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墨書 Inktalez
Sang Qingxiao shook his head. With things having progressed to this point, he decided not to intervene any longer. If the boy died, it would be a life given as compensation to the Sang Family; if he lived, sometimes it might be better to have died. In any case, whether dead or alive, it was all their fate.
Old Vine noticed that Sang Qingxiao wore no smile and seemed in low spirits. Was he still thinking about that young lad? That was a release for him. It also served to benefit Mingchang Princess.
That was how the events in the grand hall unfolded.
Sang Qingxiao's lips twitched slightly; after all, it was a human life. This was the first time he had killed an innocent person. Was that boy even considered a person? Old Vine consoled him, saying that the child, nearly ten years old but looking only five or six, was so thin that he appeared like a skeleton lying there. Years of medication had left his skin dark and purple, and he breathed more out than in, with a constant expression of pain on his face.
The child had been tormented to the point of losing his humanity, yet that mad Princess still refused to give up and continued to try various remedies. He had drunk human blood, eaten rotten flesh, been bled dry, soaked in poison, and even had his bones scraped!
The ten most brutal tortures were nothing compared to this. If you asked him, that mad Princess didn't love the child; it was merely her obsession.
Though you took action against him, you chose a method that allowed him to die comfortably. If you asked him, he must have been grateful to you; didn’t you see him open his eyes at the end and smile at you?
If your heart still feels uneasy, let Misha chant some scriptures for him; may he be reborn into a good family in his next life.
More than ten days later, news came from the border that Sun Chuan Sheng had resisted arrest and attempted to flee across the border but was shot dead on the spot.
Subsequently, the Court revealed the truth behind the Riverbed Corpse Case. The section regarding Mingchang Princess was glossed over; although it did not hide that she had killed eighty-one people, public attention was directed toward Sun Chuan Sheng and his aunt.
This must be the cleverness and power of language.
Mingchang Princess was still merely demoted to commoner status and escorted to a nunnery in the Suburbs of the Capital, where she would chant scriptures day and night for the deceased.
Consort Lin was executed by Lingchi; her household was sentenced to execution after autumn, while other uninformed members of the Sun Family were exiled for three thousand miles.
When Sang Qingxiao heard this verdict, he had Misha chant scriptures for that child several more times.
As summer waned into early autumn, there was a hint of fall in the air.
Waking up early in the morning feeling somewhat parched and coughing lightly a few times, he hurriedly stewed a pot of snow pear and white fungus soup, garnished with goji berries and red dates, sweetened with honey.
He scooped a spoonful and drank it down; it was soft and smooth with a sweet syrupy taste that warmed his stomach as if his throat had been cleansed. It felt incredibly comforting.
Sang Qingxiao drank three large bowls in succession and was just about to sneak off to the backyard when Yong Huai strode in with an anxious expression. Sang Qingxiao greeted him with a smile, "You all seem quite busy these days; it's been quite some time since we last met."
"Indeed," Yong Huai replied. "During this time, I've been left here alone in the Capital."
"Your hard work ensures that the common people can live peacefully."
"Likewise," Yong Huai said with a smile, but his expression quickly turned serious. "I came to ask for your assistance, Miss Sang."
"Oh?" Sang Qingxiao invited him to sit down and served him a bowl of mung bean soup. "What seems to be troubling you? Is there something you need my help with?"
"It might disrupt the business of the Small Tavern. I wonder if you would be willing to assist, Miss Sang?"
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