The Villain Slaps The Protagonist’s Halo - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: The Protagonist Must Die

War God Sikong Han's neck was shot by Xiao Guojun's arrow, blood gushed out and splattered the ground, leaving an expression of disbelief on his face, as if he couldn't believe he would die or was astonished by Xiao Guojun's hidden depths. Snowflakes fell into his eyes, immediately merging with the blood.

The executioner trembled, kneeling, fearing Xiao Guojun might shoot him with an arrow for his inadequate handling of the situation.

The execution ground fell silent; even the kneeling guards didn't move. Sikong Han's blood flowed close to them, but they dared not move. Nie Jia, ignoring them, gestured for attendants to drag Jun Changyue away and then headed back to the palace.

The crowd kneeling at the execution ground secretly breathed a sigh of relief. The death of the War God was regrettable, but Xiao Guojun's slight hint of murderous intent had a chilling effect. The executioner stood up, wiped the blood from his hands, sighed while looking at Sikong Han's unseeing eyes, shook his head, and directed the guards to carry the body down and hang it at the city gate.

The way back to the palace was long. Nie Jia instructed the eunuchs carrying his sedan chair to wander aimlessly within the palace, checking if Shi Chen was around.

The heavy snow today made it exceptionally cold. Few palace attendants were visible even inside the royal palace.

Although Jun Changsheng was violent, he wasn't debauched or greedy. He didn't kill for gain, nor did he indulge in luxuries or care about money, power, or women. Ever since his legs were disabled, he lived like a wandering soul, and such a king naturally had no nobility willing to send their daughters into the palace. The Yan royal family's descendants were few. With the previous king and queen gone, and having suffered from a revolt by the commoners, now the vast palace only housed Jun Changsheng and Jun Changyue, desolate and pitiful to the extreme.

These were all signs of a dying nation.

Nie Jia felt heavy-hearted. Jun Changsheng's past was too similar to his own.

He reached out, and his pale palm was covered in snowflakes.

"So cold." Nie Jia murmured slowly, his fingertips feeling frozen.

He recalled how Shi Chen used to enjoy kissing his fingertips persistently in their past lives. He wondered where Shi Chen was now, and if he had also arrived in this world. The weight on Nie Jia's heart made him increasingly anxious.

Having circled the desolate palace for a full round, Nie Jia's lower back was numb from the cold before he disappointedly returned to his quarters.

After returning, Nie Jia's gloomy mood had completely dissipated. He coldly ordered, "Announce to the world: Sikong Han's intent to rebel has been covered up by a single hand, resulting in his execution. Hang his body at the city gate as a warning to others. No mercy for those who dare to pay their respects."

The subordinates immediately set out to fulfill his orders.

In the original storyline, Jun Changsheng beheaded Sikong Han and executed the Sikong family, and that was the end of it. After all, Sikong Han's rebellion hadn't gained momentum yet, swiftly suppressed by the commander of the Xuanjia. The people only knew that the king had killed the War God Sikong Han but not the reason behind the execution. Sikong Han's death was the last straw that broke the camel's back. The courtiers were furious, and the people were resentful. Hence, when Jun Changsheng was shot, it was a cause for widespread celebration.

Of course, now that Nie Jia was issuing an announcement explaining Sikong Han's death, it was unlikely that the courtiers and the people would believe it. Even if they knew Sikong Han died for attempting rebellion, in the people's hearts, he would still be a hero who died for the people, killed by a tyrant's dictatorship, worthy of being recorded in history.

The next morning, Nie Jia's messenger inquired, "Was there anyone secretly worshipping the traitor Sikong under the city wall last night?"

The guard kneeling replied, "Your Majesty, no traces were found."

Nie Jia lazily waved his hand, turned over, and went back to sleep. The guard hurriedly retreated.

"People," Nie Jia sneered sarcastically.

Your hero is hung on the city gate, enduring exposure to the elements, attacked by birds of prey, yet the hundreds of thousands in Zhuolu City lack the courage to worship his departed soul. What good is the respect and lamentation held in their mouths and hearts?

Nie Jia was full of resentment, and he lay there, dozing off in a daze.

Today, the snow stopped, and the clear sky, yet to melt the snow, was slightly warmer. Nie Jia's legs were finally not as sore. All the silver bells in the sleeping hall had been removed, leaving only one bed, making the spacious interior echo and unnervingly cold. Nie Jia, awakened by pain in his knees in the middle of the night, couldn't help but ask for two more braziers to be brought next to the bed, just barely enduring until the next morning.

He stayed curled up in bed for a while, not sleeping, not getting up, quietly lying down without knowing what he was thinking.

Shortly after, a senior eunuch entered and knelt, "Announcing to Your Majesty, Prince Jing requests an audience."

Nie Jia coldly turned his eyes, "Isn't he planning to commit suicide for love? He's not dead yet, is he?"

The senior eunuch was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected the usually affectionate Xiao Guojun, who was so fond of Prince Jing, to be indifferent to Prince Jing's life or death this time.

"Let him leave," Nie Jia impatiently furrowed his brow.

The senior eunuch didn't dare to argue. Seeing the displeased expression of his master, he immediately withdrew from the sleeping hall.

