Who Will Go to Hell

Even though Cui Shifan had navigated the treacherous waters of officialdom for decades and had long cultivated an unflappable demeanor, he still found his mind going blank for a moment at Gu Chengyin's absurdly bizarre accusation.

The Shangguan Residence?

Shangguan Yuan was just sitting at home, yet disaster fell upon him from the sky.

Countless speculations flashed rapidly through Cui Shifan's mind, but with too little information, he found it hard to judge for the moment.

However, one thing was certain: as long as Gu Chengyin didn't show signs of flipping the table and ruining everything, he was happy to see this play out, and wouldn't even mind adding fuel to the fire.

Therefore, instead of dissuading him, Cui Shifan quickly pivoted to showing support.

He took a step forward, grasped Gu Chengyin's arm, and spoke with a sorrowful yet powerful voice:

Good! Marquis Gu! I admire your resolve. If you wish to go and confront them, I will not stop you.

But please, leave this brave warrior's remains to me.

I will certainly give him a grand burial of the highest standard, allowing him to rest in peace and comforting his heroic soul!

However, Gu Chengyin struggled fiercely, throwing off Cui Shifan's hand.

He hugged the corpse tightly, as if protecting his most precious treasure.

With a face intertwining grief and absolute resolve, he flatly refused in a hoarse yet unusually high-pitched voice:

No!

Elder Cui! I appreciate your good intentions!

Gu Chengyin's eyes were bloodshot, tears welling up once more. He turned his head, pressing his cheek against the corpse.

His voice trembled but was incredibly clear as he said, But I must take him with me! I want him to see it with his own eyes!

See how I seek justice for him with his own eyes! I want to make all those foul demons hiding in the dark tremble before my big brother!!!

Having said that, Gu Chengyin stood up and hoisted Cui Yidao's corpse onto his back.

Then, with a gaze as firm as iron, he ignored Cui Shifan's astonished look.

Stumbling yet stubbornly, he slowly walked past Cui Shifan.

His footsteps were heavy, each one seeming to trample upon the hearts of the onlookers.

Blood soaked his clothes, dripping from the hems onto the ground, leaving a shocking trail in his wake.

On his back, Cui Yidao's pale, stiff face looked exceptionally tragic and heroic under the sunlight.

This scene was simply too shocking to both the eyes and the soul.

Even the highly disciplined soldiers of the Golden Feather Guards surrounding them could not help but be moved.

Many subconsciously averted their gazes, unable to bear looking any longer, but their eyes were already wet.

Others gripped the hilts of their swords tightly, their eyes burning with a shared, righteous fury.

Gu Chengyin's miserable yet resolute image was instantly branded into the hearts of all who witnessed it.

As for Cui Shifan, he simply froze in place, his mouth slightly agape, unable to close it for a long while.

Others might not know Gu Chengyin, but didn't he?

Yet, faced with such a genuine outpouring of emotion, he momentarily couldn't tell if Gu Chengyin was being real or just acting.

Just as Cui Shifan's mind raced to figure out his next move, Gu Chengyin had already carried Cui Yidao on his back, struggling to reach the entrance of the alley.

The area had long been packed tightly by the citizens of the Divine Capital who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

When they saw Gu Chengyin emerge, bathed in blood and in a sorry state, yet still stubbornly carrying a corpse on his back, the crowd fell dead silent for a moment before erupting into an even greater uproar.

Whispers surged like a tidal wave.

Heavens, is he the Marquis of Bingjian?

Is the one on his back the big brother who died for him?

He's covered in blood! How many died, or how badly is he injured?

I heard there was an assassination attempt, dozens died!

This is too tragic.

...

Gu Chengyin turned a deaf ear to the clamor around him. He stared straight ahead, as if there was only one path in his eyes.

Step by step, slowly but firmly, he walked into the crowd.

The spectating commoners, awed by his miserable and resolute aura, or perhaps out of sympathy, silently parted to the sides, making a narrow pathway for him.

Gu Chengyin just carried Cui Yidao on his back, treading down this path opened by the crowd, moving forward.

He walked very slowly, his steps unsteady and his body swaying as if he might collapse at any moment, yet every step landed with extraordinary steadiness.

Drops of blood occasionally slid off him, hitting the bluestone slabs with faint yet startling pattering sounds.

The sunlight shone on his face, which was covered in blood and dirt, and also illuminated the pale dead face on his back.

This picture was filled with a sense of tragic power.

In the crowd, someone unknown—perhaps recalling some injustice, or perhaps purely out of a surge of hot blood—suddenly shouted at the top of their lungs:

Stay... stay strong!

This cry seemed a bit abrupt, but it was as if it ignited a certain emotion.

Immediately after, a second and third voice rang out:

Marquis Bingjian! Hold on!

We support you!

Avenge your big brother!

Heaven's justice is clear! Retribution will not fail!

I knew those corrupt officials were up to no good!

His Highness indeed has a good eye for people...

Shouts, cheers of encouragement, and discussions began to converge. At first, it was a bit chaotic.

But soon, a shared sense of righteous indignation spread through the crowd.

Gu Chengyin remained expressionless, as if turning a deaf ear to all the shouts and support around him.

He simply looked straight ahead, bearing a sea of blood debt on his back, walking forward step by step, slowly and firmly.

Watching this from behind, Cui Shifan suddenly realized he couldn't let Gu Chengyin just walk all the way over there like this.

He immediately summoned a trusted aide and quickly instructed in a low voice, Go get a flatbed cart quickly! Make sure it's clean, and find a clean cloth too.

The aide took the order and ran off swiftly.

A simple flatbed cart was quickly pushed over, layered with a clean straw mat.

Cui Shifan personally stepped forward and did a lot of talking, using excuses like we cannot let the brave warrior's remains suffer more bumps and we must encoffin him and tidy up his appearance as soon as possible.

Only then did he finally persuade the overly grief-stricken Gu Chengyin to reluctantly agree to carefully place Cui Yidao's remains on the cart, escorted by several servants from the Cui Manor to the Cui Residence.

Facing the cart, Gu Chengyin wailed once more, crying out things like Farewell, big brother and Your little brother will surely avenge you.

Afterward, he turned around to face the commoners who had not dispersed, whose numbers were even growing.

At this moment, although he had shed the heavy burden of the corpse, his appearance—covered in blood, clothes torn, face pale—remained utterly pitiful.

Gu Chengyin cupped his fists and bowed to the crowd. Though hoarse, his voice carried clearly:

Elders, fellow townsmen! Brothers and sisters! Everyone has witnessed what happened today with their own eyes!

I, Gu, thank you all for your care and support! My big brother's spirit in heaven will surely feel your kindness.

He will surely bless us to eradicate the wicked and restore a clear, just world!

Gu Chengyin paused, took a deep breath, and a look of resolve and compassion appeared on his face:

The Buddha said: If I do not enter hell, who will!

For my big brother, and for the clear blue skies of the Great Luo, even if a mountain of blades and a sea of fire, or a dragon's pool and tiger's den lie ahead,

I, Gu, am determined to go! Everyone, farewell!