Chapter 3

At the end of the street.  

The massive body of the Prince of Dai lay collapsed in the middle of the road, his face purplish-blue, mouth gaping wide. A half-eaten steamed bun rolled near his feet, while several servants surrounded him, wailing in grief.  

An elderly man with graying hair and decent attire cowered timidly to the side, not daring to move—the Yamen Runners who had rushed over recognized him as a well-known physician in the city, surnamed Chu. The Medical Hall where he worked happened to be on this very street. Judging by his appearance, he had likely been hastily dragged out by the Prince Dai Manor’s servants to treat the prince.  

In other words—the Prince of Dai was indeed beyond saving.  

Such a catastrophic incident was far beyond the capabilities of a few Yamen Runners. Gong, one of the runners, scrambled frantically to the County Government Office to inform the magistrate, while the remaining runners hastily found ropes to bind Xu Shi and Zhan Jianxing, dragging them toward the government office as well.  

Along the way, Xu Shi stumbled and staggered, her legs so weak she could barely take a step. She was practically being pulled forward by the runners’ sheer force. Zhan Jianxing fared slightly better, following behind and occasionally managing to steady her.  

Having studied, he was more knowledgeable than Xu Shi and understood that in their current predicament, being taken to the government office for an official judgment was already a rare sliver of hope. Otherwise, if left to the Prince Dai Manor’s people, they could have been beaten to death right on the street. Even if it were later proven that they were wronged, what good would that do?  

Still, he was just a twelve-year-old boy. With this calamity suddenly crashing down upon him, his heart was a mess of fear and confusion, utterly at a loss.  

Ahead of him and Xu Shi, the Prince Dai Manor’s people carried the prince’s corpse, their cries shaking the heavens. Behind them trailed a hesitant crowd of commoners, torn between fear and curiosity. Magistrate Li Weizhi of Datong, nursing a splitting headache, was greeted by this bizarre procession upon their arrival at the County Government Office.  

Magistrate Li, now forty-five, had not enjoyed much success in his official career. However, having entered the bureaucracy as a provincial graduate, he had been immersed in the official world for over a decade. Drawing from his years of experience, after hearing both sides’ testimonies and summoning a few onlookers as witnesses, he quickly realized that the so-called poisoning was entirely baseless—the Prince of Dai had brought this upon himself.  

The prince’s actual cause of death could only be described as absurd.  

He had choked to death.  

This was confirmed by Doctor Chu, who had failed to save the prince—in truth, by the time he had been dragged out of his Medical Hall, it was already too late. Before he could even attempt treatment, the prince had stopped breathing.  

“Your Honor, please examine the prince’s throat,” said Doctor Chu, trembling as he tried to steady his voice. He, too, had been unjustly swept into this disaster. “That is—”  

“That is proof of poisoning!”  

The second son of the Prince of Dai—the gaudily dressed man who had earlier pulled at the Yamen Runners—Zhu Xunshuo, shouted loudly, “My poor father died so tragically, even clawing at his own throat!”  

The Prince Dai Manor’s notoriety in Datong was too great. Doctor Chu instantly shrank back, nearly prostrating himself, and dared not speak another word.  

Zhu Xunshuo turned smugly, intending to order Li Weizhi around. However, having been confined for years, he didn’t know the magistrate’s name, as the position had changed hands. So he simply skipped over it. “Hey, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up and make these two insolent commoners pay with their lives for my father!”  

Even if Xu Shi and her son were truly criminals, no case could be decided so recklessly. Li Weizhi frowned deeply, remaining silent for a long moment before reluctantly saying, “It seems His Highness was not poisoned—”

He was merely a seventh-rank official—a parent-like figure to the common folk, but insignificant in the face of a behemoth like Prince Dai Manor. Just as the yamen runner Doctor Chu dared not oppose the manor, Li Weizhi also hesitated.

Zhu Xunshuo’s eyes widened as he took two steps forward, nearly pressing against the official desk, and glared down. “What? With all the witnesses and evidence, you still dare shield them? Do you not want this petty official post anymore?”

Witnesses and evidence, my foot.

Li Weizhi cursed inwardly but didn’t dare voice it. The ambiguous attitude chilled Zhan Jianxing to the core. Unable to hold back, he protested, “Your Honor, my mother and I have always been law-abiding and cautious. Everyone on our street can vouch for us. Today, those steamed buns were forcibly taken by Prince Dai—we never sold them to him. How could we have planned to poison them in advance? As commoners who follow the law, where would we even obtain poison—”

His arguments were sound from every angle, making the poisoning accusation blatantly absurd. Yet no matter how reasonable he was, the outcome boiled down to one word: futility.

