Chapter 141
The Eighth Prince looked at the soft sword in Xue Jin'an's hand, which was as thin as a cicada's wing. The sudden sunlight shone on the sword, making it appear almost transparent. The cold, icy light of the sword made the Eighth Prince blink subconsciously, and his dry throat swallowed involuntarily.
His thoughts wandered for a moment at that instant, and in that instant, the Eighth Prince thought of many things.
He knew about this soft sword. During the martial arts class in the Imperial Study, the Fourth Prince drew it from his belt and successfully defeated his opponent with a lightning-fast sneak attack, turning himself from a martial arts failure into a cunning martial arts failure.
It is said that this soft sword was one of the few things that Consort Chu Zhen left him, and he always treasured it, keeping it hidden in his belt every day. No one knows when it was snatched away by Xue Jin'an.
The Eighth Prince remembered most clearly about this soft sword: it was fast and sharp. Even with the Fourth Prince's lackluster martial arts skills, he could easily wield the sword with a swishing sound.
With such a sharp blade in Xue Jin'an's hands, it would be like adding wings to a tiger, allowing him to strike wherever he wanted.
Xue Jin'an really would kill him. No, he wouldn't. He was a prince, they were blood brothers, Xue Jin'an wouldn't dare, he wouldn't dare, what wouldn't he dare!?
He could kill concubines right in front of the emperor, and the only punishment he received was a year of confinement. He was just an empty prince with a noble status, but no one cared about him. What wouldn't Xue Jin'an dare to do to kill him?
"Nine." Xue Jin'an thoughtfully set a stopwatch for the Eighth Prince, awaiting his answer.
The Eighth Prince suddenly turned around and ran away.
Xue Jin'an stood still, watching his back as he ran away. He even had time to calculate the other man's speed per second and the force distribution of his legs while running.
Finally, a diagnosis was made: the Eighth Prince's running posture was incorrect, and he habitually put more weight on his right leg, which not only wore out his right shoe, but could also easily lead to leg length discrepancy if this continued for a long time.
Yes, that risk is gone now. The person who caused the problem will soon be dealt with, and the problem will be solved as a result. Xue Jin'an felt that he had made great progress in being a human being, and had even developed the excellent human virtue of helping others.
As Xue Jin'an thought, he kept counting down the seconds.
The Eighth Prince moved faster than ever before, so fast that the scenery on both sides blurred into afterimages, while a calm voice behind him mercilessly counted down until it finally reached zero.
The Eighth Prince realized with despair that he had not escaped Xue Jin'an's firing range.
—The Eighth Prince was surprised to learn that his memory was so good that he remembered Consort Chu Zhen's death so clearly, remembering the divine image she brought with her, her wide-open eyes... and the knife that pierced through her chest and precisely into her heart.
The flashback was both long and short. He felt a cool breeze blow past him, and his breathing involuntarily stopped. He reached for his chest but found nothing extra or any sticky liquid. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, as he looked up, he met a pair of calm, still, and deep black eyes, as cold as a frozen pool. A chill ran down his spine, and his whole body froze.
Good news, he wasn't stabbed through the heart.
Bad news: the man who had been stabbed through the heart was standing right in front of him.
"Time's up. Stop answering. We detected that you did not submit an answer. The breakdown scheme assigned to you is: 1. Muscle."
Xue Jin'an spoke with the same meticulousness a doctor would show to a patient about a surgical plan: "Your number of incisions is 639. I will separate them completely along your muscle lines. Don't worry, my hands are very steady and I won't make any mistakes."
Eighth Prince: "..." Thank you, but I'm even more worried now.
Xue Jin'an took in the wariness on his face and fell into deep thought. Clearly, the Eighth Prince was not satisfied with his words. After thinking it over, he felt that it was probably because of his last sentence, which was self-praising.
People in ancient times valued humility, so it's normal that his lack of concealment despite his knowledge would cause resentment.
Xue Jin'an had no intention of changing his speaking habits, but after all, they were brothers, and the Eighth Prince was still the original male lead, so Xue Jin'an was willing to give him some face.
That's true. Just saying you have a steady hand isn't very convincing. It's better to give the other person end-of-life care so they can die peacefully and without worry.
