Having also advanced into the Gale Army, Willow and Door Plank were naturally members of He Lingchuan's core squad. Hu Min's squad had suffered casualties during their previous mission, and his squad leader had been reassigned elsewhere, so he simply brought himself over to join He Lingchuan—
Dragging A'luo along with him as well.
The Gale Army's combat organization was quite flexible. A squad consisted of five to ten members, decided at the squad leader's discretion, and temporary hands could be pulled in as needed.
Thus, their roster settled down for the time being. There were actually only three new recruits, and all of them had to carry out a mission today.
He Lingchuan soon rendezvoused with Willow and Door Plank, and they set off for the prison under orders.
Panlong City had three major prisons. The highest-security and most strictly guarded of them sat in the north of the city, not far from the North Gate, and was called "Tiger's Maw." Tiger's Maw Prison was their destination today. Security here was extraordinarily tight; not only did one have to present a State Token, but the relevant paperwork had to be thoroughly inspected as well.
The secret order He Lingchuan handed over contained only two lines:
"Prisoner Number Twenty-Seven. Execute Resolution Number One."
It was signed by Vice Commander Zhao Xianhe and bore his official seal.
To be frank, He Lingchuan had been taken aback when he saw who issued the secret order.
Zhao Xianhe. Not long ago, Skinny had gossiped that this lord Vice Commander hadn't shown his face in a long time, and even the routine inspections at the Martial Review Hall were being handled by Wen Daolun on his behalf, making people suspect he was embroiled in some major affair.
He hadn't expected his very first mission after becoming a full-fledged soldier to be issued by this Vice Commander.
Did that mean Zhao Xianhe was fine now?
The guard took the secret order, scrutinizing every single character before saying, "Go wait outside the gates."
He Lingchuan and the other two waited outside for over a quarter of an hour before three carriages rolled out of the prison. Every carriage looked identical—two-horse wooden box carts bearing no markings whatsoever. Their gray hoods were pulled tight, preventing anyone outside from seeing within.
In truth, they looked no different from the carriages running all over the streets—utterly ordinary, so plain that even after looking at them several times, one might not remember their appearance.
Then yet another carriage emerged. A prison guard said to He Lingchuan, "It's your turn. Get up."
He Lingchuan and Door Plank tied their mounts behind the carriage and leaped onto the front bench. Willow lifted the curtain and slipped into the carriage interior, and the carriage slowly started rolling.
They departed Panlong City through the North Gate, heading according to instructions toward the God-Descending Platform on the northwestern plateau.
The God-Descending Day had already passed, and the God-Descending Platform had once again become deserted. If it were inside Panlong City, people might still visit from time to time to pay their respects, but tens of li north of the city, the only permanent fixtures here were the mountain winds and dense woods.
To the living, making a livelihood was always of paramount importance.
The three of them remained silent and spoke not a word throughout the journey, which was also a requirement from above. Consequently, He Lingchuan had no idea what was inside the carriage. As long as Willow didn't make a sound, everything within was secure.
He could only hear an occasional clank from inside, like metal colliding.
Upon reaching the God-Descending Platform, the wind gradually picked up.
The plateau was vast and empty; if anyone approached, they would be spotted at a glance.
Door Plank pulled back the cloth curtain behind them, and Willow hopped down from the carriage leading someone along.
This person's hands and feet were both bound in heavy chains, making every step exceptionally labored and loud.
The metallic sounds He Lingchuan had heard had likely come from this.
Dark red runes circulated along the chains, making them nearly impossible to open without the proper method.
The person also wore a black hood over his head—he could see no one, and no one could see him.
Only then did He Lingchuan take out the second secret order.
It was a small jasper-green bamboo cylinder sealed with wax. He Lingchuan already knew by now that this was the exclusive packaging for Beijia Kingdom chewing tobacco.
He truly couldn't comprehend the sense of humor among Panlong City's upper echelon. Still, a container holding a secret order certainly didn't need to be conspicuous.
He tore off the wax seal and tipped out a slip of paper and a small scroll from inside.
