Chapter 341: A Special Flavor, Where Are You Uncomfortable?
Zhao Minghong sat in the overseer’s chair, an Imprisonment Officer seated beside him, ready to record the confession.
He raised a hand to adjust the sleeve of his dark blue Prince’s Robe, then propped his feet on the table in front of him. The injury on his right hand had yet to heal, and it was tightly wrapped in white bandages, the cloth strips wound with uniform precision.
But it was wrapped so many times that it looked bulky and restricted the hand’s movement.
One glance was enough to know this wasn’t the work of an Imperial Physician. Instead, someone had wrapped it with great care and precision.
Zhao Minghong spoke up, stopping the Prison Director.
"Wait."
He tossed over the red porcelain vial he had been toying with in his left hand. It traced an arc through the air. "Use this on him first."
The Prison Director caught it and held it in his hand. "Your Highness is truly thoughtful. Is this medicine to stop the bleeding?"
He felt the need to ask; after all, if they couldn’t staunch the bleeding from such a wound, the man would surely die.
Zhao Minghong scoffed without looking up, lightly stroking the bandages on his right hand.
His voice was laced with sarcasm. "Is he worthy?"
’So it isn’t to stop the bleeding.’ Judging by Prince Yong’s reaction, he wanted to kill Su Fengyue by a thousand cuts, but they hadn’t gotten a confession yet. The Prison Director hesitated. "Then this is..."
In the dim, gloomy prison, Zhao Minghong looked up. His eyes, like a wolf’s on a cold night, gleamed with a frigid light.
"Enough nonsense!"
Prince Yong had the Emperor’s decree, giving him full authority over Su Fengyue’s case. The Prison Director didn’t dare say another word and immediately led six prison guards at a run to drag Su Fengyue from his cell.
It took only a single night to go from being a powerful minister of Beili whom everyone fawned over to a traitorous dog reviled by all.
Su Fengyue was in shackles, and his mouth was gagged with a cloth to prevent him from taking his own life to escape punishment.
The crime of colluding with the enemy and betraying the nation was a capital offense of the highest order.
Even if Prince Yong weren’t there to oversee the punishment, the men of the Prison Department would not have treated this former high official with any kindness.
They undid his shackles and bound him to the torture rack.
Su Fengyue’s graying hair was a mess, his clothes covered in bits of dry straw. Upon seeing Prince Yong, he let out a few muffled, scornful grunts before closing his eyes, as if ready to meet his death.
"Hold his head still."
The Prison Director ordered, then uncorked the red porcelain vial and was about to pull the ragged cloth from Su Fengyue’s mouth.
From two meters away, Zhao Minghong’s voice carried over.
"Who said that was to be taken orally?"
The Prison Director’s hand froze, and he turned back.
Zhao Minghong gestured with his hand, his gaze falling upon Chang Lu, who stood behind him. Chang Lu quickly walked over and whispered something in the Prison Director’s ear.
The Prison Director nearly dropped the small vial. His eyes widened in shock. ’I’ve never heard of such a cruel form of torture.’
’To say nothing of the fact that subjecting a former First Rank official of the court to castration was already unheard of.’
’And now they were going to use such a method on the elderly Su Fengyue.’
’Never in this dynasty, not even in the previous dynasty, had a criminal official been tortured so.’
’Prince Yong... what deep-seated hatred could he possibly have for Su Fengyue...?’
Chang Lu reminded him, "Don’t dawdle, or His Highness will lose his temper."
The Prison Director hastily handed the vial to two prison guards, gave them a few instructions, and took a couple of steps back.
The prison guards got to work, pouring the pinkish liquid from the vial down his prisoner’s trousers. The potion was so potent that it took effect almost instantly.
An unnatural flush spread across Su Fengyue’s face, and sweat beaded on his forehead. The sounds forced from his throat grew much louder, and the chains on his wrists and ankles rattled with his struggles.
He had already realized what they were going to do to him.
Chang Lu explained with a smile, "His Highness specially ordered this servant to procure this from the Imperial Kitchen for the Prime Minister. I hear it’s used for slicing meat as thin as a cicada’s wing."
A prison guard picked up a thin blade. The old man’s entire body trembled, and sweat dripped from his brow in terror.
"Let the Prime Minister display his virility one last time and experience a special sort of pleasure. When I was purified, I certainly didn’t get to enjoy such a fine thing."
After speaking, he waved his hand, ordering the prison guards to begin.
The Prison Director looked away. ’As a fellow man, I can’t bear to watch such a scene.’
A heart-rending, muffled roar echoed throughout the Imperial Prison. It didn’t sound human, but more like a maddened beast, unable even to beg for death.
Before they had even sliced off a few pieces, Su Fengyue fell silent, having fainted from the pain.
"Useless old bastard."
Only then did Zhao Minghong rise and walk closer, glancing at the bloody, mangled flesh on the plate.
"He’s lost so much blood. Get some ginseng soup to replenish his strength. Oh, and don’t forget to add these in as well."
The Prison Director was speechless, his lips pale.
’This is no Prince. This is King Yama in the flesh.’
Zhao Minghong returned to the table and sat down. He was about to tell Chang Lu to wake the man with saltwater. ’I have other tortures prepared. This is only the beginning.’
A eunuch from the Prince Yong’s Mansion rushed in, his head beaded with anxious sweat. He bowed before Prince Yong and said, "Your Highness, the Princess is looking for you regarding an urgent matter. She is waiting for you at the mansion."
Zhao Minghong said impatiently, "What is Qingyun here for?"
The eunuch replied, "She said it’s about the Prince Consort being sent to Longzhou. She is extremely anxious."
Zhao Minghong had spent the better part of the day in the Imperial Prison. Dealing with Su Fengyue was his most urgent priority, so he had no idea what had happened at court.
"What’s the rush? It can wait until I’ve finished my business here."
’Just as Princess Qingyun predicted,’ the eunuch thought. He continued as the Princess had instructed, "Your Highness, there’s one more thing..."
Zhao Minghong snapped, "I don’t want to hear it. Get out!"
The eunuch remembered Princess Qingyun’s instructions: if Prince Yong refused to return, he was to mention someone else.
He braced himself and said, "The Princess Consort’s stomach—" He cried out, "Your Highness, this servant hasn’t finished speaking!"
Zhao Minghong was already walking away. Chang Lu hurried to keep up. On the way back, Prince Yong sent Chang Lu off to fetch someone.
*
「Prince Yong’s Mansion.」
Tao Wanxin and Princess Qingyun sat across from each other. Their gazes occasionally met, and the air was thick with awkwardness.
Although they were sisters-in-law, Qingyun held the revered status of a Princess.
Tao Wanxin was always polite and courteous, but she wasn’t made of stone. She could sense Qingyun’s dislike for her.
She said softly, "Princess, His Highness is carrying out a task for the Emperor. He may be a while. Perhaps you’d like to rest in a guest room?"
Qingyun said listlessly, "I will wait right here. I’m not going anywhere."
Tao Wanxin had no choice but to continue keeping her company in the main hall. Bored of sitting idly, she picked up an embroidery hoop from beside her and began to quietly stitch, her head lowered.
When Zhao Minghong strode in, his sleeves flaring with his haste, he was too frantic to see what Tao Wanxin was doing.
Qingyun stood and said pitifully, "Third Brother." Her plea, however, failed to stir a shred of pity in his heart.
Zhao Minghong walked right past her, heading for the person on the other side. "Where are you uncomfortable?" he asked urgently. "When did it start?"
He knew Tao Wanxin’s temperament. ’She keeps everything bottled up inside.’
’She wouldn’t cry out unless the pain was unbearable.’