Chen Wuya stood beside the table, his fingers still resting on the edge of the bronze token. The engraved mark had been lit bright by the hall's lamps, as though someone had drawn a fine blade across the bronze surface, leaving behind a mark that could never be erased.
He neither withdrew his hand nor spoke again. That one sentence just now—"I did not come here to beg anyone to believe me"—had sealed off every path of retreat. Now, all he could do was wait—wait for a sound from the side hall, wait for the verdict behind the curtains to fall.
The hundred officials stood in silence, none daring to move. Several clerks who had originally been near the table had long since retreated to their places, even softening their breaths. Bai Zhi stood half a step behind and to one side of him, still gripping her sword hilt, her knuckles faintly white. Her gaze swept over the crowd and settled on several officials who had been whispering among themselves. They immediately lowered their heads.
Suddenly, a palace eunuch hurried out through the side door of the side hall, carrying a roll of yellow silk. Without slowing, he entered the center of the main hall and unfurled the imperial decree.
"By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Following investigation, Prime Minister Yan Song has secretly colluded with the Northern Desert, forged military orders, switched tiger tallies, conspired with foreign enemies, and plotted rebellion. His acts have violated the laws; the evidence is conclusive, leaving no room for denial. Effective immediately, he is stripped of his office and thrown into the Imperial Prison, where the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review shall jointly try and sentence him. His family assets are to be confiscated, and his three