Chapter 138 The Night of the Wang Family Purge: The Life and Death Line of the Second Pawn

The lamp in the Archives Room was relit.

The wick burned unsteadily, the flame casting a flickering orange shadow across the wall.

Zhao Gang spread the slip of paper on the broken surface of the stone table, which had split in two. Pressing his palm against the corner of the paper, he kept his voice very low.

“Sun Qi's scouts have been watching the Wang Family Outer Residence. The commotion inside hasn't stopped since half an hour ago.”

Zhou Tie walked over, carrying his broken spear on his shoulder, and looked down at the words on the paper.

“How many are being purged?”

Zhao Gang raised a hand, spreading his five fingers.

“At least five guards and three servants. All dragged into the dungeon.”

He tapped his finger on the paper.

“Zhang Erzhuang is the first.”

Shen Yue leaned against the doorframe, her saber still at her side. The brass buckle on her scabbard glinted in the lamplight.

“Ever since Luo Qing was taken away in the courtroom, Wang Chongyuan knew there was a leak from within.”

Lin Chen sat on the only unbroken low stool, the black abyss blade resting across his knees. The purplish bruise on the web of his right hand was particularly conspicuous under the lamplight.

He didn't reply, only staring at the slip of paper for three breaths.

Beside him, Zhou Tie grew anxious.

“Inspector, the Wang family's interrogation methods are far more brutal than the magistrate court's. If Zhang Erzhuang's mouth is pried open...”

Lin Chen raised his hand, and Zhou Tie swallowed the rest of his words.

A light patter of footsteps came from the courtyard entrance, followed by Sun Qi's signal—two short, one long.

Shen Yue stepped aside from the doorway. Sun Qi slipped in from the shadows of the corridor, clutching a narrow strip of paper. The handwriting on it was different from the previous ones—the strokes were crooked, and the ink was faint, looking like it had been written in a hurry.

“Escort Officer Lu Qingshan sent this through the old canal secret passage.”

Sun Qi handed the paper to Lin Chen.

Lin Chen unfurled it. There was only a single line of text on the paper.

“Zhang Tiezhu won't last three days. The Wang family's interrogation methods are more brutal than the Criminal Chamber.”

He placed the note on his lap, resting his palm against the scabbard of the black abyss blade, his thumb rubbing the edge of the handguard twice.

For a moment, no one in the Archives Room spoke.

The scabbard at Zhao Gang's waist bumped against the doorframe, the sound exceptionally clear in the silence.

When Lin Chen looked up, the gloom in his eyes was heavier than the night outside.

“We go tonight.”

Zhou Tie's broken spear wobbled in his palm.

“Tonight?”

Zhao Gang took half a step forward.

“Inspector, the Wang Family Outer Residence has at least thirty guards. With such a massive purge tonight, all their men must be on high alert.”

Lin Chen didn't look at Zhao Gang, turning his gaze to Sun Qi instead.

“Did you bring the defense map of the outer residence?”

Sun Qi pulled a worn, multi-folded piece of paper from his chest pocket and spread it out on the broken stone table.

The paper showed the rough layout of the Wang Family Outer Residence. The ink lines varied in thickness, and several areas had been touched up with charcoal, densely packed with annotations.

Sun Qi tapped a spot in the northern corner.

“The dungeon is underground in the northern corner of the outer residence. The entrance is here, with two iron doors separated by a corridor of about eight paces.”

Sun Qi's finger slid another inch to the side.

“There are three permanent guards: two in the Late Stage of Blood Refining, and one in the Tongmai Realm.”

Zhou Tie leaned in to stare at the map, muttering under his breath.

“A Tongmai Realm cultivator guarding a dungeon door. The Wang family really thinks highly of Zhang Erzhuang.”

Sun Qi continued, lowering his voice even further.

“With the commotion tonight, the guards in the outer residence are rotating, and the patrol intervals in the northern corner are wider than usual. My scout counted: every burn of an incense stick, there is a gap of less than half a cup of tea's duration at the base of the north wall.”

Lin Chen tapped the defense map twice, one point in front and one behind. One was at the main gate of the outer residence, and the other was next to the old drainage canal outlet marker on the north wall.

