As usual, Mu Qingbai divided half of his dinner for the little monk.
The little monk waved his hand in refusal. “Forget it, forget it. This will be your last meal. I won’t compete with you for it.”
“Then how about a drink?”
The little monk hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Since that’s the case, let me borrow your wine to see you off on your final journey.”
He drank a cup and frowned.
“What is it?” Mu Qingbai asked.
“This wine is awful,” the little monk replied.
Mu Qingbai laughed, “You’re a monk, and you know wine?”
The little monk chuckled, “I’ve already broken the vow of lust. Do you think I still care about the prohibition on meat and wine?”
“It doesn’t matter. This is the death cell, we can’t expect too much.”
The little monk shook his head. “A man like Young Master Mu deserves far better than this kind of wine to send him off.”
Mu Qingbai found it amusing. “Think about it another way. If I drink one cup less, that’s one more mouthful of food for the common folk. Isn’t that better?”
The words stunned the little monk. After a moment, he lowered his head in guilt. “I’m powerless. All I can do is watch you die. It’s truly the greatest regret of my life.”
Mu Qingbai shook his head. “I really can’t understand why you’re so sorrowful. For me, this is a blessing.”
The little monk nodded heavily.
To be unable to put one’s talents to use, unable to fulfill one’s ambitions—this was a terrifying hell for any rare genius.
“Young Master Mu, what is the flourishing age you speak of?”
“I don’t remember clearly, but roughly… it’s a society where everyone is equal. Classes still exist, but they aren’t unbreakable. Struggle continues…”
“A nation with powerful technology. You can fly thousands of kilometers in an hour by plane, or travel a thousand kilometers by train in a day. Sea travel is no longer dangerous…”
Borrowing from his drunkenness, Mu Qingbai painted a fantastical picture for the little monk.
After a long silence, the little monk dumbly said, “Thousands of kilometers in one hour? Isn’t that an immortal airship? Young Master Mu, your madness is acting up again.”
“I’m not mad, but you wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”
“If you’re not mad, then this must be the Immortal Realm.”
“Haha.”
Just then, the jailer and two prison guards arrived at the cell with shackles and leg irons.
“Condemned prisoner Mu Qingbai, time to go!”
Mu Qingbai eagerly rushed to the door.
This startled the three men outside, but they quickly realized he wasn’t resisting—he was cooperating.
Soon, the guards had shackled Mu Qingbai.
“Young Master Mu!”
Mu Qingbai turned his head.
The little monk’s lips trembled before he finally asked, “Will the Great Yin ever be worthy of being called a flourishing age?”
“Impossible.”
Mu Qingbai answered without hesitation.
Of course it was impossible. Centuries of feudal decay had corroded the minds of the people. Class hierarchy was deeply rooted. That civilizational barrier couldn’t be broken.
The little monk’s expression dimmed. “Safe journey, Young Master Mu. This world, without you, will suffer its greatest loss.”
Seeing the monk so despondent, Mu Qingbai felt a tinge of guilt.
Would his casual words leave this man with a psychological scar?
Forget it. When death approaches, people speak kindly. Who told this era’s people to be so stubborn?
“Actually, the Empress has already done quite well.”
Mu Qingbai looked at the little monk and smiled, “The mountain passes are hard to cross. Who mourns the lost wanderer? Meeting by chance like drifting duckweed, all are guests far from home. Farewell.”
The little monk stared blankly at the empty cell door. “Fare…well…”
…
“Your Majesty, the prisoner has been taken away.”
Yin Yunlan seemed dazed. “He said just now that I’ve done well. Was that his recognition of my deeds?”
“Your Majesty stands above all, unmatched through the ages. Why care for another’s approval?”
Yin Yunlan shook her head. “To the execution ground.”
…
Execution Ground.
Not far from it was a slaughterhouse.
The blood and stench there couldn’t even cover the overwhelming smell and resentment in the air.
Crowds of civilians had already gathered outside.
On the execution platform, more than a dozen prisoners had been brought up.
