Chapter Sixty-Three: Punishment

Deep within the magistrate's office lies the "Blackwater Prison," a facility specifically for the most serious offenders. Here, all natural light is cut off, save for a few ever-burning oil lamps on the walls, their flickering blue flames carving eerie shadows into the massive, rough stone walls. The air is thick with the lingering stench of blood, decay, and despair.

Prince Li Chong of Ruyang, once a powerful prince whose every move shook the capital, was now firmly bound to the cold stone wall by thick, black iron chains. His magnificent princely robes had been stripped away, leaving only a white undergarment stained with dirt and blood. His hair was disheveled, and his face bore several fresh bruises—marks "accidentally" left by the imperial guards when he was "invited" here. He was breathing heavily, not from his injuries, but from the overwhelming rage and disbelief of being utterly humiliated and reduced to a prisoner.

"Insolence! You bunch of lackeys! Are you blind?! I am the Prince of Ruyang! A member of the imperial family! How dare you treat me like this?! Your Majesty! I demand to see Your Majesty! This is a frame-up! This is treason!" He roared, his voice echoing in the empty, gloomy prison, only producing hollow echoes that sounded particularly pathetic and laughable. The only response was the cold scraping of chains and the silent, stone-like backs of the guards outside the prison door, their expressions undisguised contempt.

The heavy iron gate was slowly pulled open, emitting a sickening metallic scraping sound. In the dim light, a figure in black stepped in first. It wasn't the Empress, but Mu Lian. She hadn't changed out of her night clothes, which were stained with night dew and dust. The tear tracks on her face had dried, leaving only cold marks and eyes that burned with hellfire. She walked in step by step, her footsteps echoing clearly in the deathly silence of the prison, like a death knell tolling on people's hearts.

Behind her followed the three chief judges, their faces expressionless, like judges from the underworld. Finally, two tall, imposing magistrates from the judiciary escorted a prisoner tortured beyond recognition, his eyes glazed over—none other than the trusted steward of the Prince of Ruyang's former secret communications unit.

The roar of Prince Li Chong of Ruyang came to an abrupt halt. When he saw that the person who walked in first was Mu Lian, his face, which had been twisted with rage, instantly became incredibly ferocious, and his eyes shot out a deep-seated resentment that almost turned into tangible flames to devour her.

"It's you?! Mu Lian! You vile woman! Remnant of the Mu family! It really was you! You framed me!" He struggled frantically, the chains rattling, wanting nothing more than to pounce on Mu Lian and tear her to pieces. "Where is His Majesty?! I demand to see His Majesty! I want to expose the true face of this vixen!"

Mu Lian stopped a few steps away from him. She didn't even look at Li Chong's crazed face. Her gaze calmly swept over the dim blue light, over the dried dark brown bloodstains on the wall, and finally, slowly, as if looking at a piece of dirty garbage, landed on Li Chong.

That gaze was cold, lifeless, carrying a condescending, piercing contempt. There was no anger, no hatred, only the cold, settled dust of someone utterly crushed.

“Your Highness,” her voice was unusually calm, eerily calm, flowing like a cold spring in the gloomy dungeon, “Save your energy. His Majesty is not coming.”

"You're talking nonsense!" Li Chong's eyes widened in fury. "I am a prince! I am His Majesty's elder brother! Without His Majesty's decree, who dares to touch me?!"

"Imperial decree?" Mu Lian's lips curled into a faint, cold smile, devoid of any warmth, only filled with endless mockery. "Your Highness, the irrefutable evidence of your treason is laid out right here in the Zichen Palace. His Majesty already knows all of your crimes: colluding with the Southern Frontier, leaking border defenses, hoarding the imperial robes and seal, forming cliques, and slaughtering the entire Mu family of 132 loyal members."

"You're talking nonsense! Slander! It's all slander!" Li Chong shouted hoarsely, but his voice carried a barely perceptible tremor and panic.

