The Night Watcher of Great Jing - Chapter 63

At his plea, Zhao Li almost asked what had happened to all his bravado from the other day. Had he not told them to use whatever torture they liked and declared that if he uttered a single cry, he was a son of a bitch?

She did not provoke him, however. Instead, she raised a thumb in Old Liu’s direction.

“Impressive, Old Liu.”

Blindfolded, she pointed at the wrong person.

Shen Yan gave a faint sigh, took her by the wrist, and turned her hand in the proper direction.

The corners of Old Liu’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “A paltry trick, hardly worth mentioning.”

Their easy manner drove the scar-faced man bound to the wooden frame further into despair.

Snot and tears streamed down his cheeks.

When he was first brought in, he had tried to bite through his tongue and kill himself, but the attempt was discovered in time.

After Old Liu got hold of him, all his molars were pulled out. Now he could not die even if he wanted to.

“Give me a quick death.”

He had heard of the Jingning Guard’s Imperial Prison before. He had always considered himself vicious enough, but he was nothing before true professionals.

He wept and begged like the children who had once fallen into his hands, whom he had tortured until they were maimed or dead.

When those children begged, he had found the noise irritating and stuffed their mouths with rice bran.

Here, even closing his own mouth was beyond him.

“Introduce yourself,” Shen Yan said. As he spoke, he kicked the brazier heating the torture chamber closer to Zhao Li’s feet.

“My name is Zhu Gui.”

The scar-faced man had already confessed once, so this time he answered without hesitation.

A clerk standing nearby hastily presented his earlier statement so Shen Yan could compare the two.

Old Liu had pulled every tooth from Zhu Gui’s mouth, leaving nothing but mangled flesh. He could not contain his saliva, and it dripped steadily from his lips to the floor.

Through his slurred account, clues about the White Lotus Sect began to emerge.

He had originally been a street thug in Liaocheng who fancied himself a wandering hero. Later, he joined the White Lotus Sect.

Like the top enforcer in a gangster tale, good at fighting and willing to risk his life, he eventually rose to the position of Incense Master.

He had been dispatched to Shengjing the previous year. His original task was to manage this base and recruit as many believers as possible.

But Zhu Gui had private ambitions. He returned to his former trade as a child snatcher.

After tasting the profits, he began using the scraps of occult skill he had learned from the sect to solve problems for money.

He joined forces with You Xiang. With You Xiang and Granny Oil—two peddler-brokers who spent years going from street to street spreading tales, carrying messages, and making introductions—he established contact with many wealthy households.

In only a few months, he had built up a thriving business, and several substantial sums had been added to the believers’ donation register.

Those who hired them did not necessarily know they were dealing with the White Lotus Sect. But once a transaction was recorded, the sect possessed leverage that could be used to blackmail them later.

Zhao Li listened in silence, her brow furrowed.

Shen Yan repeatedly questioned Zhu Gui while paging through the confession, making certain there was nowhere the man could have lied.

Only when Zhu Gui was on the verge of collapse did Shen Yan signal Old Liu to give him some warm medicinal broth with an anesthetic effect.

They had to keep him alive until every last bit of value had been squeezed from him.

It would also keep him from sinking too deeply into despair and deciding he had nothing left to lose.

Old Liu soon returned with a bowl of steaming medicine.

A powerful floral fragrance spread through the blood-reeking torture chamber.

Zhao Li’s nose twitched. The scent was pleasant, and somehow familiar.

“It is juice from datura blossoms.”

Shen Yan saw her raise her face and sniff the air like a curious cat, so he explained it to her.

Datura?

Zhao Li thought for a moment before matching the name to something in her memory. She promptly covered her nose, no longer daring to inhale.

“Only the petals,” Shen Yan said. Amusement flickered through his eyes at her fierce desire to stay alive. “Smelling it won’t hurt you.”

Only then did Zhao Li lower her hand.

Old Liu carried the hot broth over to Zhu Gui. At first, Zhu Gui did not dare drink it.

Old Liu pinched his cheeks and forcibly poured two mouthfuls down his throat.

The scalding liquid washed over his bare, mutilated gums, drawing another howl from him.

But once the first mouthful went down and the strong floral fragrance spread, numbness surged swiftly through his body and into his agonized limbs.

Zhu Gui stopped resisting.

Instead, he cooperated, gulping down the broth in great swallows—drinking once, screaming once.

By the time he swallowed the last mouthful, his eyes had lost focus and he was letting out long sighs of relief.

Zhao Li’s teeth ached just listening to him, though she remained curious.

At last, Zhu Gui was dragged away and thrown back into his cell.

Holding the confession, Shen Yan instructed the clerk to organize and copy the testimony. One copy would be archived, and the other would be presented to the emperor.

While he was doing so, Zhao Li felt the white glare that had covered her vision disappear.

She knew it meant the secret medicine had worn off. She raised a hand to untie the cloth over her eyes, only for a pair of warm hands to stop her.

“What is it?” Shen Yan asked. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“I don’t need this anymore,” Zhao Li explained.

Shen Yan’s hands paused. “Leave it on for now.”

He retied the strip Zhao Li had loosened, drawing it snug again. “There will likely be an imperial decree tomorrow. It will be better if you look like this.”

Listening to good advice kept one’s belly full.

Zhao Li nodded and obediently let him secure the blindfold.

Shen Yan stood a little too close. She edged away without thinking.

His fingers seemed to brush her cheek by accident before he finally lowered his hand.

“Let’s go,” he said. “This place is cold and damp. We can talk outside.”

With that, he caught her wrist again.

Zhao Li shifted, unused to it, but Shen Yan was impeccably proper, with two layers of clothing separating their skin. She could hardly insist that she walk by herself.

So she let him lead her again. After saying goodbye to Old Liu, she followed Shen Yan out of the torture chamber.

The door shut with a thud.

Only then did Old Liu breathe out and exchange a look with the clerk.

Neither of them was blind. They had both seen the fierce, hungry way their superior stared at her, like a wolf cub eyeing a piece of meat.

His intentions were as obvious as lice on a monk’s bald head.

Only the girl herself remained blissfully unaware.

Old Liu worried for her.

He sighed softly. “Best be careful from now on.”

The clerk knew exactly what he meant and nodded in wholehearted agreement.

Zhao Li obediently let Shen Yan lead her out, hearing him remind her about steps from time to time.

Privately, she thought that although her superior often wore a handsome scowl, anyone who spent time with him would discover that he was actually a good man.

Once they left the Imperial Prison, they offered incense to Bian’an again, letting its fragrance disperse the chill and stench of blood clinging to them. Then she and Shen Yan stood side by side in the garden.

Only then did Zhao Li remember she was still holding the apple Bian’an had given her.

She did not know why Shen Yan had brought her into the garden instead of taking her back.

Perhaps her superior had something troubling him? She was no good at comforting people, so she simply kept him company in silence.

Shen Yan carefully deliberated for a long time, trying to think of something to say to her.

When he turned his head, he found her standing there with intense concentration, splitting the apple apart.

Zhao Li was strong. The fruit came cleanly in half with hardly any effort.

Smiling, she held one half out to him.

“Lord Shen.”

Shen Yan looked at her. Then his face suddenly flushed, and he raised a hand to cover his chest.