A Pawn, Demon Soup

Baiyun County's nights were vastly colder than its days.

The torture chamber was already secluded, with drafts leaking in from every side.

But as far as keeping warm went, it was nowhere near as good as the prison.

Huang Sanyou, wearing nothing but a thin shirt, shivered as the cold wind swept over him.

He wanted badly to curl up into a ball, but his hands and feet were firmly shackled. He could barely move an inch.

Across from him sat a broad, burly man, built like an iron tower. He was half-reclined in a grand chair, tapping his fingers against the tabletop at an unhurried pace.

Neither of them spoke.

In the deathly silent torture chamber, the only sound was the clear, distinct tap, tap, tap of his fingers.

Yao Xiong had dropped into a chair as soon as he entered. He hadn't said a word, merely sat there, gazing straight ahead.

Perhaps the cold had become unbearable, or perhaps the knife wound Chen Zhuo had left him with that day hurt too much. Huang Sanyou was the first to speak.

"My Huang Family and Qiu Laojiu are sworn enemies. How could I possibly be in league with him?"

Huang Sanyou's defense came out faintly. He had been left waiting too long and was clearly running out of strength.

"I know."

Yao Xiong nodded.

"Then you..."

Huang Sanyou's gaze froze. A moment later, it seemed he understood. A trace of ferocity surfaced on his face.

"Yao Xiong, kill me. Even if I die, I won't say a single thing about the Huang Family, and I certainly won't let you pin Qiu Laojiu's dirty business on us."

"Doesn't matter."

Yao Xiong shrugged, glanced at the sky, then turned back and looked at Huang Sanyou as if he were an idiot.

"Do you think there's a reason I'm the only one interrogating you?"

"As long as I stay in here long enough, does it make any difference whether you talk or not?"

"Whatever you supposedly confessed—wouldn't I be the one deciding what you said?"

As his words landed, Huang Sanyou felt them cut deeper than the cold wind on his skin.

"Kill me!"

Huang Sanyou screamed the words almost hysterically.

If he didn't die tonight, his wife, children, and grandchildren would.

"Don't worry. You won't die. You're worth far more than you think."

After saying that, Yao Xiong closed his eyes, looking utterly at ease.

Huang Sanyou's face went ashen, and his eyes instantly filled with blood.

No matter how violently he thrashed, the thick iron chains hung over his head like a butcher's blade, suspended above him—and above his entire family.

But soon, he gave up struggling.

Huang Sanyou understood now. The Sun Family was pulling strings behind the scenes.

Against the Long River Gang, against Chief Clerk Wang Mingyuan, and even...

He was nothing more than a pawn for others to toy with.

He hated the Sun Family and Yao Xiong, but he hated the lowly White-Uniform Runner who had arrested him even more.

"Too bad there's no chance now."

Like a brief return of life before death, Huang Sanyou struggled until he ran out of strength. After his fit of fury, he seemed even more defeated.

But just as despair swallowed him, a baby-faced Yamen Runner suddenly opened the door to the torture chamber.

Through the silvery light, Huang Sanyou saw who had come. It was as if he'd grabbed the last lifeline in the world. He cried out hoarsely, "Save me."

As soon as Huang Yuan'er entered, he first cupped his hands to Yao Xiong, then said to Huang Sanyou, "Granduncle, please stay calm."

Yao Xiong gave a slight nod without a word, rose, and left, as if he had known all along that Huang Yuan'er would come.

Huang Yuan'er cast a dark glance at Yao Xiong's retreating back. Then he turned around and gave Huang Sanyou a sudden, faint smile.

"Granduncle, you've suffered."

"My good great-grandson... my good great-grandson..."

Watching Huang Yuan'er slowly approach, Huang Sanyou gasped for breath, his face brightening with the relief of someone who had survived a disaster.

"Quick, quick, untie me... Aaah!"

Huang Sanyou thought he had seen the light at last. Instead, he had stepped into another abyss.

A dagger plunged viciously into his heart.

Blood gushed out, staining his entire body in an instant.

