Chapter 112

Chapter 112

Xie Langyang was dragged into the Dali Temple prison, too weak to walk. His body limp, he was supported by two jailers, his feet scraping and dragging along the ground.

The cell had not been repaired for many years. The narrow passageway between the two rows of bars was pitted and uneven. During the dragging, one of his official boots was scraped loose, lying abandoned in the mud.

It was a pair of square-toed, high-top official boots. The inner lining was soft sheepskin, and the boot opening was trimmed with black velvet edging. They were warm and hard-wearing, reserved for the nobility as a symbol of status.

Xie Langyang's lips were dry and cracked, bleeding, the pain drawing low groans from his throat. His gaze was fixed on that boot, and he mumbled a plea: "Give me back my official boots... give me back my official boots..."

That was the last shred of dignity he could grasp, so close at hand.

But the jailers ignored him, roughly shoving him and hauling him onto a stuffy, damp straw mat shoved into a corner.

Xie Langyang fell heavily to the ground. The impact jolted the flogging wounds on his back, sending a bolt of piercing pain through him. His scalp went numb, his legs spasmed, and it took a long moment before a ragged breath escaped his lips.

He lifted his head slightly, looking around, and couldn't help but pull a bitter smile.

The irony. This was actually the very cell where Wen Zuo had been imprisoned before his death in the previous life.

It was dark and cramped here. The straw mat had been repeatedly drenched in meltwater, emitting a persistent smell of mold and decay.

Back then, he had stood right here, facing the battered and disheveled Wen Zuo after his torture, confessing and pouring out his remorse, finally handing over that stack of heart-wrenching confession full of guilt and self-condemnation.

In a daze, Xie Langyang felt as if he had been in a long, torturous dream. It seemed everything after his rebirth was false. If he just opened his eyes again, all his troubles would vanish, and he would still be that high-ranking minister weighed down by heavy guilt, yet holding a high position.

But no matter how many times he closed and opened his eyes, it was still himself lying on the straw mat, himself enduring all this humiliation.

He finally understood. Compared to this bone-deep agony of torture, his own struggles and sufferings back then were utterly insignificant.

He also finally dared to face his own despicability. He was the one who had harmed Wen Zuo, yet he didn't want to bear the heavy psychological burden, so he had painted himself as the ultimate victim.

As long as Wen Zuo could understand and forgive him before his death, he could then forgive himself with peace of mind and continue living along the impeccable, preordained path of a scion of a noble family.

Xie Langyang clenched his fists and slammed them down on the cold ground.

Why! Why did he have to be reborn! Things shouldn't have turned out like this!

He vented his fury, pounding the ground until it raised clouds of dust. Then, he heard slow footsteps approaching from afar, and a figure cast a long shadow, blocking the faint light of the candle.

He abruptly withdrew his hands, hiding his out-of-control demeanor, and propped himself up to look out.

He saw Wen Zuo swamped in a cloak that was clearly too large for him, the hem dragging down to his boot tops, wrapping his slender frame tightly.

Xie Langyang recognized that cloak. It was the one Shen Zheng had worn when he arrived, now wrapped around Wen Zuo.

"You're still here. Have you come to watch my humiliation?" Xie Langyang's voice was hoarse but had calmed down, no longer as frantic as he had been in court.

Although he had been forced to confess under severe torture, he hadn't lost all hope. Shen Chen, Gong Zhiyuan, and Luo Mingpu were still outside. They would surely find a way to bring the truth to the Emperor's attention.

Moreover, the crime of framing a court official, though serious, might not necessarily carry an immediate death sentence. If he could be exiled, there would still be a chance for rehabilitation in the future.

Furthermore, after sentencing, there would be review and possible reprieve. Emperor Shunyuan had less than a year to live. If he could endure for eleven months, he could wait for an amnesty.

Wen Zuo looked down at him, a slight lift of his brow. "Don't you know that only after you fully confess your crimes and His Majesty issues a gracious decree can I be released?"

Xie Langyang tried to prop himself up to sit, wanting to maintain some semblance of dignity. But the slightest movement tugged at all his wounds, contorting his features in pain.

He slowly let out a breath, hiding his sarcasm in his words: "I have already signed my confession. I suppose you will be free tomorrow."

"Too early." Wen Zuo raised a hand to adjust the cloak around him. Catching Shen Zheng's scent on it, his expression softened slightly. "This is only half the interrogation. You still have the most crucial charge to confess."

Xie Langyang suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with confusion, a wave of extreme foreboding washing over him.