So he said, "I will preserve your consciousness until you confirm that the 639 cuts were correct, and then I will end your life completely."
"..." The Eighth Prince's lips twitched, and he couldn't help but say, "What's the difference between this and being slowly sliced to death?!"
Lingchi (death by a thousand cuts) was also performed while the victim was conscious, with each cut slicing away at the victim's flesh until the day of the torture ended, at which point the victim was allowed to die. The unbearable pain involved goes without saying.
"Lingchi (death by a thousand cuts) involves being sliced into countless pieces. The current record is 3,600 cuts, which is nearly five times the number of cuts recorded at 639," Xue Jin'an explained earnestly.
The Eighth Prince nearly choked on his breath, gritting his teeth as he said, "Thank you for telling me."
"You're welcome." Xue Jin'an felt that the exchange had reached a point where it could end, and he picked up his sword and stepped forward.
"You—you don't come any closer!" the Eighth Prince cried out in alarm. He tried to turn and run away again, but whether it was because he had run too fast and his muscles were sore, or because he was too scared and his body was cramping, he didn't know.
In short, he failed to take a step and fell to the ground, his legs giving way, looking pathetic and miserable.
Xue Jin'an easily grabbed his arm and lifted him up, then sheathed his sword and with a flash of cold light, the Eighth Prince's wrists and ankles went limp and he belatedly screamed in pain.
His tendons in his hands and feet were all severed.
"Xue Jin'an, what are you doing?" The Eighth Prince's voice trembled, his face contorted with a mixture of anger, fear, and terror.
“Struggling too intensely will waste time,” Xue Jin’an said sincerely. “I’ve already said I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
"Of course, you don't need to worry. The decomposition plan you chose is 1. Except for your muscles, I will make every part of your body perfect, including the tendons in your hands and feet." Xue Jin'an had considered everything very thoroughly, except for the feelings of the Eighth Prince.
The Eighth Prince was cursing inwardly, but dared not show it on his face. He racked his brains trying to escape and save himself from Xue Jin'an's poisonous clutches.
Before he could figure it out, Xue Jin'an had already swiftly laid the Eighth Prince flat on the ground.
A sword was thrust out swiftly.
The soft sword struck the sturdy human body, bending the blade and leaving only a deep gash on the skin. Blood gushed out from it, soaking the clothes in an instant.
Xue Jin'an was not very satisfied. The blade had deviated slightly from his intended point due to its bend. Although it was only a tiny deviation, no one would notice it.
But once it's off track, it's off track. Xue Jin'an's inherent rigor with data, a trait inherent in his code, prompted him to immediately begin adjusting the parameters.
He mentally calculated and simulated the state data of applying different forces to the soft sword on objects of different hardness, and then imported them into the database one by one.
"Alright, this time it won't go astray. Don't worry, I'll add three more cuts as punishment to make up for it." Xue Jin'an spoke sincerely, but the Eighth Prince felt a chill run down his spine.
Before the Eighth Prince could speak again, Xue Jin'an's movements were still excessively swift. With a few "swish swish" sword strikes, the pain came belatedly due to the speed.
The Eighth Prince lay on the ground, blood splattered everywhere, utterly despairing. He murmured, "You might as well just hit me..."
Xue Jin'an paused, "This is the first time I've heard of such a request."
Although he didn't understand, Xue Jin'an respected it. After all, there were too many things about humans that he didn't understand. Whenever this happened, he just shouldn't overthink it and just follow along.
Xue Jin'an rolled up his sleeves, revealing a fist as big as a casserole dish.
The Eighth Prince stared at the fist, feeling the indescribable pain in his body, and for the first time, he really wanted to be beaten.
Just as the fist was about to make intimate contact with his face, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration and, with a weak but firm voice, said, "My earlier offense is forgiven, but I cannot suffer any more torture..."
“No way.” Xue Jin’an refused decisively. He said, “It’s agreed to be 639 cuts. Not a single cut less counts as 639 cuts.”
"You—!" The Eighth Prince was furious, so angry that he was on the verge of exploding. He suddenly bent over and straightened up, but the curse words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't say them.
Don't misunderstand, at this moment he wasn't afraid, nor did he want to let things slide and allow Xue Jin'an to do as he pleased; rather...
