293: Chapter 291 Prison

The Great Court of Justice's heavenly prison was located underground, cold and damp, never seeing sunlight throughout the year.

On the stone walls along both sides of the corridor, an oil lamp was embedded every few paces, its flame flickering and threatening to extinguish in the draft, stretching shadows long and short.

The air was filled with the smell of mold, the scent of rust, and an indescribable stench of rot.

The cell was not large, about two zhang square, with rough stone walls on three sides and iron bars on the fourth.

The floor was covered with a layer of blackened hay, and a broken wooden bucket sat in the corner.

Ning Yuanzhou sat on the pile of hay, leaning his back against the wall, eyes closed, his expression calm.

He had been locked up for several days already.

Unexpectedly, no one had subjected him to torture.

There were no whips, no branding irons, no finger-crushing racks, and not even any interrogation.

Three meals a day were delivered on time; although the food was not extravagant, it was better than what he ate at home.

Tonight's dinner was a bowl of rice, a plate of braised pork, a plate of stir-fried vegetables, and a bowl of egg drop soup.

The meat was stewed until tender, melting in the mouth.

The vegetables were stir-fried until glossy, cooked to perfection.

The soup had thin egg ribbons and scallions floating in it, smelling fragrant.

This was very abnormal.

He had been an official for many years and had seen too many colleagues thrown into the heavenly prison.

None of them had escaped a beating.

At best, they suffered torn skin and flesh; at worst, broken bones.

The interrogators had plenty of ways to make people talk, and extracting confessions through torture was a daily occurrence.

He had long prepared himself to grit his teeth and endure it, even thinking about the jade thumb ring Yun Ming had given him previously; he still remembered the scene where those bandits' blades were deflected upon hitting the light shield.

He pondered whether the thumb ring would also retaliate if the interrogators laid a hand on him.

But they didn't beat him.

Not only did they not beat him, they treated him as if he were staying at an inn.

This, instead, made Ning Yuanzhou feel uneasy.

He didn't know what scheme the other party was hatching.

Footsteps came from the end of the corridor.

It wasn't a jailer; he had listened to the jailers' footsteps for days and was already familiar with them.

It was the dull, rhythmic sound of leather boots stepping on stone slabs, unhurried and steady, exuding a sense of composure.

The footsteps drew closer and closer, stopping outside the iron bars.

Ning Yuanzhou opened his eyes and, by the dim light of the oil lamp, clearly saw the visitor's face.

Left Vice Minister of Works.

Third rank, his future direct superior—if he hadn't been framed.

Left Vice Minister of Works was dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, his waist cinched with a jade belt, his hair meticulously combed, his face refined and handsome, with three wisps of a long beard and a faint smile hanging at the corners of his mouth.

He stood there like an elegant scholar visiting an old friend, not at all like an enemy who had sent someone to prison.

"Lord Ning, have you been comfortable these past few days?"

Left Vice Minister of Works's voice was gentle, as if asking an old friend.

Ning Yuanzhou looked at him without speaking.

Left Vice Minister of Works didn't mind and waved his hand.

The jailer behind him hurriedly brought a chair, placed it outside the iron bars, brought a pot of tea, set down a teacup, and respectfully retreated.

Left Vice Minister of Works sat on the chair, slowly poured a cup of tea, lifted it to take a sip, and set it down.

"Lord Ning, I came here today because I want to have a talk with you."

Ning Yuanzhou leaned against the wall, his gaze calm.

"Talk about what?"

Left Vice Minister of Works did not answer immediately.

He looked at the tea in the cup, remained silent for a moment, then raised his head, his gaze landing on Ning Yuanzhou's face.

"Lord Ning, you are a talent."

"From a Director in the Court of Imperial Stud all the way to the Minister of the Court of Imperial Stud, without backers or background, relying entirely on your own ability."

"I admire you very much."

Ning Yuanzhou did not speak.

Left Vice Minister of Works continued: "I know that you were designated by the Cabinet as the sole candidate for Right Vice Minister of Works."

"To be honest, I was not very satisfied at first."

