HNYWEF -Chapter 119 Closing the Case

The blade hung in midair.

The hall was so quiet one could hear their own heartbeat.

The Wa envoy tilted his face upward. His words were already incoherent—only guttural sounds remained, like water gurgling in a nearly dry well.

Zhou Xiong looked at him.

Three breaths passed.

Then the blade moved.

Not downward.

But upward in a slicing motion.

The first strike.

The blade’s tip swept across the inner side of the man’s right wrist—fast and precise. Flesh split open, revealing something pale beneath, then blood surged out and covered it.

The Wa man screamed. His body jerked backward, only to be firmly pinned down by the Golden Guards.

The second strike.

Left wrist. Same position. Same depth.

Before the first scream had even faded, the second strike was already over.

Two cuts.

All within the span of a single breath.

Zhou Xiong sheathed his blade and stepped back.

Blood dripped from the tip—one drop, two drops—falling onto the hall’s stone floor.

He threw the blade to the ground.

A sharp “clang” echoed through the silent hall, piercingly loud.

The Wa envoy lay on the ground, both hands hanging limp. Blood streamed down his fingers, pooling into two dark red stains on the floor.

He was no longer screaming. His body trembled violently, and from his throat came only ragged “huh… huh…” sounds, as if his airway had been crushed.

Zhou Xiong no longer looked at him.

He turned around.

And faced the man on the imperial throne.

Li Shimin had already opened his eyes.

Their gazes met.

Zhou Xiong stood there, his chest rising and falling violently as he panted hard.

Those two strikes had drained him completely.

His face was deathly pale, sweat pouring down his forehead and dripping onto his robes.

He stood there, looking at Li Shimin.

Breathing.

Li Shimin looked back at him.

Neither spoke.

The hall was so silent one could hear blood dripping onto the ground.

After a long time—perhaps only a moment—Li Shimin finally spoke.

His voice was not loud, but every word was clear.

“The murderer has been executed. Court is dismissed.”

The officials had not even reacted when Li Shimin had already risen from the throne.

He walked down the imperial steps.

One step at a time.

Zhou Xiong watched him. His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to speak—but no words came out.

His body swayed.

His eyes rolled back.

“Zhou Xiong!”

Cheng Yaojin rushed forward and caught him.

Zhou Xiong had already fainted. His entire body collapsed into Cheng Yaojin’s arms, all his weight pressing down.

Cheng Yaojin staggered a step but steadied himself and held him tight.

Li Shimin was the first to arrive.

Qin Qiong came as well, supporting from the other side.

Niu Jinda, Yuchi Gong, Li Ji, and all the old comrades from the Wagang army rushed forward together.

“Move aside!”

“Carry him out! Hurry!”

“Summon the imperial physicians!”

Li Shimin stood still, watching Zhou Xiong, not letting go.

He looked at that pale face for two breaths.

Then he spoke.

“I’ll do it.”

Cheng Yaojin froze.

Li Shimin had already bent down and lifted Zhou Xiong onto his back.

“Your Majesty!”

“Enough.”

He carried Zhou Xiong forward.

Cheng Yaojin and Qin Qiong guarded him on both sides, while the others followed behind.

The officials instinctively stepped aside, forming a path.

No one spoke.

Only hurried footsteps echoed through the hall as they moved out.

Out of the hall.

Down the steps.

Across the courtyard.

Sunlight poured down, bright and glaring.

Zhou Xiong lay motionless on Li Shimin’s back.

His arms hung down. Blood from the Wa envoy still stained his fingers—now dried into dark red patches.

Li Shimin walked fast.

The weight on his back was heavy.

But he did not stop.

They reached the palace gate where a carriage was already waiting.

Hands reached in to lift Zhou Xiong onto it.

Li Shimin stood by the carriage, looking at the pale face inside.

Cheng Yaojin jumped in and shouted at the driver.

“Go!”

The carriage moved, wheels rattling as it headed down the street.

Li Shimin stood there, watching it disappear into the distance.

Qin Qiong stood beside him in silence.

After a long while, Li Shimin finally spoke.

Very softly.

“He cut the tendons?”

Qin Qiong nodded.

“Yes.”

Li Shimin was silent again.

“I wanted him dead… he made it worse. He made it worse than death…”

He turned and walked back.

After a few steps, he stopped.

Without looking back, he said,

“Send imperial physicians to the Zhou residence.”

Then he continued walking.

His figure disappeared back into the palace gates.

Qin Qiong stood where he was, looking in that direction for a long time.

Then he turned and walked toward where the carriage had gone.