Huang Sanyou's body convulsed uncontrollably.

"Wh... why..."

"I told you to kill one lowly White-Uniform Runner, and you botched even that. Tell me, aren't you useless?"

Huang Yuan'er stood calmly in front of Huang Sanyou. Even when blood splashed across his face, he only blinked.

"You botched the job, fine. But the one thing you absolutely shouldn't have done was let them bring you back to the Yamen."

Huang Yuan'er looked into Huang Sanyou's eyes and sneered. "Do you know how much trouble you've caused me—and the Long River Gang?"

"You've cost me favor with the old man, and you've cost us a tenth of our Autumn Hunt haul."

As he spoke, Huang Yuan'er pulled out the dagger and stabbed him again. "To keep you quiet forever, we've had to give up a tenth of the haul. A whole tenth! In silver, it'd be enough to pound your whole family into mincemeat."

"Hrk... hrk..."

Huang Sanyou wanted to say something more, but he couldn't get the words out. He could only stare with wide eyes as his legs kicked once, then slowly went limp.

Huang Yuan'er took a handkerchief from his waist and wiped the blood from his hands, then tossed it straight onto Huang Sanyou's face.

"Clean up the traces on the body, and put the dagger where it belongs."

"Yes."

"Tomorrow, send a couple of peddlers to his home. Sell everything that can be sold. He cost me plenty, so we should at least make some of it back."

"Shh, that's hot."

Chen Zhuo had no idea what Yan Ming had poured into the pool. A fierce burning sensation prickled across his whole body, tormenting his skin and muscles like a thousand needles.

It felt as if he'd been thrown into a huge pot of boiling soup. If the temperature rose any higher, he'd turn into a lump of cooked meat.

Chen Zhuo instinctively sprang up.

But a large hand suddenly appeared on his head and shoved him forcefully back into the water.

The sharp pain made Chen Zhuo try to get up again, but Yan Ming's voice sounded by his ear.

"Trust me. Bear through this, and it'll do you a world of good."

After a moment's thought, Chen Zhuo gritted his teeth and stayed in the water.

Whatever else it was, there was no faking a whole pool of Blood-Strengthening Soup.

"Junior Brother, Senior Brother was right about you. You've got real grit."

Yan Ming watched Chen Zhuo's choice and gave a slight nod, admiration filling his eyes.

It wasn't that he was deliberately taking revenge on him.

To enter the sect, one first had to bathe in "Demon Soup." It was a rule of their school.

There were five kinds of Demon Soup, and he had simply chosen to give Chen Zhuo the most painful one first.

"This hurdle has to be crossed sooner or later, so it doesn't matter when. Master, I'm not setting up my junior brother, am I?"

Yan Ming smiled, then turned and walked out. He looked up at the stars and murmured to himself.

"I'm cooked. I'm really about to be cooked."

The pain was so intense that Chen Zhuo's consciousness began to blur.

His nostrils twitched. He thought he could smell cooked meat.

Before his mind sank completely into darkness, a thought suddenly struck him.

If knife cuts could replace the Patting Technique and improve the Iron Cloth Shirt, wouldn't pain like these needle pricks be even more beneficial?

Gritting his teeth, Chen Zhuo used the last sliver of his awareness to assume a fighting stance and steady his breathing, letting the surging heat scorch his entire body.

Then he lost consciousness.

But in the blink of an eye, Chen Zhuo opened his eyes again.

Yet they were filled with blood-red light.

"Roar..."

Like a frenzied beast, Chen Zhuo let out a low growl.

He saw Yan Ming outside the door and, face twisted with fury, tried to charge out.

But suddenly, the blood-red light in his eyes faded at an astonishing speed.

He stared blankly around him, seemingly unable to remember where he was or what he was doing.

Soon the blood-red light returned, only to fade away once more.

It came and went, over and over.

Through the window lattice, Yan Ming watched Chen Zhuo intently, his gaze complicated, as if he were looking at an old friend.

"Once you pass this hurdle, you can truly become my junior brother."