The dungeon was damp and cold.
Dead grass was piled randomly on the ground, and the heavy iron door was mottled and rusty, making a creaking sound.
The jailers sat in groups of three or four. In the past, they would have been drinking and chatting happily, joking about going to Zuixian Tower tomorrow to find some beautiful lady to have fun with.
Now that the new emperor has ascended the throne, Shen Yan is ruthless and resolute. On the day of the palace coup, the corpses in the mass grave piled up like a mountain, which was terrifying.
The jailers no longer dared to be indecisive, and they were honest and dutiful, performing their duties.
The dungeon was dark, the jailer held a candle in his hand, and the faint light illuminated half of the corner.
He quietly moved to the boss' side and spoke carefully in a low voice.
"Boss, do you really want to write this down?"
There was a man on the rack, with only six of his ten fingers left, and blood all over the floor. His hair was disheveled, his silver hair was dirty, and bloodstains covered his face, making him unrecognizable.
With his hands and feet tied, the old Taoist said in a hoarse and shrill voice, his eyes were hazy and unclear: "Your Majesty... You are a beast, worse than pigs and dogs."
The jailer felt a chill down his spine. In his hand was a thick stack of bamboo slips, on which were written countless obscene words, all of which were the curses uttered by the Taoist priest all night long.
The jailer shrank his head, shuddering with fear. He felt that if he really sent the bamboo slips to the Palace of Heavenly Purity, his head would fall off with it.
When Shen Yan was the third prince, everyone said that he was moody. Now that he has ascended the throne and become the emperor, his mood has become even more unpredictable. If an ordinary person heard someone insulting him, he would be furious and retort.
Shen Yan, however, had people scold him in different ways, and if the scolding was not good enough, the person would have his hands and feet chopped off.
The jailer was trembling with fear, and his hands trembled every time he wrote down a word of the old Taoist's curse.
The chief glared at his subordinate and said, "What do you know? Do you know who sent this person?" The chief grabbed his subordinate's ear and said, "That's Commander Yue who is beside His Majesty!"
The jailer cried out in pain and trembled, "But what this old Taoist said is too... treasonous."
Anyone who dares to insult the present emperor in public, even a random word, will be guilty of the heinous crime of killing all nine generations of his clan.
The boss disagreed: "Do you know why I am your boss?" He smiled mysteriously, his eyes narrowed into slits, raised his hand and pointed to the sky, implying something.
"We will do whatever you say, ask less and do more."
The jailer was startled for a moment, then frowned: "Boss, this man kept shouting at night that he had something to discuss with His Majesty in person. Should this be written down?"
The chief sneered two or three times: "What's so strange about this? Everyone who comes here says so. You are about to die, yet you still hope to see the emperor. Do you really think it's that easy to see the emperor?"
The chief knocked on the jailer's head and said, "I heard that this man was sent to assassinate His Majesty. If he really came to see His Majesty, and then he gave His Majesty..." The chief's voice gradually faded, "Then our lives would be in danger."
The leader put his hands behind his back and walked out with big strides.
The morning light was just breaking, and the sunlight shone through the small iron window. The old Taoist was dying, and blood was dripping down his fingers.
He muttered softly, struggling to move his dry and cracked lips.
"Rouge, rouge shop, horse, horse..."
The head gradually drooped.