Ink Blade Chapter 72 (Part 1)
Translated by Sylver (ko-fi)
Extra 5.1 If (Part 1.1)
What night is it?
I don’t see liangren, but I see snow falling in the world. (TL:liangren-my husband)
Chu Yan held his head high, his black gold wide robe fluttering under the night sky, and he saw a snowflake falling from the layered dark clouds.
The severe winter wind blows across the high ridge, this was the coldest season of Tianlan Mountain.
When the Jiuzhong Palace Master withdrew his gaze, there was a desolate corner of the Side Hall in front of him. It was deep into the night, and even the servants had rested. Only a broken paper lantern was pitifully swaying in the wind, the bright light entwined with the shadow, making people feel annoyed.
“…”
Chu Yan’s eyes were gloomy, and he slowly frowned.
Why did he come here?
Yesterday, Hua’er left the palace and went down the mountain, saying that he wanted to personally prepare some red for the big wedding. Chu Yan was naturally happy to see his beloved happy, and he agreed to let Bai Hua leave with a wave of his hand.
But as soon as Bai Hua left, he became annoyed, and the old problem of headaches started to act up, which was annoying. He simply ordered Qiu Jin to move two jars of wine, hoping to get drunk and forget about it—
In these two years, the Jiuzhong Palace had been so decadent for two days out of three, and no one dared to persuade him, and time just passed in a daze.
But after getting drunk, he opened his eyes in the middle of the night, staring blankly at the dim lights outside the window, and the snow falling rustlingly.
Snow fell just as it did, every winter was like this.
But why did he silently get up and dress, and come here?
The dirty Side Hall was not a place for the palace master. There was nothing here except the lowest servants and the sinners who have been demoted.
…Yes, the sinners who have been demoted.
“Hiss…”
Chu Yan supported his forehead, took a low breath, and swayed for two steps.
He thought to himself, he should have a bowl of sober soup before coming…
Forget it, wait until sobering up, and it’s a headache and nausea again.
Just like the old friend who is no longer the same. It’s been a long time since seeing him, and it’s inevitable to be in a trance and recall the old times; but if you see him, you will inevitably make yourself unhappy.
After a while, Chu Yan gloomily brushed his sleeves to pat off the snowflakes on his body, feeling absurd.
–It’s just a rebellious guard, why can’t he let go year after year? That person once almost took Hua’er’s life, and now that he’s about to be overjoyed in two days, how can he face his soon-to-be-married beloved with such behavior?
There was a noise coming from ahead, which was quite noticeable in the silent night.
Chu Yan had intended to go back, but after taking two steps, he felt a tightness in his chest. The noise was not loud, but it sounded like several people were shouting, cursing, and kicking, making a piercing and unpleasant sound.
The Jiuzhong Palace Master stood still for a while, his eyes sometimes dim and sometimes empty. Finally, he flicked his sleeve, turned his head, and followed the sound.
The short distance felt like a long walk to Chu Yan. The sound of the beating went from vague to clear, and he could vaguely hear dirty words like "useless" and "deserving of a beating."
Then came a sharp cry, "Bah! A traitor who was demoted by the palace master, still thinking he's a master!"
Chu Yan's footsteps suddenly stopped for a few moments, and he continued walking with a taut expression. He turned to a secluded place and soon saw a dilapidated thatched cottage.
The dilapidated wooden door creaked and rattled in the wind.
There was a light inside, and several dark figures were reflected on the wooden door, dancing like demons.
Chu Yan stopped from a distance and quickly saw what was inside. A group of servants from the Side Hall were surrounding a small steward, beating up a person.
Some of them held sticks, while others kicked directly, and they continued to curse. Their expressions did not seem to indicate any deep-seated hatred, but rather a desire to vent and have fun.
Chu Yan's face became even more gloomy, and his gaze passed over the torturers, directly fixing on the person being beaten.
The person surrounded in the middle was an extremely thin gray-clad slave. The kicks and beatings rained down on him, and his disheveled black hair covered his face.
He curled up without making a sound, not resisting or begging for mercy. His clothes were stained with blood, sweat, and dust, looking dirty and miserable.
Perhaps appearance reflected the heart, the small steward had a fierce and brutal face full of flesh. He suddenly stomped on the gray-clad slave's wrist, and when he saw the latter twitching in pain, he hummed with satisfaction.
"Tsk, tsk, this waste has been pretending to be sick since the winter solstice," the small steward said, looking around at the other slaves. "It would have been better if he had died early, but he's half-dead and paralyzed here, unable to work. It's bad luck, bad luck!"
As the steward cursed, he tortured the slave's wrist even more severely. First, he lifted his leg and then stomped down with all his strength. Finally, a faint moan escaped from the slave's throat. He seemed to be unable to bear the pain, instinctively trying to dodge, but the others laughed and pressed him down with sticks, even starting to beat his other limbs.
