Chapter 72

Luo Ci was pinned to the wall, his arm drenched in blood, but because of Xie Que Shan’s words, no one could decide what to do.

Even Luo Ci himself forbade anyone from helping him down, instead sending someone to the Great Enlightenment Temple to summon the master back.

Of course, with everyone gone and no eyes watching, Xie Que Shan couldn’t know who exactly had helped him down. But his goal was to let the master clearly see his anger, so Luo Ci had to remain nailed to the wall, bleeding, and wait for the master to make a decision.

The master had given orders that if Qin Shi couldn’t extract any information, then they should bring Xie Que Shan over to witness her being tortured.

—After he left, they would tell Lord Wanyan that Gui Lai Tang had captured a Bing Chu Si member, someone of high rank. The Bing Chu Si wanted to rescue her, so they should send troops to set an ambush and capture the criminals in one fell swoop.

Zhang Yuehui was certain that Xie Que Shan would rescue the woman, so he had set a perfect trap for him.

But now, Luo Ci felt that the relationship between Xie Que Shan and her might not be what they had assumed. The current situation had already gone beyond his control...

Having been struck at his soft spot, Xie Que Shan showed no sign of guilt, nor did he hide his anger—there were only two possibilities: either this weakness didn’t truly affect him, or he didn’t even regard the person involved as important.

Could it be that the master’s judgment was wrong? Was this woman not important at all?

Luo Ci struggled to turn his head and looked through the small window at the woman in the torture chamber.

He had rarely seen such a woman. She wasn’t exactly tough with her words—when the pain became unbearable, she would beg for mercy, cry, and say incoherent things. But when it came to her mental resilience, she hadn’t revealed a single useful piece of information. Even the two dry buns she received each day, she would eat one bite at a time, bowing her head in silence, lacking dignity.

She seemed to always have a tenacity, unwilling to abandon her body. She needed to eat something to maintain a little strength.

Luo Ci thought she was a strange person. When one was in extreme pain, they usually couldn’t feel hunger, and they wouldn’t be able to swallow anything. Even if they did, they would end up vomiting it during torture.

He didn’t know what she was holding onto.

Was this woman truly the key to that secret?

...

The executioners pulled Nan Yi from the chair and threw her back into the cell. She remained motionless, her legs numb. Her entire body was burning with pain, every small movement sending a piercing ache.

Nan Yi had the illusion that time was unfair, varying with the person experiencing it.

When everything quieted, the pain magnified all her senses.

Sometimes, she could hear faint sounds of string and bamboo music seeping through the cracks in the thick walls. She thought that for those people, time must pass quickly. Hours would slip away in the blink of an eye amidst the clinking of wine glasses.

Upstairs, there was warmth from the charcoal fire, delicious food, and women’s soft, silk-like hands. Embroidered clothes were piled on their bodies, maintaining dignity and grace.

Yet, for her, time seemed unbearably long, with no distinction between day and night—only a long, chaotic stretch of time.

They kept interrogating her: “Who are you? What is your relationship with Xie Que Shan?”

She wasn’t just being stubborn; she really didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t understand what they had misunderstood. She even overheard them planning to use her to lure Xie Que Shan into coming to her rescue.

Nan Yi found it quite amusing. They had clearly seen it—when Xie Que Shan heard the news that she wasn’t dead, he probably couldn’t wait to come and finish her off. She could only cling to the faint hope that the Yucheng army, particularly Yi Huai, had noticed her disappearance and might send word to Song Mu Chuan. Maybe Song Mu Chuan would find a way to save her?

She decided to wait a little longer. She couldn’t just give in.

...

But it hurt so much.

She wished she could lose consciousness soon, so she wouldn’t feel the pain anymore. Yet, her mind stubbornly clung to her, at times clear, at times foggy.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she heard footsteps approaching. They paused for a moment and then left.

Zhang Yuehui only glanced at the woman in the cell from a distance, without getting any closer.

Upon receiving the letter, he hurried back from the Great Enlightenment Temple. Both of their reactions were much stronger than he had anticipated.

No one had noticed any clues about the relationship between the two, but only Zhang Yuehui had guessed it.

While everyone else was groping in the dark, only he knew that Xie Que Shan was an undercover agent—that was the unshakable bottom logic of this entire plot.

Since Xie Que Shan was an undercover agent, he couldn’t really be fighting with the Bing Chu Si people, nor could he betray the Yucheng army. The severe injuries he had sustained could only have been voluntary. So what was it that he was willing to risk his life to protect?

That woman who should have stayed with the Xie family, but mysteriously disappeared and later went to the Yucheng army to report.

There had to be some kind of cooperative relationship between them—even something far beyond mere cooperation. That woman, since she could make Xie Que Shan risk his life, her importance was self-evident.

But until the parties involved admitted it, this was still just his conjecture. Since it was a guess, it could be wrong.

Perhaps she was just a pawn that Xie Que Shan discarded when he no longer needed her, and his injuries might have another explanation.