The deceased was a prince.

A son of the founding emperor, whom even the current emperor addressed as “uncle.”

How could such a noble figure die like this—or more accurately, choke to death on a steamed bun?

If word spread, the entire realm would laugh itself to death.

Thus, Prince Dai could not have died this way. Whether the manor truly believed it or not, they had to find a scapegoat to cover the shame.

Xu Shi and her son were dragged into this. Of course, they were innocent. Everyone present—imperial clan members, officials, clerks, runners, doctors, and commoners—knew it. But under the oppressive might of Prince Dai Manor, how much weight did that carry?

The world was full of unjust cases where right was twisted into wrong. One more wouldn’t make a difference.

Smack!

Zhu Xunshuo slammed the official desk. “If you don’t know how to handle this case, step down! I’ll take over!”

By law, the eldest son of a prince inherited the princely title, while the others were demoted one rank to become princes of commandery. Zhu Xunshuo was the second son of Prince Dai and held such a title. However, his luck was poor—he’d been caught in the power struggle between the previous two emperors, an uncle and nephew, leaving no time to assign him a fief. The same went for his younger brothers. Some, even less fortunate, came of age or nearly so during the house arrest and never received titles, remaining mere imperial clansmen to this day.

Thus, the entire brood of Prince Dai’s descendants still crowded the manor, none having left for their own territories.

Being publicly berated like this in front of so many subordinates and commoners left Li Weizhi humiliated, his face burning. He wanted to retaliate, but a glance at his blue official robes deflated him—he’d spent most of his life with no hope of donning red or purple robes. If he offended Prince Dai Manor, even this seventh-rank post might be lost.

After all, Prince Dai was truly dead.

The manor’s wrath wasn’t unfounded. If they couldn’t vent it, he might become their next target—

Li Weizhi wrestled inwardly—or perhaps not so inwardly. He opened his mouth and heard his own faint voice say, “This case is of grave importance. For now, detain the suspects.”

He felt he had already made concessions. The crowd outside, drawn by the news and eager to watch the spectacle, was growing larger. The incident had erupted suddenly, and there had been no time to clear the area beforehand. Now, it was too late to drive people away. Under the watchful eyes of the public, delivering such an unjust verdict in court would tarnish his reputation as a benevolent official. Thus, he thought to employ a delaying tactic, postponing the matter for now.

Perhaps once the people from Prince Dai Manor cooled down, they would realize their own impropriety and withdraw the accusation.

But before this wishful thought could fully form, it was shattered. Zhu Xunshuo was far from satisfied and deemed his attitude utterly unacceptable. Slamming the Official Desk again, Zhu Xunshuo barked, “I ordered you to handle this as a courtesy to you, and yet you dare to delay! How can you afford to drag your feet on such a monumental case as my father’s murder by bandits? Interrogate them for a confession now!”

A confession had already been obtained earlier, but in Zhu Xunshuo’s eyes, none of it counted. He only recognized confessions that aligned with his demands.

How to get them?

Through torture, of course.

Under the Three Instruments of Torture, there was no “truth” that couldn’t be extracted.

Xu Shi had already collapsed in terror. Zhan Jianxing, pressed close to her mother, clenched her jaw tightly, her breath held in fury as she struggled to prop herself up, determined to protest once more. But Zhu Xunshuo, with his back to her, had already begun his so-called “trial.” He turned his intimidation toward Doctor Chu, demanding, “Old man, speak! Was my father poisoned or not?”

Fearing a beating, Doctor Chu shrank back in fear and stammered, “No—yes—”

Zhu Xunshuo roared, “Think carefully before you answer! If you can’t decide, I’ll have to question your entire family!”

Panicked, Doctor Chu weakly muttered, “Yes… yes…”

After speaking, he buried his head deeply, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.

Satisfied, Zhu Xunshuo turned and barked at his men, “Did you hear that? Hurry up and record it! Make him sign it later.”

The person he pointed at wasn’t even a clerk and had no authority over legal documents, but he didn’t dare refuse. Stuttering, he scrambled to find paper and brush.

Zhu Xunshuo, swelling with triumph, now set his sights on Xu Shi. Swiveling around, he jabbed a finger at her and shouted, “You woman! Confess the truth now! How did you poison my father? Who else was involved?!”

