I have Immortality In The Cultivation World

Chapter 64: Chapter 64: The Deaf and Mute Old Man

“`

“When you encounter this man in the future, you must be careful not to stumble.”

Zhou Yi had a vague premonition that Yang Zheng was ambitious, possibly harboring desires akin to those for the Northern Border.

In the Divine Capital, the major figures were all focused on the struggle between the Orthodox Emperor and Empress Dowager Zhang in the palace, with no one caring for the middling and lower ranking officials, or the trivial gangs, brothels, and gambling dens.

One day, should there be cataclysmic changes in the Divine Capital, Yang Zheng would have too much he could do.

“Your Majesty, Yang Zheng’s mother was but a servant girl, not even a concubine, her status in the Yang family exceedingly low,” Yuan Shun said, his brow slightly furrowed and his voice grave.

“Great families pass down literature and laws, with strict rules; they abhor subordinates overstepping superiors the most. How could they allow him to overpower the legitimate sons?”

“The so-called hierarchy of elder and younger, legitimate and illegitimate, superior and inferior, are techniques to rule over the clans and fool the ignorant. They should be adhered to but not be confined by them,” Zhou Yi shook his head and said.

“These great families are most pragmatic; as long as Yang Zheng keeps winning and growing stronger, bringing benefits to the family, the Yangs will continue to support him,” explained Zhou Yi.

Starting with the heavenly prison, Yang Zheng gathered a large group of middling and lower ranking officials through unending mutual benefits.

This process was like rolling a snowball—sticking together through various benefits, growing larger as it rolled.

Within the rolling snowball, the early joiners, having reaped the benefits, are unwilling, unable, and also afraid to get off. Those who come later, envious of the early joiners, also wish for the snowball to keep rolling on.

In the end, it would either trigger an avalanche or accumulate into a mountain.

Zhou Yi waved his hand to stop Yuan Shun from asking further, no longer discussing Yang Zheng. Whether he succeeded or failed, he was merely a fleeting cloud of a mere century.

“What about the investigation into the prisoners underneath the imperial prison?”

Bowing, Yuan Shun said, “Your Majesty, the dungeons are controlled by the successive Commanders. Those who deliver food are illiterate and deaf-mutes. After extensive investigation, we only know that the person inside is still alive, aged roughly between eighty and ninety.”

Zhou Yi then asked, “Does the Imperial Clan pay any attention to this person?”

“Decades have passed, they likely no longer care. In his later years, Emperor Chongming became obsessed with seeking immortality and locked away many monks and sorcerers in the imperial prison,” Yuan Shun answered.

“According to the Jinyiwei archives I’ve researched, Emperor Chongming left a will claiming that this person committed heinous crimes and must be imprisoned until death. Now, the Commander oversees the prisoner only following the old precedent,” Yuan Shun explained.

“Interesting,” said Zhou Yi, a glint of light flashing in his eyes as he vanished from Yuan’s mansion.

…

The sixteenth year of the Orthodox reign.

September.

The execution ground at Caishikou.

Thousands of prisoners kneeled in neat rows, their wailing, cries of injustice, and pleas for mercy drowning out the chatter of the spectators.

The once haughty and aloof elites now knelt dirty and disheveled, weeping bitterly.

The young, not understanding the situation, felt the outside was warmer than the heavenly prison, lively with many people, innocently calling out for their parents in confusion.

Zhou Yi, with his hands tucked in his sleeves, stood amidst the crowd, his expression indifferent.

A man in flying fish attire beside him, bearing an embroidered spring knife, nudged Zhou Yi.

“Old Zheng, you haven’t enjoyed a woman in your life. Tomorrow I’ll take you to The Bureau of Music. The Zhang family, with thousands in their household, surely had plenty of beauties. In the past, we didn’t even have the chance to look at them!”

“Oooo?”

Zhou Yi turned his head, puzzled, humming through his closed lips, and pointed to his ears.

“Old Yu, what are you saying to Old Zheng? At his age, deaf and dumb, he probably doesn’t even know the difference between men and women!”

The words of this Jinyiwei colleague provoked a burst of laughter from his peers.

Meanwhile.

The third quarter of the hour had arrived.

The supervising execution officer, Yang Zheng, loudly read out the twelve major crimes of the Zhang family, such as plotting rebellion, immorality, disrespect, and internal chaos, tossing down the execution order.

“Carry out the execution!”

Crack! Crack! Crack…

The beheading of thousands—there weren’t enough executioners in the Divine Capital for the task, with each having to cut over a dozen heads.

As a result, blood spurted continuously on the execution ground, like fireworks. Anytime a spurt reached a great distance, it would cause the crowd to cheer.

The people didn’t care what crimes the Zhang family had committed. As long as it was the beheading of a high official’s head, it was certainly cause for joy!

When the execution ended,

the entire Caishikou was stained red, with nowhere left to step without blood sticking to the soles of shoes.

“Come on, let’s go to Spring Breeze Building for a drink!”

“`

Old Yu waved his hand, and a dozen or so men strode away in formation.