He saw a faint smile tug at Wen Zuo's pale face as he spoke in a measured tone: "You spread two volumes of palace secrets in the capital. One slandered the Imperial Consort, claiming he was originally a man, yet won His Majesty's deep affection, someone the Emperor could not forget. The other slandered me, claiming my resemblance to the Imperial Consort in appearance, hence receiving His Majesty's exclusive favor. On one hand, you framed me for having cut-sleeve proclivities; on the other, you fabricated rumors and slander, besmirching His Majesty's holy name. This is the reason you must die."

Xie Langyang's pupils dilated instantly, a chill seeping into the very marrow of his bones. Forgetting the pain of his torture, he crawled on hands and knees to the door, shaking the cold wooden bars with all his might, hissing through gritted teeth: "You're lying! I didn't! I never did such a thing!"

Seeing Wen Zuo just watching him coldly, he suddenly came to his senses. Cold sweat poured from his entire body. "So this is your poisonous scheme! You've embroiled the Emperor, using his wrath to put me to death! Wen Zuo, how vicious your heart is!"

So that was it...

The reason the Emperor's attitude suddenly changed so drastically was because of these two rumors!

The rumors collided with the "Evening Mountain Rhapsody" case. The Emperor mistakenly thought Wen Zuo was merely a pawn, and that this matter, from start to finish, was aimed at himself, at the imperial family's dignity.

The Emperor's wrath demanded someone bear the blame. And regardless of whether Wen Zuo favored men or not, as long as he was tied to the Emperor's reputation, he had to be 'innocent'!

This scheme cut off all his avenues of escape!

Wen Zuo quietly took in his rage, breakdown, and helplessness, then remarked coolly: "You can shout and scream here all you want, but who would believe you? Oh, I forgot to tell you. Gong Zhiyuan has been imprisoned for conspiring to frame the Fifth Prince at the Spring Terrace Chess Association, exposed on the spot by Bo Zhangyi. He's already a prisoner under investigation. The entire Gong clan and all their affiliates have been imprisoned. He can't even save himself now, let alone rescue you."

"Shen Chen is still imprisoned in the rear annex, cut off from all contact with the outside world, knowing nothing. Luo Mingpu is currently anxious to cut all ties and disassociate himself from you all. Are you still delusional enough to hope he would risk his life for you?"

Every word from Wen Zuo was like a dagger, stabbing into Xie Langyang's heart, shattering the last remnants of his hope.

His hands gripping the wooden bars suddenly slipped, falling heavily. His whole body collapsed onto the straw mat, his gaze grew vacant.

"Didn't do it?" Wen Zuo let out a delighted laugh.

He allowed Xie Langyang's knuckles to bulge as he grabbed the hem of his robe, futilely venting his hatred. Yet Wen Zuo said mercilessly: "Have you forgotten how that stack of self-incriminating documents was written? What does it matter whether you did it or not? Day after day in this cell, all you can look forward to are ever-changing methods of torture. Sooner or later, you will confess. You will confess to everything."

"You want me to wait it out with you? That's fine." Wen Zuo leaned forward slightly, his gaze falling on Xie Langyang's bruised and swollen face, his tone cruel and satisfied. "I will stay right here and watch you taste every bit of suffering, every ounce of humiliation I endured in my previous life! How could I possibly miss such a perfect moment?"

Xie Langyang was finally completely crushed by Wen Zuo's desire for revenge. Tears welled up in his eyes, mixing with the blood and grime on his face. He pressed his forehead heavily against the rough wooden bars, letting out a wail of despair unlike any he had ever made: "Wanshan, I beg you, spare me! For the sake of our first meeting at Qingping Mountain, spare me! Men are not grass or trees, who can remain unchanged? But in the past, my feelings for you were truly sincere, you must know..."

Wen Zuo took a slight step back and pulled forcefully, freeing the hem of his robe from Xie Langyang's grasp.

"I didn't realize I was so soft-hearted in your eyes."

"Wanshan! Wanshan!" Xie Langyang struggled to reach forward, but grasped only empty air.

Having seen enough of his haggardness and despair, Wen Zuo said no more and turned to leave.

In truth, he was also utterly exhausted. He had spoken with vindictive pleasure and watched with satisfaction, but the moment he stepped into his own cell, that forced strength immediately withered away.

He was already physically weak. Today, his emotions had experienced several extreme swings, and he had exhausted his energy. So, as soon as he slumped onto the straw mat, he fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

During this time, the jailer came several times to replenish the lamp oil. The candlelight flickered on his cheeks, but he never woke.

