The Prison's Second Level

Fu Shaoping's heart pounded as he read the words reflected in the [Mystic Mandate Codex]. I wonder if punishing prisoners can advance my martial arts?

The moment the thought arose,

it lingered in his mind, refusing to leave.

Mastery of martial arts was generally divided into first glimpse, initiation, minor accomplishment, major accomplishment, and perfection. With his current cultivation at the first level of the Body Tempering Realm, practicing the second-grade martial art "Ethereal Steps" was an immense struggle, and his progress was slow.

If the fate attributes of the [Mystic Mandate Codex] could accelerate his progress in "Ethereal Steps," it would undoubtedly be a tremendous blessing.

At that thought,

he could hardly wait to rush into the prison, grab a few prisoners, and whip them to test his theory.

Clang, clang, clang!

The bell hanging from the training room's rafters rang.

"Six watches have passed already?"

Fu Shaoping rose reluctantly.

He opened the door.

Outside, the moon had already climbed above the treetops.

Only then did he realize he was ravenous.

On his way home from the Hundred Households Office, the only people he saw in town were patrolling Martial Suppression Guards. Every household had extinguished its lamps and gone to bed.

When he reached Wutong Alley,

he spotted an orange-yellow lantern still glowing in his little courtyard from afar.

Warmth instantly flooded Fu Shaoping's heart. The exhaustion from training vanished, and even his steps grew lighter.

He tiptoed into the courtyard.

Famished, he intended to make himself a simple bowl of noodles in the kitchen. Yet when he lifted the pot lid, he found his favorite braised pig's trotters warming in hot water, along with a large bowl of fragrant rice.

There was also a note left on the stove:

"Write down what you'd like to eat tomorrow, and I'll make it for you."

It was in Sister Pan'er's handwriting.

The next day,

Fu Shaoping got up at his usual time to set up the stall with Zhou Pan'er.

But when he stepped outside,

he found that Pan'er had already left ahead of him. Clearly, she had noticed how he left early and returned late, and did not want him wearing himself out.

After eating the hearty breakfast Zhou Pan'er had prepared and brewing his mother's medicinal decoction, Fu Shaoping headed straight to the prison behind the Hundred Households Office.

To his surprise,

Old Zhan had arrived even earlier that day and was already waiting in the hall.

Smiling, Fu Shaoping offered him the tofu pudding he had brought.

Old Zhan did not eat it. Instead, he waved a hand to dismiss all the jailers and runners before speaking:

"Shaoping, based on the confession you obtained, our colleagues found every one of those dozen or so missing women yesterday. They really were in an underground cavern in the valley on Autumn Grace Mountain."

That was excellent news.

Fu Shaoping listened attentively.

With a slightly probing tone, Old Zhan continued:

"Our prison has been awarded one Ninth-Rank Merit, six origin spirit stones, and ten taels of silver this time. How do you think we should divide them?"

"Uncle Zhan, I'm only here as a trainee. Naturally, the distribution is up to you."

"In that case, Shaoping, I'll open the window and speak plainly. I'm three Ninth-Rank Merits short of promotion to Commandant. I'll take the merit, you'll get the origin spirit stones, and the silver will be split evenly among the men. In addition, I'll give you a copy of the martial art 'Tiger Roar Fist' as compensation. What do you think?"

In the Martial Suppression Bureau,

the rules expressly prohibited private trading of merit credits.

However, members of a team carrying out the same assignment could decide how to distribute those credits among themselves.

Promotion to Commandant required a hundred Ninth-Rank Merits.

Thus,

in a certain sense,

the Martial Suppression Bureau's merit credits could not truly be valued in origin spirit stones.

Although Old Zhan's "Tiger Roar Fist" was only a first-grade martial art, exchanging for it at the Martial Suppression Bureau still cost five Ninth-Rank Merits. From that perspective,

Fu Shaoping was clearly getting an incredible bargain.

After all, even if the two of them split the reward equally, he would only receive half a Ninth-Rank Merit.

"Uncle Zhan, wouldn't that leave you taking a huge loss? I couldn't possibly accept."

"I have no sons or daughters, and I can't take 'Tiger Roar Fist' into the grave with me. However, I do have a presumptuous request. If... if you earn more merit in the prison, I hope you'll give me priority when distributing it. I only need two more Ninth-Rank Merits. Shaoping, can you agree to that?!"

"Of course. We'll do as you say, Uncle Zhan."

Fu Shaoping agreed immediately.

He was only just starting out, with a long way to go before becoming a Commandant. If this allowed him to befriend someone about to take up that position, it would benefit him greatly in the future.

Besides,

Uncle Zhan's "Tiger Roar Fist" alone had already covered his costs and earned him more than double in profit.

How could Fu Shaoping refuse?

Most importantly,

once he agreed, Uncle Zhan would surely have him interrogate prisoners from whom they needed leads. For the [Mystic Mandate Codex], that would clearly mean more feedback and more attribute points.

"Good, good, good!"

Old Zhan was thrilled.

He silently committed this favor from Fu Shaoping to memory.

Having said that,

Old Zhan finally turned to the main business:

"Shaoping, I've got a big deal for you."

Lowering his voice, Old Zhan quickly explained.

After hearing him out, Fu Shaoping's eyes widened like bronze gongs. It took him a long time to recover. "Uncle Zhan, this... I'm afraid this won't work. He's a ninth-level Body Tempering Realm expert!"

An expert at the ninth level of the Body Tempering Realm had already opened his dantian and was qualified to serve as a Junior Banner.

The few methods he had awakened from his past-life knowledge probably would not work.

Old Zhan chuckled.

"We've had him locked up for years anyway, and we've tried every method. He refuses to confess no matter what. Just treat this living horse as though it were dead and try your cure. Use every trick you have."

Although Old Zhan also thought it unlikely to work,

he was still unwilling to give up.

If they could pry open Old Devil Qin's mouth, they would earn a grade-eight merit credit, worth ten grade-nine merit credits. Even if the two of them split it equally, Old Zhan would have enough to become a Commandant.

"Then I'll give it a try."

Fu Shaoping did not hold out much hope.

This time,

Old Zhan personally led the way.

The cells he had entered yesterday held ordinary people. Martial artists were confined on the prison's second level.

The walls were constructed entirely from second-tier blue-gray stone. Even an Earth Origin Realm expert could not destroy them.

There were noticeably fewer cell doors on the second level.

Only thirty or forty.

Fu Shaoping was still a little nervous as he entered.

Every martial artist imprisoned here was far stronger than he was.

Seeing Fu Shaoping's shoulders tense, Old Zhan hurriedly explained:

"These imprisoned martial artists have had their shinbones broken. On top of that, the blue-gray stone walls block the primordial energy of heaven and earth outside. They're already crippled, so you needn't worry."

As they spoke, they reached the last cell.

Its door stood wide open.

A red-bearded man was bound to an iron bed with chains as thick as an arm. Beside him sat a stack of mulberry-bark paper and a bottle of fiery liquor.

The red-bearded man kept his eyes closed the entire time, as though he had not heard their footsteps.

Fu Shaoping narrowed his eyes slightly.

He was ready to take on the challenge!

Official Promotion Torture.

Old Zhan and the others had clearly tried it already, but it had not worked.

Fu Shaoping's mind raced. Suddenly, inspiration flashed, and a faint smile appeared on his face as he said to Old Zhan:

"Uncle Zhan, have someone secure his head with chains too. Then prepare a basin, make a small hole in its bottom, fill it with water, and suspend it above his head. Let the water drip onto his forehead, day and night without interruption, until he talks!"