The open ground - a large field surrounded by small verandas for the Imperial Family and nobility - was cluttered with an array of grim instruments and tools, scattered like silent witnesses to the impending punishment. In the harsh daylight, their utilitarian and cruel nature was laid bare, devoid of any decorations.

The executioner's block, a sturdy and blood-stained wooden slab, dominated the centre of the ground. Beside it lay a well-used chopping block and a gleaming executioner's axe, the very embodiment of finality.

Near the execution platform lay a set of weathered wooden stocks, worn smooth by the passage of countless hands and necks, a tool designed for public humiliation and restraint. Close by, a series of menacing whips hung from hooks embedded in the stone walls, their leather tails coiled and stained with blood. Each whip told a tale of pain, its braided strands a testament to the severity of past punishments. Scattered at irregular intervals were bamboo rods, their flexibility belied by the sharp cracks they could inflict upon bare flesh.

Against one wall stood a collection of leather straps and belts, tools of corporal punishment meant for criminals who deserved unspeakable pain, just short of death itself. In a corner, a wooden rack displayed a variety of implements designed for inflicting agony – thumb screws, toe vices, and other devices meant to extract confessions or merely to torment. Nearby, a cauldron simmered, ready to receive the heated branding irons that would leave a permanent mark on the accused.

There were pairs of pillars scattered across the field, each of the pair an equal distance from the other and chains dangled from rusty hooks into those pillars, simple things that rendered one helpless in the face of the pain that was sure to come. Between a pair of such pillar, one could see a slender figure, hands bound and held up by the shackles to the pillar. Looking closely, it was the figure of a middle-aged woman. She was slumped, the only thing holding her up was the shackles. She had tried to keep herself up a few times, but in the end, she gave up.

She was a sorry sight.

Good. That was the only satisfaction Samaya would have in this suffocating environment.

The air itself was oppressive, Samaya noted as she looked around the grounds from her place on the second highest veranda, just a step beneath the one where the Emperor and the Imperial Consort stood. The Emperor had forbidden the Empress to come and watch such a gruesome punishment be carried out in her delicate state and the Imperial Consort had jumped at the opportunity to accompany the man.

She, as a Virtuous Lady, could not be with the Emperor unless he permitted her. So she stood at the second highest veranda along with the other consorts who accompanied her. Song Yuhan was there, so was Kang Yuxin. Fu Caiyi came because she wanted to support Samaya. And Han Wanyi came because she wanted to “see that arrogant Kang bitch be knocked down a peg or two.” Liao Huimei, ever the loyal follower, followed.

Manu was with her, clinging to her side. She had an arm wrapped tightly around her boy. She’d told him he didn’t have to come here. But he had stubbornly shaken his head and insisted he’d come.

“I should witness the punishment. It’s happening because of me,” he’d said resolutely.

She had never been more proud of her child. After quickly correcting him that it was happening because of her, “because she hurt you”, she’d taken his hand and led him to the punishment grounds. It was his decision. He might not even be a teenager yet but he was old enough to make his will known. She’d stand by him and protect him.

The other verandas were getting filled up by court officials and the nobility and officers who came to watch, murmuring amongst themselves. She absently heard the Emperor call up the Prime Minister and Grand Preceptor to his own veranda. She looked up and saw two old men, one of them wearing some sort of purple and orange monk garb, walking up onto the veranda. They looked vaguely familiar. It took a moment for her to remember where she saw them … coming out of the Imperial Court when she had been disguised as a maid for the challenge.

Huh. So those were the fathers of the two most powerful women in the harem.

She could see the resemblance especially as she saw the Imperial Consort and the Prime Minister side by side. Both of them had a particularly pointed chin and narrow sly eyes, the kind that told her never to trust them.

The Emperor’s eyes flicked downwards and their eyes met. The golden gaze travelled from her to her son and lingered there for a moment. She wondered if the man would call Manu up there. When those eyes travelled back to her, she didn’t look away. Maintaining contact, she raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, asking the silent question, while also tightening her arm around Manu - a clear indicator that she was not interested in being separated from him. The man held her gaze for a moment longer before turning away and continuing whatever conversation he’d been holding with his ministers.

A presence behind her pulled her senses back to her own surroundings. “You’ll never get up there,” the voice spoke softly, and yet it was filled with sharp arrogance and simmering anger.

She turned her head, only to find Kang Yuxin looking back at her, her expression a strange mixture of a snarl and a smirk. It looked… a bit beastly, to be honest.

“What?”

“No matter how much you look up there, no matter how much you try to woo the Emperor using your son, it is no use. You will never be able to stand with the Emperor.” She scoffed. “You are just a momentary fascination for His Majesty. He will get bored soon enough. So when I come for you, do not count on his favour then.”

Wow. This woman just spiralled into a tangent on her own, didn’t she?

Samaya let out a soft sigh. “When you come for me, it is not me you should be worried about.”

Kang might be more brawn than brain, but even she could understand the threat. Her face twisted into an ugly expression of anger.

“You-”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Whatever she wanted to say, it was cut off by the ringing of drums.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

The three drum beats sounded across the grounds one after another. Samaya turned her head to see a man clad in all black, the red armbands being the exception, standing right ahead of Attendant Yu, with two more men standing on either side of the pillar. He had his hands on his back as he stood straight and stared ahead, letting the audience sit in silence for a moment before he took out a scroll from his belt and his loud voice boomed.