The cell was originally damp and cold, but Shen Zheng's heavy cloak pressed upon him, making him inexplicably feverish. His underclothes clung to his back, sticky and unbearable.

One arm was numb from being pressed against something. He wanted to change position, but his whole body felt too heavy to move, and his eyelids simply wouldn't open.

He didn't know how much time had passed when his body was gently shaken, and then suddenly lifted into the air, held steadily in someone's arms.

The shock of being suspended made his eyes snap open. At first, they were sore and stinging, and it took a long moment to adjust to the surrounding light.

He wanted to speak, but his throat hurt terribly, as if stuffed with a water-soaked cloth, and no sound came out.

The first thing Wen Zuo saw was Shen Zheng's face.

Those eyes were still deep, but the eyelids were creased with exhaustion, and a light stubble covered his jaw, clearly indicating he hadn't slept for a long time.

Wen Zuo raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching Shen Zheng's lips. He wanted to call out "Your Highness," but only a weak, breathy sound escaped his throat.

Shen Zheng leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss into his palm, his voice low and tender. "Father hasn't woken yet, so there's no time to request an imperial decree. Your body is too weak to hold up here any longer. I'm taking you out first."

Wen Zuo's thoughts snapped back into focus. He hurriedly reached out and grabbed Shen Zheng's arm, forcing two hoarse words from his throat: "...You can't."

"Everyone here is under Xue Chongnian's command. Luo Mingpu is too busy with his own troubles to dare say much. Besides, Father already intends to pardon you. One day earlier or later makes no difference." Without waiting for further argument, Shen Zheng kicked the cell door open and strode out, carrying Wen Zuo.

Wen Zuo was physically drained, swaying with even the slightest push. How could he possibly argue? He could only lean limply against Shen Zheng's chest, letting himself be carried through the prison corridor.

Unexpectedly, as they turned a corner, they were spotted by Xie Langyang standing in the shadows.

Xie Langyang was in agony from the caning; his blood had long since glued the fabric to his flesh, and the slightest movement was excruciating. Moreover, despair clung to him, making sleep impossible.

Now, seeing Shen Zheng carrying Wen Zuo, the pent-up grief and fury in his heart finally found an outlet. An intense desire for revenge surged within him, burning so fiercely it rushed to his head, shattering all restraint.

He suddenly gripped the prison bars, straining his voice to shout: "Shen Zheng! Shen Zheng! How absurd you are! You don't even know what a ruthless, vicious person you're holding in your arms!"

Shen Zheng abruptly halted his steps, turning his face sideways. His gaze was cold and heavy, boring directly into Xie Langyang in the cell.

Seeing he had indeed captured Shen Zheng's attention, Xie Langyang began to laugh wildly by himself, a shrill, piercing laughter echoing through the space. "You think the poisonous scheme to frame you at the Spring Terrace Chess Association was Gong Zhiyuan's doing? You're gravely mistaken! It was the very person in your arms!"

All weariness vanished from Wen Zuo, replaced by an unprecedented clarity. Yet, the warmth drained from his limbs in an instant, and his heart felt as if submerged in icy water.

Yes, this was the secret he had fought so desperately to resolve, the one he absolutely dared not let Shen Zheng know.

In his panic, he even thought to cover Shen Zheng's ears. But as soon as his hands touched them, he realized how foolish and futile such an act was—like plugging one's own ears while stealing a bell.

Xie Langyang, now with nothing left to lose, curled his lips into a sinister smile. "Absurd, isn't it? Yet this is the truth! Why do you think he can calculate everything flawlessly? Why does he remember those three chess games so well? He and I are both reborn! In our past life, it was he who caused you to be imprisoned at Fengyang Terrace and ultimately plunge to your death!"

Wen Zuo was truly terrified.

Although the notion of rebirth seemed absurd, he wasn't without his tells. If Shen Zheng made the slightest connection, this would be the most logical explanation.

He had already fallen completely in love with Shen Zheng. He could not bear Shen Zheng's hatred, could not accept this genuine affection shattering into pieces.

In this world, there was finally a problem he couldn't solve, one entangled with true feelings, where concern breeds confusion.

He hurriedly hooked his fingers into Shen Zheng's collar, pulling his gaze back to himself. His mind raced frantically, scrambling for excuses. He wanted to weave a silver-tongued defense, but his throat was swollen and painful, making even articulation difficult.

Anxious sweat dampened his temples. He clutched Shen Zheng's collar tighter and tighter, his voice trembling as he lied with a guilty conscience: "...Xie Langyang... has suffered too much torture, lost his mind... Let's not listen to him!"