"You are too rigid, unable to bend, unable to adapt, and do not leave any room for maneuver in your work."

"But I thought about it later; the position of Right Vice Minister of Works needs someone a bit tougher."

"Someone too soft cannot hold it up."

Ning Yuanzhou's brows moved slightly.

"Does Lord Zhao mean you want me to submit to you?"

Left Vice Minister of Works smiled.

The smile was very gentle, like a spring breeze brushing against the face.

"The word 'submit' sounds too harsh."

"I don't like it."

"I prefer to call it—cooperation."

"If you work for me, I won't mistreat you."

"The position of Right Vice Minister of Works will be yours, and I will also speak for your future promotions."

"I will send people to take care of your mother and sister."

"Your residence and farmland in Linan City will all remain intact."

Ning Yuanzhou was silent for a moment.

"Lord Zhao, who said I have no backers?"

"Oh? May I ask who Lord Ning's backer is?"

"My backer is none other than Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty is a wise ruler of this age and will certainly not listen to the slander of treacherous sycophants."

"Your Majesty will surely investigate the forged ledgers, the planted stolen silver, and the bribed witnesses."

Left Vice Minister of Works picked up the teacup and took another sip, put it down, his smile unchanged, but a trace of coldness appeared in the depths of his eyes.

"Lord Ning, you can just say these words to yourself."

"There is no one else here, and between you and me, we can speak some honest words."

He paused, "You know clearly in your heart that those pieces of evidence cannot be real."

"But you also know that what is true and what is false has never been important."

"What is important is—what Your Majesty believes."

"If Your Majesty believes it, then the false becomes true."

"If Your Majesty does not believe it, then the true becomes false."

Ning Yuanzhou's fingers curled slightly, and he did not speak.

Left Vice Minister of Works stood up, walked to the iron bars, hands behind his back, and looked down at Ning Yuanzhou.

"Lord Ning, it doesn't matter if you die alone."

"But if your mother, your sister, and the dozens of people in Ning Mansion lose their lives because of you, that would not be worth it."

His tone remained gentle, but every word was like a knife.

Ning Yuanzhou's heart tightened violently.

Mother, Wanqing.

His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms, aching until numb.

But his voice remained calm.

"Lord Zhao, even if I die, I will leave a good name for posterity."

"Future generations will know that I, Ning Yuanzhou, was harmed by treacherous villains."

"Those who framed me will be nailed to the pillar of shame in history, rotting for ten thousand years."

Left Vice Minister of Works laughed.

This laugh was different from before; it was not a gentle, spring-breeze-like laugh, but one that was malicious, squeezed from the depths of his throat, and carried a touch of mockery.

After laughing, he shook his head.

"Lord Ning, you are still too young."

"History has always been written by the victors."

"Once you are dead, your reputation, your family, everything you have, will be in my hands."

"What will you use to fight me?"

He turned around, back to Ning Yuanzhou, and walked toward the end of the corridor.

After a few steps, he stopped without looking back.

"Lord Ning, think it over carefully."

"I will give you three days."

"Three days later, if you are still this stubborn, there is nothing I can do."

"By then, I cannot control what will happen to your mother and sister."

The footsteps gradually faded away and disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Ning Yuanzhou sat on the pile of hay, staring at the iron bars, his fists clenched so tightly they creaked.

His eyes were red, but he did not shed tears.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Then, he heard a voice.

"Lord Ning."

It did not come from the corridor, but from behind him.

From the very back of the cell, in the direction of that stone wall.

Ning Yuanzhou turned his head sharply.

A figure walked out from the darkness, wearing a dark night-traveling suit, with a bamboo hat on her head, the hat pulled very low, making it impossible to see her face.

Her figure was slender, but her steps were steady.

She walked in front of Ning Yuanzhou and took off the bamboo hat.

Ah Yuan.

Ning Yuanzhou's eyes widened, his mouth agape, unable to close.

He opened his mouth, lowered his voice, and asked urgently: "Miss Ah Yuan? How did you get in? Did anyone discover you?"