His voice suddenly turned cold, "How did Vice Minister Li die last year? And how did Imperial Censor Chen pass away last month? Do you need me to... help you recall those things?"

Wang Jian's breathing became rapid and heavy, his chest heaving violently.

He seemed to see again the dead bodies of his colleagues—some bleeding from all seven orifices, some with festering sores all over their bodies, and some... whose corpses could not even be found.

The cell reeked of mildew mixed with the stench of blood. Gu Zhixing suddenly moved closer, his black robe brushing against Wang Jian's trembling knees. As he bent down, the jade pendant at his waist jingled against the iron chains of the torture instruments.

“Lord Wang.” A fingertip suddenly gripped Wang Jian’s chin, forcing him to look directly into those icy, deep eyes. “When the Crown Prince dealt with Vice Minister Chen last month, you were in the side hall listening, weren’t you?” His thumb ground heavily against Wang Jian’s cracked lip. “You heard the sound of bones shattering one by one…”

Wang Jian's pupils suddenly contracted, and a gurgling sound escaped from his throat.

"The ledger." Gu Zhixing shook off his face, carefully wiped his fingers clean, and said, "Or do you think the Crown Prince will believe you didn't confess and will send someone to rescue you?"

Wang Jian suddenly struggled violently, and the iron chains scraped against the stone ground with a screeching sound.

How is that possible?

He has served the Crown Prince for so many years, how could he not know what the Crown Prince is thinking?

Even if he doesn't say anything, the Crown Prince is only thinking about killing him now, so how could he possibly send someone to rescue him?

Suddenly, the candlelight in the dungeon crackled and popped, casting a dim light on half of Gu Zhixing's face.

He looked down at Wang Jian, who was slumped on the ground, and the smile on his lips was like frost on the tip of a knife.

"I..." Wang Jian's Adam's apple bobbed, and he forced out a breath from his chapped lips, "If I tell you... can you save my life?"

A bead of cold sweat slid down Wang Jian's temple, making a soft "thud" in the silence.

Gu Zhixing slowly straightened up, his black cloak leaving dark marks on the damp ground.

He was backlit, only the faint, ambiguous smile on his lips visible: "That depends on Lord Wang..."

A soft clicking sound came from the shadows as a jade thumb ring turned. "...How sincere is that?"