Chapter Forty: The Scapegoat Princess Consort Is Condemned to Death (40)

Did Prince Lu Zhu Qin's roaring and shouting work?
Clearly, it did.
Before long, a guard in the Imperial Prison entered and gave him a harsh whipping. While striking him, the guard cursed viciously, calling him a beast who was about to die yet still trying to cause trouble for his betters, threatening to rip out his tongue to go with wine if he dared to howl again.
However, the guard did not go too far.
Nor did he beat him within an inch of his life.
"You dog, count yourself damn lucky! You're going to be carved by a thousand cuts soon. If I beat you half to death now, you'll easily drop dead mid-torture before I can slice off many pieces, which would make things difficult for Old Li. Otherwise, do you think I'd let you off this easily? If you dare blabber again, I'll make Old Li work overtime. Anyway, what's the difference between an hour earlier or an hour later? You're going to die today either way!"
After venting his anger with the whip, the guard prepared to leave.
It was only at this moment that Prince Lu finally registered where he currently was and what he was about to face. After all, the guard had made it crystal clear that he was soon to be led away for death by a thousand cuts.
What did a mere whipping matter under such circumstances?
Driven by a desperate survival instinct, he completely ignored the guard's threat and immediately began to clamor loudly once more, though this time he was far less arrogant, turning much more polite and tactful.
He resorted to enticements rather than threats!
"Don't go! Don't go! Everything I just said is the absolute truth. I really am Prince Lu! Someone murdered me, destroyed my mortal flesh, and shoved my soul into this current body. Hurry and go summon my imperial father.
As long as you bring my father here, I can prove my identity, and your rewards will be limitless!"
"You can pick any fifth or sixth-rank official post you like!"
As soon as these words left his mouth, before the guard could even react, the other prisoners burst into uproarious laughter.
"Hahahaha! You're merely a seventh-rank official yourself, yet you dare offer your pick of fifth or sixth-rank posts? Have you lost your mind? You're about to die, and you're still raving like a lunatic!"
"He told him to go fetch His Majesty! Hahahaha! Oh, dear god! Hahahaha... *cough, cough, cough*... I'm going to die laughing! He wouldn't even be allowed past the outer street leading to the imperial palace, let alone inside, hahahaha!!"
Some mocked him, while others seized the opportunity to tease him without fear of death.
"Chief Jailer Zhao, this is a foolproof opportunity to leap straight to the heavens! Why aren't you rushing to the imperial palace to summon His Majesty right now?"
"Indeed, supreme glory and instant promotion hinge upon this single moment!"
"Hahahaha, Chief Jailer Zhao would probably be hacked to pieces or shot into a hedgehog before he even reached the palace gates. If he's lucky, maybe he'll even leave his name in the history books."
Meanwhile, Chief Jailer Zhao himself was naturally boiling with rage, feeling thoroughly humiliated and mocked. After all, he knew his own standing all too well. Forget the inner sanctum of the imperial palace; there was no way he could even set foot inside the estate of a slightly influential official, let alone summon the Emperor!
If he possessed such capability, would he be working as a humble jailer here?
Yet, he couldn't be bothered to bicker with a brain-damaged man on the brink of death. In a fit of annoyance, he stepped forward and whipped him all over again. Afterward, pondering the matter for a moment, he still felt uneasy, worried that this scoundrel would continue his unhinged ravings. Before leaving, he simply cut out the prisoner's tongue and stuffed some hemostatic ointment into his mouth to stanch the bleeding.
This was to prevent him from dying of excessive blood loss caused by a severed tongue before his execution by a thousand cuts.
After leaving, he made a special entry in the prison's official logbook. Of course, he certainly couldn't tell the truth. What he recorded was that the prisoner, Li Fan, terrified of the impending execution by a thousand cuts, had attempted to bite off his own tongue and commit suicide. Fortunately, he, the dutiful chief jailer, had discovered it in time and forced hemostatic ointment into the prisoner's mouth to preserve his life, ensuring he remained alive and on schedule to face his punishment.
See? With just a stroke of the pen, it ceased to be an act of unauthorized torture and became a meritorious deed, providing a legitimate excuse for the missing tongue.
