40: Chapter 40 A Shocking Turn of Events at the Execution Ground!

The execution was scheduled for twelve o'clock noon.

The execution ground was set up at the execution platform in the south of the city, surrounded by wooden fences, and the personnel from the Six Doors had already been deployed.

Lin Wan had changed back into her deep red martial attire today, shifted the saber at her waist half an inch to the right, and tightened the scabbard.

She stood on the high platform on the north side of the execution ground, taking in the entire open area at a glance.

The commoners had already packed the area outside the wooden fence.

There were vendors selling candied haws and melon seeds, and some people were even carrying children on their shoulders, standing in the back and standing on tiptoes to look inside. The soldiers on both sides of the execution ground stood in solemn formation, and the wooden plaque with today's list of names stood in the center of the execution platform, its ink dark and gleaming.

Lin Wan glanced to the left and summoned Chen Liu, the constable by her side.

"Keep a close watch on all four directions, with a guard every ten steps. Report any unusual movement immediately; do not act without authorization." She paused, then added, "There are many people today, and it will be easy for a stampede to occur if the scene becomes chaotic. Have the brothers on the outer perimeter focus on evacuating the commoners first."

Chen Liu acknowledged the order and went down to pass it on.

Lin Wan raised her head again, her gaze slowly sweeping across the crowd.

The commoners watching the spectacle had a complex excitement in their expressions—not out of malice, but the instinctive curiosity of ordinary people toward a "major event."

But her hand remained resting on the hilt of her blade, not letting go.

That mysterious expert was in the Celestial Prison—she was almost certain of it. On the day of the execution, those who were supposed to emerge from the Celestial Prison would do so; this was a rare opportunity. She had not come today to maintain order.

Chen Ran was squeezed into the crowd, his bamboo hat pulled very low, holding a handful of melon seeds.

He wasn't wearing his jailer's uniform today, having changed into an ordinary black coarse cloth robe. Standing there in the crowd, he was no different from the idlers cracking melon seeds and watching the spectacle nearby.

He had found a position with a wide view, neither too far nor too close, where he could see the movements on the execution platform at a glance.

He actually didn't have any particular thoughts about today's execution.

Having been in and out of the prison for so many years, he had sent off at least eighty, if not a hundred, prisoners. Once you've seen enough, that's just how it is.

Death was nothing remarkable; it was a settlement. Once the accounts were settled, you turned the page, and it was over.

He had come today just to see how this account would finally be settled.

As it neared noon, the escort party finally appeared at the entrance of the corridor at the north end of the execution ground.

Leading them were two Demon Suppression Division lieutenants holding long spears, followed by several death row prisoners bound tightly, who were being escorted one by one toward the execution platform.

Walking at the very end was Zhang Yulong.

He was flanked by two soldiers, his feet almost dragging along the ground, his knees as soft as if he had no bones.

As they passed the section where the commoners were gathered, someone spat in his direction, cursing "traitor" and "dog official," and rotten vegetable leaves were pelted at him, slapping onto half his face.

He didn't even wipe his face.

On the execution platform, the official overseeing the execution was already in position.

Zhang Yulong was pressed down to his knees, with a blackened wooden block in front of his head. Beside him stood the executioner, the back of his blade resting on his shoulder, reflecting the light under the sun.

He looked around.

Crowds, wooden fences, flags.

The official overseeing the execution on the high platform with an indifferent expression.

No familiar faces.

Those retainers, those people who ate and drank at his expense and flattered him daily—not a single shadow of them could be seen.

Zhang Yulong stared at the wooden block on the ground and suddenly, for no reason, thought of that jailer—one thousand taels; he had offered one thousand taels, but the other party hadn't even lifted an eyelid, just pushed the food box inside and turned to leave, as if throwing away a piece of useless trash.

He had been thinking at the time that once he got out, he would find someone to deal with that jailer.

Thinking about it now, that was probably the most ridiculous plan he had ever made in his life.