He was so emotional that blood gushed from his wound, and he felt dizzy and his mind went blank.
The Eighth Prince felt he was going to die, that he was being driven to his death by Xue Jin'an.
The Eighth Prince stared intently, his eyes wide like copper bells, as if he wanted to bulge them out of their sockets and stick to Xue Jin'an, cursing him to death.
He shouted with all his might, "Xue Jin'an!"
I'll haunt you even as a ghost!
Whether it was from losing too much blood or the aftereffects of dizziness, after the Eighth Prince roared this sentence in his heart, he felt a sinister wind blowing from all directions, bringing an ominous premonition to his skin.
The Eighth Prince struggled to see clearly, but through the blur he could only make out a group of dark figures walking towards him.
"Black...Black Impermanence!?" The Eighth Prince couldn't catch his breath, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted, his body falling backward.
Xue Jin'an instinctively reached out and grabbed his head.
The guard thought he was going to kill the Eighth Prince, so he quickly shouted, "Master, no! If the Eighth Prince dies now, it will attract everyone's attention. We should not act rashly before he has gained enough power."
This group of masked guards were the same group of agents from the Imperial Guard that Lu Bingzhu had given him. They usually hid in the shadows, and Xue Jin'an had not intentionally investigated them. Even when the cameras accidentally caught a glimpse of something, he mostly pretended not to know anything.
This was the first time the bodyguards had shown themselves on their own initiative, and also their first time communicating.
Lu Bingzhu arranged for them to be by the Seventh Prince's side not just to protect the Seventh Prince's safety—well, given the Seventh Prince's demonstrated martial prowess, they had no room to protect him. Rather than protecting the Seventh Prince, it seemed more like they were protecting the enemy from dying too miserably.
Looking at this blood-soaked scene, how could Eunuch Lu have said that the Seventh Prince was benevolent? The guards were very suspicious.
In short, their secondary task was to protect the enemy from being tortured and killed by the Seventh Prince, while their primary task was to assist the Seventh Prince in seizing the throne.
They will try their best to help the Seventh Prince avoid some risks and dissuade him from doing things that do more harm than good.
"He's only one breath away from death, Your Highness. It's not too late to stop now," Jiazi, one of the guards, said in a low voice.
—The group of secret guards brought by Lu Bingzhu abandoned their original titles and names from the Imperial Wardrobe and instead used names based on the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches.
Before Xue Jin'an could answer, the Eighth Prince, who was being held captive, opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he immediately saw the Black-Robed Impermanence and Xue Jin'an huddled together.
"No, I don't want to die, let me go—" The Eighth Prince struggled to crawl out, as if he was completely oblivious to pain.
Xue Jin'an wasn't lacking the strength to grab him, but rather he respected the rules. He had said he would only touch his muscles, and he would only touch his muscles. He promptly released his grip on the Eighth Prince's head, preventing him from tearing his own scalp off. However, even so, the Eighth Prince had truly lost his mind, and he still lost a few strands of hair.
Xue Jin'an frowned. The guards, very perceptive, took out handkerchiefs and carefully wiped his hands clean, even his fingers—they were elite confidants trained by Lu Bingzhu, and had learned more than just how to be spies and guards.
Xue Jin'an blinked, glanced behind him, and said, "He's in shock."
The Eighth Prince crawled out two steps and then lay there motionless. Xue Jin'an could not detect his breathing in the air, so it was basically determined that he had gone into shock.
Even if there is breathing, it is so faint that even the wind cannot detect it; it is no different from being in shock.
The first mission the bodyguards, who had learned countless methods of killing and self-defense, received upon arriving at their posts was to rescue people.
The Eighth Prince was turned over, and people were used to stop the bleeding and pinch his philtrum.
The Imperial Guards were still waiting for him, so Xue Jin'an prepared to leave immediately. Before leaving, he opened his memo and wrote down the itinerary.
“Tell him when he's alive that I've put the remaining 623 dollars on my tab, and I'll arrange a time that's convenient for both of us to collect it.” Amidst the shocked expressions on the faces of the guards, Xue Jin'an gave a standard smile. “Don't worry, I won't renege on my debt.”
The guards who watched his retreating figure: "..."
I always felt that the Eighth Prince couldn't let go of his worries.
