
"Give me the key."
The guard was exceptionally strong; she easily snapped the thirty-pound wooden yoke and tossed it into the cart. "Come with me to see the Empress."
Yan Xiao'er dug her fingernails into her palms. She didn't know how to face that woman. As she stepped into the Empress's carriage, the heavy scent of incense made her feel sick; there was no sense of relief at all.
Empress Cheng remained hidden behind the silk curtains, refusing to show her face.
"I didn't expect you to be so clever, little girl. To think you had a backup plan—sending your grandmother to the palace to find Empress Tian. What a pity. The Yan family thought they were people of the Eastern Palace, yet when their lackeys were being slaughtered, not a single person came to preserve the root of their house. You were left like fish on a chopping block."
Yan Xiao'er was not a rash person, but hearing her family described as "lackeys" caused her pent-up emotions to boil over. Ignoring the heat, she grabbed the incense burner beside her and hurled it at the curtains.
The female guard inside the room was quick to draw her sword, but she hadn't expected the frail-looking girl to move with such ferocity. Yan Xiao'er had cast the burning coals from the burner onto the silk, and flames instantly surged, consuming the thin curtains.
She wanted to see the face of her enemy clearly—to see what kind of eyes, nose, and mouth made up such a venomous heart. In the flickering firelight, Empress Cheng’s seductive face looked even more eerie. She remained remarkably composed, showing no fear, her lips curving into a slight smile as if she found the girl truly interesting.
As the fire spread to the pillars, it hit something that seemed to resist the flames; it could not spread further and soon died out. The floorboards, too, appeared to be coated in a fire-retardant substance.
One was a young girl in her prime who had narrowly escaped a gruesome death; the other was the favored, viperous Empress who held a blood feud against her. With the curtains burnt away, Yan Xiao'er clearly saw the legendary scar on Empress Cheng’s neck. A deep, red ring encircled her throat; from a distance, it looked like a necklace, but up close, it was a grisly scar. Empress Cheng made no attempt to hide it, letting it show like a birthmark.
Yan Xiao'er bit her lip. "Why didn't you let me die?"
"Hahaha. I am a strange person. I do as I please. As for my enemies, whatever they want to do, I make sure they don't do it. Empress Tian didn't care whether you lived or died, so I decided that I would. It’s that simple."
"Then why did you kill my parents?" The hostility in Yan Xiao'er’s eyes intensified.