Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Dong Maolin's eyes were covered with an opaque black cloth, and he could only hear the sound of water droplets falling around him, one after another, in a very regular rhythm.
He felt the voice was somewhat familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he had heard it before.
After Song Ting left in a fit of rage that day, he stayed in the dark death row cell for an unknown period of time.
So long that Dong Maolin even began to wonder if the ruthless commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard intended to just leave him there.
From then on, they ignored him completely, letting him cry out to heaven and earth in vain, driving him to madness.
In fact, he was indeed not far from going mad. With no food or water, his cursing and pleading received no response.
Eventually, he could neither curse nor beg, so he simply closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.
However, today, someone came to the death row. Dong Maolin recognized him. The one in the lead was one of Song Ting's most capable guards, the White Impermanence from the Black and White Impermanence, named Xiao Wu.
Without saying a word, the man named Xiao Wu blindfolded him with a black cloth, tied his hands behind his back, and then dragged him into a carriage.
Logically, if one cannot see, one's other senses should become more acute, but Dong Maolin was already in a semi-conscious state at that time and had no way of perceiving how long the carriage had been traveling.
In his dazed state, he was doused with a bucket of cold water, which completely sobered him up.
Then he was dragged off the carriage and left here, shivering with cold as he listened to the sound of dripping water.
After an unknown amount of time, just when Dong Maolin thought he had been banished here and was completely helpless, the door creaked open and very light footsteps entered.
Dong Maolin suddenly turned around and stared intently ahead in the darkness. Although he couldn't see anything, he knew who was coming.
“Commander,” Dong Maolin said.
Having not been exposed to water or spoken for so long, his voice sounded like something rubbing against rough tree bark; he himself could hardly recognize it as his own voice.
Song Ting stood close to Dong Maolin, bowing slightly: "Lord Dong, the Turks have retreated, and the rebels have been completely wiped out by General Gu."
His voice was low and deep, yet each word was like a deadly blade, shattering Dong Maolin's soul and spirit.
I had actually anticipated this outcome, but what I expected and what I actually heard were completely different.
Everything he painstakingly built turned into a joke; he was manipulated from beginning to end.
Dong Maolin's eyes were still covered, and he could only make out the sounds around him. After saying that, Song Ting walked to the side, seemed to pull up a chair, and sat down.
He turned around following the man's voice, his heart filled with grief and indignation, yet his face remained defiant, unwilling to back down.
"So what? The Dayan clan is surnamed Chu. Whether they win or lose seems to have nothing to do with you, sir. I never knew you were so considerate and loving towards the people."
"Sir, you have such excellent methods. I wonder if you have found that scoundrel Chu Huaixu yet?"
These words were tantamount to courting death, and Song Ting's face had turned extremely gloomy.
Xiao Wu stood to the side, not daring to utter a sound.
He had no doubt that if that old geezer Dong Maolin dared to say another word, he would be killed on the spot.
During this period, because of that person's matter, everyone from the imperial court to the Song family was trembling with fear and walking on thin ice, for fear of accidentally breaking a taboo.
This guy surnamed Dong is really something, he's practically begging to die.
But if you want to die, don't drag them down with you.
However, Xiao Wu guessed wrong. The man who was so eager to kill and eat people just a second ago had completely suppressed his emotions and said calmly, "Take off the black cloth covering Lord Dong's eyes."
The moment the black cloth was removed, Dong Maolin instinctively reached out to shield his eyes. His long period of living in complete darkness made it difficult for him to adapt to the light.
When the blinding white light faded, Dong Maolin realized that he was standing in the study of the Dong family mansion.
And that dripping sound was indeed the sound of water dripping—it was the water clock he had placed next to the desk.
Song Ting stood in front of the antique shelf with his back to him, dressed in a black python robe, his right hand resting on a long-necked celadon vase.
The bottle is plain-colored with no patterns and the workmanship is very rough, as if it was made casually by a porcelain maker without any care.
But Dong Maolin's expression immediately changed drastically—"What, what are you going to do?!"
This was a birthday gift from Yunxi when he was twelve years old; it was made by Yunxi himself.
Once what's under the vase is discovered, his secret, hidden for five years, will be completely exposed.
If his complexion was merely pale and unsightly before, at this moment it was closer to the ashen look of a dead person.
In fact, his heart was truly dead beyond any doubt at that moment.
Song Ting glanced at it expressionlessly, then gently pushed it with his palm. As he moved, the vase slowly began to rotate, making a creaking sound.
After three laps, the display shelf shook, followed by an even louder creak. The display shelf suddenly receded, pressing against the wall behind it, and where it had been, a cellar large enough to fit a person was now revealed!
Dong Maolin stared intently at the cellar, his body trembling uncontrollably, whether from the cold or from fear, he couldn't tell.
Finally, his legs gave way and he fell to the ground with a thud.
Song Ting glanced at Dong Maolin, who was lying on the ground like a rag doll, and gave Xiao Wu a look: "Help Lord Dong up."
The cellar was connected by a dozen or so iron staircases. It was usually pitch black, and it was hard to tell whether there were any candles lit. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
Moreover, the further down you climb, the colder it gets, as if a cold wind is blowing straight at you from somewhere, creating an eerie and unsettling atmosphere.
Even Xiao Wu, who had killed countless people, got goosebumps from the chill.
Xiao Wu took out a tinderbox and lit the two candles on the wall.
The candlelight was very limited, but enough to illuminate what was inside the cellar—in the very center of the cellar, there was a memorial tablet.
All of Dong Maolin's desires, schemes, loves, and hates are contained here.
Song Ting knew that Dong Maolin had hidden something in the cellar, but he never found out exactly what it was.
It wasn't until Dong Maolin mentioned Dong Yunxi on the day he stormed the palace to assassinate him that he began to have a vague suspicion.
Dong Yunxi was a sinner, and Dong Maolin dared not openly worship him. He could only hide his memorial tablet in this dark and sunless underground, just as Song Ting hid Chu Huaixu's eternal lamp in the dark Buddhist hall of Baima Temple.
Perhaps due to poor air circulation in the cellar, one of the candles went out without warning. Xiao Wu tried to light it several times with a tinderbox, but couldn't manage it, making the cellar even darker and more gloomy.
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