On the road, whether it was common folks or officials, they all hurriedly stepped aside upon encountering them; with the reliance of two generations of emperors, the power of the Jinyiwei was stronger than during the Taizu’s time, rather than weaker.

In the Divine Capital, the leading brothel was the Kuaihuo Forest.

The Spring Breeze Building was no longer the bustling scene of yesteryears, with sparse guests whose attire did not suggest wealth.

It had been three consecutive years now since the last Oiran election had taken place.

The Kuaihuo Forest controlled the trade of the “teeth row,” cutting off the source of girls with superior qualifications, making an Oiran selection at the Spring Breeze Building a subject for ridicule.

Old Yu brought his colleagues to the Spring Breeze Building because the commander of the Jinyiwei, Yuan Shun, explicitly expressed his dislike for the Kuaihuo Forest.

As with the head, so with the tail; the men of the Jinyiwei only frequented the Spring Breeze Building.

Inside the private room.

Zhou Yi took the lowest seat, buried his head in eating and drinking, and did not engage in conversation with his coworkers.

The others didn’t mind; “Old Zheng’s” head was both deaf and mute, communication was difficult, but as he was directly under the commander’s jurisdiction, they couldn’t treat him poorly.

As the meal went through five flavors, and the wine half-intoxicated them, the group slowly loosened their tongues.

Old Yu clicked his tongue and said, “Today was really an eye-opener, Empress Dowager Zhang passed away just a year ago, and her maternal clan’s bloodline was so completely severed.”

The Orthodox Emperor’s order to execute the Zhang family shocked the court and bureaucracy with many of the former emperor’s old ministers kneeling to beg for mercy.

The Grand Secretary, Yu Su, also submitted a memorial advising against the execution of his own mother’s clan, saying such an act would impair His Majesty’s sage reputation.

The result, as seen today, was that the Orthodox Emperor disregarded public opinion, assigning Yang Zheng, who had earned great merits in cleansing the “Zhang Party,” as the execution supervisor, with all male members of the Zhang family and their followers executed, and the females consigned to The Bureau of Music.

The once glorious Zhang family, flourishing across four dynasties, was now dissipated like smoke and clouds.

“Since His Majesty ascended the throne, he has suffered for fifteen years, who wouldn’t act ruthlessly in his place?”

A member of the Jinyiwei beside spoke, “The Zhang clan has been powerful for too long, acting too arrogantly. Reportedly, not long after Empress Dowager Zhang died, Zhang Heng sent people to relay a message to His Majesty, insisting that any appointment or removal of court officials must be discussed with him first.”

A colleague exclaimed in shock, “This happened?”

Zhang Heng was the patriarch of the Zhang clan, Empress Dowager Zhang’s own brother, and the Orthodox Emperor’s maternal uncle.

“Do you know why Zhang Heng wasn’t executed today?”

The Jinyiwei replied, “Commander Yuan asked for the services of the old Physician Ge, who used ginseng and gold needles to prolong his life for the occasion, while Old Liu the Knife personally performed the slow slicing. A full ten thousand cuts, a death known as ‘death by a thousand slices and ten thousand cuts!’”

“Hiss!”

Everyone sucked in a breath of cold air, then one after another praised the emperor’s wisdom, agreeing that the treacherous Zhang Party deserved its fate.

The Jinyiwei were the emperor’s personal guards, and the current commander, Yuan Shun, was an iron supporter of the Orthodox Emperor, with no love lost for the Zhang Party.

The banquet concluded.

Old Yu and the others, leading girls upstairs, watched Zhou Yi wave goodbye with a mournful sound.

All the way home.

In the solitary house with an exclusive entrance in the Dehuai District, a few trees planted askew at the entrance thoroughly shaded the courtyard.

Zhou Yi, who had spent more than a decade studying the Array Dao, had come to grasp some of its principles.

Objects could be arranged according to special patterns to either cause disorientation, conceal views, or even enhance the airflow within a room, boosting the efficiency of one’s cultivation slightly.

The following day.

Zhou Yi arrived early at the imperial prison to collect his food box from the mess hall.

The imperial prison was dull and oppressive, filled with a gloomy chill.

Even on a scorching summer day, standing inside one could feel a bone-deep coldness.

If the harshness of a normal prison was at a level one, the imperial prison would be at least ten, with countless lost souls and spirits drifting in all directions.

Zhou Yi, carrying the food box, greeted anyone he met with a mournful sound.

Seeing the Jinyiwei interrogating prisoners, he showed not the slightest interest and went straight to the deepest part of the prison.

The Jinyiwei on duty, seeing Zhou Yi come over, silently unlocked the chains, and four men lifted the heavy steel cover together, revealing a dark passage leading downwards.

Zhou Yi, familiar with the route, slipped in, stepping down the stone staircase to reach the second level beneath the imperial prison.

All the way to the bottom of the tunnel, he saw a large iron cage made of refined steel.

With animal-head bronze lamps hanging on the four walls, the faint light allowed one to barely make out the figure sitting cross-legged in the cage.

With white hair and a three-foot-long beard, the figure wore a Taoist robe that was mostly tattered.