Art Correction

Chen Cheng's hands were indeed light, gentle even. Once the wound on the prisoner's left arm had been stitched up, the man had not felt any pain at all. Instead, as the pain in the wound eased, he felt a faint sense of comfort. He closed his eyes completely, drowsing off.

"Snap!"

Chen Cheng tore off the strip of cloth binding the prisoner's shoulder and gave him a hard slap with it.

"Hiss!"

The prisoner suddenly cried out in pain and abruptly opened his eyes, blazing fury rising within them!

That young prison guard before him looked harmless enough, yet he was utterly hateful! Hadn't he said he would be gentle and that it would not hurt?

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. You can't sleep. Once someone badly injured falls asleep, it becomes difficult for them to wake up again."

Chen Cheng gave an apologetic smile, doing his best to appear gentler.

Jiang Cheng, the chief guard, wanted him alive, so he had to remain alive. That blow just now had been a necessary measure.

The prisoner could not comprehend Chen Cheng's good intentions. The fury in his eyes gradually turned into vicious hatred, killing intent brimming over. If he had not been injured, he would have chopped the boy before him to death with a single stroke!

Naturally, Chen Cheng would not argue with a dead man. He had already begun bandaging the prisoner's broken lower leg.

This time, his movements were even lighter and gentler, and the prisoner could not feel the slightest pain.

Chen Cheng had not set the bone at all. He merely wrapped it up and stopped the bleeding. Since he did not touch the bone, naturally it did not hurt.

The prisoner ground his teeth, the hatred in his eyes growing even stronger. Damn prison guard—sure enough, not a single one of them was any good!

Without setting the bone, his legs were as good as ruined.

"See? I did not lie to you this time, did I? Treating injuries really doesn't hurt!" Chen Cheng rose to his feet, his smile warm. "As long as you keep your eyes open, you won't die."

"Hmph!" The prisoner gave a rare snort.

Chen Cheng went to one side and picked up the branding iron. Finding it insufficiently hot, he returned it to the furnace and stirred the coals, making the fire burn even more fiercely.

The prisoner shut his eyes in despair!

That damned little prison guard—leaving his bones unset was bad enough, but he actually intended to torture him with a branding iron! Hateful, hateful beyond measure!

After the branding iron had burned in the furnace for a while, it became red-hot once more. Chen Cheng picked it up, turned, and headed out of the torture chamber.

"Wait!"

Chen Cheng turned back again and looked at the prisoner in puzzlement.

"One hundred taels of silver! Save my legs."

The prisoner lowered his voice, making sure only Chen Cheng could hear him.

One hundred taels of silver! Even Chen Cheng, steadfast as he was, was thoroughly shocked!

That was one hundred taels of silver! Enough silver for Chen Cheng's family to eat and drink without worry for ten years!

"Sorry, it's almost time for the shift change. I still have something important to do, so I can't delay." Thoughts racing, Chen Cheng shrugged and politely declined.

Every prisoner in the jail was a talent. To suffer a little less, they often drew grand promises for the guards out of thin air. Even those ox-and-horse prison guards did not believe such things, much less Chen Cheng, a prison guard who had lived two lives.

"Is that too little? One hundred and fifty taels. That's all I have. The money is with my old lover. Heal my legs, and I'll give it to you." The prisoner spoke anxiously.

It was probably his first time dealing with a prison guard, and he had completely misunderstood Chen Cheng. It was not that Chen Cheng found the sum too small—it was plainly a matter of trust.

"Fine. I'm a kindhearted man after all..."

Whether he believed him or not, setting bones was merely a lift of the hand to Chen Cheng.

Miserable, agonized screams rang out from the torture chamber once more, echoing throughout the prison.

After a long while, Chen Cheng emerged from the torture chamber carrying the red-hot branding iron and strode toward the death-row cells.

Every guard he passed trembled with fear, their eyes filled with awe. The prisoners in their cells were silent as cicadas in winter, shivering from head to toe!

Everyone had only one thought: Ruthless A-Cheng had finally let himself loose and begun torturing prisoners other than the bald one!