As for whether the prisoner had bitten it off himself or had it cut out,
did it matter?
Who on earth would go out of their way to investigate?
Besides, the man was going to be carved by a thousand cuts anyway—at the very least, a thousand or two slices would be made, and if his constitution was tough enough, over three thousand slices were possible. Once chopped into such mincemeat, who could possibly piece it back together to examine the condition of a tongue?
Faced with this, Prince Lu was utterly helpless!
Not only was he helpless, but he was also consumed by a profound terror of the impending slow torture. Soon, he began desperately trying to end his life. Since his tongue was gone, his hands shackled, and his feet chained, his only option was to hurl his head against the stone wall, hoping to dash his brains out and die a relatively swift death.
Naturally, he was reported by others.
Which summoned Chief Jailer Zhao once more.
When Chief Jailer Zhao had written that logbook entry earlier, he had still felt a lingering trace of guilt, knowing full well the difference between a madman's tongue being excised and a genuine suicide attempt. But now, all guilt vanished entirely.
Because this fellow was indeed trying to kill himself!
He was still banging his head against the wall right this second.
However, Chief Jailer Zhao wasn't worried that the fellow would actually succeed in committing suicide. The prisoner's limbs were restrained, and a heavy cangue weighed down his neck; even though he could still slam his head against the wall, he could hardly muster any real force. After all, when dealing with those condemned to death by a thousand cuts, everyone knew that suicide offered far less suffering than the official execution, so guards naturally had to be on their guard.
"Stop making a fuss! With that little strength, how do you expect to die?"
"Sigh, what a pain. Even if he can't die, bashing his head bloody will interfere with the upcoming execution. I'm utterly speechless. I owe this to you—since you're so desperate to die, I'll just send you on your way a bit earlier.
Damn it, I'm going to owe Old Li another favor."
It was truly rare to see someone create so much trouble. Fearing further complications, Chief Jailer Zhao promptly decided to dispatch him to the executioner's block ahead of schedule. The next second, he opened the cell door, dragged the head-banging Prince Lu out, and hauled him away for execution.
During the reign of Emperor Taizong of the Tang dynasty, when executions numbered only a dozen or so—or even just a few—per year, the procedure certainly wouldn't have been handled with such perfunctory haste. Senior officials of the third rank would have repeatedly reviewed the case files and submitted them to Taizong for personal verification before the Emperor oversaw the execution; only then was it considered normal.
But this was the reign of Emperor Tianwu!
How many hundreds of officials were executed every single year?
Because of the Prince Lu incident, the excuse of the Prime Minister's rebellion had even been dragged out and reused just recently. Prisons like the Dali Temple Prison and the Imperial Prison were crammed with two to three thousand death-row inmates. For a mere seventh-rank official—and a junior seventh-rank at that—whose sentence of death by a thousand cuts had already been finalized,
there was naturally no need to make a grand production of it!
They could just drag him into any random room and carry out the slicing.
As for grand spectacles like execution at the Meridian Gate or the vegetable market for all officials and commoners to witness, an official of his rank simply didn't qualify.
As for the specific process of the execution by a thousand cuts, Ding Shui did not stay to watch. After all, she merely sought revenge and didn't possess any peculiar hobby for witnessing such procedures. She waited outside the room for over two hours. When Prince Lu's mutated soul finally drifted out, attempting to flee, she made her move, recaptured his soul, and brought him back to the Imperial Prison once more.
This time, she selected a seventh-rank official scheduled for flaying and stuffing three days later. Following the exact same routine as before, she extracted that criminal's soul and released it, then fused Prince Lu's soul into the empty body.
To save Chief Jailer Zhao any further trouble,
Ding Shui thoughtfully knocked Prince Lu's soul unconscious before leaving, plunging him into a deep slumber. The force she used was slightly heavy—enough to keep him out cold for at least a full day and night, amounting to twelve hours. During this interval, Ding Shui planned to take a trip to the Prince of Han's fiefdom to deal with him.
After all, there were several other princes who were far from human.
She couldn't afford to delay any longer; any further delay would only cost more innocent lives. It was best to resolve things swiftly.
Once the princes were dealt with,
there were still plenty of other beasts left to handle.
Since she was already here, she might as well take care of them all together.