Xu Shi had nothing to confess. It was as if the sky had fallen upon her. In her panic, she could only repeat, “This humble woman didn’t—didn’t…”

The magistrate on the dais was clearly unreliable. Crawling on the ground, she twisted around to look outside, clutching at her last shred of hope—that among the sea of onlookers, someone righteous might step forward to speak the truth.

The townsfolk who met her gaze all wore expressions of sympathy, but beyond that, they deliberately or unconsciously averted their eyes. No one offered her any further response.

She wasn’t a local. Had this tragedy befallen one of their own, the shared bonds of kinship and community might have stirred some outcry. But after only two years of living here, facing a calamity that could destroy her family and lineage, it was only natural for others to prioritize self-preservation.

“Still refusing to confess? Guards! Bring out the torture!”

With no help in sight, Zhu Xunshuo’s threats came swiftly. Xu Shi was left with nothing but despair. But feeling Zhan Jianxing’s trembling body beside her, consumed by grief and rage, she suddenly mustered a sliver of courage amidst her boundless terror. Turning back, she kowtowed frantically, her forehead thudding against the ground. “It’s all this humble woman’s fault! I’ll confess! But my child has nothing to do with this! He knows nothing! Your Honor, noble sirs, I beg you—spare my child! Give him a chance to live—”

“Mother!” Zhan Jianxing’s eyes burned red as she cut off Xu Shi’s plea.

His scream was piercing, filled with resentment, unwillingness, and defiance, echoing through the courtroom and startling Zhu Xunshuo.

“What are you shouting for? Still refusing to admit it, huh? You little brat, do you think I can’t handle you? Guards, bring out the leg screws!”

Xu Shi was terrified and quickly straightened up, shielding Zhan Jianxing behind her. “No, my lord, noble sir, whatever you want, do it to me! The child is young and doesn’t understand. Please, I beg you! Xing’er, hurry, kowtow and apologize to the noble sirs—”

Zhan Jianxing stubbornly raised his chin, refusing. It was useless, he knew. These so-called lords and noble sirs were determined to wrong them. In the eyes of those in power, common folk like them weren’t even considered human lives!

Zhu Xunshuo narrowed his eyes. In the past, it had been stubborn, rigid officials like this who had relentlessly submitted memorials against his family, causing them—once proud descendants of dragons and phoenixes—to lose their princely title once and be placed under house arrest another time. This brat, barely old enough to grow any hair, had the same defiant spirit that dredged up those unpleasant memories.

Zhu Xunshuo sneered, grinding his teeth. “Where are the leg screws? Must I repeat myself?”

As he spoke, his fierce gaze swept over the yamen servants standing nearby. “Or are you all accomplices of these two rebels? Trying to shield them?”

The accusation was too heavy, even if baseless. Yet coming from Zhu Xunshuo’s mouth, no one dared take it lightly. Immediately, some servants scrambled to comply.

Soon, the leg screws were brought in. Xu Shi gasped, nearly fainting—the wooden restraints were meant to crush a prisoner’s thighs. Zhan Jianxing, still growing, stood before them, and the screws towered over him, taller than he was!

Fortunately, due to his small stature, fitting the screws onto him proved troublesome. After much futile effort, with Zhu Xunshuo’s approval, the servants switched to a set of finger squeezers, typically used on female prisoners.

Zhan Jianxing’s ten fingers were forced into the wooden rods, stained dark with old blood. Though his hands weren’t delicate—used to labor and writing—they couldn’t withstand such torture. The moment the servants tightened the squeezers, his face turned deathly pale. A scream caught in his throat, the pain too overwhelming to even cry out.

Zhu Xunshuo was pleased. “You little brat, still acting tough? Tighten them! Squeeze him good!”

Xu Shi wailed and lunged forward, only to be dragged back by servants from Prince Dai Manor. Li Weizhi, seated in the courtroom, broke into a cold sweat. He should stop this. He should rebuke Zhu Xunshuo. He should—

He didn’t dare.

The frail young boy’s back could no longer stay upright, and he collapsed. Outside the courtroom, the gathered crowd turned away in pity, many faces darkening with anger. A murmur of unrest began to spread, growing louder until Zhu Xunshuo noticed. He glared and snapped, “What’s all this noise? You all want to be rebels too—?”

“Prefectural Governor Luo has arrived!”

“Make way!”

A booming shout cut him off. Several minor officials pushed through the crowd, clearing a path. Behind them strode a stern-faced middle-aged official in crimson robes.

Author’s Note:

Rest assured, this story isn’t tragic. Not at all.

Oops, I forgot to set the release time for the draft. =_=