Chapter 52: I’ll Give It a Good Whipping When I Get Back Part 2

Gu Huaiyu’s expression remained cold as he narrowed his eyes at the man.

He couldn’t tell if this person was provoking him or simply stating a fact so brazenly that it bordered on shamelessness.

“I’ll have to trouble Your Lordship to let me breathe.”

Pei Jingyi suddenly reached up. Over the leather of the boot, he slowly gripped Gu Huaiyu’s foot and lifted it slightly. After catching his breath, he chuckled. “Your Lordship has misunderstood. This thing simply has a preference for beauties.”

“With a beauty carved of jade like Your Lordship, I have no way to stop it when it starts acting up.”

He wiped the smile from his face and spoke with mock solemnity. “I’ll give it a good whipping when I get back. I’ll teach it a lesson.”

Gu Huaiyu’s foot hit the ground. He turned and walked back to the carriage without a second glance.

As a man, he naturally understood the baser instincts of his gender—to be moved by beauty, to be unable to control one’s lower half; it was common enough.

He just hadn’t expected that his “beauty” could actually evoke such a reaction.

He reached the carriage but didn’t board. Instead, he looked at an Iron Eagle Guard on horseback. “Give him your horse. You drive.”

The guard immediately dismounted, led the horse to the now-standing Pei Jingyi, and handed him the reins while whispering a few words.

“The Lord Chancellor is merciful. I’ll go tend to my wounds now.” Pei Jingyi vaulted onto the horse. The movement pulled at the wounds on his back, but he didn’t even flinch.

He yanked the reins to turn the horse around and called out loudly, “I won’t be an eyesore when I report to the Chancellor’s Estate tomorrow!”

Gu Huaiyu gave a slight nod and climbed into the warm carriage.

***

The Great Hall of the Court of Judicial Review, the Capital.

This place, usually cold and solemn, reserved for officials to judge cases, was now packed to the rafters.

Men and women, young and old—dozens of people had come to “confess” to the murder of the Eastern Liao envoy, Wu Wei.

Each person told a vivid story, speaking with such conviction it sounded as if Wu Wei had been hacked into pieces by a rotating shift of everyone in the room.

But the Vice-Envoy was no fool. How could he not see that these people were here to take the fall?

Currently, the Vice-Envoy sat in a sandalwood chair at the side of the hall, his face dark with rage. “Master Nie, start the trial already!”

After the interpreter translated, Nie Jin remained sitting in silence, his eyes closed.

His black official robes made his face look as hard as iron; not even his eyelashes flickered.

From last night until now, no matter how much the commoners clamored, he hadn’t allowed the bailiffs to bring a single person before the bench.

The Vice-Envoy stood up abruptly, his wide sleeves fluttering as he marched aggressively toward the judge’s desk.

He slammed his hand on the desk with a loud bang, silencing the crowd below.

“Master Nie!” he barked, forcing out each word. “Why won’t you judge?”

“These people are talking nonsense! It’s clear someone paid these commoners to muddy the waters!”

Nie Jin slowly opened his eyes. He looked at the Vice-Envoy with an expression the man couldn’t decipher—something between mockery and self-derision. He uttered only one cold word: “Judge?”

The Vice-Envoy leaned in, fire burning in his eyes. “Or are you trying to protect the real killer?”

The interpreter finished translating with a tremble, then added shakily, “The Envoy says if you delay any longer, he will treat you as an accomplice…”

Nie Jin acted as if he hadn’t heard. He stood up and walked through the noisy crowd, ignoring the hands reaching out from all directions.

“Master Nie! Arrest me! I’m the one who stabbed that barbarian with my butcher knife!”

“Bullshit! It was clearly me! I cracked his skull with my rolling pin!”

“Move aside! I’m the true killer—”

When the Vice-Envoy and the interpreter followed him out, they found him standing before the stone stele in front of the hall. His slender fingers traced the four seal-script characters: Laws of Great Chen.

“Master Nie!”

The Vice-Envoy carried orders from Yelü Chi and couldn’t afford any delay. He pointed at the interpreter and shouted, “Tell him! If he doesn’t give Eastern Liao an answer today, when our Iron Cavalry breaks through the city gates tomorrow, I’ll be the first to cut off his head!”

Nie Jin’s finger stopped in the groove of the final stroke of the character for “Law.”

The carvings in the stone were suddenly awash with light—hot, flowing light, like molten liquid.

He looked up abruptly.

The sky’s light fell like a waterfall, bathing the entire stele in a golden glow.

The carved laws and regulations became crystal clear under the sunlight; even the most obscure small-print annotations were blindingly bright.

So, all these years…

It was the sun illuminating the stone.

The thing that glowed had never been this monument covered in proclamations of justice.

It was someone using their own body as a torch, drawing the heavenly light onto this cold, iron-like slab.

Nie Jin let out a long breath and suddenly spoke: “Men!”

Several bailiffs hurried forward. The head constable bowed. “What are your orders, My Lord?”

“This stone stele—smash it.”

The bailiffs froze, exchanging confused glances.

The head constable turned pale. “My Lord… this is the Law Tablet bestowed by the late Emperor Taizong…”

Nie Jin’s gaze was calm as he slowly swept his eyes over the crowd. “What? Does my word no longer carry weight?”

His aura was too cold, too hard. The bailiffs didn’t dare disobey. They reluctantly lifted their heavy hammers.

The interpreter’s legs were already shaking. His lips quivered, unsure whether he should translate or not.

The first hammer fell. The character for “Law” shattered instantly.

The Vice-Envoy jumped at the sound. He grabbed the interpreter’s collar. “What is wrong with the heads of you Great Chen people?”

Nie Jin was deaf to the world. His back was ramrod straight, and he didn’t even blink. “Continue.”

Bang—

Bang—

Stone shards flew; dust filled the air.

The head constable gripped his hammer, sobbing quietly as he struck. “My Lord… the law might not be able to restrain the people of Eastern Liao, but Great Chen cannot be without it…”

“It is a dead thing.”

Nie Jin leaned down and picked up a fragment of the broken monument. His thumb slowly brushed over the fractured character for “Statute.”

“Laws carved in stone are ultimately dead.”

But living justice resides in the hearts of the people.