As he spoke, Wen Zuo's eyelashes involuntarily lowered. Though his body leaned against Shen Zheng, it was stiff as ice.

Shen Zheng indeed turned his gaze back to him, but it held a meaningful, scrutinizing look.

Wen Zuo's heart sank to the depths, his mind echoing only two words—It's over!

Seeing Wen Zuo's genuine panic, Xie Langyang finally tasted a sliver of long-lost satisfaction. That stifled, turbid resentment finally found release.

He cried out in bitter, frenzied fury: "Wen Zuo, so you have moments of fear too! Shen Zheng, does he know that in his past life, his crimes were innumerable? You, the Third Prince, Duke Liu—all perished by his hand! He is nothing like the radiant, gentle, and pure person you imagine him to be—"

"I know."

Shen Zheng's voice was icy, cutting him off with indifference.

"He... he still...?" Xie Langyang abruptly stopped, gaping at Shen Zheng, unable to believe what he had just heard. A buzzing filled his ears; he thought the pain from the torture must be causing hallucinations.

Wen Zuo also snapped his eyes open wide, filled with shock and bewilderment.

Holding Wen Zuo, Shen Zheng slowly turned and walked step by step toward Xie Langyang. His thin lips parted slightly as he began to recite slowly from memory: "...In the twenty-third year of Shunyuan, for my own selfish gain, I fabricated evidence and falsely accused the Fifth Prince, Shen Zheng, causing him to suffer wrongful imprisonment at Fengyang Terrace, ultimately leading to his fatal fall. Such an act of harming a royal heir is an outrage to heaven and earth, a crime deserving of death."

Xie Langyang shuddered violently, his blood seeming to freeze in an instant. Looking at Shen Zheng now was like beholding a vengeful ghost reborn.

Every single word and sentence was unmistakably from the written confession he had composed for Wen Zuo in their past life!

Observing Xie Langyang's instantly terrified face, Shen Zheng remained unmoved and continued reciting on his own: "Yet, persisting in my evil without repentance, I instead intensified my actions. I further employed a sorcerer to perform soul-summoning dark arts, leading to the death of the Third Prince, Shen Ting. When Duke Liu obstructed my desire to seize land, I secretly devised a poisonous scheme, forcing his family to ruin and demise."

"My sins extend even further. The courtesan Yu Ru, who refused my forced advances, I cruelly had strangled to death, treating human life as worthless grass. The wife of a Hanlin Academy compiler was also seized and taken by force by me, violating all moral decency. Though I never married, I indulged in debauchery, with countless beauties, repeatedly abducting common women, causing the common folk to tremble in fear at the mere mention of my name..."

"Any minor acts of goodness from the past were mere pretense. Now, knowing the depth of my sins, I willingly submit to the punishment of ten thousand arrows piercing my heart, begging only for a swift judgment to uphold the nation's laws. Every word written here is true, humbly presented for your review."

Xie Langyang scrambled backward on the ground, the terror in his eyes nearly shattering. "You... you are also reborn!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he shook his head violently, muttering to himself, "No, that's not right. You clearly died—"

Shen Zheng had died early in their past life. Even if reborn, he could never possibly know about that confession he would later write for Wen Zuo!

Could it be that Wen Zuo had already confessed all this to Shen Zheng?

"I know all these things, and I've known for a long time." Shen Zheng's voice was cold and heavy, watching Xie Langyang's stunned, twisted expression. "What do you think you'll achieve by dredging up these old accounts now?"

Xie Langyang's heart was shaken, yet filled with utter unwillingness. "You know he is this kind of person, and yet you still—"

"Yes, I know exactly what kind of person he is, and I still gave him my heart."

Shen Zheng took a step forward, the oppressive aura around him growing even more intense, almost suffocating Xie Langyang. "However, through my daily observations, I have a fair idea of how much truth and falsehood lies in this confession. In my view, the one who framed him with all these crimes is the truly hypocritical, despicable, and disgusting wretch!"

Xie Langyang's face turned ashen, his lips trembling, unable to even muster a retort.

He couldn't comprehend it, couldn't believe it. How could Shen Zheng accept someone who had once harmed him? How could he harbor no resentment, still choosing to love a Wen Zuo like this?

Why was it that everything he himself had once minded, detested, and considered contrary to the ways of the sages, meant nothing to Shen Zheng?

If he had been able to accept all of Wen Zuo's nature back then, would he have ended up in this state of utter ruin and disgrace today?