"Have you said enough?" Gu Zhixing suddenly spoke, his voice as soft as a feather falling to the ground, which made Wang Jian's laughter stop abruptly.
The young prince slowly raised his eyes, and the coldness in those eyes made Wang Jian unconsciously shrink back.
Gu Zhixing slowly squatted down to meet Wang Jian's gaze.
This action should have put him at a disadvantage, but it inexplicably carried a sense of oppressive superiority.
He reached out and gently brushed a straw off Wang Jian's shoulder, a movement so elegant it was chilling.
“Lord Wang,” his voice was terrifyingly gentle, “do you think these things… can hurt me?”
Wang Jian stared wide-eyed at Gu Zhixing's calm face, his fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of his clothes.
This is wrong... completely wrong!
In his memory, Gu Zhixing had always been a hothead who could be set on fire at the slightest provocation.
Wang Jian remembered clearly that last year, the second son of the Li family had only dirtied his clothes at the banquet, and this man immediately overturned the entire table of food.
Not to mention... let alone mentioning that taboo background of hers.
How could such a violent person possibly...?
"What are you pretending for!" Wang Jian suddenly raised his voice, but his voice trembled almost imperceptibly.
He stared intently at Gu Zhixing's slightly lowered eyelashes, trying to find a trace of suppressed anger on them. "You think you can get away with this? When did you, a dignified prince, learn to swallow your pride?"
His fingernails dug deep into his palms, yet he felt no pain whatsoever.
The calmer the person in front of him was, the more intense the nameless fire in his heart burned—this shouldn't be Gu Zhixing's reaction, absolutely not!
"Your mother was shameless back then, having an affair with her own brother and giving birth to you, a bastard! The royal family was disgraced, and the late emperor wished he could strangle you! Do you think that now that you hold power, you can wipe away the filth of your blood?!"
Wang Jian's hoarse curses echoed in the cell, each word extremely vicious, enough to enrage anyone and cause them to lose control.
However, Gu Zhixing simply stood there quietly, his eyes deep and cold, without even frowning.
Wang Jian was panting heavily, staring intently at him, trying to find a trace of anger or pain on his face.
Gu Zhixing simply stared at him, his gaze calm to the point of indifference, as if his earlier insults were nothing more than a passing breeze.
After a long pause, Gu Zhixing finally spoke, his voice still steady, but filled with a chilling coldness.
"Finished ranting?" he said calmly. "Then let's get down to business."
Wang Jian's pupils contracted, and the madness on his face gradually froze.
He suddenly realized that Gu Zhixing didn't care at all.
Those humiliations about one's background that could break anyone are not worth mentioning in his eyes.
Gu Zhixing casually brushed off non-existent dust from his sleeves, his tone as calm as if discussing the day's weather: "Where's the ledger?"
Wang Jian's heart clenched suddenly, as if someone had clenched it tightly.
He felt his throat go dry, but still managed a stiff smile: "What ledger? I don't understand what Lord Gu is saying."
"Do you remember Wang Mian?" Gu Zhixing chuckled, and when he raised his eyes, his dark eyes were like two drawn swords. "I interrogated him for a long time. He didn't even have to endure three rounds of torture in my hands before he revealed things like how he wet his pants when he was a child."
He took a step forward, his boot sole crushing the porcelain shards on the ground; the soft, grinding sound seemed to grind against Wang Jian's nerves.
He lowered his eyes and looked at Wang Jian, asking, "Minister, how much skill do you think you have that you can withstand a few moves from me?"
"I've thoroughly examined the Ministry of Revenue's account books, but those deficits... they seem to have sprouted wings, they just don't add up. My request is simple: I want to know the real account books, or rather, where are the account books you've hidden?"
Wang Jian's back was soaked with sweat, the sticky cold sweat making his undershirt cling to his skin.
The candlelight flickered eerily in the cold, dark cell, casting long, distorted shadows of the two men onto the mottled wall.
Wang Jian forced himself to stand up straight: "Lord Gu, investigations require evidence. Using torture is an attempt to extract a confession!"
"evidence?"
Gu Zhixing suddenly laughed, a very soft laugh, but it made the hairs on Wang Jian's back stand on end.
He raised his hand, his fingertips gently stroking the oil lamp on the table. The flame flickered, casting half of his face in shadow, leaving only his eyes, dark and deep, as if they were made of ice.
He slowly pulled a piece of blood-stained cloth from his sleeve and waved it lightly in front of Wang Jian: "Do you recognize this? It was torn off the bodies of those assassins three days ago."
His fingers traced the delicate, subtle patterns on the fabric. "The insignia of the Crown Prince is embroidered with exquisite detail."
Gu Zhixing spoke slowly and deliberately, then loosened his grip, causing the wick to pop and spark.
Wang Jian's pupils suddenly contracted, his face turned deathly pale, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.
A sudden gust of cold wind swept through the window, causing the prison door to creak and shake, as if someone were spying from the shadows.
Wang Jian's Adam's apple bobbed, and his fingers unconsciously dug into his palm beneath his sleeve.
Gu Zhixing slowly paced around him, the sound of his boots hitting the stone slabs particularly clear in the silent cell.
"Your Highness is in such a hurry..." He stopped behind Wang Jian, his warm breath brushing against Wang Jian's ear, "Is it because you're afraid you'll fall into our hands, or because you're afraid... that the real ledger you hid will fall into our hands?"
Wang Jian's fingers gripped the gold thread embroidery on Gu Zhixing's sleeve tightly, tearing the expensive silk thread out of shape.
“Lord Wang…” Gu Zhixing’s voice suddenly softened, like a viper’s hiss darting into Wang Jian’s ear, “You’ve served the Crown Prince for so many years, you know him better than I do what kind of person he is.”
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