CHAPTER FIVE: WHAT MERCY COSTS
The drums did not stop when I left. They continued long after my back was turned, long after I disappeared from the execution grounds, as though the palace itself refused to accept that blood had been denied.
I walked slowly.
Deliberately.
Every step was measured, every movement calculated because I knew there was no going back in the decision I had just made. I knew that emperors who showed haste invited speculation, and speculation was more dangerous than rebellion.
Behind me and on me , I felt it.
The weight, the confusion, the fear.
Mercy, I was learning, was never quiet.
It screamed in the minds of men who had built their power on predictability. It unsettled those who survived by understanding exactly how cruel their ruler could be. It was a pattern and I had broken a pattern.
And the courts hated broken patterns.
The corridor swallowed me whole, its pillars tall and imposing, carved dragons coiling around stone as if frozen mid-snarl. Servants lined the walls, faces pale, heads bowed so low their foreheads brushed marble while the soldiers were standing too rigid at each corner and none of them dared to look up or look at me.
I am sure that they must have heard the rumors about Ren Yu.
And they didn't know what to think anymore.
Neither did I.
I exhaled slowly.
Inside my chest, something twisted, not guilt, not relief, but something sharper. Something like standing on the edge of a cliff and realizing the ground beneath your feet had already cracked.
Behind me, footsteps followed.
Measured.
Controlled.
Jin Ao.
He had not spoken since the execution grounds. Not a single word. And somehow, that silence was louder than any question he could have asked.
We reached my study.
The doors opened.
Closed.
The sound echoed too loudly.
I did not sit immediately.
I stood in the center of the room instead, staring at nothing, listening to the distant murmur of the court dispersing, some officials whispering behind sleeves, and advisors calculating futures, and probably enemies filing away today's anomaly for later use.
Because in this world, mercy was never forgotten.
It was remembered.
"Your Majesty, you dismissed the court without explanation."
Jin Ao's voice cut through the quiet. Not accusatory or deferential just observational.
I turned slowly.
"What explanation would you have preferred?" I asked tilting my head to the side .
His eyes met mine for a while ; sharp, dark, and steady, before looking away
"The court thrives on clarity," he said. "You gave them a mixed message ."
He paused before then, carefully saying , "Mixed messages breeds unrest."
I smiled faintly.
"Then unrest will learn restraint."
Jin Ao's jaw tightened just slightly.
I caught it.
Good.
"You spared a man who publicly defied you," he continued. "A general whose execution had already been announced. Whose death was expected."
"Yes."
"You undermined the Chief Advisor."
"Yes."
He looked at me again this time and didn't look away.
"You disrupted precedent."
"Yes."
His gaze did not waver.
"And you enjoyed it."
That one landed closer than I liked.
I stepped past him, fingers brushing the edge of the desk, grounding myself in solid wood and colder reality.
"Enjoyment is irrelevant," I said.
Jin Ao's eyes widen a bit.
"That is not true," Jin Ao replied quietly. "With you… it never has been."
I stilled.
There it was.
He is not accusing me; he is simply suspicious of my actions.
The first hairline fracture.
I turned back to him slowly, letting my expression settle into something unreadable.
"You forget yourself," I said mildly.
"No," he replied. "I remember you."
Silence stretched between us; taut, dangerous.
If there is one thing I discovered and I'm certain of ever since I stepped my foot into this novel, this world, that is that Jin Ao is the only person in this world who knows Li Shen better than I did. I may have been an avid fan and reader of the novel but even the novel stated it that Jin Ao has been with the emperor since childhood that you might even say that he is the Emperor's only childhood friend. Jin Ao had served Li Shen long enough to know his moods, his habits, his patterns. He knew when cruelty was performative, when it was sincere, when it was calculated.
And today…
Today had not fit.
"You have never spared a general," he said at last.
"Then history evolves," I replied.
"History does not just change overnight."
"Empires do."
He watched me closely now, eyes narrowing, weighing every breath I took.
"Why Ren Yu?"
I met his gaze fully.
"Because killing him would have been easy."
That was the truth.
Part of it, at least.
"And?" Jin Ao pressed.
"And I am bored of easy."
A beat.
Something flickered across his face; relief, maybe or perhaps disappointment that the answer sounded so familiar.
