The barbed copper staff whistled through the freezing drizzle, hurtling toward Han Yu’s right wrist and his blind mother’s grey head.
The two bailiffs sneered with vicious glee. They had broken the arms of dozens of insolent commoners over the years. In the Central Heavenly Capital, no magistrate ever dared question an executioner from the Imperial Academy.
Han Yu twisted his body instinctively in the slush. He wrapped both arms around his mother to shield her frail body with his own chest and spine.
“Yu’er, no!” Mother Han cried out blindly, feeling her son’s muscles lock into place.
CRACK!
A sickening crunch of breaking bone echoed across the silent courtyard, accompanied by a sharp, ragged gasp of pain.
However, the blood that splattered across the icy stones did not come from Han Yu.
An elderly scholar in dark grey silk robes had thrown himself directly between the bailiff’s club and the kneeling young man.
