Extra Chapter 2: Xue Cheng: The Collapse of Metal and Stone

In the capital city of the fifteenth year of Taichu, spring had already arrived and willow catkins were flying like snow.

Xue Cheng, the former governor of Youzhou and now the Duke of Zhenguo, is over sixty years old.

There had been no war at the border for a long time, and his sharp sword, which had once terrified the Western Qiang and Northern Shuo, was finally able to be hung in the hall, its edge hidden.

That afternoon, like many afternoons in the past three years, he strolled into an inconspicuous wine shop in the south of the city.

"Duke, you are here." The owner was a man in his thirties with a plain face and a Hebei accent. When he saw him come in, he greeted him familiarly.

"Old rules." Xue Cheng nodded and sat down in his old seat by the window.

This shop opened three years ago. The owner is from Heshuo and can make some snacks with Heshuo flavor. The wine he brews also has the sharpness and mellowness of his hometown, allowing him, an old soldier who has lived in Heshuo for many years, to always taste some of the old times.

A pot of warm wine and a few side dishes were quickly served.

Xue Cheng poured himself a drink and looked out the window at the bustling streets. It was a peaceful year and the people lived in peace. This was a scene he had never dared to imagine when he was in the sea of ​​blood in Youzhou.

Today, the shop owner did not retreat as usual. He hesitated for a moment and said, "Duke, if you don't mind, I would like to have a couple of drinks with you."

Xue Cheng was a little surprised, then waved his hand: "No problem, sit down."

The owner brought wine cups, sat down opposite, and filled them for Xue Cheng and himself.

After a few drinks, they started talking more.

Xue Cheng asked, "Isn't Heshuo better now?"

The innkeeper heard this and replied, "When I left my hometown, it was already filled with smoke from cooking fires and herds of cattle and sheep. Now that a few years have passed, I believe things must be even better."

Xue Cheng drank the wine in his glass, a trace of comfort flashed in his cloudy eyes: "That's good, that's good."

The shopkeeper continued, "This is also due to your Majesty's love for the people, and even more so to the Duke's dedication in defending the land."

Xue Cheng pondered for a moment, then lowered his voice and said, "It's all thanks to Your Majesty's great blessing and diligent governance that the people have been given a new life. I, Xue... have no credit."

The shop owner looked at him and suddenly asked, "When the Duke led the troops to annihilate the Western Qiang and defeat the Northern Shuo, it was so glorious. How did it feel?"

How do you feel? Xue Cheng's hand holding the wine glass paused slightly.

Mountains of corpses and seas of blood seemed to flash before my eyes again, the sounds of iron horses and swords rang in my ears, and... the desperate cries in Youzhou City.

He was silent for a long time, and finally let out a long sigh: "When I was a general, I only cared about winning or losing, no matter the cost. Now I am old, and my heart has softened."

"Oh?" the owner filled his glass. "Why are you so soft-hearted?"

Xue Cheng took the wine glass and drank it all in one gulp. The wine seemed to be particularly burning in his throat today.

"The sin of killing is too serious and there will be retribution." His voice was hoarse and full of desolation as if he had seen through the world.

The shopkeeper nodded, his tone calm, but like a needle, it unexpectedly pierced into Xue Cheng's deepest nightmare: "Indeed, so many people died."

Xue Cheng was about to respond when he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, like a knife stabbing him! He groaned and spat out a mouthful of dark red blood on the table, which was shocking.

He suddenly looked up and looked at the shop owner opposite.

The owner was not panicked. He also picked up the wine in front of him and drank it calmly, with a trickle of black blood also flowing from his lips.

He looked at Xue Cheng with a complex expression, without hatred, only a sense of relief and calmness. "Your Majesty is now a Duke, and you have made unparalleled contributions to the country, and you are admired by the world. But I still want to ask you, Your Majesty, are you willing to avenge the murder of your parents?"

Xue Cheng endured the pain as if his internal organs were shattered and stared at the other person's face, but he could not find any trace in his memory.

