"OK!"

Seeing that Shen Jintang had agreed, Gu Zhixing's lips curled up slightly, and he walked towards Wang Mian with steady and slow steps.

His footsteps were so light they were almost inaudible, yet they seemed to land precisely on Wang Mian's taut nerves, each step making the already oppressive air in the water prison even more stagnant.

“Wang Mian.” Gu Zhixing stopped in front of Wang Mian, his voice low and with a hint of nonchalant amusement. “Wang Mian is the cousin of Wang Jian, the Minister of Revenue. He entered officialdom twelve years ago with Wang Jian’s help, but was demoted from the capital three years ago due to an embezzlement case. I’m sure you and I are both very clear about your own experiences.”

Wang Mian sneered, raising his bloodshot eyes, his gaze filled with disdain and resentment: "Since the young master has already investigated everything so thoroughly, why bother asking me again?"

Gu Zhixing did not answer immediately. Instead, he slowly took out a snow-white handkerchief from his sleeve and slowly wiped his fingers. His movements were elegant and composed, as if he had just touched something extremely dirty.

However, this seemingly unintentional movement caused Wang Mian's breathing to quicken involuntarily, and his chest to heave violently.

"I'm just curious." Gu Zhixing raised his eyes, a half-smile in them, his gaze piercing Wang Mian like a knife. "Wang Jian wasn't kind to you. In fact, he personally pushed you out to take the blame in that embezzlement case back then. Yet you still work for him now, even risking your own life. What secret lies behind this?"

Wang Mian gritted his teeth, his cheeks taut with sharp lines, and his voice was low and cold: "Just doing my duty."

"Is that so?" Gu Zhixing chuckled, then suddenly leaned down, his slender fingers swiftly and precisely pinching Wang Mian's chin, forcing him to raise his head.

The two were very close, and Gu Zhixing spoke in a low, seductive voice, enunciating each word clearly, "But I've heard... that Lord Wang is very afraid of death?"

Wang Mian's pupils contracted instantly, and his whole body trembled violently, as if his most fatal weakness had been struck.

Gu Zhixing then released his grip, straightened up, raised his hand to unbutton his cuffs, and rolled up the brocade sleeves layer by layer to his elbows, revealing his well-defined forearms.

His movements were slow, every detail like a demonstration of drawing a hunting knife to its prey, causing Wang Mian's heart to sink little by little into the abyss of despair.

"Lord Wang." He bent down again, picked up one of the instruments of torture, and pressed its cold touch against Wang Mian's face, asking, "Do you know why most interrogation instruments are made of iron?"

Wang Mian spat out a mouthful of blood, his voice hoarse and furious: "Kill me or torture me, do it quickly!"

“Because iron rusts.” Gu Zhixing gently ran his fingertip across the reddish-brown rust spots on the shackles, his blood-stained thumb slowly pressing against Wang Mian’s eyelids. His cold and cruel voice echoed in the water prison. “The rust mixed with blood seeps into the wound, the wound will fester, it will attract maggots, and it will make the prisoner watch how he died, bit by bit.”

"However, I don't like such a dirty method."

As he spoke, Gu Zhixing pulled a red-hot iron rod from the charcoal brazier. The firelight instantly illuminated his profile, making him look like a jade-carved Asura, cold and beautiful, yet exuding a chilling murderous aura.

"I'll ask, you answer. If you don't answer, you die. I'm only giving you three chances, understand?"

"First question." The iron rod hovered three inches above Wang Mian's right shoulder, Gu Zhixing's voice as calm as ice, "Where is the missing document from the Grand Canal Administration from the seventeenth day of the twelfth lunar month last year?"

"I don't know!" Wang Mian's voice trembled slightly, but his tone was still stubborn.

However, the next moment, the hissing sound of iron rods piercing flesh broke the silence of the water prison, and the smell of burning flesh instantly filled the air, mixed with Wang Mian's shrill screams, piercing the eardrums like sharp blades.

Gu Zhixing's wrist was frighteningly steady, the iron rod slowly stirring in the wound, as if stirring up Wang Mian's despair. "Lord Wang, the Jianjing acupoint is damaged. You won't even be able to hold a teacup steadily with this arm in the future."

Wang Mian's body convulsed, his muscles spasming violently in pain, but he suddenly sprang up and slammed his head hard into Gu Zhixing, yelling, "Fuck your mother—"

Gu Zhixing, however, seemed to have anticipated this. His well-defined knuckles precisely gripped his forehead, and he pressed the man back onto the rack.

With his other hand, he pulled out the iron rod, bringing with it a few strands of charred, sticky flesh. "Second question."

This time, the iron rod was moved to Wang Mian's left chest. "Who received the key mold for the Ministry of War's Armory?"

Blood trickled down Wang Mian's bitten lips, yet he grinned in agony, revealing a ferocious smile. "You... come closer... I'll tell you..."

Gu Zhixing bent down, but just as the other man's protruding teeth were about to touch his earlobe, he turned around and plunged the iron rod into the inside of his thigh.

This time, even Shen Jintang heard the dull thud of Li Wu scraping against bone.

"Ah—!" Wang Mian's scream changed tone, and a foul, fishy smell spread between his legs.

"Chengshan acupoint." Gu Zhixing used an iron rod to pick up a trembling piece of leg flesh, his tone still as calm as if discussing the weather. "If this spot is ruined, Lord Wang will only be able to crawl on his knees to meet people from now on." He suddenly turned to look at Shen Jintang, "Excuse me, could you please bring me that celadon bottle over there?"

Shen Jintang tossed the cold medicine bottle over, but a chill couldn't help but creep into her heart.

Gu Zhixing pulled out the stopper and poured the pale yellow powder onto Wang Mian's bloodied and mangled leg. "Rhus chinensis powder."

He watched Wang Mian's latest violent spasm, "The Southern Xinjiang people use it to process prey, making their pain sensitivity ten times greater."

His fingertips suddenly gripped the other man's chin. "Tell me now, and I'll spare your life. But if you do, this blow will pierce your heart."

Wang Mian's eyes were bloodshot, and a beastly growl escaped his throat, "You surnamed Gu...you'll die a horrible death..."

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