Chapter 33: You Won’t Die

(Imperial Study – Palace)

Commander Geng Jing stood rigid before the Emperor’s vast desk, recounting his dungeon conversation with Xu Yi.

Emperor Jing lazily lifted his vermilion brush, tracing characters on fine paper:

Ten paces, one life;
A thousand miles, shadows vanish.
Deeds done, sleeves brushed clean—
Reputation endures, secrets buried deep.
"Men err, saints excepted;
Yet my loyal name alone shall grace the annals."
"Water bears the boat,
Water sinks the boat…"

The Emperor read aloud, savoring each phrase. Poetry was his passion. "That boy… is dangerously brilliant. But reckless. Shows no reverence for the throne."
His gaze sharpened on Geng. "Your assessment?"

Geng chose his words like stepping on blades. "His Majesty, Xu Yi fears no authority. Not even…"
"—Ours?" The Emperor’s voice dropped to ice.
Geng Jing crashed to his knees, sweat beading his brow. "This servant misspoke! I beg mercy!"

After a suffocating silence, the Emperor waved a hand. "Rise."
As Geng swayed upright, the Emperor continued, "Progress on the Heiyanwang?"
"None, Your Majesty. Noble sons still hoard those demonic beasts. We hunt them."

The Emperor’s fist clenched. "We banned those creatures. Do they deem our word wind?"
"Thorough eradication. Understood." Geng felt winter in his bones. Another purge.

"See it done." The Emperor’s tone softened unexpectedly. "And Geng Jing? Do not mistreat Xu Yi. The boy’s frail. Ensure his meals include meat. Daily."
"By Your Majesty’s will!"

As Geng retreated, Chief Eunuch Quan Sheng materialized from the shadows.
"Your thoughts on Xu Yi, Quan Sheng?"
"He wears courtesy like armor, Sire. Pride burns beneath."

The Emperor stared into the middle distance. "The Crown Prince wavers. Old wolves will tear him apart when I’m gone… He needs a pillar. A true minister."
Quan Sheng bowed. "Ten thousand years to Your Majes—"
"Flattery won’t stop death," the Emperor cut in, weary. "Kings rot like paupers. Those elixirs? They grant vigor, perhaps… not eternity." A shadow crossed his face. Every emperor dreamed of immortality. Jing was no fool—he swallowed the alchemists’ promises but knew their limits.

(Imperial Investigation Bureau Dungeon – Days Later)

Time bled into stone. Xu Yi sat in his cell, untouched by interrogators, drowning in roasted pheasant and braised pork. Each lavish meal felt like a taunt.

Today’s spread: whole chicken, glistening duck, pickled vegetables.
Xu Yi called to the retreating jailer: "Guard! Why feed a dead man?"
"Eat. Don’t ask." The man vanished.

Xu Yi kicked the bars. "Just chop me already! This is torture!"
Silence answered.

"You won’t die."

The voice, rough as gravel, came through the shared stone wall. Xu Yi startled—he’d thought the cell empty.
"How d’you know?" he pressed against the cold rock.

"No one leaves this dungeon alive. Not without… persuasion." The voice held grim certainty. "You’re the first I’ve seen fed like royalty instead of broken on the rack."
"My crime’s obvious?" Xu Yi scoffed. "Beat the Fifth Prince bloody."

A stunned silence echoed back. In this world, the act was sacrilege.
Xu Yi turned the question: "You?"
"Murdered a magistrate. His family. Seven lives."
"Holy shit." Xu Yi whistled. "That’s a nine-generations execution."
A bitter laugh scraped the stones.

Xu Yi slid down the wall. "Why? Why kill a magistrate?"
"Deserved it."
"Talk. I’m not telling anyone."
"Facing the headsman in days. What’s to tell?"

Xu Yi probed, "Three years a ‘clean’ official, pockets stuffed with silver? Man doesn’t wipe out a bloodline for fun. They pushed you."

The silence thickened, then cracked with raw fury:
"Magistrate. Gentry. Merchants. All leeches. Invented taxes. Monopolized trade. Squeezed Zhenyuan dry… like fish on a slab. Kill him, or watch the county starve."

Respect stirred in Xu Yi. "That… that’s righteous slaughter."
"Righteous?" The laugh was hollow. "Thought one life could buy a thousand. Fool. This world… too dark."
Hopelessness bled through the stone.

"Your name? You from Zhenyuan?"
"Drifter. Bone-setter. Ghost of the road."

Xu Yi sighed. "Real courage wears a butcher’s apron. Betrayal dresses in scholar’s robes." He knocked his head gently against the wall. "Wish I could help. Just another caged bird here."