He was the second person who had stood up to protect her, after Zhan Haoting.
"Zhan Haoting," she murmured in her heart, "you must hold on. As long as you survive, I will set your broken legs right for you when the time comes; I will get back every bit of the humiliation you have suffered. And those people who are stepping on us now..."
She lifted her eyes to look at the sky.
"Just you wait. I will make them pay a hundredfold."
"Zhan Haochen, you really know how to walk right into a trap," Zhao Chongan chuckled, waving his hand, "Seize him as well."
Madam Zhan broke into sobs. "Silly child, why did you come back? You should have fled the moment you got the news from the Academy."
Zhan Haochen said not a word, letting the officers strip off his clothes and bind his hands tightly with ropes.
Every member of the Zhan family was herded onto the prison carts.
Along the way, crowds of common people gathered to watch, sighing in pity as they witnessed the once-glamorous royal mansion end up in such a dire state.
Old Madam Zhan, her face streaked with tears, cried out, "My Zhan family's century-old foundation has been destroyed in a single day..."
Cheng Yao had her arms bound with thick hemp ropes. Her thin clothes were covered in mud and bloodstains, and her hair stuck to her sweat-damp cheeks.
Her lips were pale, her eyelashes lowered, and she looked just like a timid, weak woman who had been scared out of her wits. She let the soldiers shove and curse at her, and even her staggering steps looked utterly authentic.
"Madam, you have to pull yourself together."
She raised her eyes and saw Xiao Fu, who was being escorted onto a prison cart. The old man's white hair was disheveled, his cheeks were swollen and bruised from beatings, and he nodded at her firmly through his tears.
The prison carts jolted forward. The wheels rolled over crushed stones, shaking the occupants to their very bones.
The setting sun stretched the shadows of the prison carts long and thin, like chains leading straight to hell.
...
Inside the Dragon Throne Hall, it was so quiet that a pin dropping could be heard. The emperor was reading documents carefully, but his expression grew darker and darker by the minute.
Zhou Yan and Zhao Chongan were kneeling on the ground, cold sweat dripping off them, not daring to even breathe loudly.
All the property seized from the Zhan family had been recorded in the registers. But no one could have imagined that the grand royal mansion was nothing but an empty shell.
There were only a few valuables in the storerooms, the accounts showed that expenses had long exceeded income, and the War King had already sold off many of his properties to make up the difference.
Old Madam Zhan, who managed the household, was so foolish that she was incapable of transferring assets or falsifying accounts. This made it clear that the War King's Mansion truly had no wealth to loot.
But the most critical problem was that the evidence they had arranged in the secret chamber, which proved the War King was colluding with foreign enemies and plotting a rebellion, had vanished into thin air!
That meant there was a traitor among them!
The entire mansion had been in total chaos during the confiscation. How someone could have moved the evidence right under their noses without a trace was a question they had no time to figure out, nor did they dare to.
"Useless fools!"
The emperor smashed the documents onto the floor, his rage erupting like a volcano. He stepped forward and started kicking the two of them as hard as he could.
"You two ruined all my plans, you idiots!"
Without that evidence, how was he supposed to deal with Zhan Haoting?
If he spared Zhan Haoting, it would be like letting a tiger go free, only for it to cause trouble later. But if he executed him, he would have no justifiable reason to do so.
No matter how the emperor punched and kicked them, the two of them gritted their teeth and did not utter a single sound.
When the emperor had finished venting his anger, Zhao Chongan spoke tremblingly, "Your Majesty, a crafty hare has three burrows. That Zhan Haoting must have made many arrangements in advance. But no matter how cunning he is, as long as he dies on the road to exile, everything he has planned will be for nothing."
The emperor glanced at him sideways, stormy emotions swirling in his eyes. Zhao Chongan knew at once that the emperor had taken his advice, and he had narrowly saved his own life.
...
The Ministry of Justice.
Cold iron chains locked through the bones of Zhan Haoting's shoulder blades, and steel whips rained down hard on his back one after another.
The veins on his forehead bulged, and he gritted his teeth to hold on. Finally, the sweet taste of blood rose in his throat, and he spat a mouthful of blood onto the brick floor.