"Of course the Duke doesn't recognize me," the shop owner drank another glass of poisoned wine, his face quickly turned pale, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"I... don't recognize you, Lord. You defended Youzhou to the death. You were a hero, and that was the right thing to do. But in defending the city, someone came to steal my food and beat and killed my parents..."

"The Duke's soldiers, without any reason, captured and killed my parents, who had begged me desperately for food and only wanted to protect their lives..."

He coughed violently, blood splattering. "I was six years old that year, hiding in a vat, watching helplessly... It's been twenty years... Duke, what do you say, should this vengeance... be avenged?"

Xue Cheng was stunned.

The tragic scene of Youzhou City instantly flooded into his mind: the rioters he had ordered to be suppressed, the blurred faces of his own soldiers who fell under their swords...

He thought he had a clear conscience because he had served his country and his people, but it turned out that he had already owed blood debts that were engraved in the bones and blood of others and had not been erased for twenty years.

He suddenly burst into laughter, a sad and sorrowful laugh, tinged with tears of blood: "It's due! It's due! It's me, Xue Cheng, who has failed you! I've failed the countless people in Youzhou City who died in vain!"

Seeing him like this, the shop owner nodded, his breath already very weak: "Don't worry, Duke. If you die, I will follow you... I am not a person who covets life."

"You have made great contributions to the country. If I kill you, I will be...deserving of death..."

"My parents and I are ordinary people. Our lives are worthless and we cannot afford to pay for yours. I am sorry for you. I killed you... I deserve to go to the eighteenth level of hell... I accept it, but I still want to kill you..."

"My poor parents never had a single day of happiness. If I don't avenge them, I'd be unworthy of being their son..."

"Retribution... This is retribution..." Xue Cheng's laughter gradually subsided, tears streamed down his face, but his heart calmed down, as if a huge rock that had been hanging for twenty years had finally fallen to the ground.

Xue Cheng should have died long ago, instead of enjoying so many years of glory before dying.

How many times has he come to this store in the past three years?

How many times had the shopkeeper had the chance to kill him? Hundreds, but he never did.

To this day, he is already very old, while he was still young, and he actually accompanied him, and he still has the blood and tears of his parents on his hands.

He, Xue Cheng, should have died long ago! Instead of losing his life today!

He stretched out his trembling fingers, dipped them in the warm blood on the table, and wrote word by word with difficulty: I die voluntarily. Please, Your Majesty, do not blame others. Xue Cheng's last words.

The pen fell and the breath died.

The shop owner opposite him had already slumped over the table, silent.

In just a moment, the inside and outside of the wine shop were in chaos.

By the time the news reached the palace, the bodies of Xue Cheng and the shop owner, along with the bloodstained table, had been sent to the emperor.

After Ning Lingyi heard the entire story, she stood in the hall for a long time, speechless. Her gaze fell on the bloody words, and each word seemed to carry a thousand-pound weight, weighing her down and making her breathless.

It turns out that the blood feud is so deep and so heavy.

No one was spared.

After a long time, she slowly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened them again, she was already making an imperial decision.

"Issue the decree. Zhenguogong Xue Cheng, having reached old age, passed away peacefully today. He shall be posthumously named Wu Mu and enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple to honor his unparalleled achievements and to be immortalized in history."

She glanced at the shop owner's body and added, "Give him a proper burial and I won't hold you responsible."

When the decree was issued, the whole country was in mourning.

The historical books are meticulous and only record that Duke Xue Chenggong achieved fame, died of old age, and was honored.

Only the few people who saw the blood words with their own eyes that night and the emperor sitting high in the Mingtang understood in their hearts that the old veteran who was burdened with glorious military achievements and countless blood debts had finally repaid the blood debt on a snowy night in Youzhou twenty years ago in such a tragic way.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Merits and faults, sins and punishments, all were scattered in the wind along with that cup of poisoned wine.