Three heads and six eyes crowded together to look. On the paper slip were only eight simple words written in red:
*Kneel at the God-Descending Pillar. Execute on the spot!*
Their very first mission after becoming official soldiers was actually a secret execution of a convict?
This was no joke, for at the bottom of the slip were Zhao Xianhe's signature and seal once again.
The other scroll was a portrait meant for cross-referencing the prisoner's appearance to ensure no mistake was made.
He Lingchuan looked up at the God-Descending Pillar.
It thrust straight toward the heavens, immaculate and dust-free just as before.
Door Plank possessed great strength. He hauled the man and his chains together before the God-Descending Pillar and kicked the back of his knees.
With a thud, the prisoner dropped to his knees facing the pillar.
Door Plank looked toward He Lingchuan. "Broken Saber?"
He Lingchuan nodded, and Door Plank ripped off the prisoner's black hood with a swift pull.
It was a man of twenty-four or twenty-five, his face covered in stubble and his eyes bloodshot. Though his clothes were filthy, the fabric was fine and luxurious—an expensive rarity unobtainable by ordinary civilians in Panlong City.
Willow compared the portrait with the prisoner. Once she verified there was no error, she said, "Give him a quick end."
Hearing this, the prisoner shook his head madly, letting out muffled, frantic cries as though screaming at the top of his lungs.
With a pop, the wooden gag in his mouth dropped out.
"You're executing the wrong person!" the man roared. "I am Zhao Rong! My father is Vice Commander Zhao Xianhe!"
All three were startled.
This prisoner was actually Zhao Xianhe's son?
"This is a colossal misunderstanding! Tiger's Maw Prison got it wrong!" Zhao Rong seized the limited time, speaking in a frantic rush. "Don't kill me! Go pass a word to Lord Zhao first—he can clear up this misunderstanding! It'll only take you half a day, and I promise every one of you will get a Golden House afterward!"
In Panlong City, luxury estates were divided into four tiers: Emerald, Jade, Crimson, and Gold. The introductory luxury residence was the Golden House, and it was also the only category of housing in the city that could be freely bought and sold.
One could easily imagine its price.
Willow held the secret order before his eyes. "No need to send word. This is Lord Zhao's own written order."
Zhao Rong took a look, and his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. His body trembled uncontrollably.
"No, it can't be, impossible!"
Willow unfurled the portrait before him as well. "If this isn't you, could it be your twin brother?"
Truth be told, the portrait bore a striking resemblance to Zhao Rong, capturing his essence perfectly so that anyone could identify him at a glance.
He Lingchuan clamped a hand onto the back of his neck, forcing his head down toward the God-Descending Pillar.
"Not much time left. Repent properly."
What did the secret order mean by demanding the prisoner kneel before the pillar? Naturally, it meant he had to repent. Otherwise, they could have just found any random spot to chop off his head—why bother sending him to the God-Descending Platform?
His grip was applied with deliberate technique; pressing firmly on the major tendon behind the neck numbed the prisoner completely, leaving only his mouth able to move.
"My father would never want me dead!" He broke down completely, screaming hysterically. "Someone is trying to frame me! Someone is trying to harm Lord Zhao! Believe me, don't kill me..."
He still wanted to struggle, yet deep down he knew his end had come. He squirmed left and right, stubbornly refusing to kneel properly.
Willow suddenly said, "He pissed himself."
The other two looked down; the prisoner's trousers were indeed soaked.
All three were somewhat speechless. How could Lord Zhao's son be such a coward?
Zhao Rong shrieked again, "All the city's weapons and armor are supplied by my father, and I was the one who obtained the formula for the Baibin spears from Fuhe Fort! Sons pay their fathers' debts, and sons enjoy their fathers' merits! We have rendered toilsome service and achieved great merit—what's wrong with enjoying a little luxury?! Think of how much my father and I have done for Panlong City! Without us, how could anyone in this city be living such good lives today!" Spittle flew from his mouth, and he even twisted his head around, trying to bite He Lingchuan's hand. "You petty scoundrels, you ungrateful wretches! I curse every one of you to die a horrible death!"
