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Editor & Proofreader:

Nene Yashiro

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Burning Bridges

In the dark, damp dungeon, rats, cockroaches, and cries of despair were everywhere. In this hell-like place, the torture devices hanging on the racks constantly reminded the prisoners that those grotesque tools could be used on them at any moment.

In the deepest part of the dungeon lay a very special prisoner. No one disturbed him, and no one believed he had much time left.

Gu Zhenguan sat quietly in a corner, his gaze fixed on a sliver of sunlight filtering in from above. He squinted, savoring his daily glimpse of light. To him, the nightmare wasn’t going from Marquis to prisoner, nor was it the imminent death or the loss of wealth and honor.

He kept pondering, apart from the scars on his body, what else could that person possibly take from him now?

Demotion, loss of titles, house arrest, confiscation of his family’s assets, and now he had become a prisoner awaiting execution—what more could that person impose on him?

“Gu Zhenguan, time for questioning!”

As usual, he was tied to the iron pillar, facing a red-hot iron disk, surrounded by various torture instruments waiting for him. The same questions, repeated every day. He was beyond weary.

“Gu Zhenguan, Did you cohort with the Third Prince to assassinate the Emperor and seize the throne?”

“Gu Zhenguan, your accomplices have already confessed. Shen Lin has identified you as the mastermind. What else do you have to admit?”

“Gu Zhenguan, what is your relationship with the Third Prince? What did you do to aid his coup? We’ve found letters of correspondence between your family and the Third Prince. You’d better come clean!”

“Gu Zhenguan, the emperor has been incredibly gracious to you, granting you titles and supporting your family. Will you really resist to the end? If you confess your treason and name your accomplices, the emperor may show leniency due to your past service!”

Frustrated that no answers were forthcoming, the interrogator angrily signaled the guards to start the torture.

The sound of the whip cracking and hitting flesh echoed through the interrogation room, while the prisoners in the dungeon no longer banged on their locks to plead for justice. Instead, they sat frozen in terror, hugging their knees.

“Use the iron disk, let’s see if he talks then!”

*Sizzle!* The sound of burning flesh filled the dark room, and the smell of charred meat lingered in the air, as the dim oil lamp dripped wax tears.

Gu Zhenguan was tossed back into his cell like trash. His body was now filled with wounds, and he can no longer stand for all of his strength has left him.

“Brother, just confess already. This place is hell on earth. If you confess, they might at least give you a whole corpse, and you won’t have to endure this daily torment anymore,” said by a fellow prisoner, unable to bear watching any longer.

Gu Zhenguan, who had trained in martial arts from a young age, barely clung to life after enduring the torture. He glanced at the gaunt, inhuman figure beside him and managed a faint, cold smile.

“No need. I just want to see how far he could go.”

The kind-hearted prisoner shook his head and crouched back down. Even though he had confessed his crimes, he will still not be free. He would live out the rest of his days here.

In the resplendent palace, within the Imperial Study, the emperor was reviewing memorials, while the man kneeling before him was sweating profusely.

“He still won’t open his mouth?”

The man on the floor trembled. “No, he hasn’t said a word.”

The young emperor cast a cold glance at him, then concealed his emotions and calmly signed another document. “Give him the death sentence.”

Official Zheng, drenched in cold sweat, wiped his brow nervously. “If he still refuses, may I…?”

“Make your own decision. There’s no need to report back to me,” the emperor replied without looking up, issuing the command as the attendant eunuch by his side trembled.

Back in the dungeon, Gu Zhenguan saw the same tools laid out before him. A mocking smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he declared, “I demand to see the emperor, or I will not die willingly!”

“Gu Zhenguan, do you still think you’re that favored marquis?^[1] Marquis- a nobleman of high rank You’re nothing more than a prisoner lower than an insect now. The emperor is too busy to deal with someone as insignificant as you!” scoffed Official Zheng, signaling the guards to bring the tray of execution tools closer.

Using the last of his strength, Gu Zhenguan knocked the tray aside with a flick of his sleeve, stubbornly standing to face his captors.

Official Zheng sneered and ordered the guards, “Take him to the afterlife!”

The guards quickly picked up a white silk cord, and two of them held Gu Zhenguan down while another guard looped the cord around his neck with a vicious grin.

Gu Zhenguan, weakened from days of torture, all of his strength has left him. Even though his instincts urged him to struggle, the guards were far too strong. They strangled him until he could barely breathe, his bloodshot eyes were fixed on Official Zheng, who stood by, watching like a spectator.

“Lord Gu, may you have a smooth journey to the afterlife. Don’t come back as a ghost to seek revenge. This is the emperor’s decree—you were always destined to die,” Official Zheng taunted, laughing as Gu Zhenguan’s resistance weakened. “This is the price of those who outshine their ruler. In your next life, learn to know your place!”

As Gu Zhenguan’s life withered away, he seemed to see the image of the once-neglected, bullied young prince from years ago, glaring at him with guarded eyes, saying, “Gu Zhenguan, you’re just a bit luckier than me. Just wait, one day I’ll crush you under my feet!”

Han Zhen, is that seat really so good? Is it truly worth it?

“Milord, he’s dead!”

Official Zheng kicked the body a few times to ensure it was lifeless. Satisfied, he nodded, instructed the guards to take care of the corpse, and turned to leave the cell. However, the moment he stepped outside, he immediately dropped to his knees.

That flash of imperial yellow stood out sharply in the dim, oppressive place. The figure stood with hands clasped behind his back, silently staring at the crumpled white form on the ground.

“Your Majesty!”