"Is Your Excellency here to sentence me to death?" Chu Huaixu asked hoarsely.

He had his powers stripped away just three days ago, and after suffering such severe torture, his body had reached its limit.

Every few words he uttered were followed by several violent coughs, and bright red blood trickled down the corners of his mouth.

He had been in a coma for most of the past few days, and when he woke up, he would cough up blood uncontrollably. The jailers were afraid that he would die and they would have to give up their duties, so they reluctantly stopped the torture.

"I...I'm not, I'll get you out of here." Song Ting exhaled a sour breath with difficulty.

He wanted to pick up Chu Huaixu, but the man was covered in injuries, making it difficult for Song Ting to do so.

So many wounds, so much blood—just imagining Chu Huaixu being tortured made his heart clench.

At this moment, he suddenly didn't care about anything else; all he wanted to do was kill everyone who had hurt Chu Huaixu.

"I brought some medicine, let's treat the wound first." Song Ting clenched her fingers tightly, forcing herself to calm down.

Chu Huaixu suddenly laughed, his eyes filled with mockery, "What are you doing, sir?"

Unable to bear his gaze, Song Ting awkwardly explained, "I'm just afraid of you... afraid of you being in pain..."

"Afraid I'll be in pain?"

With a strength that seemed to come from nowhere, Chu Huaixu grabbed Song Ting by the collar and slammed him onto the haystack. His venomous questioning, tinged with the heavy stench of blood, pressed down on Song Ting.

"Sir, have you been treated like a dog for too long and now you want to use this trick on me?"

"Unfortunately, all I can remember is the bowl of bone-softening powder that the adult gave me. Even if I become a ghost someday, I will never forget it."

Chu Huaixu's martial arts skills were unmatched, and the reason he was able to capture people so easily was because Song Ting fed him a bowl of bone-softening powder.

The substance dissolved in water without any color or taste. Chu Huaixu was completely unsuspecting of Song Ting and drank it without arousing any suspicion.

He trusted this person too much.

"The Empress and the Grand Secretary promised me that as long as you tell them the whereabouts of the Imperial Seal, they will let you go."

Chu Huaixu's body swayed precariously, and Song Ting carefully supported his waist, afraid that he might accidentally fall.

At this moment, Chu Huaixu let go of his hand and pushed him back, creating distance between them.

Doing these things almost exhausted Chu Huaixu. He leaned against the damp, cold wall with difficulty, and even his breathing became weak.

Song Ting's heart tightened. "Young Master, please tell me."

The surroundings were dimly lit, with half of Chu Huaixu's face hidden in shadow, the faint candlelight reflecting behind him.

He coughed a few more times, then lifted his eyelids and stared at Song Ting as if amused:

"I never knew you had become so naive. Do you really believe that Zhang Bingzhi would let me leave here alive?"

Song Ting said solemnly, "I will protect you."

"Ridiculous." Chu Huaixu's voice was low, but every word he uttered was more piercing than a sharp blade. "You can't even protect yourself, how can you protect me?"

He stared into Song Ting's eyes, his expression a half-smile: "The rabbit is killed after the hunt, the hound is cooked. Surely someone as wise as you doesn't understand such a principle?"

Song Ting understood perfectly well that throughout history, people like him rarely met a good end, but he had no other choice. He also had no regrets.

If not for this, he would never have met Chu Huaixu, and perhaps even now he would still be a rat hiding in the shadows, dying silently somewhere.

And until his death, Chu Huaixu may never have known that such a person as him ever existed in this world.

Chu Huaixu was his god, and he blasphemed the god.

So even though he is still as lowly as mud, he will still protect Chu Huaixu.

Just like he wanted to protect his own life.

"Song Ting, if you have even a shred of conscience, if you still remember the pitiful affection between us, then kill me," Chu Huaixu said coldly.

These words greatly provoked Song Ting. He subconsciously leaned over and grabbed Chu Huaixu's shoulder, clenching his teeth:

"I won't do that. I won't let you die."

"I will absolutely not let you die, you cannot die."

Chu Huaixu was still smiling. Then he closed his eyes, as if he no longer wanted to see the person in front of him:

"Then please leave, sir. I don't know where the Imperial Seal is, and even if I did, I would never tell you."

"Kill me or torture me, it's all up to you."

Chu Huaixu's attitude was too resolute. After saying these words, he did not utter another word. Song Ting dared not force him, let alone torture him. She was simply helpless against him.

He carefully helped the person lie down, took out the wound medicine from his pocket, and began to apply the medicine carefully.

Chu Huaixu's injuries looked serious, but when his clothes were removed, it was found to be far more serious than he had thought.

Various scars covered his fair body, crisscrossing each other. Some were red and swollen, some were torn apart, and some had their skin and flesh ripped off.

Song Ting stared at the battered body before her, her eyes burning with fury.

With trembling fingertips, he applied the medicine little by little. The moment the medicine touched the wound, Chu Huaixu instinctively tensed up in pain.

Even so, the man remained silent and made no resistance, acting as if Song Ting did not exist.

Having been pampered and spoiled since childhood, this young noblewoman had never suffered such torture. Song Ting felt as if her heart was being torn apart.

After the medicine was applied, Chu Huaixu broke out in a cold sweat from the pain, and Song Ting was also covered in sweat.

"I will definitely get you out of here, please don't die," Song Ting pleaded, her eyes bloodshot.

Chu Huaixu remained silent, having made up his mind not to pay any more attention to him.

Song Ting stared at his back for a long time, then bent down and gently kissed his shoulder blades before getting up and leaving.

When the jailer saw him come out, he greeted him with a fawning smile.

Song Ting's face turned ashen; the violent emotions he had dared not vent to Chu Huaixu were now beyond his control.

He grabbed the jailer by the neck and demanded, "Who gave you permission to torture him?!"

"It's...cough cough...it's Eunuch Fu..." The jailer's face turned bright red.

His fingers tightened, and the jailer's breathing became increasingly difficult.

"Eunuch Fu arrived with the orders of the Empress Dowager and the Grand Secretary to interrogate Chu Huaixu. Eunuch Fu dismissed everyone..."

"I...I had no idea what was going on...Please spare me, Your Excellency..."

The jailer's words may not be false. The late emperor left behind a will before his death to pass on the throne, and the Imperial Seal of the State is not in the hands of the current emperor. The fewer people who know either of these two things, the better.

The sudden death of the late emperor has already aroused suspicion among some people. If this news spreads rapidly, countless people will soon know that the throne under the current emperor was not legitimate.

Song released his grip and coldly ordered, "This is a serious offender. He's still useful. We can't afford any mistakes. You should know what to do."

Having narrowly escaped death, the jailer was still shaken and immediately bowed and scraped, saying:

"Yes, yes, I understand. I'll send someone to fetch a doctor right away..."