Should he continue gambling?

If he insisted on setting this trap, it would drag Wanyan Jun into the game as well. If things went according to his plan, he would gain everything. But if Xie Que Shan didn’t show up, he would offend both Xie Que Shan and Wanyan Jun at the same time.

And considering the events of Shang Yuan Night, he had already severely betrayed Gu Sha, who would surely bear a grudge against him.

If this plan fails, he would offend three major figures in the senior ranks of the Qi people.

The most terrifying part was Xie Que Shan. Gui Lai Tang had already revealed its claws to him, and Xie Que Shan could retaliate with just a flick of his finger. No matter how powerful Zhang Yuehui was, in the end, he was just a businessman and couldn’t stand against the entire Qi army. The best-case scenario would be for him to leave in disgrace... the worst-case scenario, he might not even survive, and all of Gui Lai Tang’s assets would be swallowed by the Qi people.

This was also the reason why Luo Ci couldn’t make a decision and had to bring Zhang Yuehui back.

If it were an ordinary person, reaching this point would mean being overwhelmed by Xie Que Shan’s power, obediently delivering the person to him, allowing him to deal with her as he pleased, as if nothing had happened.

But Zhang Yuehui was, after all, a natural-born gambler.

Zhang Yuehui furrowed his brows and applied a bit of force, pulling the iron clamp from Luo Ci’s shoulder. Blood splattered onto his face, and his elegant features now showed an unusual madness.

Luo Ci groaned, but he didn’t care about his wound. He immediately kneeled, asking for punishment: “I failed in my duties, please punish me, Master.”

Zhang Yuehui wiped the blood off his face, but it didn’t come off. Instead, it smeared more blood across his face. At this moment, he laughed—was this a show of force?

Fine then.

The moment had finally come to reveal the knives. What kind of heart was hidden beneath that skin? How much could that heart abandon? The greater the gamble, the more he cast aside gain and loss, feeling an even greater thrill.

“Go and bring Lord Wanyan here.”

“Master—” Luo Ci looked up in surprise. “This is too risky. There will be better opportunities in the future.”

“Better opportunities?” Zhang Yuehui laughed, as though hearing the greatest joke in the world. But his eyes were as deep as a stagnant pool. “There are many things in this world for which there is no time.”

Xie Que Shan was right. The Spring Uprising had killed his family, and he had never forgiven it. Although Xie Que Shan wasn’t the main culprit, the events could be traced back to him in one way or another. He should apologize for it.

Zhang Yuehui was a madman. After all these years of plotting, it wasn’t for the countless wealth in his hands, but for the day when he could push all his chips onto the table.

Either he would destroy himself alone… or they would all be destroyed together.

Either way, it would be exhilarating. This world had nothing truly worth coveting.

Luo Ci wanted to say something else, but in the end, he was just a pawn. Once the master had made his decision, there was no turning back.

After Luo Ci left, everything around him suddenly quieted.

Zhang Yuehui stepped out of the solitary room and stood quietly in the maze-like corridor. The smell of blood in the air began to stir, as if dark clouds were gathering to crush the city.

He could feel his heart pounding, his blood boiling—this was the moment a gambler who had wagered everything waited for the game to begin.

At this moment, he felt hollow, having drained out all his blood and flesh. Even a breeze, seemingly from nowhere, could pierce through his empty body.

He felt like a kite, recklessly soaring toward the Jade City in the sky, even though the mirage behind it was the entrance to hell. He wanted to go and take a chance.

Then, his gaze inexplicably fell on the prison nearby—there was a woman lying silently on the ground, as though lifeless. Her back occasionally rose and fell slightly, indicating that she was still breathing.

This scene suddenly made his heart, which had been stirred with excitement, return to a distant place. For some reason, he felt a strange sense of reality, as if he was still in the human realm.

He almost forgot that the bet was just a fragile, blood-and-flesh body. This fragility pulled him back into the realm of human emotions.

He had always been curious about this person. What kind of person could make Xie Que Shan lose his composure? He even found himself wondering, for no reason, what her name was.

Although a woman’s name was usually irrelevant. Beneath that name, there was her family, her husband’s family, and layers of mountains blocking her true identity. Even as an information broker, he had never thought to inquire about her name. He only referred to her as “Qin Shi,” or “Xie’s widow,” and more often, just “that woman.”

He took a few steps closer, wanting to see her clearly. When he saw the woman, covered in blood, curled up like a small beast, her black hair matted with blood blocking her face, he felt a pang of pity.

He wasn’t a soft-hearted person, but he rarely went too far with women.

Seeing this pitiful woman, he always thought of Nan Yi, his sister, and his heart softened.

But at this moment, that pity was quickly suppressed—his opponent was Xie Que Shan.

No one could achieve results without losing their sanity.

Zhang Yuehui stepped back, as if the figure lying there wasn’t a woman who had lost her strength, but a demon’s box—once opened, it would be impossible to stop the flood.