Each condemned man wore a face full of grief, some even howling and weeping.
Only Mu Qingbai walked to the execution ground of his own will, without being forced.
He glanced at the butcher-like executioner, then at the stump where his head would soon rest.
His smile was harder to suppress than an automatic rifle.
How could he not compose a poem in such a moment?
“Life is but a grand dream, how many times has autumn’s chill returned…”
Before he could finish, the executioner glared and slammed him down onto the chopping block.
Suddenly, Mu Qingbai saw Yin Qiubai in the crowd below, face filled with disbelief.
She was about to rush forward, but Old Huang grabbed her tightly.
“Miss! In front of the entire city, if you act now, what position would that leave Her Majesty in?”
Yin Qiubai bit her lip hard.
Yes, she was the sharpest blade in the Empress’s hand.
If even the blade disobeyed the Empress, then chaos would surely follow.
Yin Qiubai looked into Mu Qingbai’s eyes with sorrow.
She was the undefeated goddess of war, sweeping through the nation from Huaizhou, winning every battle.
When had she ever felt powerless?
But now, for the first time, she felt an overwhelming helplessness.
Because she could not save this man of great talent and deep concern for the world.
“Old Huang, do you see it? Am I seeing wrong? Is he smiling?”
“Miss, he’s smiling. He’s not afraid to die,” Old Huang said solemnly.
Even Old Huang had never seen someone so calm in the face of death.
Even after surviving countless perilous situations, he couldn’t match Mu Qingbai’s serenity.
“Have you ever seen anyone unafraid of death?”
“Miss, I have not…”
“Could it be that he’d rather die than look at this world one more time?”
Old Huang fell silent, unable to understand, unable to respond.
Yin Qiubai clenched her fists tightly.
Yin Qiubai’s voice trembled. “I’m scared. Scared this world will truly become the one he described.”
Old Huang looked at her in surprise.
He didn’t know what kind of world she meant by ‘that world’, but the fear in her eyes was real.
Just then, the official overseeing the execution shouted.
“Midday has arrived!”
“—Begin the executions!”
All the condemned trembled in terror, sobbing in utter regret.
The executioner stepped forward, lifted his heavy blade, took a mouthful of wine, and spat it on the blade.
The chilled wine splashed onto the necks of the condemned. A shiver ran through their bodies, and the stench of urine and feces filled the air.
The blade rose high, then fell hard.
Crack.
A head rolled.
Everyone instinctively blinked.
Only Yin Qiubai and Old Huang kept watching.
Blood splattered onto the face of the next prisoner, making him scream uncontrollably—until his voice abruptly stopped.
A muffled thud followed. Another head dropped.
A head, a splash of warm blood.
The smell of blood quickly filled the air.
Nearly every condemned prisoner was trembling, except Mu Qingbai, who calmly lay on the stump.
Inside a carriage several dozen steps away, Yin Yunlan was watching him too.
She hoped to see even the faintest trace of fear in him.
But she would be disappointed.
Killing was hard labor.
The executioner was drenched in sweat, and soon, silence fell over the execution ground.
Then, Yin Qiubai heard a song she had never heard before.
Everyone turned to the final prisoner with disbelief.
—Mu Qingbai.
He lay on the stump, his body covered in the blood of others.
Yet he hummed a tune.
Even the executioner froze.
“The only pure white jasmine flower…” Yin Qiubai murmured.
That line of nursery rhyme seemed to shine with his purity amidst the ignorance of the world.
Yin Qiubai looked downcast. “Even stained with blood, it cannot sully the bright moon that rises alone in the long night. I may appear radiant, but my hands are covered in blood.”
“Miss… please mind your words!”
“The world has beheaded the bright moon. From now on, in this eternal night, there shall be no more moonlight for mankind.”
“Miss…”
“If Her Majesty cannot even bear to hear these words, then she is no enlightened ruler!”
At last, the executioner returned to his senses and raised the blade high once more.
Yin Qiubai looked up in despair and closed her eyes.
A tear slid down.
Clang!