Nie Jia was very annoyed, rolled over, and lay back, staring blankly away from the door. It was already late in the morning, the sun high in the sky, but he didn't rise or even have breakfast. He spent the entire morning tossing and turning on the bed, his slightly furrowed brows never relaxing.

Not long after, Nie Jia seemed to have thought of something and gritted his teeth, "Someone come."

His call was extremely light, and the attendants outside the hall couldn't hear it at all. However, several shadows swiftly descended from the beams, kneeling in a row before the bed. Their submissive posture reeked of bloodthirstiness. It was evident they were five assassins.

"What orders do you have, Your Majesty?" one of the shadows said.

Nie Jia sat up, his gaze sweeping over the five faces of the black-clad Xuanjia. He sighed lightly afterward. Clad in black martial attire with weapons at their waist and their faces concealed, he couldn't discern their identities, but through their eyes, he could identify whether one of them possessed Shi Chen's soul.

None of the five before him did.

Disappointed, Nie Jia's anxiety deepened.

"Prepare for washing," Nie Jia said softly.

After pondering for a while, he felt it was highly likely that Shi Chen might be among the Xuanjia. There were a total of twenty-one Xuanjia, five stationed in the palace guarding his safety, while the remaining sixteen were scattered in the borderlands protecting the Yan nation's territory. Compared to other military commanders in the court, apart from Sikong Han, only the Xuanjia could suppress the army under their command.

At this moment, it wasn't wise to summon back the other Xuanjia. Nie Jia instructed the clumsy five to change his clothes and ordered, "You go to the borderlands, bring back the others as soon as possible."

The five Xuanjia were stunned, exchanging glances that revealed a hint of embarrassment. Did the king find their service lacking? Despite their expertise in various tasks, serving so intimately a frail child was a first, apparently not meeting expectations...

"Yes," they echoed before clumsily tending to Xiao Guojun's lunch. Eventually, one remained while the other four dispersed towards the border.

"Your Majesty, the steward from Prince Jing's palace has arrived, claiming an urgent matter." After lunch, Nie Jia basked in the sun on the corridor when a eunuch hurried over to whisper.

Nie Jia opened his eyes, the sunlight piercing through the chill in his gaze, reflecting an icy determination.

The eunuch was instantly drenched in cold sweat, retreating a step and bowing deeply.

Nie Jia fell silent for a moment and then said calmly, "Let him in."

The eunuch rushed to convey the message. Shortly after, a steward eunuch, head bowed, entered the corridor, "Reporting to Your Majesty, Prince Jing fell ill with a cold yesterday. His fever persists. His Highness requests Your Majesty's visit."

"A cold? Seek a physician. Why summon me? Do I treat illnesses?" Nie Jia rebuked.

The eunuch remained kneeling, now trembling visibly.

"He left the palace?" Nie Jia coldly inquired.

The eunuch quivered, unable to deceive. "Yes."

"Did he see Sikong Han hanging on the city wall?" Nie Jia continued.

Trembling, the eunuch confirmed, "Yes."

Accepting the hot tea offered by a servant, Nie Jia gently blew the mist rising from the cup. His gaze softened, "Very well, let's go see."

Accompanied by a servant, they headed to the Chiyang Palace where Jun Changyue resided. Nie Jia had anticipated Jun Changyue's request for an audience in the morning, dismissing it with disdain. Unexpectedly, Jun Changyue persisted.

Upon entering the palace, mournful sobs echoed. After the servant's announcement, Jun Changyue rushed out, tears streaming, looking at Nie Jia with a mix of resentment, dissatisfaction, and disgust, yet prostrating and pleading, "Elder Brother, if you've killed him, could you let me bury him properly?"

Nie Jia ignored him, letting the servant carry on into the inner chamber.

Jun Changyue hastily followed. From crying to fainting and then crying again since yesterday, without consuming anything, he seemed fragile, teetering on the brink of collapse.

"Aren't you ill?" Nie Jia, expressionless, lightly brushed two fingers.

The physician brought along seized the opportunity to examine Jun Changyue's pulse, then bowed to Nie Jia, "Your Majesty, Prince Jing is only emotionally distressed, no physical ailment."

"Elder Brother...?" Jun Changyue looked at Nie Jia in confusion. If he cared about his health, he should have acknowledged him. Yet, why ignore him continuously?

Feeling a chill, Nie Jia hugged the handwarmer tightly. His tone, as if pulled from an icy abyss, chilled everyone, "Who reported Prince Jing's illness to me?"

The steward eunuch from Chiyang Palace immediately dropped to his knees, stammering, "It... it was me."

"Lying about Prince Jing's illness to mock me. Take him out and execute him," Nie Jia declared, and the guards promptly removed the trembling eunuch, eyes pleading for mercy.

"No, please!" Jun Changyue panicked. This person had taken care of him since childhood, like family. He couldn't watch him be killed. Tears surged once more as he desperately grasped Nie Jia's hand, pleading, "Elder Brother, spare him! It was me who asked him to lie to bring you here. It's not his fault!"

An urgent, pained cry from outside froze Jun Changyue in place.

Nie Jia held Jun Changyue's chin with two fingers, ominously saying, "Remember, mocking the king is a capital offense. If you ever dare displease me again, I'll kill you both!"

Jun Changyue collapsed, staring fearfully at the ruler on the throne.

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