Like the Tyrant Emperor Li Shen.
"Yes," he said slowly. "That sounds like you."
Not relief, then.
Confirmation.
I exhaled internally.
Good.
Let him believe that.
---
Jin Ao's P. O. V
The Emperor's expression did not change. That alone was unsettling. Li Shen had always revelled in reaction ; fear, anger, pleading. He fed on it. Drew energy from it like fire from oil.
But today…
Today was... Different. Today there was restraint. Today there was control.
Too much control.
The Emperor does not do control, maybe he does to others but not to himself. Jin Ao had stood at executions before. Had heard screams, watched blood soak into stone, smelled iron thick in the air and not for once had he ever seen the emperor look away. The Emperor had never looked away, he thrived in them
Today, he had not looked at all.
That troubled him more than mercy ever could.
"Ren Yu will not break easily," Jin Ao said carefully.
"I know ," the Emperor replied. "and that's why I need him beside me and breathing."
"Breathing men plot."
"So do dead ones," Li Shen said lightly. "They just do it through martyrs."
Jin Ao frowned.
That… was true.
Too true.
"The court will test this," he warned. "They will interpret it as weakness."
The Emperor's lips curved slightly.
"Let them."
That smile.
That was familiar.
But something beneath it wasn't.
Jin Ao had sworn loyalty to Emperor Li Shen not because he admired cruelty, but because stability demanded it. Emperor Li Shen was always predictable to him.
Changing ones were not.
And unpredictability was dangerous.
---
LI SHEN 'S P. O. V
"Ren Yu will be moved to the inner holding quarters," I said. "Not the dungeon."
Jin Ao's eyes widened slightly before he masked it.
"That will not go unnoticed."
"I don't care. I want it noticed."
I turned, meeting his gaze squarely.
"He is to be guarded at all times. No mistreatment. No unnecessary force."
A pause.
Then, deliberately, "If anyone so much as bruises him without cause, they answer to me."
Jin Ao studied me.
"Understood."
But I could see the question burning behind his eyes.
Why protect the man you claimed to want to torment?
Because the closer Ren Yu stayed, the more I could control the future I knew was coming and because.... damn it. I could not undo what this body had done to him but I could choose what it did next.
The head Eunch knocked softly at the door.
"Enter."
The man stepped inside, trembling.
"Your Majesty… the Feng delegation requests an audience."
Of course they did.
Consequences did not wait.
"They are… displeased," the servant added weakly.
I smiled.
"Tell them to wait."
"How long?"
I considered.
"Until their anger cools. Or curdles."
The servant swallowed and bowed himself out of the room.
Jin Ao watched him leave, then looked back at me.
"This will cost you," he said quietly.
"I know."
"Not just politically."
I met his gaze.
"Then what else?"
He hesitated.
"Trust," he said finally.
Ah.
There it was.
The real price.
I turned back toward the window, looking out over the palace.
"I never had it," I said softly.
Jin Ao did not reply.
Behind my ribs, something tightened.
Mercy had been given.
And already, the bill was being prepared.
---
That evening, the palace settled into an uneasy quiet after dusk. The kind that remembered everything said during the day and rehearsed it at night, sharpening it into weapons.
Lanterns flickered along the corridors outside my chambers, their light trembling against the walls like nervous hands.
I dismissed the attendants earlier than usual after the meeting I had. The court members were displeased with my decision, though it is not an uncommon thing for them but this time the reason is different.
Mercy.
I stood near the window, watching the palace grounds below. Soldiers patrolled in pairs, footsteps synchronized, armor catching faint light.
Behind me, I heard it, the subtle shift of weight, the careful restraint of presence.
Jin Ao had entered without announcement.
Of course he had, even the original book described him as the tyrant's shadow.
"You should be resting," he said.
I did not turn.
"And you should be guarding the borders," I replied. "Yet here we are."
A pause.
"You didn't eat," he said.
That made me turn.
Slowly.
"What?"
"The kitchen reported untouched dishes," Jin Ao continued. "Twice."
Ah.
This was not a reprimand.
This was a probe.
"I wasn't hungry," I said.
I met his gaze.
Too quickly.
Something flickered in his eyes.
