After the eunuch delivered the imperial edict, the old matriarch and Madam Wu’an didn’t even have time to grieve the loss of their son, husband, and grandsons before the jailer turned hostile.
“Old Madam Guo, Madam Guo, Miss Guo, remove all the gold and silver jewelry from your bodies.
Don’t make my men do it themselves. They’re rough hands—if anyone gets hurt, it won’t be my fault,” the jailer said, laying a rough cloth before the matriarch with a mix of three parts smile, seven parts threat.
“What do you think you are, speaking to my grandmother like that?” the fifth daughter, a concubine-born Miss, shouted.
“Oh, no wonder you’re a mansion lady—delicate skin and tender flesh. Better than the courtesans I sleep with, a little smoother maybe. How about we indulge ourselves today for free?”
The jailer grabbed the fifth Miss’s hand, running it back and forth while making lewd comments.
“Let go of me! Who do you think you are, touching me?” the girl shouted, still failing to understand the situation.
“Heh, who am I? I’m the authority in charge of you sinners now,” the jailer said, pulling her close and preparing to kiss her.
“Stop!” the matriarch shouted.
“The emperor’s edict says these granddaughters are to be married to soldiers on the frontier.
If even one of my granddaughters is insulted today, the others will go with her. I wonder if you and your men can handle that outcome,” she warned.
As a lifelong matriarch, niece of the late Duke and cousin of the current Duke, even as a prisoner, she radiated authority.
Moreover, the current Duke hadn’t taken sides. Though he hadn’t achieved glory in the new regime, his family’s legacy made it unlikely the new emperor would touch them.
Even if ignored, the matriarch could crush a lowly jailer without effort.
“Misunderstanding, misunderstanding, Old Madam. We only want wealth,” the jailer said with a laugh, letting go of the fifth Miss and gesturing toward the cloth on the ground.
“Take off all the jewelry and money immediately,” the matriarch instructed her granddaughters and daughters-in-law.
Soon, the cloth was piled high with gold and silver—each piece a fine artifact.
The once glamorous ladies and young women now appeared plain, their fine clothes dulled.
“Hurry up, or else…” the jailer shouted, brandishing a stick, hitting anyone slow to comply.
In the adjacent cell, older maids had already been beaten for trying to grab food.
Shen Ruyi quietly pulled out her old patched pouch from her space, containing over two hundred copper coins—enough for a lowly maid.
When the jailer came, she lowered her head, trembling, and handed him the pouch.
Seeing the coins and Shen Ruyi in her dull maid uniform, the jailer hesitated and moved on to the next person.
Shen Ruyi lowered her head, exhaling quietly, and moved to an inconspicuous corner.
After two more days of only one black bun per day, the women were finally led out of the cell to sunlight.
As seen on TV, released prisoners always looked up at the sky, shielding their eyes from the sun, tears streaming, squinting to take in the light.
Shen Ruyi, having endured days in the dark, was now teary-eyed, squinting toward the sky, wanting to feel the sunlight.
“Follow quickly, don’t lag behind,” the jailer ordered.
They were led westward, escorted to prevent escape or falling behind.
Luckily, being all women, they weren’t chained with heavy irons.
As they passed the vegetable market, they witnessed the execution of Wu’an Marquis and other male family members.
Perhaps it was deliberately arranged.
The old matriarch, Madam Wu’an, and the ladies wept aloud.
On the platform, the young male heirs awaiting execution cried out for their grandmother and aunts.
Shen Ruyi looked up—these were children between five and ten years old. She turned her gaze down, blinking back tears.
“Mother, take care of yourself. I go ahead. Madam, care for yourself and the children,” the young Marquis said to the old matriarch and Madam Wu’an.
The matriarch, Madam Wu’an, and the young ladies wept uncontrollably, their blurred eyes following the young heirs.
“The time has come. Execute!”
The crowd’s cries intensified, their volume multiplying.
The executioner raised his sword; blood streaked through the air as the heads of several young male heirs rolled off the platform.
Shen Ruyi saw one head stop at the feet of the matriarch.
“Grandmother! Mother!” the young ladies cried.
Shen Ruyi, pale and trembling, had never witnessed an actual execution.
After more than two years in this new world, she now truly realized the feudal society’s harsh realities—strict hierarchy, no human rights.
She shivered, certain the execution was orchestrated, likely by the newly enthroned emperor.
Otherwise, why would they be hurried earlier, then left waiting on the platform?
It was as if the crowd was deliberately brought to witness this spectacle.
“Alright, you have been allowed to see your relatives for the last time. Now move quickly—the frontier soldiers await at the city gate. Don’t delay, or you’ll suffer on the journey,” the jailer instructed.
Perhaps the public beheading was too shocking to process immediately.
Or perhaps, seeing family members waiting to escort them, the jailer’s tone softened compared to the prison.