Holding Dongfang Minghui's hand, Qian Wanyu bent down and entered through the hole. The stone chamber was sturdy. Even though she had smashed an opening into it, nothing inside had been damaged. This was not a secret chamber, but a Torture Chamber. Many instruments of torture she had never seen hung on the walls; some had been tossed carelessly aside, and others lay on a stone table. The table was exceptionally tall, reaching almost to her chest. The stone walls showed that the Torture Chamber had been here for years, yet the iron chains embedded in them were all brand-new.
Little Minghui shrank behind her, studying the person sitting cross-legged in the very center. He was tall and powerfully built. Even sitting on his knees with his back straight, he was taller than she was. His head hung low, his hair obscuring everything. Iron chains wound around his arms, wrists, waist, and ankles. A quick count revealed more than ten, the thickest fastened around his waist and neck. Their other ends were embedded in the walls, sealing off every avenue of escape from his left, right, and rear.
Qian Wanyu looked through the things on the table. The papers had dried out and were covered in a thick layer of dust. The slightest touch turned them to fragments. Beside them stood numerous bottles and jars, all the porcelain bottles blackened. "Ninth Sister, come see what these are."
Dongfang Minghui had wanted to look for some time, but she was too short to reach the tabletop and could only plead with Qian Wanyu to lift her up. As soon as she saw the porcelain bottles, she warily took gloves from her storage space and put them on, then used a thick cloth to dab up some of the liquid inside. She