Yingchang Prefecture.
The vacant ground in the center of the prefecture city was crowded with people.
A temporary wooden platform stood in the center, and Qin Hui, shackled and chained, was escorted onto it by two soldiers.
He had long lost the dignity of a prime minister of the past, his hair was disheveled, his official robe was dirty, and he looked blankly at the sea of angry faces under the stage.
This was not an official court hearing, there was no gavel strike, no yells from the bailiffs.
Presiding over this "public trial" were a few elderly locals selected for their wisdom and a clerk responsible for recording the proceedings.
The true judges, though, were the thousands of citizens below the platform.
Of course, this was only how it appeared superficially; Gu Hui had actually arranged quite a few people within it.
Legislation indeed required such an act.
But law also needed control, and Gu Hui certainly did not forget this point.