Immediately after, sticks and clubs fell like rain, and the crisp sounds of bones breaking were clearly audible.
At first, he could still suppress his groans and hold his back straight, but by the time the fifty heavy strokes were finished, he was covered in blood and wounds all over, collapsed on the ground like a broken puppet, with only the faint rise and fall of his chest showing he was still barely alive. His consciousness was fading fast.
Two imperial guards dragged him away by the chains. His head knocked against the stone steps weakly, leaving a winding trail of blood, as he was dragged toward the exile camp.
All 150 members of the Zhan family, excluding their servants, were locked in the great prison.
At the very beginning, everyone had been shouting insults at Zhan Haoting, calling him a jinx, a greedy and stupid man who had brought ruin to the entire clan.
But they were only wearing single layers of clothing, had not a drop of water to drink for a whole day, and were cold and starving. Soon, they no longer had the strength to curse, nor did they want to.
The last glimmer of the sunset faded away, and night fell over the land.
The iron cell door was kicked open with a clang. Zhan Haoting, covered all over in blood, was dragged inside.
Thick blood was dripping down from his hairline and the corners of his mouth, smearing most of his face. His hands and feet were bent at unnatural angles, and the wounds oozing with blood were still seeping out fresh streaks of red.
He was tossed into the neighboring cell like a tattered rag. The entire prison fell silent for a moment, then erupted into chaos.
"Zhan Haoting has been beaten to a pulp!"
"It's over. Our Zhan family is completely done for."
"He alone is responsible for what he did. If he dies, will we not have to go into exile?"
The collapse of the family's main pillar plunged all the Zhan family members into utter despair.
Lady Zhan threw herself at the bars, her hands clutching the cold iron bars so tightly her knuckles turned white. Tears mixed with snot streamed down her face as she wailed, "My son! What have they done to you? This is a crime, a terrible sin!"
She stretched her hands desperately outward, trying to get a look at Zhan Haoting, until she slumped to the ground, crying so hard she nearly lost consciousness.
Zhan Haochen's chest heaved violently. He clenched his fists and smashed them hard against the cell wall, his knuckles scraping white, his voice hoarse with rage. "You beasts! I'll fight you all!"
But the cell door was locked tight. He could only watch Zhan Haoting lying motionless on the ground, the red bloodshot lines in his eyes almost bursting.
"Brother! Brother!"
Zhan Qingrou was shaking all over uncontrollably. She bit her lip so hard it nearly broke, but tears still fell like broken beads, splattering on the bars. She stretched out a trembling hand. "Brother, wake up... look at me..."
Cheng Yao did not make a sound. Her gaze was glued to the man's bloodied, mangled body, and every single wound on him felt like a stab right to her heart.
You damned emperor, just you wait.
By midnight, the only sounds left in the prison were the occasional soft clinks of the iron locks and the sounds of people sobbing. Most of the people had curled up in the corners and fallen into a deep sleep, even the guards leaning against the walls dozing off.
Zhan Haoting was locked alone in a large cell, with no one to tend to him, no medicine to treat his wounds, his life hanging by a thread.
Cheng Yao held her breath, and teleported right into his cell.
She crouched down, trembling as she reached out her hand. The moment her fingertips touched his icy cheek, she flinched back — under the blood-caked skin, his body temperature was frighteningly low. She bit her lip, then brought her fingertips to his lips, letting two drops of spiritual spring water drip into his cracked, dry lips.
The moment the spiritual spring water slid down his throat, Zhan Haoting's faint breathing suddenly grew heavier, and his eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly.
The steel plate she had placed under his clothes earlier was long gone. His outer robe had been torn to tatters by the whips, and the inner clothing underneath was also damaged, but luckily he was still wearing a bulletproof vest beneath everything, which had softened some of the blows.
He had multiple fractures and cracked bones all over his body. The most life-threatening injury was two broken ribs that had pierced into his heart and lungs. Without treatment, he would not make it through the night.
Cheng Yao's heart ached so much she could barely bear it. She dropped more of the spiritual spring water onto the area where his broken ribs were.
