Chapter 38: The Death Note

On this moonless and starless night, the darkness was as thick as ink. The late spring breeze had suddenly turned bitter and cold.

For the past few days, the Imperial Guards had been scouring the city of Bianliang, making arrests everywhere. The atmosphere was one of terror, with everyone fearful for their own safety; after sunset, people avoided stepping outside whenever possible. Even the night market at Zhouqiao had become desolate. Besides the Imperial Guards, the most frantic activity was to be found within the Supreme Court and the Ministry of Justice, yet the most heavily guarded place of all was the Censorate. Its halls were ablaze with light day and night.

The heavy, black-lacquered gates, nearly half a foot thick, creaked open slowly; the sound of metal grinding against metal was as chilling as a midwinter frost. Though the bluestone steps were swept impeccably clean, deep within the crevices of the stones lay stubborn stains of blood. Over the years, they had hardened into a thick, black-red crust.

A figure wrapped in a black cloak descended the steps, walking toward the deepest cell in the prison. Though the cell was neat and tidy, the damp, decaying stench remained inescapable. Gu Qingzhi sat under the light of a single flickering lamp, holding a brush, writing something.

"Grand Tutor Gu, it has been a few days. You have grown quite thin," the cloaked figure said, removing the hood that had kept them tightly swaddled, speaking through the thumb-thick iron bars.

Hearing the movement, Gu Qingzhi looked up. His aged, clouded eyes turned cold in an instant. Before he could speak, he was overcome by a fit of heavy coughing.

The cloaked figure stepped closer, tilting their head to examine the Grand Tutor’s complexion. "It seems your days are numbered, Grand Tutor. In that case, let us keep this brief: sign the confession, and I will ensure your entire clan remains unharmed."

"A confession? What crime have I committed?" Gu Qingzhi gasped for air, his frail, weakened state failing to diminish his characteristic stubborn integrity.

The cloaked figure let out a mocking, mirthless laugh. "Grand Tutor Gu, you have waded through the treacherous waters of the bureaucracy for decades—how can you still be so blind? It is no wonder you have ended up in this prison!"

They drew a thin sheet of paper from their sleeve and slid it into the cell. "If you refuse to debase yourself, so be it. But sign this, and my previous promise still holds."

Gu Qingzhi took the paper. After reading only a few lines, his expression shifted; he erupted in a fury. "You want me to collude with despicable wretches like you? Never! I would rather die than allow a hen crowing at dawn to destroy the foundation of the Great Yu!"

"Grand Tutor Gu!" The cloaked figure snapped, also losing their temper. "Do not be ungrateful! Your own death is one thing, but your three hundred and fourteen kin will all follow you into the underworld! Think carefully—the road to the afterlife is about to get quite crowded!"

Gu Qingzhi’s body shuddered violently, his gaunt face looking more aged than ever. Every word he spoke seemed to drip with blood: "To eat the sovereign’s grain is to be loyal to the sovereign’s cause. The Gu family has enjoyed the grace of the throne for generations; I die without regrets!"

The cloaked figure had clearly not expected Gu Qingzhi to be so obstinate and heartless, willing to abandon even his own descendants.

"Gu Qingzhi, your only grandson is but four years old—what was his name? Ah, yes, Gu Aman. Do not worry; at the execution ground, I shall have you both kneel together," the cloaked figure said coldly, each word a blade aimed at Gu Qingzhi’s most vulnerable point.

"Aman, Aman!" Gu Qingzhi closed his eyes in despair, murmuring to himself, "Find a headsman with a sharp blade for Aman... let him suffer less, let him suffer less!"

The cloaked figure had not caught the words at first, but upon leaning in to listen, they were filled with a mix of shock and rage. Gu Qingzhi truly possessed a heart of iron. It was no wonder he was so detested—he had to be eliminated.

The cloaked figure had come here and accomplished nothing, leaving instead with a belly full of frustration. Pulling up their hood, they sneered, "Gu Qingzhi, for the sake of our time serving in the same court, let me offer you one last piece of advice: a wise man does not persist in the impossible!"

Gu Qingzhi suddenly opened his eyes and lunged toward the bars, gripping them tightly. "See that the executioner is swift and clean," he shouted. "I thank you for that!"

"..." The cloaked figure stumbled, then hurried their pace. This old madman—they needed to get as far away from him as possible.

"Master Gu, why must you do this?" the jailer sighed with deep regret. Gu Qingzhi had served as Senior Grand Secretary for a decade, governing with mercy and living with integrity; the common people had nothing but gratitude for him.

Gu Qingzhi looked back and said to the jailer, "Could you trouble yourself to bring me a few more sheets of paper, young man?"

The jailer nodded. "You are too polite, Master Gu. Orders from above were given long ago: you are free to use as much stationery as you require."

With the new paper, Gu Qingzhi pondered for a long time before setting his brush to the page with solemnity. He wrote word after word with fluid grace, his expression one of profound sorrow, yet tinged with a smile of complete detachment.

The night deepened, and the entire palace complex fell into a deathly silence.

"Godfather, something has happened at the Censorate prison," the young eunuch whispered, standing behind the thick curtains.

Yu Zhong had not slept well for days. Having finally drifted off, he was startled awake, his temples throbbing with rage. He grabbed the eunuch by the collar and hissed, "Are you summoning spirits, you little brat? Has the prison been raided?"

The young eunuch trembled. "No, no—it is... Grand Tutor Gu. He is dead."

Yu Zhong’s face went deathly pale. "Dead? Dead? How did he die?"

"Hanged... he hanged himself."

Yu Zhong’s mind fell into chaos. It was over—everything was finished.

"Godfather, this is what Grand Tutor Gu left for His Majesty. Look at this," the eunuch said, producing a crumpled sheet of paper.

Yu Zhong glanced at it, his heart feeling heavy and pained. He steeled himself and went to summon the Emperor.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Your Majesty, something has happened at the Censorate prison!"

Zhao Yizhen had been unable to sleep for several nights. Having finally fallen into a shallow slumber, he awoke at the first call. Pushing aside the bed curtains, he asked, "What is it? What has happened?"

"Your Majesty, Master Gu... he has taken his own life!" Yu Zhong said, his voice trembling.

Zhao Yizhen’s mind reeled as if struck. "Who? Who did you say took his own life?" His voice was hollow and despairing, like a wind from the underworld, devoid of all life.

Yu Zhong was terrified. He collapsed to his knees, not daring to weep, biting his lip until it bled as he presented the paper to Zhao Yizhen. "Your Majesty, please, take care of yourself!"

The paper shook violently in Zhao Yizhen’s hands. His vision blurred, and he could not make out the words.

"...Whether it be thunder or rain, all is the grace of Heaven. I have served my sovereign all my life, and now I die in this prison. I have no regrets before Heaven, only regrets before my sovereign. An old man such as I, who once received the mandate of the dying Emperor—as Confucius said, 'To be entrusted with the fate of an orphan and the state, one cannot be swayed when faced with a great crisis.' Holding to this, I can finally meet the late Emperor in the heavens, and face my ancestors, the earth, and all generations to come!"

The paper drifted softly to the floor, landing at Zhao Yizhen’s feet.

Zhao Yizhen sat frozen on the floor, his heart numb with pain, his eyes stinging and clouded. He looked up at the boundless, dark horizon.

The darkness before dawn was so unfathomable.

The dawn felt so far beyond reach.

But, the light of day would eventually break through the clouds.