South City Prison had produced a new demon!

Chen Cheng considered himself a good man. He got along well with his colleagues and always wore a smile when dealing with the prisoners, courteous and polite.

"Brother Li, I heard Sister-in-law gave you another big, chubby son. Congratulations!"

"Uncle Zhou, let's have a few drinks together when we get the chance?"

Greeting the guards he knew along the way, Chen Cheng arrived at the death-row cell area.

These days, anyone guilty of a serious crime was generally executed on the spot. Few were captured and imprisoned as death-row inmates.

Winter had only just begun. Of the few death-row prisoners, a batch had been executed at Vegetable Market Gate after autumn, leaving the death-row cells practically empty, with only two or three inmates remaining.

When they saw Ruthless A-Cheng arrive, those death-row prisoners wished they could bury their heads in the walls.

Naturally, Chen Cheng could not be bothered with them.

When he reached the cell at the very end and opened its door, the bald Master Xiuchen was already curled up in the corner, his face full of terror. He had long since seen the glowing red branding iron in Chen Cheng's hand.

"A-Cheng, I truly haven't concealed anything else."

"Oh?" Chen Cheng held up the branding iron and slowly approached, a faint smile on his face. "Actually, I didn't intend to ask you anything. I merely came to have a little heart-to-heart talk."

Since crossing over, Master Xiuchen was the only prisoner Chen Cheng had ever tortured.

Chen Cheng did not know how to torture people, nor had he ever studied the matter carefully. At first, he had simply whipped Master Xiuchen, but the man was a Skin-Tempering Realm martial artist. Such superficial wounds meant nothing to him.

So Chen Cheng switched to the branding iron. When the searing-hot iron was pressed down, even a Skin-Tempering Realm martial artist could not take it easily.

The reason Chen Cheng tortured Master Xiuchen was, in truth, to avenge himself.

Master Xiuchen had used an incomplete martial arts manual to swindle Chen Cheng into bringing him fine wine and food every day for a full half month. Not only had Chen Cheng spent all his savings, but practicing that technique had also depleted his qi and blood, leaving him severely injured.

He had lain in bed for three full days before recovering. It was also because of that injury that Chen Cheng awakened the memories of his former life.

After recovering, Chen Cheng would, as usual, greet Master Xiuchen with the branding iron every day when he reported for work. For more than ten days straight, he had never missed a day.

Torture itself was not frightening. Even torture with a branding iron was something Master Xiuchen could withstand with ease given his strength.

But Chen Cheng kept at it relentlessly, diligently applying the branding iron every single day.

That was why Chen Cheng had earned the fearsome reputation of Ruthless A-Cheng within the prison.

"Y-you, don't come any closer!"

Master Xiuchen panicked, on the verge of collapse. Even the King of Hell took the occasional nap, but Ruthless A-Cheng tormented him every day without missing one. Who could endure that?

Chen Cheng stopped and said leisurely, "Recite the Iron Garment Art once more. If you recite it well, I'll only brand you once. But if it differs from what you recited yesterday, don't blame me. One wrong word, one branding."

"No, no, no! I'll tell you. I still have a secret incantation and method hidden away." Master Xiuchen finally cracked. The King of Hell might be easy to deal with, but petty demons were hard to shake off. When the petty demon came every day, how could he not collapse?

Besides, Ruthless A-Cheng was no ordinary petty demon. He had no credibility whatsoever. Yesterday had been the same—Master Xiuchen had recited every word correctly, yet Chen Cheng had still forcibly branded him three times!

"Oh? What method?"

Master Xiuchen's handsome, bewitching face suddenly reddened. He bent over and began fumbling with his waistband. His hands and feet were all shackled in heavy restraints, making the task rather difficult.

Half a cup of tea later, Chen Cheng strode out of the death-row cells. A panel appeared out of thin air in the space before him.

[Name: Chen Cheng

Realm: None

Skill: Iron Garment Art (Incomplete 85/100) (Not Yet Initiated 8/10).

(Note: Incomplete skills can be cultivated. The technique is automatically corrected during cultivation, and cultivation grants progress.)
]