The official overseeing the execution pulled a command token from his sleeve.

Zhang Yulong's legs began to tremble.

He wanted to say something, but his throat was so dry he couldn't make a sound; only a puff of Qi leaked from his chest, thin as a punctured leather bag.

Just then, a muffled sound came from the northwest corner of the execution ground.

Lin Wan's gaze swept over there first.

The wooden fence was overturned in a whole section from the outside, crashing to the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Men in black swarmed in through the gap—there were quite a few of them, over a dozen. As soon as they entered, they split up to act—one group charged toward the soldiers on both sides, blades drawn, the sound of clashing steel exploding; the other group headed straight for the execution platform, their steps steady, their speed fast, their goal clear.

"Someone is raiding the execution ground!"

The signaling whistles suddenly blared loudly.

Lin Wan jumped down from the high platform, drew her blade, and her Aura surged like clouds.

The commoners went into a panic, fleeing in all directions, with cries and the sounds of trampling mixing together; the entire street instantly turned into a chaotic mess.

She sidestepped a few rushing commoners and cut into the center of the execution ground.

Two men in black came at her, their attacks not slow, their blade styles fierce.

Lin Wan received two moves, shifting her feet, parrying the first blade, and striking the back of her blade against the opponent's wrist joint.

With a crack, the opponent screamed, clutching their arm and flying backward.

She turned to face the second one, sweeping her scabbard horizontally, striking the opponent's ribs, and the opponent let out a muffled groan.

In just a few breaths, Lin Wan had severely wounded both enemies.

...

Chen Ran watched the chaos on the execution ground quietly, not taking any action.

The group of men in black had a very clear goal; the group charging toward the execution platform was there to rescue Zhang Yulong.

He saw Zhang Yulong have his ropes untied and be wrapped in the middle of the men in black, retreating toward the gap, his face still gray, his whole person like a piece of rotten mud being dragged along.

Chen Ran glanced at it, shifted his gaze, and continued to watch the chaos in other directions.

This muddy water had nothing to do with him.

He had no reason to intervene, nor was there any necessity to do so.

Whether the men in black could rescue Zhang Yulong, or whether Zhang Yulong lived or died, was not in his ledger.

The surrounding commoners were as chaotic as chickens with an exploded nest; he stood in place, and no one paid him any mind.

Zhang Yulong was being flanked and run out, his legs still soft, almost being carried by the men in black.

His ears were full of the noisy sounds of fighting, his head buzzing, and he hadn't fully regained his senses yet.

He had thought he was going to die; the executioner's blade had even been raised, and he had thought he was going to die.

Who saved him?

He didn't recognize these people; masks covered their faces, making it impossible to tell their background, but they came with great momentum, their skills were remarkable, and no matter how one looked at it, they had come prepared.

Zhang Yulong couldn't spare the time to think too much and just followed along.

Lin Wan glanced toward the execution platform—Zhang Yulong had already been whisked away and was retreating toward the gap in the northwest corner.

There were still seven or eight covering the rear, holding the pursuing soldiers back tightly.

To pursue or not to pursue.

She quickly calculated: if she pursued, she was unfamiliar with the terrain, the other side had experts providing support, and the risk was great.

Lin Wan turned around, her gaze quickly sweeping over the chaotic execution ground.

Running commoners, fighting soldiers, the wounded lying on the ground, scattered fragments of wooden stakes—

Her gaze paused in the northeast corner of the execution ground.

There was a person there, standing motionless.

A black robe, a bamboo hat pulled very low, face unclear, watching the execution platform and everything around it, completely out of place.

It was as if they were watching a play, with an ease that made one's teeth ache.

Lin Wan gripped her blade hilt, her eyes locked onto that figure, not shifting away.

Although she couldn't see the specific face clearly, she had a sixth sense for no apparent reason.

"Such a familiar feeling. Who exactly is he?"