"Slander?" Mu Lian seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. She slightly turned her head and gestured to the former steward of the Prince's mansion behind her, who was being held captive like a rag doll. "Wang Fu, Your Highness's 'loyal servant,' you still recognize him, right? The copy of the secret letter you had him send to the special envoy in the Southern Frontier, and the instruction he personally wrote down when you ordered the 'dealing' of the Mu family... he confessed to everything." She paused, her gaze like an icicle, piercing Li Chong again. "Oh, right, and that portrait of my mother in the secret shrine in your study... Your Highness, 'To gain is my fortune, to lose is my fate,' what a fine phrase! The 132 lives of the Mu family, in your writing, are merely 'lost,' and 'my fate' is sealed?"

“The portrait…” Li Chong was struck hard, his face instantly turning ashen, his body swaying, and for the first time, his eyes revealed true, immense fear and disbelief. “You…you found it…” His most carefully hidden, most unspeakable secret, the source of his morbid obsession, had actually been unearthed!

"Your Highness," the presiding judge stepped forward, his voice like the scraping of rusty iron, cold and formulaic, "The joint trial by the three judicial departments has yielded irrefutable evidence. Prince Li Chong of Ruyang is guilty of treason, collusion with the enemy, usurpation of power, framing loyal officials, and the massacre of his entire family… unforgivable crimes! His Majesty's decree: the title of Prince of Ruyang is hereby stripped, and he is reduced to a commoner! His Princely residence is to be sealed off, and all his property confiscated! All those involved, regardless of kinship, shall be severely punished according to the law, without any leniency! Li Chong himself…" The presiding judge paused deliberately, his gaze fixed on a dead man, "...imprisoned in the Princely Residence's 'Reflection Hall,' not to be released without an imperial edict, and to be imprisoned for life! So be it!"

"Imprisonment...life imprisonment...?" Li Chong murmured, repeating these words as if he couldn't comprehend their meaning. Stripped of his princely title? Reduced to commoner status? Confiscated property? His entire faction wiped out? Life imprisonment?! This wasn't exile, this wasn't beheading; it was letting him live while stripping him of everything! Losing power, losing wealth, losing freedom, losing dignity! Locked in what was once his own palace like a dog, watching everything be taken from him, watching his name be forever tainted! This was a thousand times, ten thousand times more cruel than killing him!

"No—!!!" Li Chong suddenly let out a beast-like howl on the verge of death, struggling frantically with all his might. The black iron chains were straightened by his struggle, emitting a teeth-grinding groan! "Li Mengxi! You are so cruel! So vicious! Mu Lian! You wretched servant! I will haunt you even as a ghost! You wretched people of the Mu family! You will all die a horrible death! Ah—!!!" His roar was filled with desperate resentment, echoing wildly in the gloomy dungeon.

Mu Lian watched indifferently as he struggled and roared in vain, bound by iron chains, tears streaming down his face as he resembled a madman. That once arrogant face, which had treated human life like dirt, was now nothing but endless ugliness, fear, and madness.

The fire of revenge that had burned within her for countless days and nights, almost consuming her, finally...slowly, bit by bit, died out as she watched her enemy fall into an abyss more despairing than death. There was no expected ecstasy, no exhilarating satisfaction of revenge. Only a vast, cold, deathly silence, like a snow-covered wasteland.

She glanced one last time at the prisoner, who was cursing madly in despair, her eyes now devoid of emotion. Then, resolutely, she turned away, ignoring the hysterical screams behind her, and walked step by step out of the dark prison that symbolized the final judgment. The heavy iron doors slowly closed behind her, shutting out the hellish sights and sounds.

Outside, fine snowflakes began to fall, seemingly out of nowhere. The glistening snowflakes drifted down silently, covering the somber rooftops and cold palace paths of the imperial city, attempting to wash away the stench of blood and conspiracy that permeated the air. A thin, almost transparent layer of pale light had already appeared on the horizon…