“Two routes.”

Zhao Gang's breathing grew heavier.

Lin Chen spoke steadily, each word carrying weight.

“For the open route, Zhao Gang, take ten men, wear Patrol Division uniforms, carry Patrol Division lanterns, and go straight to the main gate of the Wang Family Outer Residence.”

Zhao Gang froze for a beat.

“What are we going to the main gate for?”

Lin Chen looked at him.

“A night patrol.”

Zhao Gang ground his teeth for a moment, then suddenly grinned.

“I get it. We make trouble at the gate to draw their men to the front.”

Lin Chen nodded, turning his gaze to Zhou Tie and Shen Yue.

“For the covert route, I will take the two of you in through the old drainage canal on the north wall and head straight for the dungeon.”

Shen Yue removed her fingers from the scabbard's brass buckle and placed them on her hilt.

“Is the canal wide enough for two people to walk side by side?”

Sun Qi shook his head.

“No. It's single file only. Even at its widest, you can only squeeze past each other sideways.”

Zhou Tie weighed the broken spear in his hand and placed it on the ground.

“I can't bring the spear in; it's too long.”

He bent down and drew a short blade from his boot, its edge gleaming a cold, bluish-green in the lamplight.

“I'll use this.”

Lin Chen stood up, hanging the black abyss blade back at his waist. The scabbard bumped against the edge of the low stool with a dull thud.

“Sun Qi will stay at the canal outlet to back us up. As soon as Zhao Gang makes his move, we go in. We must control our time from entering the canal to reaching the dungeon to within half an incense stick's time.”

Zhao Gang gripped the hilt at his waist tightly.

“Half an incense stick?”

Lin Chen looked at him.

“How long can you hold them off at the gate?”

Zhao Gang raised his chin slightly.

“If those bastards from the Wang family don't attack, I can make trouble from the hour of the rat until dawn.”

“And if they do attack?”

Zhao Gang pushed his saber out of its scabbard by half an inch before snapping it back in, the corners of his mouth tight.

“Even if they do, I can hold out until you bring him out.”

Lin Chen said no more, turning to walk toward the courtyard gate.

After taking two steps, he paused and looked back at Sun Qi, who was still squatting on the ground.

“That section of the drainage canal on the north wall, when was the last time someone went through it?”

Sun Qi thought for a moment.

“Three days ago. That afternoon, I followed a vegetable cart around to the north wall and explored twenty paces into the canal outlet. The water in the canal only reached my ankles, and the iron grate still had the gap we cut last time—no one had repaired it.”

Lin Chen ran these numbers through his head and stepped out of the courtyard.

The night was so dark that the rooftops across the courtyard wall were invisible. The wind blew from the north of the city, carrying the scent of burnt wood—the lingering smell of the burnt Tingfeng Pavilion, which had still not fully dissipated.

The Wang Family Outer Residence.

The dungeon was in a stone chamber two zhang underground. The four walls were carved out of solid rock, water seeping from the cracks, making the air damp and metallic.

An oil lamp hung from an iron hook on the side of a stone pillar, its wick burnt down to a stub, the flame flickering unsteadily.

Zhang Erzhuang was chained to the stone pillar by two thumb-thick iron chains, his hands bound behind his back, his spine pressed against the rough stone surface. The front of his clothes was mostly soaked with blood, making it impossible to tell if it had trickled down from the corners of his mouth or seeped from the wounds on his chest.

His face was swollen, his left eye socket bruised nearly black. There was a gash on his cheekbone scraped by an iron tool, the flesh peeled back, and beads of blood dripped down his jawline into his collarbone.

Second Young Master Wang Pei stood three paces away from him, holding a cup of tea, the steam from the tea rising in a wisp of white mist in the damp, cold air of the dungeon.

He took a sip of tea, handed the cup to a nearby guard, and fixed his gaze on Zhang Erzhuang's face, a casual indifference at the corners of his mouth, as if looking at an old, discarded object.

“Tiezhu, that name isn't very pleasant. The Wang family changed it to Zhang Erzhuang for you. How much more respectable.”

Zhang Erzhuang's lips were cracked in two places, blood and saliva mixed together and smeared over his chin.