"Jiazi, this man is destined to die, should we still save him?" one of the guards asked.
Jiazi silently cursed the Eighth Prince: "Why did you have to mess with the Seventh Prince? You'd rather be dead."
"Save them," Jiazi ordered.
While the Eighth Prince was playing the resurrection game, Xue Jin'an had already arrived at the Imperial Guard camp. The camp's guards were very lax, and the guards were yawning and smelled of alcohol. Their half-open eyes had bloodshot veins, indicating that they had been drinking all night.
And they didn't even ask his identity. When he said he wanted to go in to find someone, they just threw the registration book at him and told him to write it down himself. After he finished writing, they didn't even look at it, let alone ask any questions. They just waved him on and told him to go in quickly.
The first step in optimizing the Imperial Guard: abstaining from alcohol throughout the entire camp.
The second step in optimization: strict entry and exit controls, three lines of defense.
Optimization step three: ...
In the short distance from the camp gate to the main camp, Xue Jin'an wrote more than fifty optimizations. This situation only improved after entering the main camp. Although it was far inferior to the Northwest Army, at least the soldiers looked energetic, and the sounds of training could be faintly heard.
Soon, a group of seven or eight people arrived, surrounding a young man. The hierarchy was quite clear; they must have just finished training, as they were carrying wooden buckets containing their changed clothes.
Xue Jin'an glanced at them casually and clearly saw the markings on their clothes, immediately recognizing them as Lieutenant Generals under Commander Wei.
The group of people also noticed him. The young man raised his hand, and the chattering immediately stopped. He stepped forward and questioned, "Who are you? How did you get in? What are you doing here?"
Xue Jin'an nodded with some satisfaction and said calmly, "I'm here to take over the Imperial Guards. Call your Commander Wei over."
"Huh? You? Take over the Imperial Guard?" The lieutenant general's tone was strange. He looked him up and down, grinned, and said, "You brat who hasn't even grown his first hair yet, go home and drink your milk."
"Hahahaha—" Laughter erupted from the crowd, attracting others to the lively scene, and soon a circle of people had formed.
Most of the Imperial Guards did not recognize Xue Jin'an, but some of them had patrolled the palace with Commander Wei or stood guard at Zhaoyang Palace and had seen what Xue Jin'an looked like.
Among the crowd was one man who, amidst the laughter of the others, remained silent and his expression was extremely unpleasant.
However, the man didn't make a sound. He quietly withdrew from the crowd and ran deep into the camp. Xue Jin'an guessed that he was probably going to invite Commander Wei.
Commander Wei is the emperor's man, and Xue Jin'an has no intention of letting Commander Wei sit comfortably in this position. What they both want is the power of the Imperial Guard. It is destined that if one side is comfortable, the other side will be uncomfortable.
It's difficult for a newcomer to gain a foothold and seize military power, but the military is a place where strength matters. As long as you have enough strength, people will be willing to follow you and sacrifice their lives for you.
"Let's finish before Commander Wei arrives," Xue Jin'an murmured, withdrawing his gaze.
"What?" It was too noisy around, and the lieutenant general closest to Xue Jin'an didn't hear clearly. He couldn't help but say, "Alright, alright, everyone stop for a moment."
The laughter gradually subsided. The general smiled, bent down to look Xue Jin'an straight in the eye, and said in a coaxing tone, "You look only twelve years old, right? Even if you admire our Imperial Guards, you can't go around talking about it. You must have come here to see your father and brothers, right? What are their names? I'll take you there."
As she spoke, she reached out to touch his head.
There were many locals in the Imperial Guards, and people from the surrounding area would often come to visit them, so the Lieutenant General assumed that he was one of them.
Xue Jin'an didn't reply. He turned his head away and grabbed his wrist. "I'm here to take over the Imperial Guard, or to put it in a way you can understand, I'm here to cause trouble."
"Who wants to come?" Xue Jin'an drew his soft sword from his waist with a backhand motion. The sword hummed softly and trembled slightly in the air. The gleaming blade was dazzling and carried a faint aura of bloodlust.
The general caught a familiar scent, and as he looked at the soft sword, his expression changed slightly: this soft sword had just been stained with blood.
The Imperial Guards have come up with a tough opponent.
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