Hot flashes

When the news spread, the entire city of Jiangling was in an uproar.

The Xie family came three times. The first time was to plead for mercy, the second time was to threaten, and the third time was a combination of pleading and threatening.

People from the Wang, Zhang, and Zhao families took turns visiting, using every trick in the book, from soft to hard.

Zhou Heng refused to see anyone.

The next morning, someone threw excrement at the entrance of the post station. Chen Shen was furious, his face turning ashen. Zhou Heng merely glanced at it and said, "Have someone clean it up."

At 9:00 AM, Zhou Heng went out.

The streets were ten times more crowded than usual. Both sides of the road were packed with onlookers, whispering and pointing. Some knew them, some didn't; some sympathized, some gloated.

Zhou Heng rode his horse through the crowd toward the market.

Chen Shen, accompanied by his bodyguards, stood guard on either side of him, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

The stage has already been set up at Caishikou.

On the stage, Zheng Mingyi was bound hand and foot and kneeling in the center. Behind him, eight other people were kneeling—his subordinates, his accomplices who killed, set fires, and silenced witnesses for him.

Each person had a death row inmate's name tag stuck around their neck; the words on the white paper were in black and white, a truly shocking sight.

Below the stage, a dense crowd of over a thousand people had gathered. There were ordinary people, merchants, scholars, and well-dressed scions of prominent families who stood at a distance to watch the spectacle.

Zhou Heng dismounted and walked onto the execution platform.

He sat down in the middle, picked up his teacup, and slowly took a sip.

When Zheng Mingyi saw him from below the stage, the fear in his eyes was almost overflowing.

But he was still holding on, still hoping—hoping those people would come to save him, hoping this young man from the capital wouldn't dare to actually do anything, hoping that a pardon would descend from the sky before sunset.

Zhou Heng put down his teacup.

He looked at Zheng Mingyi with a calm gaze.

"Zheng Mingyi," he said, "do you have anything else to say?"

Zheng Mingyi opened his mouth, his voice trembling: "Lord Zhou, you can't kill me! You know who's behind me! If you kill me, you yourself will also—"

Zhou Heng didn't let him finish speaking.

He turned his head and glanced at Chen Shen, who was standing on the side of the stage.

Chen Shen understood, walked to the front of the stage, unfolded a piece of paper, and began to read it aloud.

Those are Zheng Mingyi's charges.

Murder. Silencing witnesses. Colluding with fugitives. Causing havoc in the local area. One by one, clearly and plainly. With each item read aloud, a buzzing sound arose from the audience.

When the text read, "He ordered arson, burning Zheng Liu and her two daughters to death," someone in the crowd burst into tears.

After Chen Shen finished reading, he stepped aside.

Zhou Heng stood up.

He walked to the front of the stage and looked at the thousands of faces below.

There was anger, fear, anticipation, and numbness.

He spoke, his voice not loud, but it carried clearly to everyone's ears:

Should Zheng Mingyi have been killed?

There was a moment of silence in the audience.

Then someone shouted, "He should be killed!"

It was Zhao Laosi's voice. He stood at the front of the crowd, and his cloudy eyes finally lit up.

Then came the second, the third, and the fourth.

"He deserves to die!"

"He deserves to die!"

"He deserves to die!"

The sounds grew louder and louder, surging up like a tide and engulfing the entire Caishikou market.

Hearing those voices, Zhou Heng turned around and walked back to the execution platform.

He sat down, picked up his teacup, and took another sip.

Then he put down his teacup and picked up the command arrow on the table.

Zheng Mingyi's expression changed completely when he saw the command token.

"Lord Zhou!" he screamed hoarsely, "You can't kill me! My uncle is Xie Xun! Prime Minister Shen will speak up for me! If you kill me, you yourself will also—"

Zhou Heng's gaze fell on him.

He raised his hand.

The command arrow fell.

"cut."

At noon, the sun was blazing.

The executioner raised his broadsword high, its blade flashing a blinding white light in the sunlight.

Zheng Mingyi's final scream was stuck in his throat, turning into a muffled thud.

Nine heads fell to the ground simultaneously.

Blood spurted out, splattering all over the ground. A strong, fishy smell filled the air. Some people screamed in fright, some turned their heads away in disbelief, some covered their mouths and gagged, and some stood there blankly, motionless.

Zhou Heng sat on the execution platform, looking at the nine headless corpses, the blood flowing all over the ground, and the faces in the crowd with expressions of terror, complexity, and indescribable emotions.

His face was expressionless.

Chen Shen walked to his side and whispered, "Young Master, let's go."

Zhou Heng did not move.

He just sat there and watched for a long time.

Then he stood up and walked down from the execution platform.

The crowd automatically parted to make way.

He crossed the road, step by step, and walked outwards.

Behind him were nine corpses and a silent, complex gaze.

We walked out of the market, into the streets and alleys, and back to the inn.

He pushed open the door of the inn, went inside, and closed it.

The room was quiet. Only his breathing could be heard.

He walked to the desk and sat down.

Outside the window, a faint commotion could be heard from the street. Some people were shouting, some were crying, and some were running.

Zheng Mingyi is dead. His accomplices in the murder and arson are also dead.

But he knew it wasn't over yet.

Zheng Mingyi is just the beginning.

He has someone behind him.

He stood up, walked to the window, and opened it.

In the distance, the sun was setting. The rooftops of Jiangling City were bathed in a golden glow, so beautiful it seemed unreal.