He made no sound.

Second Young Master Wang Pei rolled up his sleeves slightly, squatted down, and met his gaze at eye level.

“I'm asking you for the third time: did someone hand that Inspector outside something belonging to the Wang family?”

Zhang Erzhuang's throat bobbed, his mouth opening slightly as he spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm onto Second Young Master Wang Pei's boot.

Second Young Master Wang Pei looked down at the bloody phlegm on the toe of his boot, the casual indifference completely vanishing from his face.

He stood up, took two steps back, and scraped his blood-stained boot against the floor tiles.

“Bring the tool up.”

The guard on the left retrieved a pair of iron tongs from a wooden crate in the corner. The tips of the tongs had been heated in a brazier, glowing a dull red, and heat radiated from the iron, releasing a smell of burnt metal into the damp dungeon.

Second Young Master Wang Pei took the iron tongs, weighed them in his hand, and turned his gaze back to Zhang Erzhuang.

“You've guarded the outer residence for seven years. The Wang family has never mistreated you for a single day.”

Zhang Erzhuang's eyeballs rolled within his swollen sockets as he stared at the iron tongs, the dull red glow reflecting in his pupils.

A single word squeezed from his throat.

“Bah!”

Second Young Master Wang Pei thrust the iron tongs forward an inch. The tip was less than two fingers' width away from Zhang Erzhuang's left shoulder, the heat flushing that patch of skin red.

“Zhang Erzhuang, you are a smart man. You rank first among the thirty guards of the outer residence not because your fists are the hardest, but because your head is clear.”

He pushed them another half-inch forward.

“Now, use that clear head of yours to think: does it hurt more to speak, or to stay silent?”

Zhang Erzhuang ground his teeth together so hard that his left molar made a sharp crack, as if a corner had chipped off.

The iron tongs pressed against his shoulder.

The fabric scorched first, curling up in a wisp of blue smoke, followed by the fine, sizzling sound of searing flesh.

Zhang Erzhuang's body arched like a bow against the chains, his spine lifting off the stone pillar and slamming back against it. The chains rattled loudly, the veins on his neck bulging as if they were about to burst through his skin.

He did not scream.

The only sound that escaped his throat was a muffled groan, cut off by his clenched teeth before it could even fully form.

Second Young Master Wang Pei withdrew the iron tongs, a small piece of charred cloth and skin sticking to the tips.

He glanced at the scrap, then tossed it into the nearby water basin, the hot iron making a sharp hiss as it hit the water.

“That's the first spot.”

He looked up at Zhang Erzhuang.

“There are two more spots. Take your time to think.”

Outside the dungeon, behind the iron door at the end of the corridor, came a faint sound of footsteps.

So faint that neither of the two guards stationed by the door noticed.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

The other end of the passage connected to a narrow old drain that only one person could pass through sideways; the moss on the walls glinted with a cold, ghostly light in the darkness.

A hand reached out from the shadows of the drain's mouth, five fingers pressing against the brick wall at the corner of the passage.

The fingers were slender with calluses between the joints, and there was a purplish bruise on the inner side of the webbing of the hand.

Lin Chen's voice was audible only to Zhou Tie and Shen Yue, who were two steps behind him, kept so low it was almost like a whisper.

"How many people behind the iron door?"

Shen Yue peeked half her head from behind his shoulder and counted for two breaths in the darkness.

"Two, one on the left and one on the right, standing with their backs against the wall, hands resting on their sword hilts, legs straight—they don't look very alert."

Zhou Tie flipped his short blade in his palm, edge facing down.

"I'll do it."

Lin Chen shook his head, withdrew his hand from the brick wall, and placed it on the hilt of the black abyss blade.

"Shen Yue goes first. Restrain the one on the left, don't make a sound."

Shen Yue's figure slipped out from beside his shoulder, her footsteps landing on the water at the bottom of the drain without even a ripple.

Three breaths later, the guard on the left had his throat seized from behind by a hand, the back of a blade pressing against his carotid artery as he was dragged into the shadows of the corner, unable to utter a single word from beginning to end.