The terror of death had completely engulfed him, and he vomited out everything festering in his gut.
"Toilsome service and great merit?" He Lingchuan suddenly grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face hard against the pillar. "*This one right here* is the one who truly achieved great merit!"
"Do those merits belong to you? Weren't they fought and paid for by the four hundred thousand heroic martyrs resting forever in the wilderness?!"
"What makes you and your father so special? Just because you survived to the end, you dare claim all the credit for yourselves?!"
With every sentence He Lingchuan spoke, he smashed the man's head against the pillar once.
Each word was delivered without haste, but the force of every impact against the pillar grew heavier than the last.
Zhao Rong's face was battered bloody, his screams ringing out repeatedly.
Willow and Door Plank exchanged a glance. Hearing those words made their blood boil and brought a stinging warmth to their eyes and noses, yet they were equally shaken by the ruthlessness and fury behind them.
Broken Saber had never lost his temper like this.
"Should we..." Willow started to ask, but He Lingchuan casually drew his blade and thrust it through Zhao Rong's back, piercing his heart.
Fusheng was far too sharp. Halfway through his incoherent blathering, Zhao Rong only realized what had happened when a gleaming length of blade emerged from his chest, leaving him frozen in shock.
He Lingchuan gripped the hilt and twisted to the left. Zhao Rong tried to say something, but blood choked his throat.
Door Plank counted two silent beats, and the prisoner breathed his last.
He Lingchuan withdrew the long saber and remarked indifferently, "He wasn't going to repent properly anyway." There was no point wasting more time.
He wiped the blood clean on the back of the prisoner's vest and sheathed his blade.
Door Plank shrugged. "You even left him an intact corpse."
"We have no personal grudge against him." A swift, clean death was his greatest mercy.
The execution was complete without any mishaps. The three of them carried the body back into the carriage. He Lingchuan reminded the other two, "Not a word of this gets out. Take it to your graves."
Both Door Plank and Willow replied, "We understand."
Only then did the squad drive the carriage slowly down the mountain.
Someone was already waiting at the foot of the slope—a man in his fifties with graying hair, craning his neck as far as it would go.
He Lingchuan's squad untied their own mounts, handed the carriage over to them, and took their leave.
These people were likely from the Zhao family, for they hadn't walked more than a few paces before weeping broke out behind them.
Willow let out a soft sigh.
Soon, however, the gray-haired old man spurred his horse and caught up to them, blocking their path and demanding, "Why is our young master's face covered in blood, with wounds on his forehead?! Did you people do something to him..."
Zhao Rong's forehead had swollen so terribly that it was impossible to conceal.
He Lingchuan said calmly, "Young Master Zhao knelt before the God-Descending Pillar and knocked his head repeatedly against it, weeping bitter tears. I believe his repentance was profound."
The old man flew into a rage. "Y-You dare subject him to torture!"
"We carried out Lord Zhao's orders strictly and meticulously." He Lingchuan unfolded Zhao Xianhe's slip of paper before him, his tone chillingly grim. "If you have any objections, feel free to appeal to General Red."
***
Mission accomplished.
On both sides of the return path, wild flowers blossomed across the hillsides.
Bees flew and butterflies fluttered amid the gentle breeze—a tranquil and peaceful world. In a nearby hamlet not far away, children played in the fields, their faces radiating pure innocence.
He Lingchuan gazed at the riot of colors, lost in thought.
For years, someone had been secretly mining gold in the Chifeng mine tunnels, and Headman Hu had chosen to conceal it;
The one in charge of Panlong City's mountains, rivers, and mineral resources was Vice Commander Zhao Xianhe;
Not long ago, Zhao Xianhe had seemingly vanished without a trace;
Today, Lord Zhao had suddenly sent a secret order commanding that his own son be brought to the God-Descending Pillar and executed on the spot.
Zhao Rong's death had not even undergone an open trial or formal sentencing before they secretly put him to death.
Chapter 369