There.
The smallest reaction, not suspicion yet, but recognition that something did not align with memory.
"You are always hungry."
I forced my expression to relax.
"People change," I said mildly.
Jin Ao folded his arms behind his back.
"Yes," he agreed. "They do."
Another pause.
It was longer this time.
I could feel the tension tightening between us like a drawn bow.
"You think I endangered the empire."
"I think," he said carefully, "that you exposed a fracture."
"Whose?"
"The court's," he said. "Yours. Ren Yu's."
I turned away again, staring out at the darkened grounds.
"You worry too much."
"And you never worried at all," he countered.
That landed too close.
I tightened my grip on the window ledge.
"Say what you came to say," I said.
Jin Ao hesitated.
That alone told me this was not scripted.
"Ren Yu should have died today," he said finally.
"Yes."
"And yet," he continued, "you spared him without hesitation. You protected him. You claimed him."
I glanced back.
"Claimed?"
"We all know you have never stopped any execution and also you didn't say he would serve the empire," Jin Ao said quietly.
"You said he would serve you."
So he had caught that.
I smiled faintly.
"Is that unusual?"
"For anyone else?" he replied. "No. For you? Yes."
The silence deepened.
Jin Ao took a step closer.
"Li Shen," he said.
Not Your Majesty.
Not Emperor.
My breath caught before I could stop it.
That name.
It echoed inside my skull like a bell struck too hard.
"You never speak names," Jin Ao continued. "You use titles. Distance. Fear."
I turned slowly.
"And yet," I said coolly, "you just did."
"I did," he acknowledged. "Because I needed to see your reaction."
Clever.
Dangerous.
I stepped toward him, letting the height, the presence, the weight of the Emperor settle fully into my posture.
"You are testing me," I said softly.
"Yes."
I stopped an arm's length away.
"And what did you learn?" I asked.
Jin Ao searched my face, not for anger, not for cruelty, but for something else.
Certainty.
"I learned," he said slowly, "that you are not acting."
That was not relief.
That was worse.
"You're right," I replied. "I'm not."
Another beat.
"You didn't look at the execution," he said.
"I've seen enough death."
"You used to watch until the last breath," he pressed. "Sometimes longer."
I forced myself not to flinch.
"The Emperor Li Shen that I know would never allow anyone to call him by his name, let alone talk to him the way I'm talking to you. "
"That Emperor is dead," I said.
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Too honest.
Too real.
Jin Ao stiffened.
"What?"
I corrected immediately.
"I no longer find spectacle entertaining. I would like to get to know my commander better just like before ", I said smoothly.
His gaze sharpened.
"You've said that before," he murmured.
"When?"
"When you were ill three years ago," Jin Ao recalled. "After the fever."
My heart thudded.
I hadn't known that.
"You were different then, too," he continued. "Quieter. Reflective. You asked questions."
I smiled faintly.
"And did the world end?"
"No," he admitted. "But you did."
I let that hang between us.
"People adapt," I said. "So do monsters."
Jin Ao studied me.
And then unexpectedly, he bowed.
Not deeply.
Not ceremonially.
But sincerely.
"If this change is real," he said, "then it will not be easy."
"I never did easy," I replied.
He straightened.
"There will be resistance," he warned. "From the court. From conquered provinces. From those who thrived under cruelty."
"I know."
"And Ren Yu," Jin Ao continued. "He will try to kill you."
A corner of my mouth curved upward.
"I'm counting on it."
That finally cracked him.
Just a little.
"You're serious."
"I always am."
Jin Ao exhaled slowly.
"Then you are playing a longer game than I thought."
I met his gaze.
"So are you."
Another pause.
Then he said quietly, "I won't betray you."
I believed him.
That scared me more than doubt ever could.
"But I will watch," he added. "Closely."
"Good," I said. "I'd be offended otherwise."
He turned to leave.
At the door, he paused.
"One more thing," he said.
"Yes?"
"Mercy doesn't make you weaker," Jin Ao said. "But it makes others braver."
The door closed behind him.
I remained where I was.
Alone.
Outside, the lanterns continued to flicker.
Somewhere below, Ren Yu breathed.
CHAPTER SIX: THE MAN I DID NOT KILL