The guard on the right sensed something was wrong and reached for his hilt, but before he could draw it even half an inch, Zhou Tie's short blade was already against his Adam's apple.

"Make a sound and you die."

Zhou Tie's lips were close to the man's ear, his breath cold.

The guard's knees went weak, his hand released the hilt, and he was pinned to the ground by Zhou Tie, who bound his hands and feet with a belt and stuffed a piece of cloth torn from a sleeve into his mouth.

Lin Chen stepped out from the corner, his gaze falling on the iron door ahead.

The iron door was two fingers thick, bolted from the inside, with a sliver of dim yellow light leaking through the gap.

The light was mixed with the smell of scorched meat.

Lin Chen's fingers tightened on the hilt of the black abyss blade, his knuckles making a soft clicking sound.

Second Young Master Wang Pei's voice came from behind the door, still clearly audible through the iron.

"The second spot, have you thought it through yet?"

Lin Chen channeled True Qi into his right arm and struck the position of the door bolt with his palm.

Golden Core True Qi penetrated the iron door, and the bolt was blasted out of its socket, bouncing twice against the stone wall of the dungeon.

The iron door swung wide open.

Lamplight poured out from the dungeon, illuminating half of Lin Chen's face.

He stood at the doorway, the black abyss blade unsheathed, his right hand resting on the hilt as Golden Core True Qi seeped out from beneath his feet, an invisible pressure spreading along the stone bricks of the dungeon.

Second Young Master Wang Pei was still holding a second red-hot iron tong; the moment he turned and saw Lin Chen, the tongs slipped from his fingers, bounced half an inch off the floor tiles, and rolled to the base of the wall.

The knees of the two guards beside him buckled slightly under that pressure; they gripped their hilts but couldn't draw their blades, the muscles in their arms trembling.

Lin Chen did not look at Second Young Master Wang Pei.

His gaze went past Second Young Master Wang Pei's shoulder, falling on the person chained to the stone pillar.

Zhang Erzhuang had two more charred burns on his shoulders, the flesh turned out and oozing blood mixed with scabs, reflecting a dismal light under the lamps.

Lin Chen took out the copper button from his robe.

The copper button was only the size of a fingernail, its pattern worn fuzzy by time, but in the lamplight, one could still faintly discern the outline of a small flower.

He walked past Second Young Master Wang Pei, between the two guards, all the way to the stone pillar, and placed the copper button next to Zhang Erzhuang's hand, which was locked in an iron ring.

The copper button made a soft clinking sound as it touched the chain.

Zhang Erzhuang's eyes turned from where the tongs had fallen, first seeing a pair of boots, then the dark blade at the waist, and finally the copper button by his hand.

His breathing hitched.

Lin Chen crouched down to eye level with him.

"Xiao Yan's jacket is blue, with two buttons sewn on the right cuff."

Zhang Erzhuang's mouth opened, fresh blood seeping from the cracks.

Lin Chen whispered the last half of the sentence into his ear.

"Because she always uses her right hand to wipe her tears."

At that moment, Zhang Erzhuang's chains made the loudest noise in the dungeon.

His whole body lunged from the stone pillar, the chains stretching to their limit, the iron rings cutting into the flesh of his wrists as blood seeped out, but his eyes were wide—ten times wider than when he was being burned.

Those bloodshot eyes stared at Lin Chen's face, the outline of the copper button reflected in his pupils; his lips trembled half a dozen times before he could wring a sound from the depths of his throat.

"How do you have this?"

Lin Chen looked at him.

"Escort Officer Lu Qingshan sent me."

Zhang Erzhuang's mouth opened and closed repeatedly; his entire body, from shoulders to fingertips, was shaking, and the chains shook with him, clattering and making the whole dungeon tremble.

Second Young Master Wang Pei finally snapped out of it, took two steps back, and raised his voice.

"Lin Chen, you've trespassed into the Wang Family's private residence. My Wang Family..."

He was cut off mid-sentence.

Zhou Tie's short blade pressed against him from behind, the cold edge resting on the thinnest patch of skin right below his Adam's apple.

"Second Young Master Wang."

Zhou Tie's lips barely moved as the words were squeezed through his teeth.

