Chapter 1: Vicious Dogs
The soldiers on the watchtowers and city walls had been bribed. Those with steadfast wills were secretly cut down by traitors before they could report the news to the Imperial City. With collaborators on the inside and the army on the outside, the signal fires only began to rise when the enemy army had already reached the gates of Bei Miao City. By the time the warning bells rang throughout the Imperial City, the enemy had already broken through.
When Feng Qi, the King of Bei Miao, opened his eyes, he did not see Lord Yama. Instead, his soul floated ethereally in the mortal realm, his consciousness still intact. He watched with his own eyes as the city gates were breached and the common people were plundered. And that person… was escorted back to the capital by the enemy, locked in a cage meant for beasts.
[Translator’s Notes:
Lord Yama: The king of the underworld in Chinese mythology, who judges the souls of the dead.]
Feng Qi thought to himself, Perhaps this is Heaven’s punishment for me, a sinner and the ruler of a fallen nation? To be nothing but a lonely, wandering spirit, forever unable to reincarnate.
Yes, Feng Qi was dead.
A large host of enemy troops had flooded into the Imperial Study. Feng Qi and his imperial shadow guards had fought to the death but were still no match. At the critical moment, the Left General, Wen Ning’an, who was far away at the frontier, received a fragmented urgent report and rushed back overnight.
Wen Ning’an led only a small, elite squad deep into the Imperial City. But for the two of them, the once-forbidden palace had already become a deathtrap, surrounded on all sides. Yet, even though they were vastly outnumbered, he still managed to rescue Feng Qi. But the rebels were cunning. To ensure there were no mistakes, they had actually poisoned Feng Qi’s food.
In the end, Wen Ning’an was overwhelmed. He lost his elite soldiers, and he lost Feng Qi. And this renowned Left General, whose very name kept the border tribes at bay, was captured…
At this moment, Feng Qi’s soul was inside the Golden Throne Hall. On the Dragon Throne that had once belonged to him sat another man: the King of Hong Xi. His own Empress stood beside the King of Hong Xi, her eyes filled with adoration and worship as she looked at him.
Wen Ning’an was bound in iron chains, kneeling in the center of the hall.
A Hong Xi general, holding an iron whip, said viciously to Wen Ning’an, “General Wen, if you weren’t so stubborn, you could spare yourself some of this physical suffering.”
Wen Ning’an bit his lower lip and remained silent, not even knitting his brows. His body was already dripping with fresh blood, his skin split open and his flesh torn.
“Speak!”
Another lash of the whip fell.
“Where is Feng Qi’s corpse!”
The King of Hong Xi stroked the warm jade on the armrest and shook his head. “Wen Ning’an, Feng Qi is already dead. Why must you insist on protecting his corpse?”
Wen Ning’an raised his head. “Since he is already dead, why must the King of Hong Xi be so obsessed with obtaining His Majesty’s body?”
Feng Qi sneered internally. It was, of course, so they could mutilate his body into a thousand pieces and hang his head on the city walls as a show of power. Wen Ning’an must have known this, which was why he had immediately buried his body properly and hidden it away after he died. And yet…
Crack—
The iron whip snapped. Wen Ning’an could no longer hold himself up and collapsed to the side.
If Feng Qi still had a body of flesh and blood, his palms would have been bleeding from how tightly he was clenching his fists.
He would rather Wen Ning’an just tell them.
Five years ago, on the night of Feng Qi’s coronation, the two of them had gotten drunk and done something they shouldn’t have. That incident had made Feng Qi understand Wen Ning’an’s feelings for him.
Beyond shock, he had felt disgust. For years, Feng Qi had never shown Wen Ning’an a kind face, even exiling him to the frontier. Yet now, this man whom Feng Qi could never accept was still protecting him so fiercely, even after his death.
His heart grew so heavy he wished he could die right away—a true, final death, so he would no longer have to endure the torturous scene before him.
A shadow passed over the King of Hong Xi’s eyes. He waved his hand, and his servants led in several enormous hunting dogs.
“Wen Ning’an, you should think this through. These hounds have been starved for several days…”
The servants brought the hounds to Wen Ning’an’s side. The scent of blood on his body immediately drove the dogs into a frenzy. They drooled and panted, and if not for the servants holding tight to the leashes, the famished hounds would have already pounced on him.
“I (朕) will give you one last chance. Where. Is. Feng Qi’s. Corpse.”
[Translator’s note:
The Chinese imperial pronoun 朕 (zhèn) is a special way for emperors to say “I” with great authority. Unlike the English royal “We” (known as the majestic plural), which monarchs use to emphasize their role as sovereigns representing their kingdoms, 朕 is singular but still very formal and powerful. In this translation, it is rendered as “I” (sometimes “I, the Emperor”) to keep the meaning clear.]
Wen Ning’an silently closed his eyes.
“Heh.”
The King of Hong Xi waved his hand, and the servants released their tight grip on the leashes…
Flesh and blood flew everywhere.
The thick stench of blood made several maids standing in the corner turn away and vomit. The man’s uncontrollable screams of pain echoed through the magnificent and decadent hall.
Feng Qi could bear it no longer. His vision swam and went black, and he finally lost consciousness…
