"I heard he died under Face-Pasting Torture." Even Wild Daoist could not help drawing a sharp breath at the mention of it.
This involved covering a prisoner's face with mulberry-bark paper and splashing it with water. Once damp, the paper softened and immediately clung to the face, making it impossible for the prisoner to breathe. Then a second and third Zhang sheet would be added. Usually, by the fifth Zhang sheet, the person was dead.
When the five overlapping Zhang sheets of mulberry-bark paper were peeled away, their raised and sunken contours were distinct, like the mask used in the opera performance "Jumping to Bestow Rank." That was how Face-Pasting Torture got its name.
Wild Daoist thought carefully, then shuddered as though frightened. "I heard that ever since he died, strange incidents have occurred one after another in the Grand Prison. Several people in neighboring cells have died as well. The prison has already invited someone to deal with it."
"The informant I contacted was terribly afraid. I had to spend extra silver before he agreed to keep reporting."
This was urgent. If they delayed, they would miss the effects. Su Ziji tossed down his chopsticks and rose directly. "Come. Let's go take a look."
Then he said to Ye Buhui, "Bu Hui, I have urgent business to attend to. I won't be eating lunch at the residence."
Ye Buhui had already gathered something from their conversation. "Go handle your affairs, husband."
By the time Su Ziji and Wild Daoist came out from the main courtyard, the ox cart had long been prepared. They boarded it, left through the front gate, and headed toward their destination.
"There is a restaurant in front of the Grand Prison. I booked a private room on the third floor of the closest one. It