"The person locked in your dungeon is a relevant witness in a Patrol Division case. You've set up a private torture chamber and are interrogating a commoner."

He pushed the short blade forward half an inch, the edge pressing out a white mark.

"According to the Grand Law, Available on the spot."

Second Young Master Wang Pei's Adam's apple bobbed beneath the blade, the skin pushed into a shallow groove by the back of the knife, the veins in his neck pulsing one by one.

His two guards tried to move, but Shen Yue had already stepped between them, her left-hand blade held across one man's chest while her right foot stepped on the scabbard the other had dropped.

"Don't move."

Shen Yue's voice was very cold.

Lin Chen took out a short rod shaped like an iron key from his waist and inserted it into the keyhole of the iron ring on Zhang Erzhuang's wrist. He channeled True Qi, causing two copper beads in the lock core to shatter, and the iron ring sprang open.

Zhang Erzhuang's hands fell from behind the stone pillar; the deep purple marks on his wrists were even deeper than Tao Donger's, with several patches of skin rubbed raw, revealing the pink flesh beneath.

Lin Chen helped him up from the ground.

Zhang Erzhuang's legs couldn't support him, his knees buckling twice; Lin Chen hooked an arm under his armpit to take his full weight.

One of Zhang Erzhuang's hands fumbled to reach the copper button by his side; his fingers shook so violently it took two tries to grab it.

Once he had it, he pressed the copper button to his chest, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

His other hand gripped Lin Chen's sleeve tightly.

The exact same posture as Tao Donger.

The exact same strength.

As if afraid that if he let go, he would be shoved back onto those chains.

Second Young Master Wang Pei was cornered by Zhou Tie and Shen Yue, his face turning from pale to dark; his lips twitched, but with the short blade pressing against his throat, he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

Lin Chen supported Zhang Erzhuang toward the iron door, pausing for a beat as they passed Second Young Master Wang Pei.

He didn't turn his head, only glancing at Second Young Master Wang Pei's face out of the corner of his eye.

"Second Young Master Wang, keep those red-hot tongs."

His voice echoed around the stone walls of the dungeon for a long time.

"They'll come in handy later."

Second Young Master Wang Pei's pupils shrank into two tiny black dots as those words fell; the muscles at the corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something, but it was as if his vocal cords were being strangled.

Zhou Tie withdrew the short blade from his throat, stepped back, stared at him coldly for three breaths, then turned to follow Lin Chen.

Shen Yue was the last to leave the dungeon, kicking the two guards' blades into a puddle in the corner, and the iron door slammed shut behind her.

The water in the old drainage ditch was a notch colder than when they arrived, the icy chill of the ankle-deep water seeping up through the soles of their boots.

Zhang Erzhuang was supported as they walked; he stumbled with every step, the two burns on his shoulders throbbing in the damp air, making his whole body shudder and his teeth chatter.

But his hand clutching the copper button never loosened.

A sliver of moonlight filtered through the end of the channel; Sun Qi was crouching by the exit, letting out a long sigh of relief when he saw Lin Chen's figure emerge from the darkness.

"Things have escalated on Zhao Gang's side. Over a dozen people have come out of the Wang Family's main gate and are all heading to the front."

Lin Chen climbed out of the drain and handed Zhang Erzhuang to Sun Qi.

The moonlight shone on Zhang Erzhuang's face; scabs and sweat were mixed together, reflecting a face where features could hardly be distinguished.

But his eyes were terrifyingly bright.

His hand clutching the copper button suddenly reached out and grabbed Lin Chen's wrist.

"Lord Lin."

His throat was clogged with blood and phlegm, and every word seemed to be scraped from the bottom of his throat.

Lin Chen looked down at him.

Zhang Erzhuang's lips tore at the deepest crack, blood gushing from the fissure; he didn't bother to wipe it, grinding out every word.

"Xiao Yan isn't dead."

Lin Chen stopped in his tracks.

Zhang Erzhuang's fingers dug into the flesh beside his wrist bone with enough force to nearly crush the bone.

"She's being held in a villa on the back mountain of the Wang Family, along with three other children."

His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils dilated to their maximum in the moonlight.

"The Wang Family is using them... to cultivate blood."