They chose the old parade road for the spectacle, the one that runs straight as an accusation from the South Gate to the Hall of Judgement. Banners hung, but they did not lift. The morning had the color of cooled iron. Ling An's people lined the way without voices; even hawkers forgot to hawk. It was the sort of quiet cities keep for earthquakes and coronations.
Wu Kang walked in chains before me, unbowed, wrists bruised raw where rope disliked his skin. The guards kept the pace cruel and even, the speed used for criminals who are not allowed to look dignified. He managed dignity anyway. Blood dried in the cracks at his mouth like lacquer. He did not blink.
No musicians. No flowers. Only the click of spear butts and the soft, ashamed sound of sandals dragging away from doors as we passed.
At the foot of the steps, the chief eunuch lifted his staff and struck: once, twice. The doors yawned, the Hall swallowing us as if the city were tired of the sight of brothers.
Ministers already filled the lacquered mouth—two disciplined rows, silk arranged into virtues they did not practice. Their faces bright with sleeplessness, their tongues bladed. Wu Jin stood near the left pillar, eyes polite, hands folded like a prayer written by a lawyer. General Sun kept to the right, a shadow with rank. Shen Yue walked at my shoulder as if she had always been there, hair bound high, mouth a rule she refused to break.
The Lord Protector was present but did not sit. He stood as men stand when they intend to speak and want no interruption. The dragon dais above him was empty. The Emperor's seat stared back like a clean wound.
Seeing that absence all at once made the Hall colder.
"Prince," the Lord Protector said without preface. "Present your prisoner."
I nodded. They shoved Wu Kang forward to the foot of the steps, left him kneeling, ropes tightening enough to be a suggestion. He smiled up at our father with the small, supremely impolite pleasure of a man who knows exactly which brick the temple is missing.
The herald began to recite titles and suddenly ministers forgot ceremony.
"Death," one called, voice cracking with eagerness. "At once. Before the rot spreads."
"Trial," another shouted, which meant theater, which meant time to count bribes.
"Execution without spectacle," a third ventured, a man who collects taxes and prefers blood that wipes clean.
The noise rose, frantic, relieved to discover something it could still control. The Lord Protector lifted his hand and the noise snapped off. His gaze cut across the rows like a whetstone. Then he turned to me.
"Alive," he said, each consonant a nail. "Unmarked further. Obedience buys you the right to speak."
I kept my voice level. "I obey."
Murmurs; one minister forgot himself and laughed, short and brittle. Shen Yue took half a step nearer without seeming to move at all.
"Wu Kang," the Lord Protector said, his tone iron without fire, "you will answer: where is the Emperor?"
Wu Kang licked the blood on his lip and did not look at our father. He looked at me. The grin softened into something intimate and ugly.
"Missing," he said.
A ripple of hatred moved the ministers like a breeze moves stalks planted too close together.
"Where," the Lord Protector repeated.
"Not here," Wu Kang said, gentle as a nursery rhyme.
General Sun's jaw tightened. Wu Jin's eyes flickered with the alert boredom of men who live off angles. Shen Yue's fingers touched the edge of her belt once—the old signal that means: hold.
The Lord Protector stepped down one riser. "Do you understand the mercy you are already spending? Do you understand the arithmetic waiting if you force my hand?"
"I understand the arithmetic," Wu Kang said, still to me. "He taught me a better one. Winter's math."
I let the silence inside my ribs rise and settle. The lamps along the Hall's flanks leaned inward the way reeds lean when a boat passes in the dark and they don't know its name. A eunuch glanced up, startled, then trained his face back into wood.
"Answer him," I said to my brother, voice quiet enough that the lacquered pillars could pretend they had misheard. "Or I take the Hall outside and teach it the price of unanswered questions."
He laughed, the sound torn through stone. "There you are. The boy who counted to ten before killing spiders has learned to step on cities."
Ministers flinched and pretended it was at the echo.
The Lord Protector's stare found my face and stayed there. He did not speak. I understood the order under the silence: do not break here what cannot be mended anywhere.
I looked away from him because obedience is easier when you look at a different wall.
"Bind him to the pillar," I said. "High enough that he sees the doors."
"Prince—" the Lord Protector began.
"Alive," I said, bowing my head a degree. "Unmarked further." I let the words mean exactly what he had demanded and nothing he had hoped.
They tied Wu Kang where he could watch the Hall breathe. He did not resist. He seemed pleased to be wood.