Chapter 221

Chapter 221: The Last Drink

February thirteenth.

From Ji Prefecture, Wang Ye led a long line of prisoners bound for the capital—those guilty souls involved in the cotton-burning plot.

Emperor Chong Sheng decreed that, on February fifteenth, these villains would face public execution in the city square, their deaths a stern lesson to all.

Old Madam Du and her pampered Du family members no longer carried themselves as proud nobles. After the bitter, harsh journey, the old madam’s prayer-bead-holding hands had swollen like soaked tree bark. Du Third Master and the others, stripped of their finery, appeared no better than common farmers, perhaps even more cowardly.

Yan Hai hung his head low, unwilling to let former colleagues see him in such disgrace.

Each prisoner wore the face of someone already doomed, each shrinking into their clothes to dodge snowballs flung by unseen hands.

Yet among them, one man lifted his head, scanning the crowds eagerly.

Lin Yi refused to believe the Young Heir had abandoned him.

He didn’t believe it when captured in Ji Prefecture. He refused to believe it when interrogated by Wang Ye. And now, even dragged back to the capital, he still did not believe it!

He firmly believed the Young Heir must be working tirelessly to save him. The reason he was still imprisoned, Lin Yi told himself, was simply that the right moment had not yet arrived.

But as he searched desperately, gusts of icy wind and snow filled his eyes, obscuring his view. The figure he hoped for never appeared.

The prison wagon rolled into the imperial dungeon.

Lin Yi was thrown behind bars alongside the others.

In a corner, Old Madam Du curled up, thinking [Good… so good. I’ve made it alive to the capital at last.]

She had been promised that if she confessed to the entire cotton-burning scheme, the younger Du family members and Ming Yi’s official post would remain safe.

Ming Yi had worked so hard to reach Fourth Rank Prefect.

Young Master Kuang was so scholarly gifted…

And so many talented descendants from South Du—

Even if she must die, she would protect them!

That hope kept the Du family breathing. Yet survival had become agony.

“Young man!” Lin Yi called through the iron bars, beckoning to a prison guard.

The guard intended to ignore these despicable criminals who had tormented the common folk. Yet, the voice sounded familiar, prompting him to move closer. He squinted, astonished. “Aren’t you… Brother Lin Yi? How did you end up here, locked up with these villains?”

Lin Yi used to handle estate and trade negotiations in the capital for Qi Shu Xian. He was calm, steady, and always helpful, winning respect from many—including this guard.

Lin Yi smiled bitterly. “It’s complicated. But please, if Heir Apparent Qi visits, could you let him know—”

“Heir Apparent Qi?” The guard was startled. “You didn’t know? Heir Apparent Qi is Deputy General Qi now. He left with the provision convoy, heading north to oversee the war!”

“What?” Lin Yi’s head spun.

The Young Heir… had left?

He had gone north!

What about him? Was he truly going to be executed the day after tomorrow?

A deep, unfamiliar panic gripped Lin Yi’s heart.

Meanwhile, at Duke Qi’s residence.

Jiang Mang had been standing outside for hours. The house steward had chased him away many times, yet Jiang Mang remained as still as stone, refusing to budge.

Lin Yi had led the cotton convoy and was arrested for conspiring with South Du’s wealthy merchants. Jiang Mang, however, had been mistakenly recognized while rescuing commoners, narrowly escaping arrest.

But watching helplessly as his comrades were beaten, and Lin Yi dragged back to face execution, Jiang Mang had hurried back to the capital day and night with the escort team.

Only upon arrival did he learn that Qi Shu Xian had already departed for the Northern Desert.

The Young Heir was gone. What would become of Lin Yi?

Jiang Mang disliked Lin Yi. He even found him irritating. Yet he knew Lin Yi had acted on the Young Heir’s orders.

Now, the Young Heir was safe, promoted even, while Lin Yi faced death.

Jiang Mang needed answers. If he couldn’t see Qi Shu Xian, he would see Miss Meng. He would ask her why.

Thus, Jiang Mang refused to leave. The Duke’s people refused to grant him entry, but Jiang Mang was stubborn. He waited from dawn till dusk, then dusk till dawn again.

When tired, he squatted outside the Duke’s gates; thirsty, he ate snow; hungry, he bought simple bread.

His strange vigil soon drew whispers from passing citizens.

Inside, Duke Qi wanted nothing more than to have him beaten and thrown out. But with the Duke’s house already in trouble, he didn’t dare.

At midday, gritting his teeth, Duke Qi finally summoned Jiang Mang inside.

“Shu Xian is not in the capital! What do you want? To oppose our Duke’s house?” Duke Qi sneered arrogantly.

Jiang Mang bowed stiffly. “I dare not. I simply wish to speak with Miss Meng.”

Miss Meng?

Duke Qi paused, remembering Meng Yang. That lowly girl—even as a mere concubine, she still brought trouble to his house?

Duke Qi scoffed coldly. “Impossible. Meng Yang is now just a concubine. She cannot meet strange men. State your business or leave! If you continue standing outside, even Shu Xian’s reputation won’t save you from a beating!”

Concubine?

Jiang Mang stood shocked, having not yet heard this news.

Duke Qi spat contemptuously, “It was your and Meng Yang’s deeds that burdened Shu Xian! If not for Northern Di’s rebellion, Shu Xian would still be a guard without rank!”

Was it true?

Had they harmed Shu Xian?

Jiang Mang grimaced bitterly. Suddenly, he no longer wished to ask. He turned and left Duke Qi’s mansion.

That night, he drank himself numb.

The next day, crowds flooded toward the execution grounds. Jiang Mang, dazed and drunk, stumbled along with them.

He stood among the commoners, hearing their hateful curses and abuse hurled at those condemned.

He watched as they flung filth at the prisoners on stage.

He spotted Lin Yi kneeling behind Ji Prefecture’s Prefect Yan Hai and the Du clan. Lin Yi’s status was so low he wasn’t even worthy of kneeling up front.

The crowd’s noise pounded painfully in Jiang Mang’s ears.

Holding a jar of wine, he tried stepping forward.

Before he could approach, guards blocked him. Lin Yi lifted his gaze. Their eyes met.

Lin Yi’s face remained blank. [Jiang Mang must be here to mock me,] he thought bitterly. He’d always believed Jiang Mang was foolish. Great deeds always required sacrifices. If someone else was sacrificed, why worry?

Yet now, it turned out Lin Yi himself was the fool.

Lin Yi looked away.

Then, a loud crash sounded—the wine jar shattered on the ground. Guards drew their swords.

Yet Jiang Mang merely cupped his fists toward Lin Yi.

“Lin Yi, this last drink—I, Jiang Mang, will pay for it!”

With that, Jiang Mang turned away.

Lin Yi stared at his departing figure, speechless and frozen.

From behind him came the call, “Time’s up! Execute!”

Jiang Mang staggered away blindly, step after stumbling step, until finally, he fell heavily to the cold ground.