Imperial Plaza was swept by biting winds, and the atmosphere was grim.
Tang Li, the Phoenix Empire's God of War of a generation and Commander of the Three Armies, had been convicted of treason. Today, he, his family, and his accomplices would be executed.
Because Tang Li had held high office for many years and liked to lead from the front in battle, earning brilliant military achievements and countless diehard followers, the Empire's Military Committee had decided, after deliberation, to execute him and his family by the most ancient method—execution by fire. The event would also be broadcast live to the military and civilians across the nation, serving as a warning to others.
It was said that this method of death was highly entertaining. The criminals would struggle painfully within their cages, yet no matter what they did, they could not escape their sturdy prisons. In the end, before everyone's eyes, they would turn to charcoal and vanish into ashes.
The vast plaza was packed so tightly that not even water could pass through. Everyone wore solemn expressions as they tried their best to look toward the temporary platform.
The platform was piled high with dry firewood, atop which sat one cage after another, forged from Luo Jin, a material newly developed by the Imperial Science and Technology Research Institute.
This metal could not be cleaved by blades or melted by fire. Even the latest laser weapons would require a long time to cut through it.
The cage holding Tang Li, the principal offender, stood in the center, the largest and most conspicuous of them all.
Naturally, it was also dozens, perhaps hundreds, of times sturdier than those holding the other accomplices.
Inside the cage, Tang Li's limbs were tightly secured by chains forged from Luo Jin. Of his entire body, only his head could move.
There were no wails and no pleas for help, because he knew that none of it meant anything anymore.
He merely gazed at his wife with deep affection and reluctance, and at the child in her arms, who had been born less than three days ago.
Yes, they would not even spare a child.
If the roots were not cut, spring breeze would bring new growth.
"I'm sorry!"
"I'm sorry!"
"I'm sorry!"
Tang Li's throat had long since been rendered mute by poison. He could not make a sound, but his wife could tell what he wanted to say from the shape of his lips.
His wife, Chen Yan, was gaunt and withered, tears filling her eyes as she desperately shook her head. She told Husband that it was all right, it was all right. They were family, they were family. Even if they died, they would die together.
Yet even with all her strength, all she could produce were muffled, indistinct sobs.
They had no way to communicate with words. Even saying goodbye was a luxury.
Fortunately, they did not need to say goodbye. Ten years as husband and wife, twenty years of companionship—long ago, their hearts had become one. A single glance was enough to convey everything.
"The time has come. Carry out the execution!"
With a loud shout from the black-clad, black-masked inspector, more than a dozen burly men holding torches surged in from every direction and ignited the firewood beneath the cages.
Boom!
The dry firewood, soaked with accelerant, rapidly caught fire. The raging flames instantly swallowed one enormous Luo Jin cage after another.
Chen Yan clutched her child and desperately pressed herself toward Husband's embrace. Closer, just a little closer.
Husband's embrace was the safest, warmest place in the world.
It had been before, and it still was now!
At the foot of the green mountains stood a small farmhouse courtyard.
A man in plain clothes sat in the yard, holding a delicate little infant in his arms. The baby was wrapped in an enormous black cloak, its tiny body unable to move. It could only use its beautiful eyes to examine the man before it and everything around it.
The man's expression was desolate, his face ashen, a deep tear track at the corner of his eye.
No one knew how much time passed before he suddenly picked up the wine bottle from the small table beside him and poured himself a brimming cup.
He raised the cup, dripped a single drop into the infant's mouth, and said, "From today onward, we're family. Come on, little fellow, let's celebrate."
The strong liquor went down the baby's throat, making its little face flush bright red from the burn. It burst into loud sobs.
The man paid it no mind. He drained the remaining wine in his cup in one gulp, then sang hoarsely to the Qingfeng and bright moon before him, "After a hundred battles, the general's body and name are shattered. By the river bridge, he turns his head; beyond lie ten thousand miles, and old friends forever gone."
"By the Yi River, the bleak west wind blows cold; the hall of caps and robes is white as snow. The hero's mournful song has not yet ended. Even crying birds know such grief; they may not shed clear tears, but they will cry blood."
"Who will drink with me beneath the bright moon?"
From inside the house came a woman's voice, choked with tears she had suppressed for too long.
It sounded like harmony!