“Today, we are here to execute and witness the punishment of Yu, formerly a Senior Attendant of the Imperial Harem, for her offence against the First Imperial Prince. She, looking down on the Imperial Prince whom His Majesty the Emperor Himself acknowledged, decided to injure the Imperial Prince in the guise of discipline. The Emperor has examined the evidence and has determined that it was nothing but a concentrated effort to harm the Prince by a servant who does not know her place. By the decree of His Majesty the Emperor, this impudent servant shall be punished with fifty lashes and exiled from the Capital. The Emperor declares, let this punishment be the reminder of what happens when one dares to harm the Imperial Family.”

The exile was a surprise. She had not asked for that. She did not know the implications of that. But judging by the murmurs around her, it wasn’t anything good.

No mention of her or the other concubines. Even though probably everyone and their mother knew by now that she was the one to bring the complaint, the omission minimized the extent of her involvement, effectively hiding how she had steered the entire matter the way she wanted. Of course, anyone who was important enough to know probably knew. But not mentioning her made it seem like this was entirely the Emperor’s decision. It would strengthen her son’s position. As for the omission of other concubines, Samaya was sure he just did not want to ruin the delicate balance of power in the harem for this one incident. It was easy for her to stir shit up but from her observation of the power dynamics, both the Emperor and the Empress had to consider quite a lot of things with every step. It was quite an exhausting life.

The man glanced at the Emperor and she only noticed the miniscule node the Emperor gave because she had been paying attention.

It was clear this was a show directed by the Emperor. She provided the manuscript and the Emperor set the stage. It was quite the teamwork, albeit unintentional.

“Then, let the punishment commence!”

The two men behind him moved, retrieving a whip each. As they approached the woman, she began to tremble and struggle weakly against the shackles. She began to murmur, before her voice got louder and louder. Of course, it was not as loud as the announcer’s voice, but she could hear it vaguely.

She was begging for forgiveness, her voice cracking and desperate.

Samaya could not help the slight upward curl of one corner of her lips. It was cruel, she knew, to take such enjoyment in another’s despair. But that woman should never have touched her son. She had no mercy for anyone who tried to harm Manu.

One of the two punishers raised the whip and brought it down with extreme precision, the whip whistling through the air and falling down on Kang Yu’s back with a sound that resembled faraway thunder. The woman’s scream cut off her begging and echoed across the grounds. It was a blood-curdling thing, more like the desperate howl of a wounded animal than anything, filled with the agony of the whip sinking into her flesh.

“One!” The announcer’s voice roared over the scream

Samaya felt Manu flinched beside her. She glanced down and tightened her arm around him. “You don’t have to watch, you know,” she whispered softly.

Manu looked up for a moment before stubbornly shaking his head and looking back to the ground, She sighed. Her son could be quite stubborn.

She looked back as well, just in time to see the second lash fall.

“Two!” The announcer’s loud count accompanied the agonised screams.

“Three!”

“Four!”

“Five!”

….

“Forty-eight!”

“Forty-nine!”

“Fifty!”

At some point, the woman’s voice had broken and all she could let out now were cracked and hoarse gasps and whimpers. She was gasping for air, her throat no doubt burning, but it would have nothing on the absolute torment on the flesh of her back. She doubted there was any skin left on that back. Samaya could see the blood pooling underneath her, no doubt rolling down from her back and the whip.

Manu had stopped watching sometime after the 20th lash, hiding his face in her clothes. She gently covered his ear too. It would do nothing to stop the sound of the whip hitting flesh from reaching Manu but it would at least muffle it a bit. Samaya, however, did not look away after the first time when she spoke with Manu. She stared, steadfast and unblinking, as lash after lash after lash wrecked the back of that woman.

She should feel bad, she knew. The woman was in so much pain that Samaya was sure she would prefer actual death. But she did not. All she felt was vindication. Did that make her a cruel person? Maybe. But she didn’t give a fuck.

Samaya could feel the gazes. This was the first time she was coming into the public eye. The circumstances were … less than ideal. Concubines were usually introduced in the court, like the delicate flowers they no doubt presented themselves to be. Samaya was a different matter. She had just caused the punishment of a Senior Palace Attendant of the Imperial Consort. People, especially the ministers, were sure to gauge her behaviour and reaction. She could not afford to seem weak. Those opportunistic fuckers would no doubt try to find any weakness they could.

“It’s over, Manu,” she said softly as the punishers stepped away. She gently knelt in front of him. “Are you okay?”

Manu tried to be strong. But Samaya could feel the tremors running through his body. It was expected. Manu may have grown up in one of the worst places in the Kingdom, but he had protection for as long as he could remember. She taught him to protect himself but she also shielded him from the worst of what went on down there. He had never witnessed such cruel, systematic punishments, with an audience staring at the punishment like it was some sort of entertainment. And honestly, had Samaya not grown up the way she did, had she not sunk herself in the cesspit of the worst of humanity, Samaya was not sure she would have been able to stomach it.

“It’s alright.” She kissed his forehead and pulled him into her embrace. “It will be okay.”

They stayed like that for a long while. She could see the other concubines leaving but she didn’t move, not until she felt Manu’s trembling begin to cede.

Finally, Manu sniffled. “I am okay now.”

He was not. But he had probably pulled himself together enough to walk out of here on his own two feet. She was going to cuddle the fuck out of him today.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

She stood and took his hand, gently leading him down the stairs. She had not taken two steps after reaching the ground when she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her.

“Quite the first impression you made, Lady Qing.”